Half-truths & White Lies (20 page)

BOOK: Half-truths & White Lies
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Part Nine
Peter's Story
Chapter Thirty-six

I could hear a commotion at the reception desk and
excused myself from the meeting I was conducting with
the intention of asking whoever was responsible to keep
the noise down. I hesitated when I heard Tom's raised
voice saying, 'Well, you'd better drag him out of his
meeting and tell him that Tom Fellows wants to talk to
him about his wife.'

The next thing I knew, I was reeling from a blow to
my face and my nose was bleeding. Instinctively, I sat
down on a low chair and bent forwards. I knew that
Tom was not a fighting man and he was unlikely to hit
me again unless I stood up against him.

'You stupid bastard,' he was shouting. 'You've gone
and ruined everything.' But instead of raising his fist
again, he sat down next to me and held his head in his
hands.

'Shall I call the police, sir?' the receptionist whispered
as she bent down to hand me a wad of tissues.

'No, no. Make us some coffees and show Mr Fellows
to my office while I wash my face.'

'Will you come this way?' she asked him, but Tom
followed me into the men's toilets and looked at my
reflection in the mirror. Denial wasn't an option.

'I left, Tom,' I explained. 'I left because I knew that I
couldn't finish it any other way.'

'Oh yes, you left all right,' he hissed. 'But did you
know you left her pregnant?'

The colour of my face was answer enough to tell him
the answer. 'How can you be so sure it's mine?' I asked,
quickly backing off as he moved towards me again,
expecting another blow. Instead he prodded my chest
with an index finger.

'You knew that we were planning another child.' His
voice was raised but steady. 'What did you think would
happen? That I'd agree to IVF and that you could do the
job instead? And then what? Tell me, Pete, because I
don't understand!'

'I didn't know she was pregnant,' I said. 'Do you think
for one minute I would have left if I had known?'

'What would you have done? Stayed and fought for
her?' he scoffed.

'It's not as simple as that,' I replied. 'Laura would
never choose me over you and I wouldn't want her to
change her mind because she's pregnant.'

'If you believe that then what the hell were you doing
sleeping with my wife in the first place? I trusted you!'

'I'm truly sorry, Tom. I never meant for it to come to
this.'

'Those times she stayed in your house! How long has
it been going on for? Three years, is it?'

'Nothing happened then, I swear it.'

'Am I supposed to be grateful for that? How many
times have we sat down to eat together? The three of us?
How many times have you and I gone for a drink? I
don't know how you've been able to look me in the eye
all this time!'

'I—'

'Don't!' He raised the palm of his hand to me, opening
the door with the other hand. 'Don't even try to give
me excuses.'

It slammed behind him and I knew better than to
follow him. If he hadn't been such a good driver, I
would have worried about him on the journey home.
He had travelled 200 miles to vent his anger. I knew that
he had come to see me to avoid taking it out on Laura.

I spent days waiting for the next contact, but there
was nothing until Faye phoned some two weeks later. I
hadn't heard her voice since the wedding and I was
surprised to hear it then.

'Tom's left her, Peter,' she said. 'She's too proud to
come to you, so you're going to have to make the next
move. She needs you.'

'You knew?' I asked her, stunned.

'Of course I didn't know at the time.' The scathing
Faye was back. 'Laura's only just told me about it. Why
on earth my sister would choose to have an affair with
you when she had Tom Fellows at home is, quite
frankly, a mystery to me.'

Even then, it was not that simple. There were other
people to think about. Andrea might be old enough to
understand a little of what was going on. Then there was
Mrs Albury who felt that protecting the reputation of
her family was her role in life and Mrs Fellows whom I
would not have hurt for the world. I went home with
the excuse of visiting my own mother, who was by then
in an old people's home. In the end, with my father
gone, instead of being released into the world again, she
was lost. She reverted to calling me 'her Jonnie' with no
one there to scowl at her every time she used my name.
To me, it sounded as if she was talking to someone else
and added to the illusion of unreality.

I rang the doorbell of the flat with trepidation. I had
been gone for over four months and I was afraid that
Laura might be angry or feeling too guilty about Tom to
want to see me. Andrea spotted me first through the
window and I watched her jump up and down excitedly.
She clearly announced my arrival to her mother, so it
was not a complete shock for Laura to find me
on her doorstep. Nonetheless, she was surprised and
cautious, cradling her bump protectively with one
hand.

'Faye phoned me,' I explained. She brushed her
blonde head against my shoulder. I'd love to say that
she flung herself at me but neither the circumstances
nor her bump would have allowed for that.

'So there's no need for me to start from the
beginning,' Laura said, closing the door. Then, seemingly
changing her mind: 'How much did she tell you?'

'That you're pregnant and Tom has gone. Why didn't
you call me?' I asked.

'You left too, remember. And after what I had said to
you I don't blame you one bit.' She smiled. 'How do you
think I should have put it? "I'm pregnant and Tom's
gone, so would you mind coming home and taking up
where we left off?" You deserve more than that.'

'So where does that leave us now?' I asked, taking her
hand.

'Well, I'm five months pregnant with a three-year-old
in tow and no income, and you live two hundred miles
away. I can offer you a cup of tea, but I'm afraid I haven't
got the energy for anything more.'

'Have you got a better offer?' I hung my coat on the
peg in the hall.

'You're not seriously . . . ?'

'Laura, I've been in love with you for as long as I can
remember, you're pregnant with our baby, and for once,
there's nothing standing in our way.'

Andrea bounded into the hall. 'Uncle Pete, Uncle
Pete! Guess what I am!'

'A frog.'

'No.'

'A kangaroo.'

'No!'

'A jumping bean.'

'No, silly. I'm Tigger.' She grabbed my hand. 'Come
and play with me. You can be Eeyore. Mummy's Pooh
Bear because she's so fat.'

'You can always rely on a three-year-old for the truth!
Darling, the grown-ups were just about to have a cup of
tea.' Laura tried unsuccessfully to pull her away.

'But he promised that he would come and play with
me any time I wanted,' she protested.

'That is true,' I admitted, getting down on to all fours,
hopeful that nothing would be more irresistible to a
pregnant woman than a man being good with children.
I crawled into the living room languidly, muttering
about the perils of thistles.

'You've got five minutes!' Laura said in her pretend
strict voice. 'Then the adults need to talk.'

'Is Daddy staying with you?' Andrea hissed at me as
soon as she thought we were out of earshot, barely missing
a bounce.

I sat up on my heels to marvel at her directness. 'No,
darling,' I said solemnly.

'Do you know where he is?'

'I'm afraid I don't.'

'That's OK,' she said cheerfully. 'I can look after
Mummy. Only she's very sad.'

I winked. 'We'll have to see what we can do about
that.'

The sun was shining through the window, throwing
shadows on the wall opposite.

'Do a rabbit,' she pointed, referring to her favourite
game of shadow puppets. I left my first and second
fingers upright and wrapped the other fingers and my
thumb inwards, rubbing the fingers against my thumb
to make the rabbit's nose twitch. 'He-he-he-he! What's
up, Doc?' I mimicked. This produced a giggle.

'And a crocodile,' she commanded. I held the top of
my hand stiff and snapped my thumb against it.

'Never smile at a crocodile,' I sang, deliberately low.
Then I made the crocodile take off after the rabbit and
a chase ensued.

She was unimpressed. 'Do a bird.' I joined my thumbs
together and flapped my fingers, moving my hands
diagonally up the wall, and cawing like a demented
seagull.

'Do an elephant!' she demanded. I was stumped. I
had no idea how to do an elephant.

'You do an elephant,' I suggested, after experimenting
unsuccessfully.

'No, you do it!'

'No, you do it!'

'Five minutes is up!' came a call from the kitchen.

'Sorry,' I shrugged, and pretended to be making a very
quick getaway. 'No elephants today.'

'Read to me later!' Andrea called after me.

'"Please can you read to me later, Uncle Pete?" ' her
mother corrected, shaking her head.

I joined her at the kitchen table. 'Was that really only
five minutes? I'm exhausted!'

'I'm afraid she's not been getting the amount of
attention she's used to. I can't keep up with her at the
moment and the grandmothers had to give up trying a
long time ago.'

'I enjoy being in demand.' I smiled. 'It's not so long ago
I struggled to find people who wanted to play with me.'

'That's because you can't do elephants,' she joked. 'If
you don't learn, Andrea will get bored of you quickly
enough.'

'Can you do elephants?'

'Can
I
do elephants?' She was mock-serious, then:
'No, I can't do elephants. That was always Tom's job. He
was the elephant man.' She smiled sadly.

'Boy, are we in trouble.' I took her hand. 'How long
has he been gone?'

She addressed the table. 'Five weeks.'

'What have you told Andrea?'

'That he's away working.'

'And the grandmothers?'

'Grandma Fellows obviously knows the truth. It's a
small town. If my mother doesn't know already, she will
soon.'

'You haven't told her?'

'And have her say "I told you so"? It's one thing thinking
it yourself, but to have your mother say it to your
face . . .' She exhaled noisily.

'How long do you think it's going to be before Andrea
starts asking questions?'

'Pete, Tom could still come back,' Laura said
deliberately slowly. 'I don't want to tell Andrea anything
before I know what's happening.'

'Has he been in touch?'

'He sent money for the rent. No letter. No address.
Just the money. For all I know, he might just need some
space.'

'So, it wouldn't help if I asked you to move in with
me?' I asked hopefully, but already knowing the answer.

'It helps me to know that you're still here for me. It
broke my heart when you moved away. I thought that
it was the last I would see of you.' It was an evasive
answer, but an honest one.

'So where does this leave us?' I looked at her down-turned
eyes. 'Is there any "us"?'

'For me, there always has been, but I know that that's
not good enough for you any more.' She turned her eyes
to me. 'Give me time. We both owe Tom that much.'

'How much time? In a few months that baby will be
born into the world fatherless.'

She nodded with equal concern. 'Give me two
months.'

'And what about in the meanwhile? How will you
manage?'

'I have help,' Laura said humbly.

'What if that help disappears?' Mrs Albury could be so
changeable that I wouldn't have put it past her to withdraw
her support if things weren't organized exactly the
way she had in mind.

'I'll manage, Pete.' Laura sounded weary. 'I have to
manage.'

'Let me come and see you at the weekends,' I
implored.

'How would it look if Tom came home and found
you here? This is still his home, until he tells me
otherwise.'

I pushed my chair back and stood.

'Are you leaving?' she asked, her look one of panic.

'I'm going to read to Andrea. She's waiting for me.'

'There's no happy ending now, is there, Pete?' She
raised her eyes to me. 'If Tom comes back, I lose you,
and if we get to be together, it means that I have lost
Tom. You do know what you'd be letting yourself in for,
don't you? I don't know if Tom's told you, but I'm not
an easy woman to live with.'

It was then that I knew that I had no intention of
losing either Laura or Tom. They were both too important
to me. We shared such a complicated history. If
it was within my power, I was determined that we would
not lose each other, regardless of the sacrifices it
would involve.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Over the next few weeks, I was determined to track
down Tom, using all of the tools that I had at my
disposal through work. I spent my weekends in my
home town, visiting all of our old haunts and letting it be
known that I was looking for him. Tom had always been
so visible in the community that I quickly dismissed the
possibility that he was staying locally. His college confirmed
that he hadn't handed in any coursework and that
they assumed he had left. They explained that many a
talented pupil takes this route in the approach to the final
exams. Those he worked for regularly were as keen for him
to get in touch as I was. His services were very much in
demand and sorely missed.

It seemed most likely to me that he had packed his
guitar and returned to London in search of work as a
session musician or in the recording studio where he
had made a name for himself almost four years
previously. I turned up on Faye's doorstep unannounced,
afraid of being refused if I phoned first.

'What on earth are you doing here, Peter Churcher?'
she asked me. It was a question I didn't quite know the
answer to myself.

'Can I come in?' I asked her.

She took one look at the luggage I was carrying. 'You
can't stay,' she said, turning and leaving the door open
for me. It was not a friendly start, but it was at least a
start.

'I was wondering if you had heard from Tom.'

'I don't understand you!' Faye faced me with arms
crossed over her chest. 'Laura needs you there with her,
probably the best chance you have of catching her in a
moment of weakness, and here you are trying to track
Tom down. Are you mad?'

'Faye, you know as well as I do that Laura won't be
happy if she loses Tom. I'm certainly not going to step
straight into his shoes if there's any chance at all that
they could still work things out.'

'So now you worry about doing the right thing! That's
just typical of you. Don't you think that you're a bit late
for that?'

'I wish I could say that I'm acting selflessly, but the
last thing I want is for me to move in with Laura and for
Tom to turn up afterwards. Think how confused Andrea
would be if nothing else.'

Faye's mood seemed to change and she perched on
the corner of her sofa, 'How did things get so
complicated?' she asked. 'I'm supposed to be the one in
our family who gets into scrapes and Laura is the
one who bails me out. It's always been that way. Tom
is supposed to be the young, good-for-nothing
troublemaker. And you're supposed to be the
respectable one. If we could all just stick at what we're
good at, everything would be fine.'

'Have you heard from him, Faye?' I asked again,
softly.

She looked at the floor. 'No.'

'You're not helping anyone by keeping anything from
me . . .'

'Will you let me finish! Don't you dare use your
solicitor tactics with me! I haven't heard from him. I've
heard
of
him. He's been seen around town, busking
down the Underground and playing the pub and club
circuit.'

'Any idea where I should start?' I took a notebook and
a pen out of my jacket pocket.

'All of the smaller venues. The Half Moon at Putney.
The Swan at Fulham. The Sun Inn at Clapham. The
Borderline. The Hope and Anchor in Islington. That
should do for starters. They'll be able to point you in the
right direction.'

'Thank you. That's a big help.'

'Have you got any idea where any of those places are?'
She frowned at me with the level of doubt that you
would direct at a small child.

'I'll look for the stops on the Underground. That's
how I found you.'

She left the room and returned with a book in hand.
'Your bible. The
A–Z
. I can do without you phoning in
the middle of the night to tell me you're lost. Guard it
with your life.'

'I came to ask you something else as well,' I told her
before I left. 'Won't you go home, Faye? You've been
away too long and Laura needs a sister at a time like
this. Andrea needs her aunt. You know how difficult
things will be once your mother finds out what's going
on.'

'This is my home now.' She was stubborn. 'I have a job
here, friends, a life. They are welcome to stay any time
they like.'

'This isn't your home. It's a rented flat. You
deliberately haven't put down any roots here.' I looked
around for examples of how bland and unloved the
place felt. It reminded me of my own rented flat in
Newcastle, but I had the excuse of only having been
there for a few months. 'You haven't even hung any
pictures on the walls. It still looks exactly like it did
when you were visiting.'

'Well, it's a fine thing that after all this you think you
know what's best for my family.' Faye shut the door on
me with a slam. I had taken no more than a few steps,
when I heard it being opened behind me. 'If you find
him,' she said, 'be sure to let me know.'

I waved over my shoulder, the copy of the
A–Z
still in
hand, walking in the direction of the Underground
station. No matter how hard Faye tried to appear, I
could rely on the fact that she loved her sister more than
most sisters are entitled to expect.

Tom had covered his tracks carefully. I got the distinct
impression that he didn't want to be found. Apparently,
none of the people he worked for knew where he lived
or how to contact him. They all relied on him staying in
contact with them. I told more than one of them that I
didn't consider that it was any way to do business,
instantly regretting how pompous I sounded.

'And what line of business would you be in exactly,
Mr Churcher?' I was asked by a surly, stocky man with a
shaved head. I was taller than him, but when he folded
his arms across his chest and stood with his legs slightly
apart, he seemed to double in size. I had no doubt that
he was used to defending his territory.

'I'm a solicitor.' I felt safer behind the mask of my professional
role. 'But this is a private matter. A family
matter.'

'Your name ain't Fellows.'

'No, it isn't,' I conceded.

'Well, Mr Churcher, this ain't a solicitor's office and
you ain't family.'

'I've brought a message from the family. If you can't
tell me how to reach him, would it be possible for you
to get a message to him?'

'
If
we 'ear from him, I should be 'appy to pass on your
message. More than 'appy.'

'That's very kind of you,' I said, jotting down details of
where I could be contacted and a brief message. I left
similar messages at various locations around the capital.
I wanted Tom to know how much I had wanted to get
in touch and how hard I had tried to track him down.
Over the weeks that followed, I returned to the same
venues to see if those messages had been passed on and
if there was news. I felt that some of the landlords were
lying, and that some knew exactly who I was and were
judging me, but only one greeted me by name.

'Back again, Mr Churcher?' He was pulling a pint.

'I was wondering if you'd heard from Tom Fellows
since I was here last.'

'A word of advice, Mr Churcher, if you don't mind.
I've passed on your message like you asked. You're an
intelligent man. It's obvious he 'asn't been in touch or
you wouldn't be gracing us with your presence again.
What conclusion can you draw from that?' He put the
pint on a bar towel in front on me. 'If a man doesn't
want to be found, there's no finding 'im. No charge this
time.' He nodded at the pint. 'We operate a pub here. A
place where people come to escape their worries. I like
to think we do that very well. If you're not 'ere for a pint,
I'm afraid you have no business being 'ere.' He moved
on with a clap of his hands. 'Right then, who's waiting
to be served? What can I get for you, sir?'

I didn't darken his doorstep again.

Two months passed and there was no news. It was
time to pay Laura another visit; it would not be long
before the baby arrived.

'Pete,' she said, opening the door with one hand, her
other on her hip. She had grown considerably larger
since the last time I saw her and she leaned backwards
to balance the weight of the baby. She smiled wearily. 'I
hear from Faye that you've been playing the detective.'

'Can I come in?' I asked.

'The coast is clear for once. Andrea's having tea at a
friend's.'

She showed me into the front room, which was
littered with piles of baby clothes.

'I've been sorting out all of Andrea's old things.
Some of them look as if they've hardly been worn.' She
picked up a Babygro. 'Can you believe she was ever this
small?'

'Seems like only yesterday.' I smiled. 'How are
you?'

'Huge – as you can see. Tired. Trying to keep it all
together for Andrea's sake.'

'So you haven't heard from Tom?'

I watched her lip quiver. 'Just an envelope with the
money for the rent.'

'I'm so sorry, Laura.' I reached out to touch her knee.
'I've tried everywhere I could think of.'

'I didn't ask you to.'

'Are you angry with me?'

'With you? No!' She tried to smile through the first
onset of tears. 'You've always looked after me. How
could I be angry?'

I had a sudden thought. 'I don't want you to think
that because I've been looking for Tom that I'm not
interested.'

'I understand. I really do.'

'Is the idea of a future with me so horrible?' I tried to
be lighthearted.

'You know that when I say yes to you, I'm giving up
on Tom.' She let her head drop.

'I know, I know.' I put an arm around her and let her
head rest against my shoulder.

'Do you think he's given up on us?' she asked, her
eyelashes heavy with tears.

I chose not to answer but hushed her as I would
Andrea when she needed comforting. 'I'm here now.'

She responded by holding on to the hand on her
shoulder. Her touch felt child-like rather than like a
lover's.

After a while, when she was calmer, she asked, 'Where
do we go from here?'

'Well.' I tried to stick to the practicalities. 'We've got to
get ready for this baby. If you're willing to have me, you
need to decide where you would like to live.'

'I want to stay here.' She was adamant about that. 'I
don't want to move to Newcastle.'

'I've already told the firm that I consider I've done my
time at the new office, so that's not a problem. I've just got
a few things to finish off there. Would you consider
moving to my house? There's no shortage of room there.'

'That seems best,' Laura said, looking around her at
the cramped living room. I could tell that she was not
ready to let go yet. There were too many memories in
that one small room, in the flat that had never belonged
to them. The shelves that Tom had put up. The stand
that he had fixed to the wall for the rented television.
The boiler housing that he had built. The folders of his
course work for college. Their wedding photo on the
wall. Evidence of a four-year marriage. I knew that she
was wondering what Tom would do if he came back to
the flat and it was empty. I was wondering the same
thing myself.

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