Liar

by K. L. Slater

  Josh struggles, eager to join his brother in the lounge, and reluctantly I let him go.

  I return to the kitchen to finish up the lunch, my step a little lighter, my heart full.

  My boys are home.

  3

  Judi

  I’m sure that if it could, the big old oak dining table would groan slightly under the weight of the china tureens that brim with roast potatoes, mash, vegetables – including everyone’s favourite honeyed parsnips – and a platter of thickly carved slices of roast beef.

  The early March sunlight shines weakly through the window behind Ben, lighting up his hair like a halo. Noah and Josh tuck into the food with gusto. I feel my shoulders drop a little and I take the tiniest sip from the small glass of white wine Henry has poured me.

  Seeing this table full and the house buzzing with the people I love the most fills my heart up too.

  ‘We love Nanny’s dinners, don’t we, boys?’ Ben watches his sons, eyes crinkling with pride as he turns to me. ‘We look forward to your Sunday lunch all week, do you know that, Mum?’

  ‘The meat’s cooked perfectly again, Jude, well done,’ Henry remarks.

  My cheeks flush with pure pleasure as I reach over for the gravy boat, pouring the rich brown oniony goodness over Josh’s meat and potatoes. Feeding my family feels like the purest kind of love.

  I beam at my son. ‘Our little family, all together like this, it makes me so happy.’

  ‘It’s what life is all about,’ Henry adds.

  Louise’s death hit us all very badly. Two years ago, when Noah was six and Josh just three, she was diagnosed with leukaemia. Louise and Ben broke the news to me and Henry during our Sunday walk in Wollaton Park as the boys ran ahead and we paused to admire the new life: tight green buds, snowdrops and crocuses, springing up all around us like scattered confetti.

  She died in October of the same year. All very quick and heartbreakingly painful.

  All we could do was pull closer together, support each other and keep life as normal as we could for Noah and Josh. Ben turned to us, his parents. He let us into their lives, allowed us to help and support him.

  I immediately reduced my hours at the doctor’s surgery, and Henry took early retirement and knocked his overnight fishing trips on the head, at least for a while.

  Our grandsons became our number one priority. I usually picked them up from school each day and gave them tea at Ben’s house in Colwick, staying with them until he got home from his job as a science teacher at Colwick Park Academy.

  Far from draining me of energy, I felt years younger.

  The grey, endless mornings and drab, eventless evenings were suddenly filled with things to do. I cleaned Ben’s house a couple of times a week and did their laundry. It was a labour of love, and Henry had learned a long time ago to keep his mild disapproval to himself.

  I’ve been trying to convince Ben to move closer to us for some time. Lady Bay, not far from our house in West Bridgford, is a more desirable area and the schools there are preferable for the boys.

  Up to now, he has seemed reluctant, but with the neat new estate just five minutes’ walk away from our house nearing completion, it really is the perfect time for them to up sticks.

  A few months ago saw the second anniversary of Louise’s death. We decided to mark it with a visit to our local church and a celebration dinner back at ours, dedicated to Louise’s life. Ben made a touching collage of photographs and we talked to the boys about Louise and how much their mummy had loved them.

  It was difficult but apt. Very apt, I thought.

  I catch Henry looking expectantly at me and I shake my head surreptitiously. It would be just like him to blab out our surprise before time, and I want to wait until after lunch, so there are no distractions and we can enjoy the full reaction of Ben and the boys.

  After the last scrap of home-made apple crumble and vanilla custard has been wolfed down by my ever-hungry grandsons, Henry helps me clear the table while Ben plays with Noah and Josh and their new robot contraptions in the living room.

  ‘I’ll take the photos through in a moment, shall I?’ Henry whispers as he scrapes the plates.

  ‘Yes.’ I nod eagerly. ‘I can’t wait to see their faces.’

  I carry through a tray of coffee and Henry follows with the photographs. Within minutes, precious images of Ben and his older brother David are scattered all around the floor. I move away and stand near the door.

  ‘Gosh, I remember this day,’ Ben exclaims, picking up a print of him and his brother. He turns it slightly so the boys can see. ‘Two minutes after Grandad took this photo, your Uncle David wouldn’t let me have a turn with his new cricket bat so I took it off him and cracked him on the shins with it.’ He pulls an exaggerated sad face at his sons. ‘My backside was stinging for hours after your grandad spanked me.’

  Noah and Josh collapse in fits of laughter.

  ‘You can’t say you didn’t deserve it, though,’ Henry chuckles. ‘Shame parents aren’t allowed to discipline their kids any more. The odd slap never did you and your brother any harm.’

  ‘Why did Uncle David die, Daddy?’ Josh asks, his clear voice cutting through the dense air like a scalpel.

  Old enough now to understand the taboo subject, Noah frowns and administers a sharp nudge to his younger brother. Ben clears his throat.

  ‘He had an accident, Josh.’ He glances at me. ‘But we don’t want to think about such sad things right now.’

  The absence of David fills the room like an impenetrable fog for a second or two.

  ‘We never get smacked, Grandad,’ Noah says solemnly, breaking the spell. ‘Because we’re never naughty.’

  Ben pretends to choke on his coffee. ‘What about last week, when you didn’t put newspaper down despite being told to a thousand times, and got paint splatters all over your bedroom carpet?’

  ‘It was an art accident,’ Noah protests, a wounded expression settling over his face.

  The next day, when the boys were at school and Ben was at work, it had taken me three goes with the Vanish stain remover before the marks came out.

  ‘Oh yes, and when Noah swung on the wardrobe door dressed in his Batman outfit.’ Ben tries to look stern and fails. ‘Busted all the hinges, he did. Was that an accident too?’

  The boys see through his attempt to show a strict demeanour and grin at each other.

  ‘Enough talk of naughtiness, I think.’ I smile meaningfully at Henry. ‘There’s a reason we wanted to remind you of the lovely times we had on holiday when your daddy and uncle were young.’

  Ben frowns.

  ‘I traced the new owners of our old holiday cottage,’ Henry says. ‘Turns out they’re renting it selectively to friends and family. So I asked them if it was available …’

  ‘Our cottage?’ I say faintly. ‘We’ve discussed renting somewhere but I didn’t know you were thinking of –‘

  ‘Yes, our cottage, the very same. And I’m going to rent it for two weeks in the summer,’ Henry blurts out, obviously unable to wait a moment longer. ‘We’re all going on holiday together. Our treat!’

  Noah and Josh begin jumping up and down on the spot, repeatedly chanting: ‘We’re. Going. On. Holiday!’

  Henry laughs and hastily snatches the photographs out from under their trampling feet as they chase each other from the room.

  But Ben … Ben doesn’t say a word.

  ‘You and the boys haven’t had a holiday since … well, for three years,’ I say lightly, pushing thoughts of the cottage away. ‘We thought this would be the ideal break for you all.’

  It was neither the time nor the place to take issue with Henry’s unexpected plans. But later, I had every intention of doing so.

  ‘I … It’s really kind of you, Mum, Dad,’ Ben stammers, a maroon flush blooming on both cheeks. ‘I’m grateful to you both. It’s just that …’

  ‘It’s just that what?’ Henry interjects, taking in my expression. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve go
t something else on, Ben. You never go anywhere.’

  ‘That might be changing,’ Ben says, his cheeks on fire now. ‘I was going to tell you when I first got here, but I wanted to wait for the right moment. I mean, it’s nothing massively serious yet, but …’

  ‘Spit it out then, man.’ Henry rolls his eyes.

  ‘It happened a couple of months ago. Entirely unexpected, but these things often are, I suppose.’ He takes a breath. ‘It’s just that I … well, I’ve met someone.’

  ‘Met someone?’ I hear myself echo.

  ‘Yes, Mum.’ Ben reaches for my hand. ‘I’ve met someone special. Her name is Amber.’

  4

  Amber

  When Ben had been served at the counter, he turned and smiled at Amber as he walked past her to the door of the newsagent.

  She fought the urge to watch him go, stepped forward to the counter to pay for the milk she didn’t want.

  ‘Can I get this, please?’ The idiot sales assistant was faffing around under the counter. Meanwhile, Amber watched as Ben walked past the shop window, away down the street. He was getting further away from her again.

  ‘Be there in a sec, love,’ the assistant mumbled. ‘Dropped my blooming pen down here somewhere.’

  ‘Oh, just forget it.’ Amber slammed the milk down on the counter. The carton split and a pool of thick white liquid began to seep out. She turned and stalked towards the door, ignoring the disapproving gawps of the customers who were standing right behind her.

  ‘Hey!’ she heard the miffed assistant call out. ‘You’ll need to pay for this.’

  She didn’t turn back and she didn’t answer. Her head filled with the dismal fog that drifted in now and again and made everything around her sound far away.

  But as soon as she stepped outside, the dark clouds lifted. He was waiting for her a little way down the street. As she drew closer, she slowed her pace right down and pretended to search in her handbag for something.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him approach.

  ‘Amber. That’s a really nice name.’ His shoulders were broad, his arms powerful, but his cheeks were schoolboy red. ‘I don’t suppose you’d … I …’

  She waited. Watched him squirm.

  ‘What I mean is, would you like to maybe go for a coffee or something?’ He tapped his rolled-up newspaper against his thigh. ‘I mean, if you’re not in a relationship or anything. I don’t want to …’

  ‘I’m not,’ Amber said. ‘And thanks, I’d love to go for a coffee with you.’

  ‘Oh!’ For a split second, he looked astonished. ‘Thanks. I mean, that’s great. Really great.’

  Despite four o’clock being far earlier than most people finished work, Amber was dismayed to find there were hardly any free tables in the café they’d agreed on.

  She’d arrived a little early to grab a table, but the entire place was stuffed to the brim with young mothers, snivelling tots in their designer pushchairs and a few leery teenagers who barely looked up from their mobile phones even when talking to each other.

  She scanned the place and spotted a small round table at the back that was free. She headed straight over and saw that it was sandwiched between the wall and a businessman sitting in front of an open laptop and talking animatedly on his phone.

  She grabbed an abandoned tray, propped up against the wall, and stacked it with the empty coffee cups and cake wrappers that were scattered across the table. She didn’t want to lose the table, so she left the tray there and sat on the bench seat facing the door. Glancing at her watch, she saw there was still five minutes to go until their designated meeting time.

  Her hands felt clammy and she could feel her heart rate was up a little, but overall, she felt good. It was early days, but everything seemed to be dropping into place just as she’d planned.

  The businessman, still on his call, let out a ridiculously loud, theatrical laugh.

  ‘Are you serious? That’s just not going to cut it, mate, it’s a week after the date we agreed. Yeah, I get that, but the answer is still no. Got it?’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Amber saw him glance at her, as if he were trying to gauge whether she was impressed by his managerial confidence.

  She ignored him and stared ahead. Directly in front of her sat a table full of yummy mummies with their waist-length hair extensions and slug-like brows. Their designer-dressed toddlers pulled and pinched at them until the women finally stopped whatever nonsense they were chirping on about and remembered they had kids, handing them a biscuit or a beaker of frothy babyccino before turning away again.

  Amber felt sure that Ben wouldn’t find this set of airheads remotely attractive, but all the same, she was relieved she’d bothered to make a bit of an effort with her appearance. She ran her fingers through tufty hair and pressed her lips together so that the pink lip gloss remained evenly distributed.

  The businessman stood up and grinned down at her. ‘Mind watching my stuff for a sec, love? Just while I get another coffee.’

  His jacket was shiny at the elbows and the fabric had a nasty, cheap sheen to it.

  ‘Look after your own stuff,’ she said. ‘You tosser.’

  ‘Hey, what did you just say?’

  The yummy mummies looked up at the sound of a raised voice, their thick black eyelashes batting furiously like speared spiders.

  ‘Don’t cause a scene,’ Amber said quietly. ‘Or I’ll tell the management you’re harassing me.’

  ‘Huh?’ he huffed, looking wildly around with his palms up, trying to gather support from other customers. But in the hubbub of the coffee shop, nobody had heard Amber’s threat. ‘What’re you talking about, you crazy bitch?’

  Amber looked down at her hands and began twisting her fingers.

  ‘Are you OK?’ A staff member looked up from wiping a nearby table and called over to her.

  ‘Is she OK? What about me?’ the businessman retorted.

  Amber kept her poker face but wanted to smile. People were so gullible; it wasn’t difficult, as an attractive woman, to manipulate a situation to suit your own ends.

  The coffee shop door opened and Ben appeared, looking around, trying to spot her.

  She raised a shaky hand and he smiled and began walking across.

  ‘Is he your boyfriend?’ The businessman began snatching up his things, zipping his laptop into its padded case.

  Ben arrived at the table.

  ‘Good luck to you, mate, that’s all I can say.’ With a prolonged glare at her, the man stomped out of the shop.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Ben frowned after him. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Amber said quietly.

  ‘Everything all right?’ the staff member asked as he picked up the loaded tray of dirty cups from her table.

  ‘Yes. Thank you for stepping in.’ She gave him a little smile.

  ‘No problem,’ he replied and turned away.

  ‘I’ll get our coffees in a moment.’ Ben sat down beside her and touched her lightly on the arm. ‘Did you have some kind of argument with that man?’

  Amber looked up to find the other customers had thankfully already lost interest.

  ‘He asked me out on a date,’ she said. ‘Just like that, out of the blue. And when I said no, he started kicking off, calling me a bitch. It was … awful.’

  ‘Blimey.’ Ben’s eyes widened and he shook his head. ‘The cheeky git. Some blokes, honestly.’

  ‘It happens a lot.’ Amber shrugged. ‘Some men seem to think that when a woman is alone, she’s easy pickings. And I … well, I’ve been on my own for a while now.’

  She saw him take in the fact that there was no one else on the scene. His expression softened.

  ‘Well you’re not on your own now,’ he said manfully, standing up. ‘What’s it to be, latte or cappuccino?’

  ‘Thank you, Ben,’ she said, flushing a little. ‘I’ll have a skinny latte, please.’

  She watched him walk to the counter, a sudden swell of
warmth filling her chest. She felt calm and in control, as if she’d just made an important first move in a game of chess.

  This was a game she was going to enjoy. She would play it perfectly and she would win.

  There was no doubt at all in her mind about that.

  5

  Judi

  More than anything in the world, I want Ben to be happy. So I’m disappointed when a familiar dull thud begins in my temples, heralding one of my headaches, as Henry always refers to them in a disapproving tone.

  ‘Someone special?’ I make a real effort to keep my voice light, and even manage to smile at Ben. ‘Well, you’ve kept that quiet.’

  Of course, I’ve always known that Ben would meet someone eventually. But this soon … and so out of the blue? I confess I didn’t see it coming.

  ‘I just wanted to be sure, Mum.’ He shrugs and smiles, and as he turns to look at his father, he looks just like David. ‘Before I said anything to you both, I mean. We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now.’

  ‘A couple of months! He’s a dark horse, isn’t he, Jude?’ Henry chips in.

  I take a breath. ‘Ben, it’s barely been two years since Louise passed away. Don’t you think …’

  ‘It’s well over two years and that’s a long time, Mum.’ He presses his lips together. ‘To be honest, I knew Amber was special the moment I met her, but I’ve waited to make sure of my feelings.’

  ‘He’s old enough to know what he’s doing, love,’ Henry says, beaming at Ben.

  ‘And you’re this sure, after just a month or two?’ I try to pretend I’m feeling light-hearted about it, but the way Ben’s looking at me, I’m not sure I’ve managed to pull it off.

  ‘Like Dad says, I’m not sixteen any more, Mum,’ he sighs. ‘I know my own mind.’