The Secretary

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The Secretary Page 20

by Zoe Lea


  ‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ he said, walking into the office, and I went hotter. I looked at Becca who gave a wide smile when she saw the colour of my face, and I shot her a look, begging her not to make anything out of it.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you in the staffroom, to see what Sam thought of last Friday.’ He turned to Becca. ‘Did she tell you I took her and Sam out?’

  Becca put on a shocked face. ‘She did not! How did you manage that?’

  He laughed. ‘It wasn’t that exciting. Just to see someone fish.’

  ‘Fish?’

  ‘It was lovely of you,’ I told him. ‘I meant to tell you, to find you and thank you. Sam thought it was wonderful, just brilliant. It was perfect.’

  The room was quiet and I suddenly thought I’d said too much, been too gushing, but then he smiled, a wide smile and my stomach flipped.

  ‘I was frightened I’d done the wrong thing – upset you,’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting for an excuse to come find you.’

  ‘And what’s your excuse?’ There was a playful tone to Becca’s voice. She jumped down from the table she’d been perched on and folded her arms, a smile on her face. ‘What are you up this end of the school for?’

  ‘This,’ he said and presented a file. ‘The rest of the data forms – well, the ones we’ve had in so far.’ I took the file off him.

  ‘You could’ve sent a child up with that,’ Becca argued. ‘You didn’t need to waste your lunch hour coming up here.’

  ‘Who says I’m wasting anything?’

  ‘Aha!’ Becca said, suddenly delighted. ‘You, sir, are the answer to my problems.’

  ‘What problems?’

  Becca turned and looked at me. I felt a familiar lurch of panic jump in my chest – I’d seen that look on her face before.

  ‘Becca, no, listen, really, stop … ’

  ‘Ruth needs to get out,’ she said to Glen, silencing all my protests. ‘She’s in desperate need to get out as she’s having such a tough time at the moment, and you just volunteered to do it. And before you think of a reason why not,’ Becca said to me, ‘I’ll come to yours and sit with Sam. I’ll watch whatever he likes, play whatever game he wants. He knows me and he won’t have to leave the house so you’ve no excuse.’

  ‘Sam’s not really—’

  ‘I won’t hear a word against it,’ Becca said, standing up and turning to Glen. ‘Ruth is my best friend in the whole world. She’s having a shit time of it and you seem like the perfect person to help her out. Can I count on you?’

  He looked at me, smiled, and I felt something inside soften. He turned to Becca. ‘You can count on me,’ he said. ‘I’ll take her out tomorrow.’ He turned and looked straight at me, a flutter building in my chest with the speed of it all.

  ‘Looks like we’ve got a date,’ he said, and Becca clapped her hands in delight.

  TWENTY-TWO

  ‘Got any kids?’ I asked him.

  We were driving out of Carlisle, after Glen had picked me up at six-thirty from home. I’d had to drink two glasses of wine just so I felt normal. I was wearing a black knitted dress, heels, and Becca had styled my hair, and I felt ridiculous. Before she arrived I was in jeans and a blouse, trying to get out of going, but she’d insisted. She’d poured me a large glass, marched me upstairs and given me a mini-makeover.

  I felt like I was pretending to be someone else, dressed up like a dog’s dinner while Glen was wearing jeans and a shirt. My hair, sprayed into a solid mass, prevented me from putting my head back, and I felt a bit like a nodding dog, all spruced up and full of nothing. Sitting in his campervan, listening to the gentle folk music on his radio, my heart jittering and skipping about in my chest.

  I’d given Becca Glen’s number, made her promise to text me every half hour, made her lock all the doors behind me, even the dead lock, even though she said I was being stupid. But it was the only way I could go, and now I couldn’t stop checking my phone and was having a hard time feeling anything close to OK.

  ‘Nope,’ he said, as he navigated the roads leading towards Keswick, ‘no kids and never been married. You’re divorced I take it?’

  I nodded. I didn’t ask any more about it, not trusting myself to say anything else in case I turned into one of those crazy divorced women who quiz every single bloke they meet on their past affairs. We drove along the quiet streets and he asked me how long I’d been in Carlisle, which developed into a conversation about the places we’d visit if money and time were no object. I found myself laughing as he justified his choice of destinations. As he pulled up to a pub just on the outskirts of civilisation, I realised that even though the Will and Sam situation was never far from my mind, I had briefly let it slip into second place.

  ‘You been here before?’

  I looked up at the stonework and creeping ivy. ‘I never knew this existed.’

  He laughed. ‘Good. And you call yourself a local?’

  The pub was small, dimly lit, and had a comforting smell of hops and homecooked food. There was a roaring fire, and we got ourselves a table in the back room, shared with an older couple and their terrier, who was asleep at their feet.

  ‘Can I ask you something straight out?’ Glen asked, a smile playing on his lips. ‘Before we get started? And I know it’s none of my business, but … Rob?’

  ‘What about Rob?’ I asked, my heart beginning to pound.

  ‘Are you and him,’ he dipped his head, ‘y‘know…?’

  I nearly threw my drink over him and he laughed, held up his hands.

  ‘I had to ask!’ he said, ‘I just wanted to know.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked, ‘why bring him up now?’

  ‘To make sure I had a shot.’

  ‘A shot?’

  ‘A shot at you,’ he said smiling straight at me and a swoop of adrenalin went through my chest. I looked down, not able to match his gaze any longer, my cheeks going hot.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘well, in that case,’ I looked up, ‘I can confirm you have a shot. With me.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ he grinned, ‘so, you’re not interested in…’

  ‘If you say Rob again … ’ I threatened and he laughed, ‘absolutely not.’ I went on, ‘I can’t stand the man. I’m appalled at what I did with him. I’m really ashamed about the whole thing.’

  ‘Why on earth are you ashamed?’ he asked, and to my horror, I felt tears prick at my eyes. I was overtired, out of my mind with worry over Will and Sam, and here I was about to explain myself to a stranger.

  ‘You did nothing wrong,’ he said and put his hand on mine. ‘You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed about at all.’

  I stared at our hands, his over mine, his warm fingers curled around my palm and felt a buzz. As if an electric current were transferring from his hand to mine.

  ‘I like you,’ I said quietly, ‘but I should warn you, I’m a mess. My life’s a mess. I’m about to enter a custody battle with my ex-husband over my son. I’m broke and that woman who threw her phone at me, Janine? Her best friend is the solicitor helping my ex-husband in said custody battle, and I think Janine has been sending me threatening notes and texts, and little packages containing my cupcakes stuffed with shit. It’s either her, or someone else she knows. I’ve told the police about it but be warned, I come with baggage and then some.’

  He wasn’t smiling.

  After a while, he said, ‘You think Janine’s been sending you threatening texts?’

  I shrugged. ‘I think it was her, and she’s not sent anything since last week.’ I took a sip of my drink. ‘Nothing terrible, just silly things, but enough to make me uneasy.’

  ‘I’m glad you came out with me,’ he said, and I smiled weakly. ‘I’m really glad to give you a night off from it all.’

  I ran my hand through my hair, ‘Me too,’ I said, ‘anyway, enough of all that. I want to know more about you, about why you’re not looking to become permanent at the school. Tell me why your CV is full of supply work
and what you do on the cruise ships.’

  He smiled. ‘I only do supply,’ he said, ‘so I can concentrate on my music, and that’s what I do on the cruise ships.’

  I looked at him. ‘Your music?’ I asked, ‘you have a band?’

  He nodded. ‘But not like you think. I don’t play in pubs or at weddings, I play on the ship.’

  ‘Oh,’ I smiled, ‘I see.’

  ‘It allows me to go all over the world and be paid for doing so,’ he grinned, ‘and I was only going to stay at this school until the end of term, but because of you, I’ve just found myself rearranging things so I can be here longer.’

  I smiled at his words, there was a giddiness in my chest that hadn’t been there before.

  ‘But you’re from Carlisle?’ I asked. ‘That’s why you’re here? To see family and make a bit of money until you go back on the ship?’

  He shook his head, finished off his pint. ‘I’m in Carlisle for different reasons and –’ he raised his finger to stop me from asking anything further ‘‒ I’m about to ask you if you want another drink?’

  By the time we got back to my house I was happily merry and full. Sam was asleep on the couch, his head resting on Becca’s knee as she watched News at Ten, and there was a giddy feeling in my chest.

  ‘You like him then?’ Becca whispered, as I took off my shoes.

  ‘I like him,’ I confirmed, and I did. He’d made me laugh, properly laugh with his tales from tourists on the cruise where he worked. He’d been unjudgemental about my situation, and had explained to me in great detail why I shouldn’t give a toss about what anyone else thought and that I should stop getting so het up about it all. He’d made me see my life through his eyes and I’d realised it wasn’t too bad.

  I went over and stroked Sam’s head as Becca got her things together.

  ‘Glen told me about this solicitor he knows who might be able to help.’

  ‘Great!’ Becca beamed. ‘I knew it was a good idea getting you two together.’

  I nodded. ‘He told me Will can’t take Sam away from me. I told him about his threats, about how he’d stop me seeing him altogether, and it’s all nonsense.’ I looked down at Sam, his beautiful sleeping face. ‘I’m his mother and any court will see how much I love him.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Becca, ‘it’s what I’ve been telling you all along. You’re his mum. You’re the one who was there when Will buggered off. At worst, you’ll have to go back to how it was before, Will having alternate weekends.’

  I nodded.

  ‘But you can put new rules in place, like what Will can and can’t do. The fact that Sam ended up in A & E the last time Will had him will speak volumes.’

  I looked up at her and smiled. ‘Thanks, Becca.’ I went to hug her. ‘Thanks for making me go. It was just what I needed.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ she beamed, ‘any time. Make another date with him soon, before he thinks you’ve lost interest.’

  I laughed and then put my hand over my mouth to stop the noise, checking Sam was still asleep. ‘I might,’ I told her.

  ‘Do it,’ she said, putting on her coat. ‘He’s the first nice man you’ve met in an age, he’s good looking, got a good job … ’

  ‘He’s not really a teacher,’ I told her, ‘he’s a musician.’

  She rolled her eyes and we laughed and said our goodbyes, a lightness to my mood that I’d not had in days. Not since I’d got back at Janine. I locked the door, went into the kitchen and got myself a glass of water. Looking out onto the back yard I noticed that the small table and chairs I had out there had been moved. Rearranged, as if they’d all been pushed to the side for something. I frowned, wondering why Becca had been moving my scrappy garden furniture about, maybe playing a game with Sam out there.

  ‘Mum?’

  I walked back into the lounge where Sam was sitting, his face puffy from sleep.

  ‘Hey.’ I went over to him, stroked his head.

  ‘Becca said I could wait up.’

  I nodded. ‘Bed now though. Did you have a good time?’

  He nodded. ‘We had four chocolate bars.’

  ‘Did you?’ I silently cursed Becca in my mind but it was short lived; she’d done me a favour, looked after Sam while I had an evening off. If she needed to placate Sam by feeding him chocolate, then so be it.

  ‘C’mon,’ I told him. ‘Bed. It’s so late. You go up and brush your teeth and I’ll … ’ I stopped at the look on his face. ‘OK, wait there,’ I said, switching off the light in the kitchen. ‘We’ll go up together.’

  I grabbed the post that I’d not yet had a chance to open and we climbed the stairs together. This was part of Sam’s anxiety – he was afraid of being upstairs alone in the house. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I’d learned over the years not to question Sam’s rules of what was frightening to him. It was best to go along with it; his fears usually passed, or migrated into something else, and it was preferable to the screams and tantrums I would be faced with if I did insist he do things differently.

  ‘Get your toothbrush,’ I told him, ‘I’m right here.’ I perched on the edge of the laundry basket and went through the letters as he brushed. I ignored most of them, bills, flyers, nonsense, and then one that looked official. Hand written to Ms Ruth Clarkson. I opened it and my heart started to gallop. It was from Hallege Solicitors & Co. A letter acting on behalf of Will, who it confirmed was now Ashley Simmons’ client.

  The letter stated that their client, Will, believed his son was at risk. Contact had been restricted illegally, and as a result of that and the concern over Sam’s welfare, the letter proposed that it would be in Sam’s best interest if he lived with his father. Will was filing for full custody.

  I could hardly breathe. He’d done it. Ashley had done it for him.

  The letter ended with them stating that there was no need for mediation, on the grounds that Will thought Sam was at risk. He stated that I was mentally abusing Sam, due to my own mental health history and current evidence of Sam’s issues, and that I was denying Sam the help that he needed. Attached was a letter from a doctor, I guessed it was the one from A & E, advising that Sam see a therapist for his panic and anxiety attacks and that I had denied any help. I had to lean forward to breathe. I was having trouble getting in any air.

  ‘Mummy?’ Sam’s voice was small. ‘Is everything OK?’

  The letter ended by stating that I should expect my court order shortly.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning, we were up early. I’d hardly slept. I’d spent most of the night Googling custody cases on my phone. Where we lived there was hardly any connection, it was painfully slow, and the screen kept crashing and failing to connect. In five hours of trying to get online and then losing my connection I found there was a slight chance it could happen. What Ashley and Will were threatening could actually happen. Usually, before applying for a court order, you had to attend mediation, but this could be avoided in certain cases. Such as abuse. Which is what Ashley was trying to claim I was doing to Sam. It made me so angry I was virtually spitting with rage.

  They’d applied for a court order, which meant I would have to go to a court hearing, and would have to justify myself. Argue my case in front of Will and Ashley, as to why I was the best person for Sam to be with, and then tell them why Will was such a prick. And it would have to be me, because I also found out that I couldn’t afford a solicitor of my own.

  I’d done what research I could, tried to see what legal aid I qualified for, but as I was down as ‘joint owner’ on my mother’s dilapidated cottage, from what I could gather it meant I had ‘disposable capital’ and therefore didn’t qualify. And when I looked at the cost of hiring a solicitor I reeled. I just didn’t have the money. Which meant I was left with no other option than to represent myself. And the thought of me going into court to try and argue my case against Ashley made me feel physically sick.

  ‘You bastard!’

  I’d managed to wait until seven
. I told myself I wouldn’t call him, but by that time the need to share my rage was overwhelming. ‘It’s not possible, you know; they won’t award you full custody. It doesn’t work like that.’

  ‘It does if you’ve got a fantastic solicitor,’ Will snapped back, ‘someone so convinced of your manic behaviour that she’s working for virtually nothing. That’s what they think of you, Ruth. And it’s so nice to have people agree with me, to know I’m not the only one who thinks you’re completely demented and shouldn’t be in charge of a child.’

  My breathing became shallow.

  ‘Bitch,’ I was struggling not to shout, ‘how did you get her to do it?’ I paused. ‘Are you shagging her? Is that it?’

  There was a moment’s silence. I was gripping the phone so hard, I thought I might crush it.

  ‘God, you’re pathetic,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I can’t wait to get Sam away from you. You’re toxic.’

  ‘I hate you so much,’ I hissed. Sam was in the next room, getting himself ready to leave. ‘I wish you would fuck off and die.’

  There was more silence and then a soft laugh. ‘Thanks, Ruth,’ he said. ‘Ashley did say that you’d get in touch, so I’ve been recording this conversation, and that threat you’ve just made? That’s perfect. Don’t call me again or I’ll have you done for harassment. But you know all about that, don’t you? I gather Janine and Rob had a good laugh with the police about you when they visited. They said you were accusing more people than they could shake a stick at. Which doesn’t surprise me. As soon as Sam is out of your dramatic, pathetic life, the better.’

  He ended the call before I got a chance to say anything else and I screamed. Threw my phone on the couch in frustration.

  ‘Mummy?’

  I took a deep breath. I’d just been recorded screaming and hissing death threats down the phone to Will. Nice one, Ruth, that will certainly make you appear like a calm, sane mother. The court will be sure to award you full custody based on that recorded message.

  I put my hands over my face momentarily as I realised that Will also knew about the texts and packages I’d been receiving. He could now argue in his custody case that Sam was in a dangerous environment. And what had he said about the police? They had laughed about me when they visited Janine? Said I was accusing everyone I could think of? So much for them warning her off.

 

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