by Fin C Gray
Tom tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, a smile pushing its way to his mouth.
‘Thank you, God! About bloody time, but thanks!’
He pressed his forehead against his knuckles, mottled from gripping the steering wheel. You’ll see, Ewan. I’ll be the main man again. Tom tightened his eyes against the tears, forcing their way from a place he couldn’t fathom. Man up!
The yard lights came on as he drove in. Alison was waiting for him at the back door. Her face was pink. Had she been crying again? He got out and walked over the cobbled yard towards her.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said, splaying his palms in front of him. ‘Things got out of hand at work, then Ewan called me. You know what a gasbag he is.’
‘Just come inside, will you?’
She turned and went indoors without waiting for him. Had she not noticed the smashed window on the car? Typical. Always so wrapped up in herself. Fuck it, should he just get back in the car and drive away?
Alison was in the living room, sitting on the sofa, staring into the fire that was blazing in the hearth.
‘Ali, what’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know how to say this.’ She was still gazing into the flames. Tom wanted to read her face. Turn around, show what you’re thinking!
‘I’ve got a dozen missed calls from you,’ he said.
‘And you didn’t answer one.’ She paused, seeming to wait for a response from him, then, ‘Where have you been?’
Was something wrong with one of the kids?
‘Where’s Daniel and Jenny?’ Tom put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it away. ‘Look, my meetings ran on; my phone was on silent. You know I can’t have it ringing during meetings, Ali. Hey, guess what? I have good news, for once.’
‘Dan’s in trouble at school again, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about—’
‘Don’t you want to hear it? I tell you I have something good for once, but still, you don’t want to listen. Does everything have to be so fucking negative with you?’
‘Your news can wait.’
‘Why not? What the fuck is up with you, Ali?’ Alison turned to look at him, her face puffy, eyes red.
Tom’s chest tightened. He scowled at her and went to leave the room. He wasn’t dealing with whatever it was now. Always fucking something.
‘Tom, wait.’
He turned to face her again, fighting the impulse to spit out the invective pulsing in his brain. What for? So you can have yet another go at me? Another final demand? Another shitty letter from school? For fuck’s sake— Just say what’s on your mind and let’s get it out of the way, OK?’
She was staring into the fire again, but now her shoulders were shaking. He waited for her to speak. Nothing.
As he turned to leave the room again, he heard her ask him, ‘Are you having an affair, Tom?’ The words made him stiffen. What the fuck? He felt his face redden. He turned around, his heart pounding.
‘No! Why would you even ask something like that?’
She was looking away again. What was she thinking? What the hell had brought this on? God, she couldn’t want to talk about— could she?
He moved closer to her, bent down and touched her still quivering shoulder but she shrugged him away again. She was like an animal caught with nowhere to go.
She turned to face him, her face wet.
‘Tell the truth, Tom,’ she said, her voice weak. She sounded defeated.
He fell to his knees in front of her. Why couldn’t he stop himself being so shitty all the time? He wanted to hold her but daren’t. Whatever it was controlling his fate loved to play these games, didn’t it? He felt exposed, forced into a position unnatural to him.
A cold silence separated them both, and the roaring fire gave him no warmth. Tell the truth? What was the truth?
‘Ali, I’m not having an affair. What would even make you think that?’
The silence had been broken, but her silence made it new. Speak, for the love of—
For the love of what? At least Ewan had come up trumps. Wouldn’t this be the payoff he’d gambled everything on?
‘Why would you think I was having an affair?’
Of course he wasn’t having an affair. He knew it. She didn’t. Yet. He never thought he’d have to stand up and explain it all, not after all these years of sharing their lives. Wasn’t it a given? Weren’t his special times outside the marriage an unspoken truth between them? Was he going to have to come out and say it all in plain speak now?
‘I’m going,’ he said. This wasn’t the time. Or the place. ‘Pull yourself together, Ali. Then we can talk. You can tell me what put this nonsense into your head.’
What the fuck had put this in her head? Had he been careless? Had someone seen him coming out of the bloody hotel on Monday in his jeans and tee-shirt and gossiped? Ali wouldn’t listen to tittle-tattle, would she?
As he headed to the door, he looked back at her. Alison stared back, eyes as hard as slate. ‘Don’t,’ she said.
Tom sat down in front of her. ‘OK, let’s have it then.’
Alison started to look uncomfortable, squirming where she sat. ‘You know I had some itching…’
‘Yes, and you got some cream—.’ Tom felt his face burn hot again.
‘Well, it wasn’t clearing up, and I started to get other symptoms.’
She now crossed her arms tightly and gazed at the floor. ‘So, I went to see Dr Palmer…’
Tom felt a boulder fall into his stomach. He clasped his hands together to stop them shaking.
‘He called me back this morning. My test results show I have chlamydia.’
‘Chlamydia?’ How? How could it be? He didn’t have any symptoms. Anyhow, he had been so careful.
‘Are you having an affair?’
‘How many times? No!’
‘Tom, it’s a sexually transmitted disease. There’s no other way to catch it. I haven’t had sex with anybody but you. Ever. Dr Palmer says you’ll need to be treated too.’
Who the fuck could’ve given him that? That kid in the sauna? How long does it take to show? What the fuck was it, anyway? God, no. He didn’t want to see that judgemental bastard, Palmer. He’d be doing a cartwheel over this, wouldn’t he?
‘I don’t have chlamydia. I’ve no symptoms. I’m not even sure what it is. Palmer must have got it wrong.’
‘He’s sure that’s what it is, Tom. Some people can carry it asymptomatically. You’re clearly one of those.’ Her eyes were locked on him now.
‘Ali, I don’t know what to say.’
‘Just tell me, whoever it was, that it’s over, please.’ Her hands were like claws digging into the cushions.
Tom felt as if he was going to collapse. He wanted to run from this, make it so it never happened. Tears began to flood from his eyes. Was this the end of their marriage? But surely – my god! Hadn’t she known all this time? Was he going to have to speak the words? He couldn’t lose her. Why the fuck had he said those idiotic things about his marriage to Ewan in the pub. He knew it, and Ewan knew it. He couldn’t live without her. He knew that. It was the stress talking. Ali was the love of his life. He simply couldn’t lose her. Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, he took a deep breath.
‘Darling… I thought you knew it…’
He studied her face. Surely, she knew? All he got back was her blank stare. ‘I’m not having an affair. You're the only woman for me.’
‘So, a one night stand? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Ali, you’re the only woman.’
‘Tom, who gave it to you?’
‘I don’t want to lose you. Please try and understand. I’d never hurt you. I can’t help the way I am.’
‘Are you saying… it was a man?’
A bleak dawn was breaking over her face. It twisted her mouth as it grew. With it, the panic in Tom was spreading like brushfire.
‘You mean you just didn't know? I’m so sorry, Ali. I thought you understood me.’
/> The words were echoing in his head, hollow, empty.
‘There’s always been that other side to me. I honestly thought you knew… You know how much I love you, right?’
Alison stood up and made for the door. The sound of her retching as she rushed through it made him flinch.
Tom followed her to the bathroom, but she’d locked the door. He could hear her vomiting.
‘Ali, let me in, please.’
After a few long moments, she replied.
‘Go away, Tom. I don’t want to see or hear you. Go wherever it is that you go.’
‘Please, Ali…’
‘Go,’ she said. ‘Just go.’
Chapter Four
Then
Tom lingered at the door of Ewan’s office, watching him through the glazed panels, packing his belongings into one of those plastic containers he’d seen so many of the other company employees use. Did Armstrong’s provide these for purpose? Probably not. Staples was just a few streets away, wasn’t it? Anyhow, being top level now, he should know, shouldn’t he? But he didn’t. Yet. Everything comes to he who waits. Wasn’t that the truth? Hadn’t he waited long enough? He’d waited forever, and there were things he needed to prove: to Alison, to himself, ultimately to Danny and Jenny. Not to the world, though. The world could fuck off. It would be his, soon enough.
Through the glass, he saw Ewan place a framed photo of the two of them into the box. The one where they both tied for ‘Employee of the month’. Oh, Ewan. Oh, Ewan. This was intended, right? Not anyone’s fault – all of it decided already. Tom withdrew his whisky flask from his pocket and took a swig before he dared venture into Ewan’s office. Well, the office he inhabited for now, anyhow. Today was the day of farewells; there had been many, but this goodbye would be the hardest, almost bittersweet. Almost.
OK, time to bite the hand that had fed him, at least the hand that thought it did. Ewan had to have known. It was all meant, wasn’t it? Tom had known. He’d known all along if he was honest. And he had been honest. Honest with Alison, honest with Ewan. Everything was out in the open now. Time to move on. Claim the prize.
‘Alright, Ewers? Sorry that it’s come to this…’
Ewan looked up from his box and turned to scowl at him.
‘Happy, Tom?’ he said, turning his back on him and gazing out of the window.
Tom could feel his throat tighten. He was losing a friend, a supporter, someone who had really looked out for him in the past. He wished there was some other way, some way to salvage something from this. Maybe there was still a place for him here. Think, Tom. Try!
‘C’mon, Ewan. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? How many times did I ask you to move over to my department and avoid all this?’
Tom sat down in Ewan’s chair and swung from side to side. Ewan turned to face him again, sighing deeply.
‘Bugger off, Tom. I told you – remember? Get into Marketing and Research, didn't I? Actually, if you think about it, it was me who invited you into the firm.’ Ewan turned away again and continued packing things into the box.
‘Anyway, it was Austin who wanted me back, wasn’t it? You needed me. I stepped in at the right time. You were floundering. That’s how it was, wasn’t it?’ Tom’s sympathy for Ewan was fast dissipating.
Ewan didn’t look up this time. Tom even wondered if he was going to speak, but he still lingered in spite of the freezing silence. Was there some way back from this? The squeaking from the chair seemed amplified as he swung back and forth in it. And he stopped, making Ewan’s silence complete. Should he just go and leave him to it?
‘Tom, you’re delusional. Fact. Always self-centred, always after the next best thing. Were we even friends once?’
Ewan didn’t cast Tom even a glance as he spoke. Tom stood up, turned around and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Fuck you, Ewan. I did everything I could to keep your job safe. Fuck you.
Tom marched back to his oak-lined office. Moira sat meekly in the ante-room, at her desk, hardly daring to raise her eyes from her screen. He glared at her through the open door.
‘Everything alright, Mr McIntyre?’ she asked, her gaze never straying from whatever she was looking at.
Tom ignored her, thumping down into his chair. Hands on his head, he began kicking the edge of his desk. Have I done the right thing here? The phone rang. When he picked up, Moira told him Alison was on the line.
‘Put her through,’ he said brusquely, pressing the speaker button. ‘Hello, darling,’ he said, wringing his hands.
‘Hi, Tom…’ Alison was hesitant. Then wasn’t she always, these days? ‘Danny’s been pulled up again…’
Tom took a deep breath. What was he supposed to do? He pulled the bottle of whisky from his lower desk drawer and poured some into the near-empty glass, beside the pile of files that had been glaring at him all morning.
‘He’ll be OK, darling… It’s just a phase. I’ll talk to him when I get home, I promise. I’ll be home early tonight.’
Silence.
‘Ali… tonight, can we… It’s getting on for eight months now. Can we at least…’ Tom glanced at the expensive looking red bag, its black tissue paper rustling under the fan above his desk – he’d sent Moira to get Alison’s favourite perfume first thing this morning.
‘Come home, Tom. We’ll talk properly then.’
‘But…’ Tom could hear Daniel and Jenny arguing in the background. ‘OK, darling, I’ll be home by six.’
‘Thanks,’ she said and hung up.
Tom felt tears welling in his eyes and brushed them away. What was wrong with him? Ali would be OK; it’d just take a bit of time. Was it Ewan’s predicament that was preying on him? Fuck no! That piece of shit? The complete traitor? Hadn’t he done his absolute best for him and got shit in return? Ewan could go and fuck off and what did he care if he got another job or not. He’d ballsed it up here. His role was gone. Anyone could see that. Did he have to always point out the faults in this place?
God knew he’d turned the company around. The balance sheet proved that. He’d been rewarded for that and before long, he’d get rid of a few a lot higher in stature than poxy Ewan, too. If Tom knew one thing, he knew how to turn things around. Armstrong’s loved him for that. Tom was on the way up and, with no doubt, the whole damn thing would be his. Property was his game and he knew how to play it.
Tom pulled the gift card from the red bag and picked up his pen. What should he write? Mustn’t sound trite. She wouldn’t be expecting this. He scribbled quickly on the card:- I smell this, I think of you, I want you. You are the only one for me. Always will be. Always Yours. Tom x. He stuffed it back into the bag and picked up his phone.
‘Moira, I’m leaving early tonight. If Austin asks, I’ve gone to inspect the Wilton site, OK?’
‘Absolutely, Mr McIntyre. See you tomorrow.’
As Tom drove into the yard, all the house lights were dark, including the yard lights. Six-thirty? Why? No fucking welcome, as usual. When he tried the back door, it was locked. Charming. Could he do nothing right? Well, they’d get the silent treatment from him, when he got in. There’d been quite enough unpleasantness thrown his way today, and he wasn’t up for any more. Let them feel his wrath for a change. Sick of kow-towing to the world. Fuck them all. Had they no idea of what he was dealing with at work? Well, why would they? No-one spoke to him at home anymore. He almost threw the red bag into the bin but instead looped the corded handles around his wrist and dug in his pocket for his keyring.
Before he could put his key in the lock, using his phone to light the way, the door opened. Alison stood there, smiling. Had she had her hair done? She looked different.
‘Hello, Stranger,’ she said, stepping to one side to let him in. ‘Can’t remember the last time we saw you before ten p.m. on a work night.’
Daniel was right behind her, smiling his gap-toothed smile.
Tom felt disarmed, all his anger dissipating into the new light shining on him.
‘Hey, D
anny,’ he said, reaching for Alison’s arm.
He felt an almost imperceptible twitch as he got hold of her wrist, but it evaporated quickly and the smile reaching his lips was impossible to resist.
‘Hello, you two,’ he said, grinning. ‘Where’s Jenny?’
‘Oh, Jenny’s in trouble… again!’ said Daniel, a conspiratorial smirk on his face, glancing toward his mother.
Alison, however, with just one look, wiped the smile from her son’s face and he sidled back to his room, wordless.
‘Oh dear,’ said Tom. ‘Somebody wanted to pull the wool over his dad’s eyes, didn’t he?’
‘Danny can wait, Tom. We have more important things to talk about, don’t we?’
Tom sensed a resistance in her. Why was she blowing hot and cold? He leant into her and placed a soft kiss on her neck.
‘Let’s wait until the kids are in bed,’ she said.
After dinner, once the kids were packed off to bed, Tom lit all the candles, making the sitting room shimmer. He’d poured a large glass of red wine for himself and a tall glass of sparkling water for Alison. As he turned on some soft music, she appeared wearing the peach-coloured chiffon dress she knew he loved to see her in. Soft fronds of the material clung to her as she perched herself in the doorway.
‘Well, hello,’ she said, deep red lipstick glistening on her lips, long unseen makeup on her face. That unmistakable scent of Opium perfume filled the room.
It was so long since he had seen her look this beautiful and he had to stop himself rushing forward to hold her.
‘You look amazing,’ he said, tentatively pulling her towards him. ‘Does this mean that I’m forgiven, at last?’ This was what he wanted most of all. Her forgiveness.
‘Small steps, Tom. Small steps. It’ll take time, but let’s just say, I’m coming to terms with it all. You’re still you… I still love you.’
Tom felt tears pooling in his eyes. He put his glass down as he brushed them away.
