Breach of Faith

by Andrea Hughes

  “I’m so sorry.”.

  “Oh, by the way,” Will said, ignoring me totally and rubbing absently at his bruise. “I’ve got a message from a friend of yours.”

  “A friend?” Had to be Martha. “Martha? What did she say?”

  Looking directly into my eyes, Will sneered angrily, “he’s on his way, Kate.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Your fucking lover, Kate,” Will hissed, “your fucking lover is coming here.”

  I stared at Will in horror, unconsciously putting one hand protectively over my stomach.

  “What do you mean? He’s coming here?”

  Will took a step closer, his intense gaze making it impossible to drag my eyes away. His eyes were bloodshot and bleary and he suddenly swayed alarmingly. Reaching out, he leaned against the wall.

  “Your boyfriend, Kate,” Will replied. “Your baby’s father, he’s here, in England.”

  What …? How do you know?”

  “I met him, Kate. The bastard told me all about it. All about you.”

  Pictures flooded my mind, Will and Frank, having coffee, analysing the night I’d spent breaking my marriage vows. “He told you about –”

  “He told me,” Will interrupted gruffly, “that he had something to talk to you about.”

  I was confused, “when–”

  “You wanna know,” Will shouted. “Well I’ll bloody tell you. It was on that damned plane. Bastard was right there,” he gestured wildly to his right side. “Right there.”

  Chapter Twenty seven

  The day before-3 January

  Looking at his watch, Will sighed. Still another hour or so until the plane was due to take off. After that, a long and boring flight half way across the world. He ran his eyes over the other people finding their own seats in the business class section of the plane and frowned; he shouldn’t be here, not like this, having to spend hard-earned money on a business class seat just because Kate –

  Of course he knew why she hadn’t said anything before; she was scared, guilty, embarrassed even. Who wouldn’t be. Admittedly, he’d been furious when she’d first told him and, if he was brutally honest, he still was. But he’d also found himself experiencing other, occasionally unexpected emotions; fear, hate, disappointment, envy.

  Who is he?

  Who’s the father?

  He looked towards the aisle as a stewardess walked briskly past, smiling widely, showing unnaturally white, even teeth. “Please fasten your seatbelt, sir.”

  Without waiting to see if Will complied or not, the stewardess Kathy strode off in search of her next prey. Will tipped a non-existent hat to her and did as he was told.

  “Please make your way to your seat, sir, the aeroplane will be taking off soon,” came Kathy’s authoritarian voice from behind and Will glanced back over his shoulder to check out her new victim. She had already disappeared as a worried-looking man made his way down the aisle.

  “Excuse me?” It was the worried man, although the concerned expression had changed into relief. “Is this row twenty four?”

  Will nodded and the other man subsided gratefully into the seat beside him.

  The take-off was uneventful and the meal mediocre. The drinks, however, were cold, delicious and decidedly alcoholic. Will settled back and closed his eyes, sipping on his bourbon and coke and rocking gently in time with the aircraft. He’d spent much of the time since hearing Kate’s news in a ragged state of disrepair. Alcohol had been high on the agenda, followed closely by sleep; blessed oblivion. A concerned Carl had determinedly squeezed the truth out of him one afternoon when Will had once again turned up for work red-eyed and reeking of booze.

  “What the hell is going on?” Carl had demanded.

  Will had stared blearily at his workmate, ‘s”not my baby. She said s”not my baby.” He grabbed Carl by the arm, almost pulling the two of them off balance, “dunno whose it is. S”not mine. Maybe yours – is it yours?”

  He’d cried then, for the one and only time since the truth had come out. Carl had held him tight, taking him into the small office out the back, away from prying eyes.

  Carl was a good friend.

  And now here he was, a few hours into a twenty four hour flight with no idea how he was going to greet the woman he was married to and even less idea how he was going to sort all this out.

  He opened his eyes and finished his drink, realising as he did so that oblivion wasn’t too far away, he could feel it. One more drink, maybe two, and he could stop thinking.

  Just for a while.

  As he ordered another bourbon, Will could feel the eyes of his neighbour studying him and resolutely ignored the man, not in the mood to talk. Unfortunately, the bloody bloke had other ideas.

  “Excuse me, mate, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  Will glanced curiously at him, for the first time taking notice. Now he mentioned it, this guy did look familiar. Will frowned and shifted in his seat, angling his body more towards the man beside him. He was usually pretty good with faces, so where –

  “Rowley!” he exclaimed suddenly. “You live in Rowley.”

  The man grinned and nodded. “I own a shop there.”

  Will grunted, “I live there too. I’ve probably seen you around. I drive a delivery truck,” he added, “for Tiger Freight.”

  The man held out his hand, “good to meet you, I’m Frank.”

  “Will.” They shook hands, ‘so, what do you do, Frank?”

  “I own a bakery,” Frank was still staring at Will as if there was something else. Finally he shrugged, “maybe I’ve seen you in there.”

  “Which bakery?”

  “Grains “n” Things, just down from the pet shop.”

  Will thought for a moment then grinned, clapping Frank on the shoulder. “That’ll be it, then,” he announced happily, “I’ve been there with my wife once or twice. She swears by your bread, she does.”

  Frank grinned at the compliment as Will’s drink arrived. Feeling magnanimous, Will ordered a beer for his new friend and decided sleep could wait. Just for a bit.

  *

  “What did he say to you?” I was totally shocked. Of all the flights, all the airlines, all the days to travel.

  “That doesn’t matter.” Will’s voice was brusque. “I don’t give a shit about your boyfriend right now.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Funny,” Will said thoughtfully, “that’s what he said.”

  “Will, you have to believe me. It was only –”

  “Believe you?” Will rounded on me angrily. “Believe the lying whore who betrayed me? Believe what, Kate? More of your lies?”

  “Will –”

  “Shut up, Kate.” He strode over to where I was sitting on the sofa and dragged me to my feet. “Give me one good reason why I should believe a word you say. Tell me, Kate, tell me why I should even bother listening to you.”

  “Will,” I tried to yank my arms out of his grasp but his grip was too tight. “Will, you’re hurting me. Stop, please stop.”

  As suddenly as the fury had come it disappeared. Will took one look at my face and let go of my arms, dropping down onto the sofa and putting his head in his hands.

  Shivering from a mixture of anger and fear I moved out of reach, sitting down on the arm of the chair and rubbing absently at my aching biceps

  “Did I hurt you, Kate?”

  I wrapped my arms around myself. “You know you did.”

  “Good,” he replied, not taking his eyes off me. “But your pain will go away, won’t it, eventually. Bruises fade, cuts heal, even the memory will become blurred. One day you’ll look back and wonder why you thought it was so painful. In fact, I’ll bet it’s already fading, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t move, didn’t want to admit that he was right because I knew where he was going with this and I knew that I deserved everything I got. And more.

  “Mine’s not, Kate,” Will said quietly, “everyday – everyday the pain is there.
Sometimes a dull throb beneath the surface, other times it’s so fierce, so … intense that I think I’d rather die than keep on going.” He banged his fist on his chest, “right here, Kate, right here.”

  I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. “Will, I … oh, Will, I’m so very, very sorry.”

  Will’s eyes travelled down my body, stopping only when they reached my belly. He frowned.

  “Sometimes I wish it would just go away,” he waved his hand vaguely towards my midriff and I put my hands protectively across my womb. If he tried to touch me again –

  “Other times,” he continued, “I just wish you would go away. Disappear forever as if you’d never been there. I love you, Kate. Love you so very much. Maybe that’s why I’m able to hate you so much too.”

  Abruptly Will stood up and I readied myself in case of violence. But, stooping to pick up his coat, he shrugged it over his shoulders and stumbled to the door.

  “I’m going outside to play with my children,” he said without turning. “Then I will go back to my hotel room and try to forget about you, just for a few hours. I’d appreciate it if you could stay out of my way while I’m with the kids. I don’t want to see you again today.”

  “Will –”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he continued, “and we’ll talk then. Just for now, Kate, just for now please consider someone else’s feelings instead of your own and respect my wishes.”

  And Will walked out the door without looking back.

  Chapter Twenty eight

  5 January

  I took the phone from my father’s hand and raised my eyebrows questioningly.

  Dad shrugged, “Australian. Didn’t give his name, just asked for you.”

  I nodded, already knowing the answer to my own unspoken question. After Will’s dramatic announcement, I’d been expecting Frank to get in touch. I crossed my fingers; please don’t let Will walk in now. Please.

  Oh, go on, contradicted my constant companion. Where’s the fun in that?

  I put the phone to my ear, “hello?”

  “Kate? Kate, it’s Frank. How are you?”

  He sounded worried. Swallowing the challenge hovering on the tip of my tongue, I softened my question, “Frank, what are you doing here? I told you I needed time away, time to get my head around what’s going on. I said I’d be back well before the baby was born, why didn’t you just trust me?”

  “Trust you? Bloody hell, Kate, you didn’t tell me anything, you just ran away.”

  “I left you a note,” I defended hotly, “I told you everything.”

  “The note?” A faint rustle of paper came across the line. “Dear Frank,” he read, “I’m so sorry. I need to get away for a while, to think and work out what to do. I haven’t been able to tell Will, not yet anyway, I just can’t think of the right words. He’s so excited about the baby and it would hurt him so much. I will tell him, I promise, I just need to find the right time.

  “I’m going to England for a while to stay with my mum and dad, but I’ll be back before the birth. By the time I return everything will be sorted out and I’ll speak to you then. I’ve asked my friend, Martha, to give you this note after I leave and she’s promised to pass on any messages you have. You can talk to her, she knows the whole story.”

  “You weren’t supposed to follow me,” I said quietly.

  “ I can’t believe we’re reduced to passing messages through your friend,” Frank replied. “Doesn’t it all seem a little childish to you?”

  “I was confused, and scared, I didn’t know what to do.”

  “It didn’t cross your mind to speak to me about it?” Frank’s voice was gentle but impatient. Why, Kate, why didn’t you talk to me?

  “I’m sorry, Frank, I didn’t … you know … damn,” I finished lamely.

  “You panicked.”

  Not a question but I chose to answer anyway. “Yes.”

  “I need to see you, Kate.”

  I stared out the window. The sun was out again today, shining brightly through the clean, crisp air, accentuating colours and giving the illusion of heat. But it was cold, so cold.

  Just as Will would be when he learned of this conversation.

  Just as Frank would be if I refused.

  I took a deep breath, “I know,” I conceded quietly, “where are you?”

  “The Towers Hotel. On the seafront.”

  I whistled, impressed, “very nice.”

  Frank snorted, ‘should be. Bloody room’s costing me a fortune.”

  I felt my face redden. He wouldn’t need to fork out all that money if it hadn’t been for me.

  Frank chuckled, “doesn’t matter, can’t take money with me when I die, after all. I just want a chance to speak to you, Kate. Sort a few things out. Even have a good holiday. Might not get this opportunity again. And that’s where you come in, Kate.”

  “Me?” I was distracted, still thinking about his money. Might not get this opportunity again; he must have been talking about how babies are financially draining little suckers, not to mention their demands on your time and energy. It was obviously his polite way of telling me that I had succeeded in totally ruining his life.

  “Yes, you,” Frank replied gently. “I need to talk to you, Kate. Something important, it can’t wait.”

  Bloody hell, maybe he wanted to get married.

  “Um … when?”

  “Now.”

  “Now?”

  “Can your parents look after the kids for a couple of hours?”

  I thought for a moment. Will was due to come over this morning, and he wouldn’t be very pleased if he knew I’d run off to meet Frank. On the other hand, if I could get a few things sorted out with the baby’s father then it could possibly give my some bargaining power with my husband; an olive branch to offer in return for mercy and compassion. And, to be honest, I owed Frank this.

  “All right. Just a couple of hours, though.”

  As we discussed a place and time to meet, I had the distinct impression that this wasn’t going to be as straightforward as I first thought. But it was too late to turn back. Frank needed me and for the next couple of hours that was the least I could do for the father of my baby.

  *

  The sun glinting off the shimmering surface of the sea was bright enough to hurt my eyes and I pulled my sunglasses from my bag and put them on as I jumped off the bus.

  I looked around, my attention arrested by the beauty of the sea, rippling gently against the shingle beach. It wasn’t often that this large body of water was so peaceful, so polished. I smiled; hopefully the serenity of the sea was a good omen, boding well for my upcoming meeting, mirroring the potential serenity of my time with Frank.

  At first glance, the foreshore seemed deserted; clear and bright it might be but it was also damn cold. Hitching my bag more firmly onto my shoulder, I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets and crossed the road. Frank said he’d be waiting on the beach, opposite his hotel so I started along the promenade.

  The formidable presence of the Towers Hotel was just a couple of buildings away. In the distance the pier stuck out into the calm water, a majestic reminder of times past. But Frank wouldn’t have gone all the way over there and I examined the quiet beach again.

  A movement caught my eye; yes, there he was, over by the rocks. I slowed, frowning, there was something about him, something about the way he was sitting that caught at my heart. He seemed so … alone: lonely. I bit my lip then stepped onto the sand, making my way towards the hunched figure. Maybe he was lonely but more likely, he was bloody cold too.

  , Frank waved as he caught sight of me and I smiled and raised my hand in return. He seemed happy enough as he clambered down from the rock he’d been perched on and met me half way, a cheesy grin lighting up his cold, red face.

  “Kate, it’s good to see you. You look great.” Frank wrapped his arms around me with a quick, hard hug. “How’s the little one?”

  He stepped back and I placed my hand protect
ively on my stomach. “The baby’s fine.” I studied his face and frowned, “which is more than I can say for you. You look bloody awful, Frank.” I fingered a bruise on his face. “What on earth happened?”

  Frank raised his eyebrows, a sheepish look on his face and I gasped, sudden realisation hitting me. Will and Frank, both with injuries, Will sarcastically informing me that he had met my “boyfriend”.

  “Will did this to you? Oh God, Frank, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. What happened?”

  Frank grinned and touched his swollen eye. “Well, unfortunately fate threw us together. But I was just a bit slower to realise it than him.”

  Chapter Twenty nine

  The day before-3 January

  Frank sipped at his drink and surreptitiously studied Will’s profile. He seemed unnervingly familiar and not for the first time Frank wished he could work out why. Not just from the bakery, there was more to it than that. Most of the people living in Rowley had been in his bakery once or twice, as Will professed to have done, and he didn’t recognise most of them. In fact, he would freely admit he was shamefully bad with faces.

  So, why did this face unnerve him so?

  The man was drunk and Frank was pretty sure he wouldn’t last too much longer before falling into unconsciousness. He was glad; it was okay to be friendly, but he was tired, so tired. He silently considered his options, all the time nodding pleasantly to Will and smiling in all the right places as the other man told an amusing story about his job. He didn’t want to be rude but it was already a struggle to keep his eyes open. Frank finished his drink and contemplated what to do.

  Option one, he thought, grimacing at one of Will’s vaguely disturbing jokes, I could pretend to fall asleep. A few significant yawns and a slow close of the eyes; it could work. Then again, I probably wouldn’t have to pretend, I’m so damn tired.

  He weighed up the pros and cons of option number one, coming to the swift conclusion that there must be a better way. It was ill-mannered and they did have to sit next to each other for the foreseeable future. His tired brain ticked it off the mental list.