by Jane Davis
'Oh, no,' Laura said disbelievingly, as Tom delivered the news to us in their flat. 'Apart from the fact that I'll be here on my own, if you're not earning, what are we going to live on? How will we pay the rent? You said your plan didn't involve being away from home. I won't be able to work if I'm looking after Andrea full-time. We can't just hand her back when it doesn't suit us, you know.'
'It's not my plan, love.' Tom spoke quietly with his head in his hands. 'I thought that we could manage without, but if we don't sell some more records, the contract will be cancelled and we'll end up owing them for studio time. It's money that I don't have and I can't ask the lads.'
'Is this true, Pete?' she demanded.
'I'm afraid it is. The band is obliged to do everything to help market the release, otherwise they'll be in breach of contract.'
'Well, why the hell did you let him sign the damned thing?' Laura post-baby was more confident: happier to speak her mind than she ever had been before, and less afraid to say what she thought. She had someone to protect other than herself.
'It's not Pete's fault.' Tom paced the floor. 'It's a standard contract term in this business. There's not one record company that would give out a contract that says the band doesn't have to tour.'
'We had a deal!' Laura was trying to contain her anger with limited success. Even though her voice was not raised, her colour was.
'Ten dates. If this doesn't work, I'll give it up for good and I'll get a proper job.'
'Two weeks,' she negotiated.
'A month.'
'A month, and if it doesn't work, a permanent job. And what will we do in the meanwhile?'
'Stay with me,' I offered. 'I'm not going anywhere and I can help out in the evenings. You might even be able to get some work done.'
'Oh, we couldn't,' Laura stammered, looking at Tom, suddenly unsure of herself.
'I was involved in arranging the contract,' I insisted. 'It's the least I can do.'
Tom turned to Laura. 'I'd be much happier if you would. I don't like to think of you here on your own.'
'I could go to my mother's,' she offered.
'Do you want her to think you've gone crawling back? She'll be bad-mouthing me the entire time I'm away.'
'Then your mother's . . .'
'Look.' I picked up my coat to leave, sensing that I was in the way. 'If I've embarrassed you by offering, then I'm sorry.'
'Pete, you're our best friend in all the world.' Laura looked at me appealingly. 'We don't want to take advantage. I always end up leaning on you and it doesn't seem fair.'
'I wouldn't have said anything if I was going to be put out. But just a suggestion. If Faye's not working at the moment, what about asking her to stay with you? She hasn't been home for a while and you must be missing her.'
They both started speaking at once. 'I don't think that's a very good idea.' 'Faye really doesn't like babies.' 'And she's not very well.' 'We'd love to come and stay with you if you'll have us.'
'Obviously another useless idea on my part. Was that a "yes" I heard in there somewhere?'
Laura smiled at last. 'That was a yes!'
'Well, that's settled.' I made as if to leave.
'Where are you going?'
'To lock all my valuables away.'
'Valuables?' she joked. 'You have valuables? You never told me.'
'Thanks, mate. You're an absolute star.' Tom shook my hand at the door. 'There's not many men I would be prepared to trust with my little girl. And there's only one I can trust with my missus.'
Trust. It's a very fragile thing.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I quickly learned that you can't live in the same house as a young child without getting involved. Andrea was fifteen months old and mobile; a handful. For the first couple of weeks, I felt that Laura and I were pussyfooting round each other. We were overly polite and constantly apologized as we got under each other's feet or passed each other in the narrow hall. Laura was excessively tidy and took a great deal of care to put everything back exactly where she had found it. Tom had trained her well.
I noticed how she gathered her dressing gown around her tightly when she was wearing night clothes so that they were completely covered, even though she was wearing far more than she ever did by day. The door to the spare room was always firmly closed, although Laura fretted that she wouldn't be able to hear Andrea in the room on the opposite side of the landing. I knew it was being alone with me that she was uncomfortable with, so I steered conversation towards Tom and the baby.
Despite the awkwardness, I liked the feeling of life in the house. Although I had wanted my own space, there had been a considerable difference between the idea and the reality. I had imagined a house where a stream of people would pop in for coffees, but I ended up working late and going out more than ever to avoid the loneliness. I hated the way my footsteps echoed in the empty, sterile rooms. Even if we didn't talk as much as we used to, I liked the sound of the clicking and whirring of the sewing machine as Laura worked. I liked the sound of her laughter as we watched The Two Ronnies on television. With Tom gone, we listened to very little in the way of music. I liked coming home to the smell of cooking and a shout of, 'The kettle's on. Do you fancy a cuppa?' I even liked the sight of washing on the line and the pram in the hall. These were all the things that made the difference between a house and a home. It reminded me of my parents' relationship. Not quite open, rarely honest, but always the consideration, always the cheerful front.
When I woke in the night to the sound of crying, I would listen for Laura's footsteps and the small comforting sounds she made. If Andrea didn't calm down, I would hear Laura move downstairs and put the kettle on. Only when they settled did I allow myself to go back to sleep. The first time that Laura didn't get up when Andrea cried, I wasn't sure what to do. I listened at Laura's door and thought I could just make out heavy breathing and the very occasional snore. I tried putting a dummy in Andrea's mouth, but I knew that Laura was not keen for her to get too used to it. I talked quietly to the baby and put one hand on her stomach, patting. When that didn't work, I picked her up and slung her over one shoulder as I had seen Tom do, and sang the first childhood song I could remember, 'Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.' Laura was delighted that Andrea had slept through the night for the first time since the beginning of their stay, but was insistent that she had not slept well herself.
My secret was discovered a few nights later when Laura got up to go to the bathroom and found me sitting in the box room singing to Andrea. I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me and turned round to find Laura standing in the doorway in the half-light, her dressing gown hanging loosely, exposing a pair of spotted pyjamas.
'Shall I take her?' she asked.
'It's all right. I haven't dropped her once yet.'
'I didn't hear her,' she whispered, more herself, 'but I was woken by a strange noise. Any idea what it was?'
I carried on singing, 'Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.'
'That's it! Have you been up long?'
'Half an hour or so.'
'I'll take her now, shall I?' She held out her arms this time.
'We're getting along just fine.'
'I can see that. I'm just worried that you're in court tomorrow and you might need your wits about you.'
'Hush, woman. You'll wake her. It's hardly worth my while going back to bed now. Why don't you try to get another hour or so?'
'I'm fine. At least let me make you some breakfast.'
'It's a deal.'
'You know,' Laura said, sitting on a spare chair, 'you're very good with her.'
'I've been practising these last few nights.'
'You've been getting up?' She was genuinely surprised.
'I'm a bit of an insomniac,' I lied. Instead, it seemed that I was awake as soon as Andrea was, in tune with every noise she made.
'And there's me thinking she was sleeping better.' Laura
laughed, propping her head up with one hand. 'Oh, God! This is exhausting.'
'Why don't you go back to bed?'
She shrugged my comment away. 'Maybe I should have her in with me. Then she might not wake you.'
'I'm enjoying it!' I insisted. 'The whole point of you staying was so that I could help out and you wouldn't be left to do everything yourself.'
'It was, wasn't it?' Her shoulders were limp and her feet pointed unselfconsciously inwards, strangely childlike.
'Bed!' I commanded.
'You're sure?' She yawned, looking at Andrea, concerned.
'When I was fifteen, I was regularly trusted with a neighbour's baby and I even got paid for it, if I remember rightly. Now, if I had been those parents, I wouldn't have trusted me, but that's not the point.' Then, without thinking I asked, 'Are you going to get her christened?'
'We haven't made a decision yet.' Laura yawned. 'I know Tom's mother would like us to. At this rate Andrea will be in school before we make our minds up.'
'If you do, I thought I might qualify for the role of godfather.'
At that moment, Laura raised her hand to her mouth and quashed a small noise. 'Excuse me.' She made her other hand into a stop sign. 'Hiccups. Drink of water.' She pointed to the bathroom and disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Tom returned buzzing with stories of life on the road and my two favourite girls returned to the flat above the launderette. The only thing that dampened Tom's enthusiasm was the fact that Andrea seemed to have forgotten him. What had turned into five weeks was a long time for a small child. Instead of 'Andrea's Song', the only thing that would settle her was 'Row, row, row your boat'.
'Couldn't you have thought of anything else? Maybe something with more than two lines?' he complained in Laura's direction.
'That was Pete's doing.'
'Pete?'
'I did a little of the night duty,' I admitted. 'It was the first song I could remember from my days as a choir boy.'
'A choir boy? Now I know you're kidding me.'
I pretended to be offended. 'I'll take that as an insult.' 'Well, you're banned from singing to my baby from now on.' He held her away from me protectively. 'I can't have it that every time I go away she takes ages to get used to my voice again.'
'Every time?' Laura raised her eyebrows, although her mood was still jovial, picking up on what she assumed was a throwaway comment.
'Too right,' said Tom, concentrating on Andrea, and I watched Laura turn away to regain her composure.
'So,' she asked when she turned back, deadly serious, 'will you be staying for long?'
For some time, I had noticed that they seemed to be storing up their most serious conversations for when I was with them. Although I couldn't call them arguments, I felt I was mediating some fairly weighty negotiations. Of course, I had no idea how things were when I wasn't there. I pretended to deliberately misunderstand.
'No, I think I'll be off now.' I bent to kiss Andrea's forehead. 'There's my girl. Don't you go growing too much before I see you next time.'
'Oh, you don't have to go yet!' Laura stood, physically placing herself between me and the door.
'Early start tomorrow,' I explained. 'It's going to be strange. I'm going to miss that little one. The house will feel empty.'
'Thanks for taking care of things.' Tom smiled. 'I wouldn't have felt happy going otherwise.' Behind him, I saw Laura bristle. 'Couldn't have done it without you.'
'I hope it was worth it,' I replied.
'Oh, it was worth it all right.' He winked and moved away from the door to shield the baby from the draught.
'See you soon, Laura,' I said. 'Pop round any time.'
'Thanks, Pete.' Safe in the confines of her own home, she was comfortable enough to kiss me on the cheek.
'Talk to him if you're unhappy,' I added quietly.
'I was going to when you so rudely interrupted,' she joked. 'I know! I shouldn't do it when you're there.'
'It's not fair on either of us. I'm beginning to feel as if I'm expected to take sides.'
'I want him to do well. It's not just being left on my own with Andrea. It's just . . . well, you know I've never been any good on my own.' There was a wobble in the corners of her mouth when she smiled. 'I thought things might change when we got married. Or at least I thought that I might feel differently . . .' She put one finger to her lips, hushing me or hushing herself, and closed the door.
I wanted to say, Enjoy him while he's here. Don't spend your time being angry. I wanted to say that she had known who he was when she married him. I wanted to tell her that if she wanted the boring, stay-at-home alternative she should have picked me. It was a good job she closed the door. I might have been tempted to tell her that she never needed to be alone.
It wasn't long before Tom was under pressure to tour again. Record sales had been boosted by the live dates, but the single had narrowly failed to reach the all-important top forty. The feedback was that it was a respectable start, but they had failed to capture the imagination of their audience. The record company wanted more live dates, a follow-up single and only then would they agree to the album. Tom was so keen to secure the album release that he would have agreed to any terms. After hearing Tom strumming it softly to himself, the single that they wanted was 'Andrea's Song'. He was strongly against this. Not only was it not a Spearheads' track; it was personal and had no place on the album.
'I'm losing any control I ever had,' Tom confided in me. 'They've got no interest in what we're about. They just want to see the money roll in. And I haven't seen a penny yet. It's not as if I can even offer a carrot to Laura to keep her happy.'
A second set of dates was scheduled and Tom tried to piece together money for the rent while he was away by working extra hours for his landlord at some of his other properties. The results were so good that there was talk about a further rent reduction in return for a certain number of hours' labour. 'Maybe he'll pay us to live here before long,' Tom joked.
'Which is great,' Laura told me unhappily as we shared a cheap bottle of plonk at the flat, 'unless you need cash to buy some of the luxuries of life like food and nappies. This might have worked when we were going out, but we're married and we have a baby. We never see each other. When he's here, he's either working or rehearsing. Or I'm so tired that if he offers to take Andrea for a while, I just try to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to feel as if I'm nagging all the time, but that's just the way it is at the moment.'
'Have you thought about going to live with your mother for a while?' I asked.
'Now, there's another thing.' She took a sip from her glass. 'She's been so unreasonable and rude about Tom that I'd feel I was betraying him. But there she is, all on her own in that big house. She's still getting over Dad, and Faye hasn't been home to see her. And here we are, cooped up in this flat that we really can't afford. But she's going to say: "I told you so. I knew that you'd have to come crawling back sooner or later with your tail between your legs . . ." '
'That's not bad as impressions go.'
'Years of practice. But the point is, she won't be able to resist it, because that's just the way she is. And I could probably cope, but Tom will see it as yet another insult aimed in his direction.'
'What about Tom's mother?'
'She's wonderful. Would do anything for us. But again, Tom wants to stand on his own two feet and not keep running home as soon as the going gets tough. I think it's called male pride.'
'There's always the garage. She'd never notice you were there.'
'Do you think he's ever going to make any money from the music?' she fired at me suddenly, as serious as I had ever seen her.
'I think that he just needs one lucky break.'
'One lucky break,' she mused. 'Is that the same lucky break that I would need to become a model, or maybe an actress?'
'He's incredibly talented.'
'I've never doubted that for one moment. And I know how committed he is. But it's goin
g to destroy him if it doesn't work out.'
'I know,' I agreed, nodding.
'And in the meanwhile, it's destroying us,' she said bitterly, shocking me with her honesty.
'Don't say that.'
'Why?' She was adamant. 'I'm the one who has to be realistic.'
'Because if it doesn't work out, he's going to need you to help him pick up the pieces. It's hard to give up on your dreams.' I looked her in the eyes. 'You can't let them go without a fight.'
'But you didn't fight, did you?' Inappropriate though it was, it was the first time that she had ever really acknowledged that I had feelings for her. 'Wasn't I worth it?'
'That's the drink talking.' I didn't want to reply.
'Well? Wasn't I?' Laura demanded.
'You know what you mean to me,' I muttered, trying to put my feelings to one side.
'I never knew exactly how you felt.' She put one hand over mine. 'Because you never once said.'
I looked at the table in front of us. 'I saw the way that you looked at him, and I knew I didn't stand a chance. And you told me that you knew you had made the right decision.'
'If that was true' – her eyes brimmed over – 'then tell me why it was so difficult?'
'Don't do this,' I said, getting up, not knowing how to react and deciding that the only rational thing to do was leave. 'It's taken a long time for me to think of you as just a friend. Don't spoil it now.'
Chapter Thirty
I answered the door with Andrea on my hip. Mrs Albury pushed past and closed it, looking at me accusingly. 'So it's true what they're saying,' she fired at me. 'You have set up house with my daughter!'
'Mrs Albury,' I said loudly for Laura's benefit. 'Welcome to my home. Laura's in the kitchen. Would you like a coffee?' And then under my breath through gritted teeth, 'Or perhaps you'd care to inspect the sleeping arrangements?'
'Mum!' Laura appeared in the hallway, 'We're staying with Pete while Tom's away.'
'And he knows about this, does he?'
'Of course.' She laughed off the comment as lightly as possible. 'Tom didn't want me to be on my own.'
