‘Absolutely!’ Spud grinned. ‘I’ve got my eye on a hefty rum baba with extra cream.’
Theo shook his head in disgust.
‘It’s bothered you, hasn’t it, this guy popping up after all this time.’
Theo sniffed. ‘It has. You know how you have those people in your past who just...’ He balled his right hand into a fist and punched it into his left palm. ‘They have that ability to get under your skin because the memory of them is so powerful. It doesn’t matter that years, decades have passed – he was a thorn in my side for so long.’
Spud paused, placing his pint on the tabletop. ‘It does you no good to harbour those thoughts. They cause stress and stress is not something you want building up inside. You’ve got enough going on right now.’
‘Haven’t I just.’
‘So, this move to Bristol, is it permanent?’ Spud asked, his tone neutral.
‘I don’t know.’ Theo looked towards the window. ‘I know we both need a bit of space to get our heads straight, but I don’t know if she wants me back, and I don’t know if I can go back.’
‘That’s a lot of “don’t knows”.’
Theo nodded. ‘Anna wanting a baby has always been the biggest thing for her, and so to find out about Sophie...’ He paused. ‘It’s knocked her for six and it’s all my fault. If only I’d told her on our first date... But the longer I left it, the harder it became and there was always a reason not to bring it up.’
‘Because you were scared to.’
‘Yes, I was scared to and now I’m scared of what comes next.’ He sighed. ‘I want Anna to be happy, she deserves happiness more than anyone, and I wanted to be the one to make her happy. But now...? I’m not sure if I can.’
‘And the Kitty situation?’
Theo coughed. ‘No change. I have no part in her life. She doesn’t want me to muddy the water for either of them, and I get it.’
‘My advice would be to let it go, let a lot of those memories go, the ones that trouble you.’
‘I know that, but what if I can’t let them go, what if they’re ingrained in here...’ He tapped his forehead. ‘...springing up when I least expect them to?’
‘I’d say you need to find a way to let them go, try harder.’
‘The problem is...’ He sniffed and exhaled, trying to compose himself. ‘...that right now I am very, very unhappy. And I shouldn’t be. In truth, I am sick of it, mate, weary with being this sad.’ He sighed for the umpteenth time. ‘I had everything and I was loved.’ He pictured Anna, again. ‘But it’s like I have nothing and it’s... it’s been this way for my whole life. I’ve been good at hiding it at times, but I’m aware of these fault lines running through my mind, and what leaks out of the cracks is sadness.’ He clenched his jaw. ‘And I’ve always felt that one jolt of fear, one huge knock and those lines might open up and I might fall into the abyss.’ He looked up at his friend.
‘Like when you got that letter from Kitty about Sophie,’ Spud said, ‘and you seemed to give up. I was worried about you then. Mind you, I’m worried about you now.’
Theo gave a dry smile. ‘I know that if I fall, I might never resurface. I’ve faced depression many times, felt it breathing down my neck, and it’s a hostile place to live and a place I never want to go to again. And I’ve always refused to talk to anyone about it. I took some pills and battled through. And it got better, a little.’ He clenched his fists. ‘But the state I’m in now feels different, it doesn’t feel like depression, it feels like failure.’
‘It’s not failure – it’s life.’
Theo shrugged. ‘I guess. I’m just thinking of the times when I have been happy. The moments, often quite brief, when I was with someone I wanted to be with in a quiet place.’ He thought of falling asleep next to Anna under a canopy of fairy lights in her tiny flat, and of the night spent on a camp bed in the front parlour of Mr Porter’s crooked cottage with the smell of wood smoke and kerosene permeating the walls. ‘This means I am capable of happiness, right?’
‘Yes, absolutely, and that’s really important.’ Spud spoke plainly. ‘Knowing when you’re happy and what it was that made you happy is like learning the code.’
Theo nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of longing for his wife.
‘You’re a good man, Theo, you always have been, and you’re one of the very few people I trust. You’re brilliant – I just wished you believed it.’
Theo blinked at his friend. ‘I tell you what I wish: I wish we had another pint.’
He raised his empty glass, doing what he did best, skirting over the sentiment, making light of the moment and swallowing the howls of distress and regret that rumbled in this throat.
* * *
Theo revved the engine and slipped the gearbox through its paces. He was edgy. Not even Guns N’ Roses on the stereo could lift his sense of apprehension. Having deliberated long and hard over what suit to wear and which shirt, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, satisfied with his appearance at least.
The traffic was heavy coming out of Cardiff, where he’d just dropped Spud at the airport for the first leg of his journey back to the US. As he crawled along the M4 towards Bristol, he began to lose his nerve. He put in a call to Jody.
‘How’s it going?’ she said when she picked up, knowing he had to be at the hotel in Bristol by 11 a.m. to interview the two final candidates.
‘Yep, good. Anything to report this morning?’ A small part of him hoped for a cancellation, a change in plans that would mean he could peel off at the next junction and go and find some breakfast. What were you thinking, Theo? What part of you thinks this is a good idea?
‘No, nothing to report. We’re all good,’ Jody chirped.
‘Righto. Well, have a good one and I’ll call you later.’
He ended the call and watched as the traffic miraculously vanished, leaving him plenty of time to make his appointments. He turned up the volume for ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ and hit the gas.
*
Theo stood and shook the hand of Phil Marshall. ‘Thank you for coming in. We’ll be in touch.’ He smiled as the man got to his feet and buttoned his suit jacket.
‘Thank you for seeing me and if you need any more information or have any other questions, then just shout.’
‘We will. Once again, thanks for coming in today, Phil.’
‘My home phone is best – I’ll be on it all day. So...’
‘Yes.’ Theo sensed Phil’s desperation. ‘Thank you.’
He watched him reluctantly leave the room; it was obvious he wanted to stay there and work on Theo until he said yes. He thought of Spud and the way Miyu wore him down. He smiled at the image of his browbeaten buddy, trying to picture him holding court on Capitol Hill, advising senior politicians on fiscal policy with confidence and then going home to try and negotiate bedtimes with a headstrong little girl.
He felt a new and unwanted pang of regret over Sophie, tried to imagine going home to her. Spud’s words filled his head. ‘My advice would be to let it go, let a lot of those memories go. It does you no good to harbour those thoughts.’ Theo wished it were that simple. He was going to miss his mate.
He stood and walked across the spacious top-floor meeting room of the city-centre hotel, taking in the waxed wooden floor, comfortable leather furniture and painted brick walls. He liked the nautical overtones, the porthole mirrors and the oversized rope-wrapped lanterns, approving of the nod to Bristol’s maritime heritage. They were a welcome distraction as he waited. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.
He was nervous. Very nervous.
He stared out of the window onto the cobbled courtyard beneath and tried to slow his breathing, thinking of how best to approach the meeting and wishing he was somewhere else. His eyes scanned the far wall to see if there might be another way to leave, a different exit, but there was none. He glanced at the door and tried to imagine Wilson walking through it. His stomach jump
ed when he realised that at any moment that was exactly what would happen.
There was no way he was going to give Wilson a job. No way on God’s earth, but the temptation to see his tormentor again, now that he had the upper hand, was one Theo could not resist. He had already decided to be gracious and kind, to be the better man. What he wanted more than anything was not revenge, nor even to gloat; he wanted answers, answers that might help keep his nightmares at bay. Not that he would ever have admitted this to another living soul. He now wondered if Wilson would even recognise him. It occurred to him that it was most unlikely that he haunted Wilson’s dreams in the way Wilson did his.
Theo made his way back to the desk, fingering the CV that sat in front of him, taking in the few facts: married, three children, aged thirty-four. It seemed almost impossible that that amount of time had gone by. It was as he read further that the door creaked and in walked a man Theo would have passed in the street without recognising. It was only his eyes that marked him out as the Magnus Wilson of old.
Shorter than Theo had remembered, and slighter, Wilson sported a dark, close-cropped beard and had been liberal with his eau de toilette. He smiled and walked forward with his hand outstretched, mimicking the many masters who had taught them that this was the Vaizey way. ‘Make an impression, boy! Hold eye contact! Command the room!’ ‘Magnus Wilson,’ he announced as he neared the desk.
Theo drew himself up to his full height and liked the advantage it gave him. He too held out his hand and met Wilson’s gaze. As they shook hands, he saw the faint hint of recollection cross Wilson’s brow; he was clearly trying to place the face, no doubt running through the database in his head, attempting to find a match.
‘Theodore Montgomery.’ Theo nodded and released the man’s hand.
‘Christ alive!’ Wilson smiled broadly and opened his mouth, seemingly uncertain of what to say. ‘Theo?’
‘Yes.’ He sat.
‘Good God! We were at Vaizey College together!’
‘Yes, we were. Please sit down.’ He spoke with an air of indifference, indicating the chair and watching as Wilson took up the seat.
‘How long is it since we’ve seen each other?’ Wilson shook his head in surprise.
‘A long time.’
‘I can’t believe it! Did you know it was me?’ Wilson glanced at the CV sitting on the desk.
‘I did, but only just before you arrived,’ he lied.
Wilson shook his head. ‘This is nuts, Theo! I can’t believe it. It feels crazy to ask how you’ve been, with so much water under the bridge. How would we start?’
‘How indeed.’ Theo wasn’t sure if Wilson was playing nice, had forgotten their violent relationship or simply didn’t give a shit. Either way, he kept his guard up.
Wilson carried on. ‘I went to a couple of the OVB reunions, but they weren’t really my thing. I know a couple of the lads that still go, but I’ve not kept in touch with many people.’
‘I would have thought the reunions would have been right up your street.’ Theo sat back in the chair.
‘Are you kidding? An army brat like me? I only had a place because the military were paying the fees and there were plenty who never let me forget it.’ Wilson shook his head. ‘I always felt like an unwelcome guest.’
Theo stared at him, shocked to hear Wilson describe his feelings for Vaizey in the same terms he himself used. ‘I didn’t know that. You certainly didn’t let it show.’
‘Yep, it’s true. My mum left my dad when I was a toddler, which now I have kids myself I cannot begin to fathom, not at all. I don’t remember her.’ He shook his head. ‘Even though my dad wasn’t an officer – officers’ kids routinely went to Vaizey – the MOD helped him out and so it was boarding school for me while he was in the army. He was often on tour and it was deemed better for me than going into care, and better for my dad, of course.’
In care, like my Anna, like the kids who will benefit from this project.
Wilson continued. ‘I used to spend the holidays with my old nana in Dorchester. For me it was like two worlds colliding: one minute I was roaming the privileged halls of Vaizey College and the next I was sharing a bunk bed with my cousin and doing paper rounds to get cash. I even had two voices – my school voice and my home voice.’ He shook his head. ‘I always felt split, like I didn’t belong in either world, not really. In fact I don’t think I properly became me until I met my wife, Julie.’ He licked his lips. ‘God, I am over sharing. Please put it down to nerves and the fact that we have history.’
Theo noticed that his voice now was a mixture of the two worlds, not overly posh and overbearing as it had been, but softer, more pleasant.
‘Are you nervous?’
‘Yes, of course! I want this job and I can’t decide whether our school days makes it more or less likely that I will get it, if I’m being honest.’ His eyes settled on Theo’s face and Theo watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall.
‘You treated me quite badly at school.’ Theo spoke the words slowly, a watered-down version of the long diatribe he had practised countless times over countless years. But today, with Wilson sitting in front of him, this measured approach seemed more appropriate.
‘I did, and I remember it.’ Wilson nodded. ‘I remember us fighting.’
Not fighting – you beat me up.
‘You came back from the summer break looking tanned and happy and I’d been stuck indoors for the best part of two months, staring at a rainy window, and my dad had only just gone back on tour and I was pig sick with jealousy.’ He smiled at Theo like they were old friends reminiscing, which only served to confuse Theo more.
A jolt of nerves fired through his gut, the reminder of not only the fight but that summer at La Grande Belle. ‘I can assure you I might have been tanned, but I was far from happy and even if I had been, that was surely not sufficient grounds for beating me up.’
‘No question you are absolutely right. I was a little shit to you. A proper little shit.’ Wilson chuckled, as if they had shared a joke. ‘Theo...! Well, I never.’ He spoke his name fondly. ‘I was made house prefect just before you arrived...’
A Theobald’s house prefect. Like Xander Beaufort – my brother.
Wilson coughed. ‘Anyway, I was cleaning Twitcher’s study one day when he took a call from admissions to say that you were arriving. I was earwigging and heard him say you were a close family friend. Oh my God! We were all panicking, convinced you were going to be a right snitch, running to your dad’s mate, spilling our secrets.’
Theo shook his head. ‘I don’t think I’d even met Twitcher until I started school.’
‘I hated you so much!’ Again, Wilson’s tone was warm, almost affectionate.
‘Why? Why did you hate me?’ Theo sat forward and rested his arms on the desk, keen to understand why he’d been the target, what exactly he’d done to incur Wilson’s wrath.
‘Are you kidding? There you were, jetting off on a plane in the holidays. You had everything I wanted. The best I could hope for was making cakes with my nana in her little kitchen and eating cheese on toast, squashed next to her and my cousins on the sofa. I’d never been on a proper holiday, much less on a plane!’
Theo pictured this and knew that he would have loved to have spent time in a cosy house, eating cheese on toast on a crowded sofa.
Wilson was still talking. ‘You were rich, like mega rich, and I had to put up with a second-hand uniform out of the lost-and-found box. And your dad used to turn up in that sweet navy blue Aston Martin.’ Wilson whistled. ‘She was a beauty – I remember it now, it was the talk of the school. And your mum...!’ He smiled. ‘I don’t want to sound disrespectful, but your mum was smoking hot! And how she fussed over you – I think we were all a bit jealous of you.’
Theo laughed. ‘Yes, that car was a beauty.’
‘Fucking smell... vomit!... bloody expensive... idiot!... what the fuck is wrong with him?’
‘But remember, that’s my mother you’re talkin
g about!’
‘I know! I know!’ Wilson placed his hand over his mouth. ‘But she was something else. We knew you had a flash house in London – the rumours swirled. God, you even had old Porter to keep an eye on you at school, and he gave it to me with both barrels every time I saw him. He cuffed me one right on the head.’ He rubbed his temple, as if the pain still lingered. ‘I was shit scared. Scared of him and scared of getting another one if my dad found out. You had it all, Theo, and I had nothing, and I found it hard to stomach. It wasn’t personal. I was just a messed-up kid. A very messed-up kid who was missing his mum.’
‘I guess that’s easy for you to say, but it was very personal to me,’ Theo levelled.
Wilson nodded. ‘I can imagine, and the thought of anyone treating my boys how we treated you...’ He shook his head. ‘I am sorry.’
The two men sat, letting the apology hang between them like a bridge. Theo visualised Mr Porter and heard his words as he reprimanded Wilson. ‘Here’s the thing, Mr Wilson. You need to be very careful that you respect everyone in your path, as you never know where they’ll pop up again. And, trust me, the path we walk is long and winding.’
Theo smiled at the irony. Isn’t it just...
Wilson sat forward. ‘Would you like to see a picture of my family?’ Without waiting for a response, he pulled out his wallet, holding up a slightly faded image of a homely blonde woman flanked by three young boys. ‘My oldest, Joe, only nine but plays good rugby!’ He nodded with pride at the photo. ‘And the other two are Max and Ben. Ben is our surprise. We’d agreed to stop at two, but you know what these women are like – persistent! – and after a bottle or two of Lambrusco, she took advantage and got lucky.’ He laughed.
Theo pictured Anna and felt sadness on her behalf. She too had been persistent but hadn’t got so lucky.
‘What about you, Theo, any kids?’
‘No. No kids.’ Apart from you, Sophie... Apart from you, and to deny you cuts me to the quick.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Wilson folded away his wallet and it occurred to Theo that those who did have children, Spud included, could only see his supposed childless state as regretful.
Theo Page 23
