by Levy, Marc
Keith was a strapping young man, built like a bear with a square jaw and intense blue eyes. Sally-Anne found him attractive, and had had a fling with him for a few short weeks before losing interest. Keith, however, was pining to get back into bed with her. Beneath his hardened shell was a willing lover with soft hands who gave Sally-Anne just what she wanted. But no matter how adept they might be between the sheets, Sally-Anne never grew attached to men. After six weeks, she would get sick of their antics and move on. Keith, however, had also managed to catch May’s eye, a fact that had not escaped Sally-Anne.
May suspected that Sally-Anne had broken things off with Keith just to clear the way for her to have a turn. “You can have him; he’s all yours,” Sally-Anne had declared, having returned home one morning after leaving him high and dry. May balked at being next in line after Sally-Anne, and got an earful from her lover in response.
“Come on! Get your kicks wherever you can. Don’t hesitate when an opportunity presents itself. Worry about the consequences later. Believe me, if you don’t, you’ll end up either bored silly, or becoming boring yourself, or both,” she concluded, before ducking off to the shower. May could see straight through Sally-Anne’s self-proclaimed rebel veneer into the arrogance that lay beneath.
Whenever May and Keith made eye contact, she had to struggle not to picture the dalliances that Sally-Anne had recounted to her from time to time. Tonight, however, when Keith mocked their project, May delivered a comeback that left him speechless.
“We’ll find our funding all right, and while you’re sitting on your lazy ass reading our paper, you can take your cynicism and shove it.”
The group sniggered in response, partly because it was the first time anyone had dared humiliate the pretty boy in public. Everyone watched as Keith rose from his seat, walked all the way around the table, and leaned over to apologize into May’s ear.
“You’re absolutely right. I hope you’ll count me among your very first subscribers.”
On a carpenter’s wages, Keith was barely scraping by and could afford little more than the bare necessities. And yet, he dug into the pocket of his jeans and laid a ten-dollar bill before May. “There, you can put me down for some shares in your paper,” he added before walking straight out of the restaurant, leaving everyone flabbergasted.
May ignored her friends’ looks and darted out onto the dark street after Keith, waving his ten-dollar bill and calling after him.
“Hey! You really think you can become a shareholder just with this? This’ll barely buy you the first few issues.”
“Well, then consider it an advance toward my subscription.”
May watched as Keith continued on his way, and then she stepped back into the restaurant, more resolute than ever. She would show them. First and foremost, she would prove it to herself. She would prove once and for all just how far she was willing to go. While Sally-Anne and May shared the same vision, it was for very different reasons, but their fates were now intimately bound. All that remained was finding the money to make the newspaper a reality, even if no one else would ever want it to see the light of day. That night, neither of them had even the faintest notion that bringing their dream to life would hinge upon a sinister crime.
May tried to chase away the memories of the wild drunken night that started everything. She wrapped the bedsheet around her shoulders and turned away. Sally-Anne moved in bed beside her and held her close as she drifted off to sleep.
9
ELEANOR-RIGBY
October 2016, Croydon
Maggie turned the key and found the flat door unlocked. As she opened the door, she could imagine a burglar already inside, pilfering away. She couldn’t count how many times she had begged her father to lock his front door when he went out, only to receive the same stock response every time: he had been living there forever and never had any issues.
She hung her coat on a hook and moved down the hall, completely writing off the kitchen; Mum would never choose her husband’s favorite room as a hiding place. The task was so daunting, Maggie had to cut corners. Why waste time on something so pointless? It was a lost cause from the start. But, no matter. Best to tackle the master bedroom, then the bathroom and toilet—or maybe start with the loo, in the hope of finding a secret compartment or a trapdoor. She decided to leave the front door unlocked. All her father would do if he found her sneaking about would be to pat her on the shoulder, smile, and say, “Always expecting the worst, Maggie! Why snoop around when you could just ask?”
Just then, a hand actually did land on Maggie’s shoulder, and she cried out with shock. She turned to find her father staring right back at her with wide eyes.
“Well, what in the world are you doing in here?” he asked. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
“I, uh . . . I . . .” she stammered.
“Yes, you . . . ?”
“I thought you were out to lunch with Elby.”
“I certainly was supposed to be, but wouldn’t you know it, the Austin is being finicky. The old girl just won’t start! I’ll have to go have a look under the bonnet, see where the trouble is . . .”
“She could have at least let me know,” Maggie growled under her breath.
“The Austin?”
“Elby!”
“Eleanor-Rigby should have at least let you know that my car broke down?” he asked with a kindhearted laugh. “Always picking fights with your sister. You know, I wish you two would cut it out. I can’t stand watching you squabble. I’ve been waiting thirty years for the pair of you to grow up and act like adults. And rest assured, this is the very same lecture I give her every time she, uh, well . . .”
“Every time she what?”
“Oh, nothing.” Ray sighed. “Would you please just tell me why you’re here in the first place, darling?”
“I came . . . looking for some papers.”
“Come along now, let’s continue this in the kitchen over sandwiches. See? Even after my day takes a sour turn, I still get to have lunch with one of my daughters, and everything’s right as rain in the end. Come to think of it, it’d be best if you don’t mention this to your sister. If she starts thinking I lied about the Austin so I could grab lunch with you instead of her . . . Well, then . . .” Ray cringed, as though the sky could fall at any moment. He clearly wanted to avoid causing the dramatic episode of the week. He then opened the fridge and took out ingredients for a bare-bones meal, recruiting his daughter to help set the table.
“So. What’s the matter, pet? Are you broke? If you need a bit of money, all you have to do is ask.”
“It’s nothing. Nothing’s the matter. I just need to get my hands on . . . my birth certificate,” Maggie improvised, without a clue where that idea had come from.
“Aha!” Ray exclaimed, face beaming.
“Aha what?” Maggie replied, trying to stay calm and act normal.
“Think about it. All of a sudden you show up, absolutely needing to get your hands on your birth certificate. I bet you figured I’d leave lunch with Elby around 2:30 p.m., knowing just how long it would take to get back home with all these damn traffic jams. To think that these politicians throw billions into the wind, decade upon decade, and they still haven’t found a way to fix the common traffic jam! And here we are in the twenty-first century. I say they should all be kicked to the curb, the good-for-nothings . . .”
“Dad? You’re rambling.”
“I am not! Just reiterating my point of view. Anyway, don’t change the subject. Clearly you deduced that lunch would give you enough time to get in and out well before 4 p.m. Come on, admit it!”
Without a clue to what he was driving at, Maggie chose to stay mum.
“Aha!” her father repeated with a hearty guffaw.
Maggie buried her face in her hands, with elbows planted on the table. “There are times when I talk to you and I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of a Monty Python sketch.”
“Well, if you’re trying to make fun of me, the
joke’s on you, because I take that as a compliment. The only thing I find insulting is that you think I still don’t know what you came here for. Best hurry. Town hall closes at four o’clock, now doesn’t it?” Dad chuckled with a sly wink.
“Possibly. What would you have me doing at the town hall?”
“All right, it seems I’m to believe you’re redecorating your place, and you’re so very grateful to have come into this world that you’ve decided to hang your birth certificate on the living room wall? A ‘logical choice,’ Maggie, as Michel would say! Now, enough messing about. I’m sorry for being tactless, bringing up your engagement in front of your brother and sister. But now that we’re alone, you can tell me the truth.”
“The truth? I have zero interest in getting married, and the thought never even crossed my mind. I swear, Dad. There’s no wedding. Get the idea out of your head.”
Father observed daughter with quiet, wary eyes, then slid the plate of freshly made sandwiches her way. “Eat. You’re too skinny. You look like death warmed up.”
Maggie bit into the white bread, happy for an end to the conversation. Dad watched her chewing, then, proving once more that he couldn’t handle more than a millisecond of silence, said, “What’s so urgent that you need to get your hands on your birth certificate right now?”
“It was . . . my bank. They’re doing some kind of check on my account status or something,” Maggie improvised.
“So you need to take out a loan? Turns out I wasn’t so far off the mark after all—you do need money. It’s like a sixth sense with my daughters. If you were hard up for cash, why didn’t you come to me? Those banks will bleed you dry with interest rates, but if they owe you a single penny, suddenly money magically loses all value!”
“What makes you say that? Do you mean that your bank once owed you money?” asked Maggie, hoping she had uncovered some telltale morsel of information about her mother’s alleged fortune.
Her hopes were soon dashed when Dad explained that he had only been talking about his retirement fund. “Thousands of pounds saved that didn’t yield a single thing,” he explained with a sigh. “And why is it that you need a loan? Are you in debt or something?”
“Dad, forget about it, I was just trying to negotiate my overdraft limits, and that’s it. You make the tiniest request, and then, boom, you have to produce a mountain of paperwork! Speaking of which: Do you have any idea where Mum kept stuff like that, administrative papers and what-have-you?”
“More than an idea! I’m the one who’s in charge of that around these parts. Your mother was allergic to paperwork, you could say. I could go and fetch them for you, if you like.”
“Don’t bother. Just tell me where they are and—”
The doorbell rang, cutting Maggie off. Ray had no clue who it could be; he certainly wasn’t expecting anybody, and the postman had already been there that morning. When he swung open the door, he was dumbstruck once again.
“You? Good lord, did you really come all the way here?” Dad looked astonished to see me.
“What’s it look like? I dropped by the office and borrowed a car. The traffic was a nightmare!”
“I was just telling your sister the same thing.”
“Maggie? Is she here?”
“She is. But don’t think for a second that my car breaking down was some kind of excuse to have lunch with her instead of you! It’s the oddest thing, she just popped up all discreet and such, hoping I wasn’t about, all so she could—”
“Could what?” I asked, trying not to sound too panicked.
“Well, if you ever let me finish a sentence, I’d tell you. She was looking for paperwork. Apparently, she’s applying for a loan at the bank. Your little sister’s got a bit of a hole in the pocket, see.”
Right on cue, Maggie stepped into the hallway, glaring angrily, but I had come prepared. “Before you open your mouth to say something you’ll later regret, take a look at your mobile. I left you ten voicemails.”
Maggie retreated to the kitchen and dug through her purse, discovering her iPhone was in silent mode. She quickly realized I’d attempted to warn her over and over.
“You know, I may gripe about the Austin, but I should be singing its praises for this double surprise,” said Dad. “All that’s missing is Michel knocking at my door. I’ll go see what’s hanging around in the fridge. Had I known, I would’ve stocked up!”
With Dad relieved that he was in the clear for his car breaking down, I sat down at the table with Maggie. She gave me a reassuring nod to show that we were in the clear, too; Dad didn’t suspect a thing. As soon as our father stepped out of sight, Maggie grabbed her phone once more and laughed out loud upon checking the screen.
“I can’t believe my eyes, Rigby! You actually texted ‘Abort Mission’ three times! Talk about watching too much TV!”
Dad returned to the kitchen with a document in hand.
“Strictly speaking, it’s not exactly a birth certificate, but rather a printed section of our family tree. One validated by a Mormon notary public, no less! This should appease that banker of yours . . .”
I managed to snatch the paper from him and glance over it.
“Well, that certainly is weird,” I said, as my father fiddled with the switch on the electric kettle and cursed under his breath. “It says here you and Mum didn’t get married until after we were born.”
“Does it now?” he mumbled absently.
“It certainly does! It’s written right here. You’re honestly telling us you don’t remember the date of your own wedding?”
“Before you, after you—what difference does it make? We were in love then and stayed that way until the day she died, as far as I know. I’m still in love with her to this day, for what it’s worth.”
“But the way you always told it, you got hitched right after you reunited.”
“So what? So the truth was a bit more complicated than the stories we told while putting you kids to bed at night.”
“What do you mean by more complicated?”
“And here we go again with the third degree! Really, Elby. You should have been a detective instead of a journalist,” he grumbled, at last yanking the plug out of the wall and wrapping it around the kettle. “Of course. How fitting. My trusty old kettle decides to give up the ghost. No car this morning, and now it’s no tea. I must be cursed.” Dad grabbed a saucepan, filled it with water, and set it down on the hob. “Either of you have any idea how long it takes to boil cold water?” My sister and I both shrugged and shook our heads. “Neither do I, but it looks like we’re about to find out,” he said, peeking at the wall clock.
“What do you mean by more complicated?” I repeated.
My father sighed. “The first few weeks after we got back together were a bit tricky. It took time for her to adjust to her new life out in the sticks. Believe it or not, back then this wasn’t the most joyful place to settle down.”
Maggie scoffed. “Back then?”
“Hey, my hometown was nothing to write home about, either. Look, back then I had to work long hours at the office and she had yet to find work herself, so your mother was feeling quite alone, sort of just walking in circles around the flat. But she was a fighter, all right. She signed up for some courses, found some short-term work, and hey presto, she was a teaching assistant and later a teacher. Add a pregnancy on to that—the sheer joy of becoming a parent notwithstanding—and, well, it all takes a toll. You have no idea what that’s like, but hopefully one day you will! Anyway, without the means to buy a proper wedding dress or a ring, or any of that razzle-dazzle that everyone expects, we waited a bit before taking our vows. There’s the honest truth. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“So, Mum got pregnant how long after you got back together? How far into the second chapter of your romance?”
“Nice choice of words. I suppose you could say your mother hated the mere mention of that first chapter. Ten whole years had passed, ten years of life, ten years of beco
ming a new person. So, your mother really loathed the young woman she once was, to the point where she would actually get jealous that I had been in love with the ‘past her.’ She couldn’t understand how one man could have loved two drastically different people. Of course, it never occurred to her that I could have become a drastically different person myself! Of course not. Well, truth be told, I really didn’t change all that much, so maybe she was right. Your mother lived in the present. She rarely looked ahead to the future, and she considered the past to be dead and gone. The two chapters of our story were night and day for her, Old and New Testament, if you will. Two tellings, which never agreed on the coming of the Messiah.”
“So, does that make you the Messiah in her story, Dad?” Maggie guffawed.
“One minute, twelve seconds,” he said, eyes fixed on the boiling water and flatly ignoring the wisecrack. He turned off the gas and served the tea.
“That sure is quick. One minute, twelve seconds to get Mum pregnant? That must be a world record,” I persisted.
After adding a splash of milk to his tea, Dad studied us each in turn. “I love you both, no doubt about that. I love you two more than anything on earth, aside from your brother of course. But, good lord, you can be a pain sometimes! Mum got pregnant very quickly, just a few months after we got back together. Do you want to know how much you and your brother weighed at birth, Elby? Well, believe it or not, you were the heavier one. So there!”
This made Maggie laugh out loud, puffing out her cheeks and imitating fat baby Eleanor-Rigby until Dad brought her down to size.
“Not so fast, Maggie. You weighed more than both of them combined! All right, now that all your prying has ruined my mood, I think I’ll have a little stroll through the cemetery. Care to come with?”
Maggie hadn’t been back to the grave once since the funeral. Seeing Mum’s name on the gravestone was more than she could handle.
