The Life Of Robert Peterson

by Paul Kelly

  “If I tell you, you won’t say anything to daddy, will you?” he asked and Freya stroked her heart and promised she wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone.

  “She wants to kill him,” Cameron said and Freya staggered a little before she sat down on the sofa.

  “She wants to WHAT?”

  Cameron looked away and studied the bedroom door where he knew his daddy was resting.

  “Please don’t talk so loud, or you’ll wake him,” he said and Freya took the little boy on her knee.

  “Cameron, this is a very serious thing to say. You do know that, don’t you, darling?”

  “Yes, I know that Freya, but it is what Sarah shouted down the phone, when I think she thought it was daddy who was listening and also the way she said it.”

  “Did she sound angry or was she just joking, do you think?”

  Cameron thought for a few moments before he answered Freya.

  “I think she must have been angry, Freya from the words she used. She used the ‘f’ word. Do you know what that means?”

  Freya grinned and gave Cameron a hug.

  “A word that you and daddy would never use ... Nor would I, unless ...”

  “Unless what Freya?”

  “Unless I was talking to this old witch, Sarah. That’s when I’d use it, but I’d have to be heavily provoked.

  At that moment, Robert appeared from the bedroom, stifling a yawn.

  “Oh Hello Freya. I didn’t know you were here. Cameron, did you offer Freya a cup of coffee,” he said, nodding towards the coffee percolator that Freya had given them, but Cameron heaved his shoulders , explaining that he had been ‘too busy’ but that he would do it right then. Robert invited Freya to sit down as he pulled his dressing gown around him and sat on the sofa.

  “I suppose you have a good reason for this visit, Freya. Have you?” he asked and Freya made her excuse that she wanted to see Cameron again and to see if the percolator was working O.K.”

  “Cameron’s fine, but I rather think he has told you of the telephone call from Sarah, hasn’t he?” said Robert and Freya stared at Robert in surprise. She felt sure that Cameron didn’t know that his father has heard the conversation until Robert satisfied her curiosity.

  “I have an extension in the bedroom,” he said “and although I didn’t hear all that was being said, I thought it might be Sarah and I checked on the 1471 call to make sure that it was she.”

  “And it was?” asked Freya as Robert sighed heavily and raised his eyebrows before he replied “she doesn’t like me very much.”

  Freya looked down at the carpet, afraid of what she might say next, but ready to suggest anything that might help.

  “Robert ... do you think she was serious and was it just an idle threat? You know what they say about a woman scorned, don’t you?” Robert nodded and bit his lower lip.

  “I think she would wish me dead,” he went on, “but only after she’s got what she wants from the divorce. I’d be no use to her dead if she got nothing, would I . . . and anyway, I don’t think even my death would give her any satisfaction without all my worldly goods and shackles, do you?”

  “Robert, I am serious. Do be careful of that woman. I think, if I may say so ... I think she may be a little unbalanced, What do you think?”

  Robert smiled when Freya said that.

  “Yes, I think you may be right, but they won’t see that in court when she simpers and cries in her very feminine way of doing just that, for the public. She’s not such a dragon when she’s trying to act like a lady. Why do you think I married her in the first place? I thought she was beautiful and talented and ... well, I married her after all, didn’t I?”

  Freya thought more carefully about what else to say to Robert as she could see that he was distressed and that there appeared to be nothing he could do about it.

  “You say you loved Sarah,” she said and watched the response.

  “Yes, I did” he replied, “I really did, but you know ... It wasn’t what you might say, ‘love at first sight’ as is usually understood. No, when I first met Sarah, it was at a dinner party at one of the schools where I was teaching. I didn’t think she was particularly attractive, but I think her music and her knowledge of music was the thing that made me think we might be compatible. After all, it was that lack of compatibility with Rita that led to our divorce.”

  “But wasn’t that enough then?” asked Freya as she showed more concern in her eyes.

  “No ... far from it. I had an attack of my MS. Nothing much, but I had to stay in bed for a few days and I think that was the final straw. Sarah, who up until that time had seemed to be very kind and even attentive to anything I needed, which again I must stress, wasn’t much. I am one of the lucky ones with this disposition. I am able to walk O.K. and apart from a little awkwardness if I have to stand on a stage or anything like that, where I get a little dizzy if I look down, but that spell of weakness was what did it for both of us.”

  “But surely she knew about your illness before you married her” Freya asked and Robert corrected her.

  “It is not an illness, I keep telling you,” he snapped. “It is a condition only. I am not ill.”

  “No, I understand that Robert, but surely she must have known about your condition. You did tell her, didn’t you?”

  “We lived with each other for nearly two years before we got married, so I thought after that time, that everything was understood. Wouldn’t you have thought so?”

  Freya lowered her head. She found it hard to understand how any woman could have married a man, knowing his ‘condition’ and yet dump him such a short time after.

  “I think ...” she started to say when Robert put his hand up in the air.

  “Did I tell you that Sarah was married before she met me?” he asked and Freya looked at him with surprise.

  “No ... I don’t think so. I think I would have remembered if you had done,” she said, but she was confident that he did tell her before about Sarah’s other marriage ... or was it Cameron who told her ... and Robert continued.

  “Sarah was married to the first guy for about the same time as she was to me. Perhaps even a little shorter time than we had together,” he said, “but she wasn’t very happy in that marriage either, I guess.”

  “She seems to make a habit of this, doesn’t she? Short stay marriages, I mean. Do you think it is her way of living where she can fleece some poor old guy after a few months of living with him and then making her wealthy and lucrative ‘goodbyes’ “

  ROBERT smile again, but more broadly this time.

  “So you think I am a poor old guy?” he asked and Freya apologized immediately.

  “No, no ... I don’t mean that, but there are some women who do this sort of thing. Vows don’t mean anything to them and loyalty and love, even less.”

  “Yes, I think you may well be right, Freya and that is why I have told you so many times that I would never get involved with another woman as long as I live.”

  Freya left Robert’s flat that afternoon with a heavy heart, wondering if she should continue her ‘chase’ for the man of her dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jenny bumped into Sammy as she was leaving her evening shift at the cafe and the encounter was anything but pleasing.

  “I see you’ve still got that ‘thing’ then,” he snapped, staring at Jenny’s tummy with a look of thunder on his face. She coughed as she tried to pass him on the pavement, but he moved in front of her to stop her in her path. “I asked you a question,” he went on, “but I can see how useless that was as the bloody evidence is right in front of me. My God, I never realized how ugly you look ... and even in the evening air, when most women pride themselves on looking good in the moonlight.”

  Jenny started to cry and Sammy pushed her against the wall, wh
ere he thought nobody could see her.

  “Shut your row,” he barked, “I hate crying women. You should know that by now.”

  Jenny straightened herself up and dried her tears with the back of her hand.

  “I don’t want anything more to do with you,” she cried out in the night air and her voice sounded hollow. “I’ll have this baby whatever you say or do and that’s the end of it, so why don’t you just get off and do what you have to do.”

  Sammy looked at her closely.

  “And what do you mean by that?” he demanded in a rough voice, “I’ll do what I like and nobody ... but nobody will stop me, do you hear?”

  “Oh! just go away and leave me alone.” Jenny muttered, afraid of what Sammy might do to her if she continued her conversation with him, but he heard what she had said and retaliated as he slapped Jenny’s face twice in anger, before he pressed his hand hard against her stomach and told her to grow up. Suddenly a voice came from nearby.

  “Hi there. What’s going on here, eh?” Sammy turned round to stand face to face with a policeman and he faltered for a moment as he squeezed Jenny’s hand and winked at her.

  “Just a little domestic tiff, officer. My dear wife here likes a little rough treatment on occasions, don’t you dear?” he said and squeezed Jenny’s hand again. She smiled and nodded to the policeman.

  “It’s alright officer. I’m fine really,” she said and the police constable tipped his helmet as he moved on, but Jenny pulled away just as soon as the policeman had disappeared from sight. “I don’t want to start any trouble,” she said, “but if you ever hit me again, I’ll make life very tough for you, young man.”

  Sammy laughed and tightened his grip on Jenny’s arm as he whispered into her ear.

  “And if you don’t behave yourself and do as I tell you ‘Old dear’, I’ll make your life a veritable hell.”

  Jenny stood up to him and pushed him away from her.

  “I don’t frighten that easily,” she snapped, “and whatever you do to me, I will make sure that you come off the worse for it.”

  With that she strolled off leaving Sammy to lick his wounds, if he had any, but she had decided in that moment to cut herself off from him entirely and have the baby on her own. She would look after the little one on her own and she was determined that she would do so, regardless of anything else that might happen in her life to put her off having her child. Others had done that before her and she would manage somehow. Of that she was sure. . .

  The following day Jenny met Freya, as she was coming in to the cafe for her afternoon shift and told her of her incident of the night before with Sammy.

  “That bastard needed castrating,” Freya shouted without realizing that others could hear what she had said, but she didn’t care. Sammy Boyle was a bad experience for any woman, she concluded, but how can you tell others that fact when he had such a charisma of a kind, on every woman he met, apparently. However, it was with this thought in mind that Freya decided on something that she hadn’t thought of before.

  She would contact Sammy Boyle and find out exactly how he was living and what was on his mind and she went home later that day after her shift at the cafe and sat down resolutely by her telephone. Sammy’s number was still in her address book, even if she had scored it through in red ink making it seem obsolete and she dialed his telephone number slowly and carefully.

  “Hello,” came a female voice from the other end of the line and Freya smiled. Had she made a conquest? Somehow she imagined that she had . . .

  “Oh hello, I’m trying to contact Sammy,” she went on, with the best seductive voice she could muster,

  “Oh yes, and who are you might I ask?”

  “Oh, I don’t think you would know me by name. Sammy has told me when he was with me last night that his mother might answer the telephone and I was to be careful what I said. Are you his mother, dear?” Freya cupped her lips with her hand as she giggled into the air, trying not to make a sound.

  “You were with Sammy last night, you say ... and where was that, may I ask?” The strange female asked and Freya giggle again quietly as she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Oh, I don’t think I should give you the details darling, but you have a very attractive son. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

  “Where were you with him,” came the following demand and Freya knew that her trick had worked.

  “I can’t tell you that, dearie, Sufficient to say that we made each other very happy ... Very happy indeed.” she said and put the phone down, however within moments it rang again.

  “I’ve got your number, you hussie and I’ll tell Sammy about this call when he comes in. Do you hear?” Freya grinned again.

  “Yes, I can hear alright, but I wouldn’t upset Sammy if I were you, darling. He nearly strangled me last night when we were ... well, you know what, don’t you and he gets very uptight when he’s excited.”

  There was a protracted silence on the phone at that moment and then a quieter voice came back again.

  “I know you’re not the only woman he’s had, but I don’t care a fuck about that. He’s with me now and I know how to please him, so piss off and leave us alone.”

  In the anger that came through on the voice and with the much softer tone, even if the vulgarity was extreme, Freya thought she recognized the speaker as she let the telephone fall into its cradle ... but she began to wonder as she pulled at a strand of hair that had fallen across her eye.

  She went to bed that night, more satisfied than she had been for a long time and resolved that the following day, she would make further investigations into the life and loves of Sammy Boyle.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next time Freya went to visit Robert at his flat, he was out, but Cameron was in and he was delighted to see her. She cuddled him as he wound his legs around her waist.

  “Daddy is not in at the moment, Freya, “ he said, “But I’m sure he’ll be pleased when he comes back to know that you are here. Can I get you a coffee form my ‘new percolator’?”

  Freya smiled in bemusement and enquired if the ‘thing’ was still working as Cameron laughed and ran into the kitchen’

  “Only be a jiffy,” he called out, “This thing works like magic. It’s black with only one sugar, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s right. What a good memory you have ... Oh! and whilst we are on that subject, Can you remember where I put my tape recorder after my last visit when we were together, huddled up on the floor of the bedroom?”

  “Yes, I remember. I put them away safely. Do you want them now?”

  Freya looked down at the floor, puzzled as to where the ingenious Cameron had hidden her ‘evidence’

  “Yes, I would if you don’t mind,” she replied knowing that politeness was important to the little boy, but surprised by his next reply.

  “I hope what we heard on the tape recorder will be enough to make that rotter swing,” he said as he produced the notes and the tape recorder from his bag.

  “But Cameron ... That’s not a very nice thing to think or say about anyone,” Freya remarked as she took the little package from Cameron.

  “I wouldn’t piss on her if she were on fire,” he replied and Freya’s eyebrows shot up in her face.

  “That’s not something a well mannered boy would say either,” she grunted, half heartedly and Cameron started to smile.

  “That’s what daddy says,” he said with a look of triumph on his face and Freya could only agree, even if she said nothing more on the subject.

  “Listen to this,” she said as she plugged the tape recorder into a wall switch and it purred its way into sound. “Do you think you would recognise Sarah’s voice from this recording?”

  Cameron stuck his fist up to his ear and with an old fashioned look on his face, he nodded his
agreement.

  “That’s her voice O.K. I would recognise the cow ... er lady, anywhere,” he shouted gleefully, but Freya ignored his logic as she listened herself to the voices more carefully. Robert sounded muffled at times, but Sarah’s voice was sharp and almost ‘tearing’ to the ear.

  “I thought I had heard that voice before,” she remarked as she pulled the connection from the wall plug and the tape recorder became quiet again.

  “What do you mean?” asked Cameron as he screwed his face up with curiosity, “What do you mean when you say that you had heard Sarah’s voice before? I think you may have met her here at the flat when you and Rita were here.”

  “Yes, that’s true. I heard her then, but I heard her again even more recently than that, Cameron.”

  Cameron started to scratch his head as the front door opened and ROBERT came into the room. He looked pale and tired as he sat down heavily on the sofa.

  “Robert, are you alright?” asked Freya with concern, “You look done in. Can I get you a cup of tea or something or better still have you any brandy in the house?”

  Robert closed his eyes and spoke in a low tone.

  “I’m alright. It’s just one of my turns. Don’t pay any attention. I have quite a few of these, “ he muttered, but neither Freya or Cameron would listen to his excuse as Cameron ran into the kitchen where he pulled a chair over to stand on as he reached up to one of the cupboards.

  “Is this alright Freya,” he asked, but when Freya looked at the bottle he had found, she discovered it was whisky.

  “That’s O.K.” she said and poured a little of the spirit into a mug, “It will do fine.”

  Cameron watched her as she lifted Robert’s head carefully and held the mug to his lips. He screwed up his face and Cameron coughed.

  “Daddy likes a little water in it, Freya,” he said, but Freya ignored his plea as she continued to hold the mug where Robert could drink easily. He opened his eyes and smiled.