Balls Fore (Ball Games #4)

by Andie M. Long

  She reads my mind. My unanswered question of where her son is. Where our son is.

  ‘He’s in his bed. He was worn out from this afternoon. I understand you must be desperate to spend time with him but can we talk and arrange how that’s going to happen?’

  ‘Of course. You’ve turned my world upside down, Beth. I need time to process things too.’

  We stand in the lounge. I rub the back of my neck where I can feel my muscles tightening. Beth scratches her lip repeatedly.

  ‘God this is so awkward,’ she says. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been through every possible emotion, through wanting to wring your neck, wanting to scream, then being so excited. I’m mentally exhausted. How about you get us a drink and we start from there? Let's say this is the first time we’ve seen each other and you’re telling me about your son. Tell me about his birth and all the wonderful things about him. Then maybe later, you can explain why I haven’t been a part of it.’

  She nods her head and goes into the kitchen.

  She brings me out a mocha. I take a sip and taste the sweetness. She remembers how I liked my coffee. Yet I don’t have sugar now. Things have changed. I let it go for now. There are bigger issues than sugar.

  Beth gets a photograph album out from a sideboard. ‘There are thousands of photos of Trey on my computer and memory sticks because I can’t stop taking photos of him. I’ll copy a selection over for you. I print the odd ones out though and they’re in here.’

  She sits on the sofa and lays the photo album on her knee. The only way we can both view it is if she gets closer. I see her bite her lip before she goes for it, closing the gap between us. I feel her thigh brush mine. My dick hardens, betraying bastard. It’s what caused this in the first place. I concentrate on the photographs as she turns the cover page over. There is my son - newborn. Beth is looking at the camera with what can only be described as a glow on her face, a look of utter joy despite what I imagine would have been hours of labour, though how would I know? Our son is held against her chest. She is so proud. There’s a deep ache, a hollowness in my chest. If I’d have known, how would I have been on that day? Would my face have been like hers?

  ‘Trey Andrew Woods was born on the Fourteenth April two thousand and thirteen after a seventeen-hour labour. He was a full two weeks overdue.’

  ‘Andrew?’

  ‘My father’s name.’

  ‘Right.’ That fact clarifies how little knowledge we have of each other.

  Beth takes me through the rest of the album. I ask a few questions but mainly listen to Beth narrate our son’s first few years. I realise that she can tell me stories but I’ll never get those years back.

  Album finished I stand up quickly, away from her. I tap my foot. Fidget. ‘He needs to learn I’m his dad. I want time with him. It’s my right.’

  Beth’s shoulders slump. ‘I realise that. Come visit him tomorrow. We’ll tell him, together.’

  ‘Why can’t I see him now? I’m here now. He’s my son. I want to see him.’

  ‘Keep your voice down. He’s asleep. There are more important things than you.’

  ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ I sneer.

  ‘You can go upstairs to look at him if you keep quiet.’

  I hate that she’s right. I want to wipe that sanctimonious look from her face. Instead, I follow her upstairs where she carefully opens the door a crack and I peer at my son. He’s out of his covers, stretched across his bed. He looks so peaceful. I want to hold him in my arms and yet he’s out of reach right now.

  After a few minutes, Beth indicates that I need to go back downstairs. I reluctantly let her close his door.

  As we stand in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, my fingers tap against my thigh. I realise what I’m doing, stop and clench and flex my fist. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow. Then I want to spend some time with my son. Alone.’

  Her eyes narrow and she widens her stance. Her shoulders straighten back and she looks like a Mama Lion who has her cub threatened. I guess that’s exactly what she is. ‘You can have him on your own when I recognise he’s used to you. When I agree it's safe.’

  ‘Are you saying I can’t be trusted? I’ll go to court if I have to.’

  She sighs heavily, like I’m being a nuisance. ‘Leo, I’m not asking this because I don’t want you to see him. I’m his mum. I’ve taught him to be nervous of strangers. He’s not going to be your best friend tomorrow and just go out with you. Also, I’ve not seen you for years. I want to see a police check. I’m sure there’s nothing for me to be concerned about but I’m going to do it anyway. For my son.’

  ‘Our son.’

  Her shoulders slump. The fight has left her.

  ‘Please don’t take me to court. I can’t afford to defend myself against you.’

  Beth’s voice is becoming louder and more panic stricken with every sentence. Suddenly I visualise our roles reversed. A scared mother. A virtual stranger. But who’s to blame for that? It’s not me.

  ‘I’ve no intention of scaring my son. I have a DBS check that’s up to date and I’ll bring it with me tomorrow. You’ll find out I’m not so different from the man you abandoned four years ago.’

  Beth looks downward. She says nothing.

  ‘I’ll tell you what. Let's make a temporary deal. I’ll not blame you for robbing me of three years of my son’s life if you try and trust me to do what’s best for him.’

  ‘Temporary?’ Beth looks confused.

  ‘Well, I’ve yet to hear the amazing reason I was kept from him.’

  ‘I didn’t want Trey to impede your career.’

  I laugh before I realise her words aren’t a joke.

  ‘Let me clarify. You didn’t tell me you were pregnant because of my golf?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You’re taking the piss. It’s ridiculous.’

  Her jaw tenses. ‘Not to me it isn’t.’

  ‘I could have played golf around having a son.’

  ‘Joe told me your mind needed to be focused. A baby would have interfered. He said you were the sort of bloke to give it all up to stay home. He made it clear what we would take away from you. I couldn’t do that. Make you feel you had to stay with us. You’d have resented us eventually.’

  I bring my hand to my head as tension pounds my temple. I wince. ‘Joe knew?’

  Joe. My agent and best friend. Past tense. When my career ended so did our friendship. Money grabbing fucker moved onto the next big thing, his paychecks from me gone. Joe knew and never said?

  ‘I came to visit you. To tell you. Joe was there. We talked.’

  My voice rises. ‘I’ll fucking kill him!’

  Beth gives me a warning look and uses her hand in the small of my back to move me back into the lounge.

  ‘He talked sense. You had a chance to be a huge success. You didn’t need to be trapped.’

  My voice rumbles like thunder. ‘Do you not think I should have been the judge of that? Do I not have a brain in my head?’

  ‘I did what I thought was right at the time. You’d just landed a huge tour. We were fuck buddies.’

  ‘Is that what you thought we were? Truly?’

  ‘That’s how I thought you saw us. We met in hotel rooms.’

  I wave her away. ‘Jesus Christ. I can’t take this. My head’s fucked.’

  ‘Leo, if I messed up I can’t rewind time. We can only move forward.’

  ‘I can’t take any more of this. God, I need to think.’ I rush to the hallway and grab my coat. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow. Er, I’ll call before I come over.’

  ‘Leo-’

  ‘Don’t.’

  Beth nods. I can tell she’s barely holding it together. How can one part of me want to strangle her while the other wants to carry her up to bed and make up for lost time?

  I head to my car. Then I race around the streets of Rotherham. Eventually, I’m pulled by a traffic cop. As soon as he sees it's me, an auto
graph and a warning and I’m on my way home.

  Then I realise I didn’t get my photos.

  A huge house in Whiston and not even a small photo of my son. My life is so fucked up.

  Chapter Six

  Tim

  ‘Camille and Tyler are joining us for lunch at The Red Lion today,’ Dora informs me. ‘Family meeting.’

  My eyes widen. ‘Why? What’s the matter? Are they okay?’

  ‘They’re okay, but we need to talk about Beth.’

  I sigh and scratch my eyebrow. ‘It’s nothing to do with us Dora.’

  Dora’s voice rises. ‘Like Hell it isn’t. We’ve known that girl since she was small. We’re going to make sure she’s okay.’

  ‘She’s got her own parents to help her with that, love.’

  ‘The television zombies? They might have to break off from a programme to help. That ain’t going to happen.’

  I’m wasting my breath. I can only attend the family meeting and attempt to reign in my partner's plans.

  The Red Lion’s Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes are the best. I’m heartily tucking in when Dora informs me I’m going to be taking golf lessons. Not just me, but Tyler too.

  ‘But I don’t even like golf,’ moans Tyler.

  Dora shakes her head while swallowing a mouthful of food. ‘I don’t care. You and your dad need to keep a closer eye on this Leo. I need facts. Think of it as a spy mission. I want to know what went on between him and Beth.’

  ‘A spy mission? Oh, wow. I must wear black. Spies wear black don’t they? I’ll watch James Bond this afternoon, get some tips.’

  My son’s lost it. His mother knows exactly how to play him.

  ‘So when am I taking this lesson?’ I ask her.

  ‘Tomorrow at seven pm. I’ve booked you one each at the moment. Book another if you feel you can get more information.’

  ‘You do know I already play golf?’ I huff.

  ‘Yeah, well you can learn how to play better, or are you suggesting your game’s so good you don’t need a lesson from a championship golfer?’

  And now I’ve lost too. Dora’s bloody good at strategy. She should be used by the government.

  Camille stops eating. ‘I wonder how she’s getting on?’

  Dora puts a hand on Cam’s arm. ‘I’m sure she’ll be okay, love. She’ll just have to get used to Leo being around.’

  ‘I said I should have gone there. You wouldn’t be wondering if you’d let me go round like I wanted. I could have supervised Trey while they talked, and I’d have eavesdropped,’ adds Tyler. ‘Trey loves his Uncle Ty.’

  ‘Yeah cos he identifies with you on the same wavelength, toddler brain,’ says Cam.

  ‘Oi, kids,’ I reprimand them before they start the tit-for-tat arguing that drives me insane.

  ‘Such a mess.’ Dora adds. ‘What we need is for them to fall in love again.’

  ‘Oh my God, no,’ we all yell at once.

  ‘Why not? It would solve everything.’

  Camille shakes her head at Dora. ‘Do not even think of doing any matchmaking, Mum, they need to work things out for themselves. They’ve got to establish a way of Leo being in Trey’s life.’

  ‘Exactly,’ says Dora. ‘So if they were back in love and lived happily ever after, it would be sorted, wouldn’t it?’

  We all groan.

  ‘I’ll call her this week on the pretence of asking her about the business,’ adds Dora, ‘Check how the land lies.’

  I take an extra large gulp of my pint of bitter.

  ‘By the way, I’ve been practising my chocolate penis making,’ Dora says rather too loudly.

  I splutter out some of my beer.

  ‘I thought Beth said to hold off on that side of things?’ adds Camille.

  ‘Yes, but I still need to practice for when I’m ready to expand. I’ve been experimenting with chilli.’

  ‘I love dark chocolate with chilli,’ says Tyler, ‘but I’m not eating a penis for no-one. Can you make some tits? It’s sexist to only make dicks, Mum.’

  ‘Well, maybe, but this is a special type of chilli. I saw it on a Facebook ad and thought it was perfect. Hold on.’

  She picks up her phone from the table and searches.

  ‘Here we go.’

  ‘Novelty penis shaped chillies. Oh my God,’ says Camille. ‘Some of them really do look like dicks.’

  ‘So I’m going to use them for a variety of choc willy.’

  ‘Dora. What have you been looking up that’s led to penis chilli’s being advertised in your sidebar?’ I ask.

  ‘I have no idea,’ she says sweetly.

  ‘Well just make sure you don’t touch mine when you’ve handled them,’ I add. The thought makes me cross my legs.

  ‘Gross. TMI,’ yells Cam.

  I decide to change the subject. ‘So, let’s get this straight then,’ I say. ‘Myself and Tyler are having a golf lesson tomorrow night to extract as much information as we can out of Leo. Then you will call on Beth?’

  ‘Yes, at the same time. To see if she still has feelings for him. That’s what we’re doing. We must check if there’s anything there. Cam, you can come with me. We’ll make it a girly night. Bring wine.’

  ‘Beth doesn’t drink in the house in case Trey needs her.’

  ‘That girl needs to lighten up a bit. Oh, and you can come and pick me up because I can’t drink and drive.’

  ‘What about me?’ says Cam. ‘What if I want a drink?’

  ‘Okay, get Dylan to pick us up and take us, then we can both drink.’

  ‘I bet that bloke scarpers before your wedding day,’ Tyler says. ‘Cos his balls are retreating.’

  Cam pulls out her tongue at her brother.

  ‘Oh, so that’s how you keep him.’

  ‘Ew, Tyler you did not just go there.’

  ‘Okay enough you two,’ I tell them. ‘Let's enjoy the rest of lunch now Operation Matchmaker is outlined.’

  ‘I love it when our family pulls together,’ says Dora. ‘I wonder if there’s a book on how to matchmake couples when children are involved.’

  ‘Do not Google matchmaking and children or you’ll be in jail with half the celebrities from the eighties,’ I tell her.

  My joke receives an eye-roll in return, but a smile follows. I’ve still got it.

  Chapter Seven

  Beth

  It’s safe to say I’ve barely slept. However, being a single mum to a three-year-old, I’m used to it. My mind whirled all night, going through differing scenarios: Trey hating Leo. Leo taking Trey away from me in a court case where he has a high performing lawyer. I’m slandered to the point where I never get to see my own son again.

  Then my mind wandered. Remembered. My body jumping at every phone call, wondering if it was him. Songs on the radio reminding me of the night we met. Yearning looks. Not being able to get close enough to each other. Constantly touching each other like we couldn’t bear to be separated.

  How I felt if things had happened at a different point in our lives and had stood a chance at a relationship. How I convinced myself, by how we kept meeting up, that it was nothing more than lust. Even though my heart told me otherwise.

  After waking Trey and fixing breakfast, I send a text to Leo, saying that we are up and ready if he wanted to visit. My big girl pants are pulled up. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

  An hour and a half later, Leo is back in my living room. This time, accompanied by a large carrier bag from a sports shop.

  Trey looks at him and smiles. ‘Toy.’

  ‘Trey don’t be rude. It might not be for you.’

  ‘But toy.’ He pouts.

  ‘It is for you actually,’ Leo says and he pulls out a small golf set. The carry case is bright yellow and inside is a 7 iron, a putter and two golf balls.

  This is my first clue that Leo needs to practice the art of being around children.

  Leo hands Trey the putter. Before I can protest, Trey, being a three-year-old who has never s
een one before, swings it and hits Leo straight in the shin with a large thwack.

  ‘Trey. No,’ I tell him as he takes another swing and knocks a vase off the side, smashing it into pieces in the process.

  Trey heads straight for the pieces. I remove the putter from his hand and pass it over to Leo, who has yet to cease rubbing his leg. With Trey screaming at the loss of his putter and being stopped on his way to play with the broken vase, I hoist him on my side and move into the kitchen where I reach for a dustpan and brush. As I pass the fridge, I open the door and pass Trey a mini chocolate bar to distract him.

  We walk back into the living room and I put Trey down at the side of Leo. ‘Keep an eye on him while I sweep this up.’

  ‘God, yes, sure. Sorry about the putter.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ I tell him. ‘You just need to think about what you buy. It’s not a golf putter to Trey. He’s never seen one before. It's a stick like the Ninja Turtles wield. You can show him what to do with it in the garden later. It’s not a big garden, but it should be okay.’

  I’m clearing up broken vase when I’m hit in the back of the head. ‘Ow.’

  I look around and see a golf ball on the floor, still rolling.

  I place the dustpan and brush down with a bang. ‘Trey. No throwing in the house.’

  ‘I’m not doing very well with this toy thing, am I?’ says Leo, a bitter smile on his face.

  ‘Don’t think I got this right from my first day of parenting,’ I reassure him, softening my voice. ‘You want to see what he did to himself when I left him with a pot of yoghurt once. He looked like Casper the friendly ghost. I don’t think there was one part of him not covered in it.’

  After emptying the dustpan into the kitchen bin, on my return, I sit on the sofa and decide to go for it. I perch Trey on my knee. ‘Trey, sweetie. This is my friend Leo. Leo is your daddy.’

  Leo’s eyes never leave Trey’s as he waits for his reaction to this epic news.

  ‘You are mummeeee,’ Trey says then giggles. ‘I love you, Mummmeeee.’ He jumps down and then hangs off my knees, looking up at me angelically. ‘Mummy, choc choc.’