by Carys Jones
After the raised voices of Parliament, the silence within Charles’ office felt more penetrating than usual. He had smiled and greeted Faye as he walked in and she had returned the gesture, her grin masking the cold sense of indifference she now felt towards him.
With the door safely secured behind him, Charles revelled in the absence of sound. He sat behind his task and soaked up the serene atmosphere. He was happiest at times like these, when everything was calm and quiet. The media circus which came attached to his job had always felt like such a hindrance but Elaine adored it. At functions she would pose for the cameras and flash them an insincere smile whilst Charles hovered awkwardly at her side. He was in it for the politics; she was in it for the fame.
Charles had always been aware of his wife’s intentions and there was a time that he believed that their differing agendas complemented one another well. She had handled the publicity side of things, leaving Charles free to focus solely on governing the country. But it soon became apparent that the differences between himself and his wife, now more evident than ever, were ultimately pulling them apart.
‘I don’t understand it Charles, why aren’t you happier?’ Elaine would protest as he reluctantly put on his shirt for yet another gala evening. ‘The entire country knows and loves you,’ she continued as she knotted her husband’s bow tie.
‘It’s just not me,’ Charles would sigh sadly.
‘Well, you are the Deputy Prime Minister now,’ Elaine said firmly, placing her hand beneath Charles’ chin and raising his face skyward. ‘It has to be you.’
For a long time, Charles struggled to identify why, despite having reached the pinnacle of his career, his life still felt empty and meaningless. He couldn’t discuss these feelings with Elaine as she would automatically jump to the incorrect conclusion that it was because she couldn’t have children, which would cause things to escalate into an argument which he didn’t want.
It wasn’t until Charles met Lorna that he finally realised what the cause of the vacuous hole within him was; he had never before known love. It sounded so contrite and cookie-cutter, but Charles knew it was the truth. Being with Lorna made him feel alive, as though before he had been living as a ghost. He continued to regret his decision to choose his career over Lorna. He should have ended things with Elaine and turned his back on politics over a year ago, and then he could have been with Lorna and been happy. But then there was Laurie.
Laurie made Charles feel alive but in a completely different way to Lorna. When they spoke, she engaged his very soul and it was enlightening. With Lorna, their relationship had very much been physical. Now, when he thought of Laurie, he wanted more than anything to consummate what he felt certain was between them. But he was determined to do things correctly this time. He would date Laurie, he would woo her, he would be normal for her.
He was too blinded by his own feelings to ever consider that they perhaps weren’t reciprocated.
The mobile phone in his jacket whirred to life and Charles retrieved it and glanced at the screen, feeling his heart sink when he saw Elaine’s name. He pressed the cancel button, sending her to voicemail already knowing what she would say. She would chastise him for appearing bored during Parliament. She always watched the live broadcasts from home and then tore him apart afterwards. What began as constructive criticism, quickly descended into a character assassination.
‘You were on television?’ Lorna asked excitedly one evening when they were together after Charles had spent the afternoon in Parliament.
‘Yes, on the BBC,’ the Deputy Prime Minister had answered, suddenly feeling shy and incredibly self-conscious.
‘Oh,’ Lorna had answered, her tone lowered in disappointment.
‘Oh?’ Charles echoed with interest.
‘I don’t watch the feed from the House of Commons,’ Lorna explained, her cheeks flushing with slight shame which Charles found endearing.
‘Why not?’
‘Because people behave appallingly in there. They shout and bark at one another with the vagrant demeanour of schoolboys. It’s embarrassing to see the people who are supposed to be leading this country behaving this way.’
‘It gets heated in there because everyone is passionate about running the country and people aren’t always going to agree about how things should be done.’
‘But there is a proper way to air your grievances and shouting isn’t it,’ Lorna declared sternly.
On reflection, Charles theorised that whilst Lorna disproved of the conduct within the House of Commons, Laurie would probably lap it up. Laurie devoured the news with interest and had an opinion on every political agenda. He found himself wondering with boyish interest if Laurie had watched him on television earlier that day. He hoped that she had, but he hoped that it had not been out of political interest.
His mobile phone vibrated again and Charles sighed in frustration but then felt his mood immediately lift when he saw that the movement was signalling a received text from Laurie. He eagerly opened the message to read it, his heart racing with anticipation.
Things weren’t good at home so coming back to London today. See you tomorrow x
The addition of a kiss on the end of the message left Charles feeling elated. He read those few words over and over until they were permanently etched into his memory. His concern over her mention of things being bad at home was overshadowed by his excitement of the implications of the inclusion of a kiss.
Clutching his phone, Charles sat beaming in the sanctuary of his office. Change was coming; he could smell it in the air. He continued to savour the quiet around him, inhaling it as he let his mind fantasise over what might transpire with Laurie. It was the calm before the storm and he wanted to enjoy every last moment of it.
Chapter Thirteen
Exit wounds
Arthur Dolan was angry. He read for the second time the message he had just received from Laurie and he felt the blood within his veins curdle with fury. She had returned to London despite his protests. As per what had become the usual trend, she had completely ignored and dismissed what he had said to her. At first, Arthur was patient and tolerant, constantly mindful of the tragedy which had struck his girlfriend’s family. But twelve months of being sidelined by the person he had initially planned to spend the rest of his life with had driven from him his last ounce of patience.
‘Why do you do it to yourself?’ his mother asked wearily when she noticed her son gazing out of his bedroom window pensively, his phone welded into the palm of his hand. She instinctively knew what was troubling his young mind and it pained her to see him suffer so greatly at a time in his life when he should be indulging in carefree and reckless behaviour.
Ignoring his mother, Arthur sighed and released his grip on his phone, letting it fall down to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
‘No matter how hard you wish for it, she won’t come back to you,’ she continued, sitting on the edge of his bed and regarding him with a sorrowful expression. Arthur’s mother knew heartache far too intimately. His father had left her when he was only three-years-old for a younger woman. She had wasted her own life wishing for his return, only because she longed for the satisfaction of turning him away.
‘She’s just hurting,’ Arthur answered, feeling fatigued that he was about to enter into a conversation which he’d had with his mother a thousand times.
‘Of course. And you’ve been patient, far more patient than other men would have been. But you don’t deserve to suffer, Art. You need to live your own life and have fun. Young lads shouldn’t be cooped up in their bedrooms pining.’
‘I’m not Dad!’ Arthur scowled angrily. ‘I won’t leave her.’
‘But it looks like she’s left you.’
Arthur tried to block out his mother’s words. As long as he still loved Laurie, she must surely continue to love him in return.
‘Please, don’t be foolish Art …’
‘Get out!’ Arthur yelled, pointing to his bedroom door.
‘No, you are trying to dictate my life! I’m not Dad so stop acting like I’m as bad as him!’
‘I don’t think that you are behaving like your father,’ his mother answered indignantly. ‘I’m worried that you are behaving like me.’ Her tone was now sad and reflective as she obeyed her son’s orders and left his bedroom. She had hoped that could spare him the pain of unrequited love, but as she watched him gaze sadly out of his window at the rolling green fields in the distance, she knew that she had failed.
With his mother gone, Arthur leant down and retrieved his phone and read again the message from Laurie. He sighed in desperation, uncertain of his next move. Then, impetuously he dialled her number.
‘Arthur,’ Laurie picked up after four rings, her voice sounding distinctively annoyed.
‘Why are you in London?’ Arthur tried to conceal how hurt he was as he spoke. Laurie sighed deeply before responding.
‘I have some things to sort out still.’
‘You need to come home.’
‘No. I don’t.’
‘I want you to come home,’ Arthur pleaded.
‘Arthur I can’t, I’m sorry. There are things that I need to do here.’
‘Haven’t you already done enough?’
For a moment there was only static silence between them as Laurie contemplated what she should say.
‘I don’t expect you to wait for me forever,’ her voice was small and barely audible.
‘What?’ Arthur asked, suddenly disgruntled.
‘I know how awkward I’ve been,’ Laurie began to explain but Arthur interrupted her.
‘No! I’m not letting you do this!’ he cried in to the phone. He could feel his heart rate increasing in panic at the implications of her words. He wouldn’t let her go. He refused to.
‘Arthur, please,’ Laurie said sadly.
‘Laurie you are my other half, how can you not see that? I said I’d wait for you and I’m happy to keep waiting. I just need to know that you are going to come back to me.’
‘I can’t promise that,’ Laurie replied honestly.
‘But why not? There was a time when you would have promised me forever.’
‘Forever doesn’t exist.’
Laurie knew how brutal her words were as she said them, but her own ill-feeling from her encounter at the cemetery was spilling over into the conversation and she was powerless to stop it. Lorna had been her constant once, but that had changed. Laurie was fearful to place that level of dependence upon anyone else. She wanted to close her heart off from any future pain; to live a life of cold indifference. At least that way she wouldn’t hurt any more than she already did. She doubted she could handle any more pain.
‘I love you.’ Arthur whispered the three tiny words which had the potential to combust most situations. He felt like he had opened up his chest and revealed his beating heart to her, only to have Laurie stab a knife through the centre of it.
‘I need to go.’ She delivered the devastating blow and Arthur felt the pain of it within his chest which now felt concave. His heart continued to beat with a reluctant necessity, which to Arthur felt pointless.
Sat alone in her ghostly London apartment, Laurie hung up the phone and looked up to the ceiling, as if hoping to contact Lorna from the heavens above for some much-needed advice. She wanted to cry but nothing came; her body was currently dry of tears which didn’t surprise her. Over the past twelve months she had cried away her soul. She went to raise herself up to shower but her phone beeped, signalling a message. It was from Arthur. Laurie braced herself for whatever spiteful goodbye she had anticipated, but he simply said:
I won’t let you go x
There was a hint of menace within the message which made Laurie feel uneasy but she doubted that it was intentional. Dismissing it, she continued over to the bathroom.
Three hours went by before Arthur’s mother realised that her son’s car had left the driveway of her home. She had been sat at the back of the house, consumed by her television dramas and had failed to notice his exit. Curiously, she peered through her curtains and scrutinized the remains of the day outside which was rapidly turning to dusk. He had gone to Laurie, she was certain of it. She considered alerting the girl but then thought better of it. Perhaps her son had some romantic gesture planned to win her back and she would not want to obstruct that. But then again, she also wouldn’t want Arthur to waste his time and lose his dignity.
As his mother deliberated on what to do, she subconsciously wandered up to the spare bedroom and sat down on the locked trunk which was kept in there. Her mind was still consumed with potential courses of action when she noticed that the lid to the trunk seemed off balance. Intrigued, she rose to her feet to inspect it further. Indeed, the lid was slightly slanted as it was no longer locked. The padlock which was normally sealed tightly shut now hung open and she wondered how she had not noticed that the moment she came in.
Her heart suddenly shot in to her mouth when she remembered what the locked trunk contained. In a panic she threw the lid open and was devastated to look in and see nothing but the wood at the bottom.
‘You stupid boy!’ she declared angrily, her one hand now over her mouth in shock. The trunk had always remained locked ever since her husband had left her. The key for it was stored within the jewellery box on her vanity table, safe and secure and far away from the wrong hands. For in the trunk she kept the shotgun her husband had used for shooting game. When he left her, he also left behind the majority of his belongings, including the gun. And Arthur’s mother chose to keep it because she never knew when she might need it. If her husband ever did return, she would most definitely have found a use for it. But as it was, her son had beaten her to it and taken the gun for his own purposes and to dwell on what those purposes might be filled her with a fearful dread.
Faye Smith scowled at the back of Laurie Thomas’ head as the young intern worked diligently on her computer just a few feet away from her. Faye was angry. The fact that Laurie received such preferential treatment was tearing away at her like a bite on the back of her neck which continued to itch and refused to just scab over.
Recent events had not helped matters. Laurie waltzed in and out of the office with no regard for protocol. If she requested to go home for a few days, the Deputy Prime Minister immediately allowed it, without even running the leave past the Human Resources department. This leniency towards Laurie, coupled with the bypass of the usual administrative channels, left Faye reeling.
She couldn’t help but recall when she had requested two days leave some two years earlier, to accommodate her attending her youngest sister’s wedding in Italy. Faye had done everything correctly, filling out a leave form and giving Charles adequate time to approve it. When a week had passed and he had still not granted confirmation for her leave, Faye had felt as though she had no choice but to address him directly on the matter.
Faye chose her timing carefully, waiting until she was called into the office on other work. There, she answered his questions diligently before subtly slipping into the conversation the issue of her impending leave. Charles had appeared genuinely surprised and baffled by the query. He shook his head and ran his hands over his face.
‘Oh dear, Faye,’ he began insincerely, ‘I forgot to check your leave sheet and now we’ve that summit meeting booked for the Friday afternoon you want and you would need to be present to take minutes.’
At the time, Faye was flattered rather than angered by his negligence, as it made her feel important. She was too invaluable to take leave, or at least that was how she had spun the situation to her sister. In retrospect, Charles had deliberately feigned ignorance when she questioned him, as it would be inconvenient to source another secretary to take minutes. Faye was efficient and reliable; he didn’t want to risk using someone who might not be.
And so Faye had felt forced to forfeit
her sister’s wedding which had not gone down well with her family. The now married sister continued to give her the coldest of shoulders; the only time they had spoken since was at their grandmother’s funeral when Faye remarked to her how unusually pleasant the weather was for February and her sister had merely grunted in response. Faye’s mother had forgiven her, just about, but that had taken time. And it wasn’t until she lost her own mother that she had started to thaw towards her eldest daughter.
So now, to witness Laurie swanning in and out of the office with no consequence left Faye feeling infuriated. She had discussed it with her girlfriends over mojitos the previous evening, and they were in unanimous agreement that the young and beautiful led a far more privileged life than anyone else.
‘The problem is that men constantly think with their dicks,’ Faye’s most outspoken friend Bonny had stated angrily after her third glass. ‘It doesn’t matter how shit a girl is at her job if she’s nice to look at. Fucking secretaries,’ she uttered maliciously, before realising her error and turning apologetically to Faye.
‘You are an assistant, not a secretary,’ she said gently, her words now slightly slurred. Faye let the insult slide, appreciating that it was aimed more at the two secretaries her last husband had indulged in affairs with.
Nevertheless, the point had been made and had been cemented in to Faye’s mind. Laurie did not deserve special treatment, nor did her sister. The Deputy Prime Minister was besotted and it was just ridiculous. Faye decided to take matters in to her own hands. If Charles insisted on making life so easy for Laurie, Faye would do her utmost to make things exceedingly difficult for the girl, and if the Deputy Prime Minister challenged her behaviour she would simply threaten to expose his affair.
Feeling empowered by her decision, Faye spent the day making Laurie do the most menial tasks possible, starting with emptying all the bins within the building.
‘Don’t the cleaners do that?’ the young woman had queried, looking confused.
‘Usually, but I offered your services for today. I thought it would help you become better acquainted with all the other offices.’
