by AB Morgan
‘You made for a pathetic sight in your baseball cap trying to make sense of your personal world, which from an outsider’s view may appear ideal but, from the look on your face, has become a dreadful burden. It took me a while to get hold of your mobile phone number, but Lillian on reception at your offices is so innocent that she believed my simple story. “Good morning, I’ve had a message from my studio asking me to call Konrad on his mobile, unfortunately the number they gave me seems to have one digit wrong. I have a zero too many. Can you confirm the number for me please…?” and she did. What a helpful girl, and so polite with it. I thought you would have received my letter by then, but obviously that was not the case, judging by your text reply. You were hoping to be contacted by someone called Lorna.
‘Your wife told me all about her. She also told each and every one of the Stepford Wives at the golf club. I listened enthralled, Konrad, as she spilled the beans on your dirty affair. Over twelve months of clandestine meetings, rendezvous, fictitious film location visits, rehearsals and trips took place, during which Lorna would be at your side and not your wife. Delia found out. Tonight, she has confessed to her friends that you called her “Lorna” when you were pissed up last night. She’s angry, Konrad, but she’s willing to maintain the status quo for now. She likes the fame and money you bring to your sexless marriage. Yes… she told them that as well, in a public place, in a loud whisper. I like her style. She knows when you’re gagging for a shag. She’s amused by your pathetic endeavours to buy affection and by how you try to bribe your way into her frosty knickers. Did you know she has a vibrator hidden in the bathroom? You don’t know do you, Konrad. The Stepford Wives are all aware of the fact because Delia has told them how thrilled she is that you’re going to North Wales tomorrow to collect your twins from university. She dotes on them, doesn’t she? It was Freddie this and Eliza that. Nauseating.
‘While you’re away she won’t miss you.
‘She’s going to lie on your bed fantasising about the new golf professional, Rolf, and she’ll thrash around with her costly exclusive vibrator, which she does several times a week. One of her friends has recommended mint lube for additional tingling sensations, so she doesn’t need you for affection or sex; she wants your money and the kudos you bring. How shallow.
‘I’m feeling a certain sexual stirring myself, a little thrill at what you have set in motion with your challenge. You were warned not to try to find Tessa Carlton, but you can’t resist. You seem to think you have a God-given right to seek out whosoever you choose to interview, but not everyone wants their lives exposed and put on display for the sensation seeking public to mock. So as an inevitable result, I’m drawn to your gauntlet. I warned you, and still you have chosen to ignore me. It looks like I’ll have to catch a train if I’m to get to Bangor before you. I’ll leave now. I do love to travel by train. I can spend the time usefully on the journey, researching into your children. Certain that you’ll be meeting up with Lorna, I’ll be watching both of you.’
11
The Management Centre at the university in Bangor was not what he had expected. The beautiful Edwardian stone building overlooked the Menai Straits, and from his spacious, dual aspect room, Konrad had a clear view of the sea rushing towards the Swellies, and of Anglesey beyond. From the other window he could see across the grassy courtyard bordered on three sides by the impressive building. The bed in his room was vast, its size serving to remind him that, regrettably, he would be sleeping in it alone that night.
As he placed his bag on a chair, he berated himself yet again for turning his back on Lorna by putting his career before a life in the real world. He also began to recognise the rising panic setting in each time he considered the possibility of being single and alone, should she decide to send him packing when they met. There was no one else he wanted to be with.
Konrad had spotted the BBC offices from the car park but had not yet formulated a plan in his head about how best to approach Lorna. Strolling into the bright, breezy morning air, he found a useful vantage point to spy on the BBC building, vainly hoping to catch a glimpse of her, like a naughty schoolboy. Then he saw her. Lorna was with a tall man, chatting amicably as they approached the entrance.
Shit. I feel sick.
The fear of rejection was gnawing away as he sent the text.
“Found you! Meet me later for a drink at the pub nearest the pier? K xx”
Lorna must have picked up the text almost straight away as she appeared back outside the entrance doors turning her head left and right, looking for him with a shocked expression on her face. She set about replying, by which time Konrad had made a hasty retreat, wanting time to gauge her state of mind rather than rushing headlong into being permanently shunned by her, face to face.
“No. Bad idea. Meet me on the pier and we will walk and talk without alcohol being involved. 5.30pm.”
Short, sweet and to the bloody point. It’s going to be a long day.
Much to his relief, Freddie and Eliza were pleased to see him, even without Delia in toe, or possibly because of it. After warm greetings and disparaging comments about the new car, they set about loading up dozens of bags and boxes, keeping him occupied.
‘Tell me again why you’re moving,’ Konrad demanded as he puffed and panted to the car carrying a heavy box, followed by Freddie and then Eliza laden like pack animals.
When they were younger, Freddie and Eliza had a confusing habit of saying the same thing simultaneously, or alternating information in order to complete a sentence between them. However, since reaching adulthood, and becoming more individual in their attitudes and tastes, they deferred to each other. Freddie took up the role of explaining the reason behind the move.
‘The landlord here wants to squeeze more tenants into the house to earn himself additional income. We were cramped enough as it was so Liza and I have found ourselves a two-bedroom flat instead, that way we don’t have to worry about anyone else getting on our nerves. The rent’s not too much more and we’ve got part-time work. In fact, Liza has an offer of full-time employment over the summer, working for an events management company.’
‘I think I can get Freddie at least a six-week stint covering bars at the summer gigs and the festivals. It’s not bad money.’
Konrad spotted Freddie frowning at the mention of bar work.
‘So we won’t be seeing much of either of you after this week then?’ Konrad asked, secretly relieved that neither of his children would have to witness their parents at each other’s throats, bickering over who gets what in the bitter divorce looming large on the horizon. ‘Bugger. I’d better phone your mother and let her know I’ve arrived. That’ll keep her quiet for a while.’
As soon as he had announced he was with their children, Delia held her vicious tongue and sweetly asked to speak to Freddie and Eliza in turn. Both rolled their eyes.
‘She sounded a bit pee’d off.’ Freddie announced. ‘Still, it looks like we’re on for a barbecue…’
The day flew by in a series of loading and emptying the green machine, and much sweating and cursing. ‘We’ll get the rest of the stuff tomorrow. I’ll leave you to make beds and get yourselves sorted. See you in The Tap and Spile at about seven-thirty. We’ll have dinner together.’ Konrad had made the excuse of meeting an old pal, meaning that he would have to catch up with his children for a beer later in the evening than anticipated. He wasn’t even thinking about that. He was as nervous as a testosterone-driven youth on a first date.
Showered and clean, sunglasses on to hide his features, he walked down the hill to the pier arriving a good ten minutes ahead of schedule for his meeting with Lorna.
Wandering through the ornate wrought iron entrance gates and past the pagoda-like shelters with their distinctive domed roofs, he made his way to the end of the delicate Victorian pier. He gazed through the wooden slats to the sea below. Filling more time, he chatted with a gentleman who ran a tiny kiosk café called Whistlestop, where they sold tasty looking cho
wder. ‘You look a lot like Konrad Neale, you know.’
‘So they say.’
The man introduced himself formally and Konrad refused to believe that the café proprietor was called Terry Thomas. He was laughing heartily when Lorna suddenly appeared at his side.
‘I see you’ve met Terry then.’
They walked and talked. Despite being somewhat stilted at first, Konrad felt they soon rediscovered their underlying friendship, allowing them to settle into reasoned conversation.
‘Lorna, if I’m honest, I want to grovel and beg you to take me back and forgive my pathetic, selfish, idiotic plan to put my career first. I’m not proud of myself. I’m ashamed at what I’ve done to you. It’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. But this is your decision and I’ll accept my fate. Whatever the outcome, I’m leaving Delia. Just so we’re clear on that.’ Konrad and Lorna were leaning on the handrail looking out towards the boats moored at Beaumaris, letting the strong breeze wash over their faces.
‘I’m not rushing into anything, Kon. You’ll have to prove I can trust you again. You leave her and I’ll believe your intentions. Until then… let’s say, you’re on probation.’ He wanted to kiss her but held back, not wishing to make the wrong move.
His phone beeped, breaking the moment.
‘That’s Delia, I take it.’ Lorna said, her face falling.
Konrad took a quick peek, but then declared, ‘No, I think this is from my stalker.’ His tone was serious enough for Lorna to appreciate that he wasn’t joking. ‘Jesus, I think she’s here,’ he said glancing back up the length of the pier towards the pub and the public green.
‘She?’
‘I’ve never met her. But I’m pretty sure who it is.’
‘What’s her name? Can’t you simply report her to the police if she’s bothering you? Or block her number.’
‘I would if I knew her name and if she didn’t change her number each time she sends a bloody text. I think she may have a screw loose. One of those obsession things you read about. It’s to do with the documentary case we filmed recently for series two. We were searching for this person and she didn’t want to be found. Now it seems she’s got the hump and has turned the tables on me. It’s a bit of a nuisance. She’ll give up soon.’ By saying this aloud, Konrad was reassuring himself; his inner voice was less confident. Why would she go to the trouble of following Delia last night and then travelling all the way here to follow me?
The subject was dropped. Lorna reiterated her terms and conditions to which Konrad readily agreed. ‘We’ll take it slow. No secrets, no selfish career moves, we start as we mean to go on. I’m taking the twins home for a week and I’ll be back next weekend. After that, I’ll move in with Barney or take a room at The Valiant Soldier until I find a place to call home. Maybe rent somewhere.’
Lorna squared her shoulders and dug her hands deep into her coat pockets. ‘I mean it, Kon, no more heartbreak. You found me, thanks presumably to Annette, and I’ve listened to what you have to say, but this is it. Your only chance. Our only chance.’
‘How about a drink and dinner tomorrow? You know the decent places to eat. Book somewhere and call me.’ Konrad held her hands, kissed her cheek, then watched as Lorna strode back up the hill towards The Management Centre, and breathed a sigh of immense relief. He sat down on a bench and put his face into his shaking sweaty palms. Don’t cock this up, Kon, you utter muppet. Just don’t cock it up.
He looked again at the text from his not-so-mysterious stalker, Tessa Carlton, or whatever she was calling herself these days.
“So that’s Lorna. Does Delia know you’re meeting her this weekend?”
Konrad snorted at his phone. You’re out of luck, love, Delia already knows about Lorna, and that our marriage is over and when I get back home she will finally grasp that I am leaving her to spend my life with Lorna. You can’t hurt me with this one, Tessa, old fruit. So fuck right off.
Needing a moment to ground himself, he phoned Annette to give her the update on his reunion with Lorna.
‘Thank God for that,’ Annette said, heaving a sigh. ‘I wouldn’t have slept all weekend if you hadn’t phoned. This is so exciting, just like a proper love story. Can I be bridesmaid?’
‘Hold up a minute, I’ve got a hideous divorce to get through before we get to that stage. I’ve also got a lot of wooing to do before she’ll say yes.’
‘Wooing, is it?’
‘Yes, Annette, there’s work to be done. And talking of work, it appears that Tessa Carlton has deliberately turned the tables on us and has tracked me down. Since I opened that letter from her on Thursday and we challenged her on Facebook, she’s decided to threaten me and turned stalker.’
‘Bloody hell. No kidding? That’s great news.’
‘It’s not so hot from where I’m standing. I’m pretty certain she’s right here and watching my every move, but I can’t see anyone who fits the raving psychopath bill. She’s made some veiled threats but nothing reportable. Spooky though.
‘Can you ask the two whiz kids if they can do more detective work? Can we find out who the Carlton family GP was and try to get an NHS number or an NI number for Tessa? If Mike and Slow Joe can work from there onwards we might be able to trace an employment record or a health record that will get us what we need to identify her. A proper photo would be really helpful right now.’
‘I’ll give them a call. Joe’s going to love getting his teeth into this. Right, you enjoy the rest of the weekend; take it slow and no flowers. They’re a sign of guilt.’
‘Yeah? Very funny. Of all people, don’t you think I already know that…? See you Monday, and thanks, Netty, you’re a good pal.’
Friday night, and the pub heaved with students and families drinking, eating meals and chatting animatedly. It was a second or two before Konrad registered that Freddie was already at the bar in deep conversation with a brown-eyed, auburn-haired beauty. Not wanting to cramp his son’s style, he took his beer and sat at a table, which was neatly positioned up a short flight of stairs and tucked behind a wooden bannister from where he watched the mating rituals of the bright young things. His only son was doing a magnificent job of holding the auburn girl’s interest and she was flirting in return. Freddie’s efforts were not undermined by the arrival of his sister, who bounced up to the bar, kissed hello and embraced several of her fellow students, including the barmaid, and was eventually introduced by Freddie to his new female friend. Eliza seemed to respond positively and the three of them continued an easy conversation with smiles and laughter punctuating the discussions.
Eventually, Eliza spied her father and excused herself from the three-way social banter. ‘How long have you been sitting there, Dad?’
‘Long enough to work out that Freddie has pulled. Shall we leave them to it for a bit before we think about dinner?’
Eliza laughed at her father and ruffled his hair. ‘You’re so thoughtful.’
Konrad and Eliza had a father-daughter catch up for nearly an hour before they were joined by Freddie and his friend. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Dad, this is Chloe Jordan.’
He approved of his son’s choice, and of her firm handshake.
‘Chloe’s staying at The Management Centre too, so you’ll see each other at breakfast,’ Freddie joked.
‘Just passing through?’
‘No and yes, I’m overseeing a conference event for an outside company. Not very exciting but it pays the bills.’
Freddie my boy, you’ve got yourself an older woman, and you have no idea how lucky you’re about to be.
‘I’ll be here until a week on Monday,’ Chloe confirmed.
‘Great,’ Freddie gasped, ‘we could perhaps meet up again. Eliza and I are only going home for a few days but we’ll be back before the end of the week.’
‘I’d really like that.’
He’s in.
‘Look,’ Konrad said. ‘It seems a waste for you to spend your time with Eliza and me this evening. You two go and enjoy
yourselves. We have plenty to entertain us.’
Eliza gave her father a look of admiration and pride, before chirping, ‘Yeah, we don’t want you two hanging around, bringing down the tone. Now bugger off.’
Freddie and Chloe didn’t need another unsubtle hint; they held hands as they went back to the bar.
‘How old do you think she is? I find it hard to tell these days,’ Konrad confessed.
‘Twenty-five, maybe older, she has to be about that age. Who knows, but she seemed nice enough. Freddie’s practically drooling.’
‘Lucky blighter.’
‘Things with you and Mum still no better then?’
‘Eliza, there are things we need to discuss. Shall we find the best curry house in town? I feel like blowing the diet out of the water.’
12
He nearly choked on his morning coffee when he saw Freddie and Chloe walk into the dining room at The Management Centre. They were subtly touching each other as they proceeded to fill their plates at the breakfast buffet, barely registering the other diners. Konrad was appalled when they made their way towards him.
This is a bit awkward.
‘Morning, Dad. Hope you and Eliza had a good evening.’
‘And I hope you are going to pay for a night’s accommodation and that hearty breakfast, son.’
‘You worry too much. It’s all legitimate and paid for, so there’s no scandal here for you to fret about.’ Freddie shot a conspiratorial glance at Chloe who appeared as freshly made-up and fragrant as she had the night before. Konrad thought his son had a slightly smug air about him, as if he had excelled at his favourite sport, and he caught Freddie licking his lips deliberately at Chloe.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Neale, we didn’t mean to cause any embarrassment. I don’t usually entertain men in my room, but Freddie and I couldn’t resist each other. It’s not a one-night stand.’ Chloe was touching Freddie’s forearm tenderly with her fingertips, while with her cow-brown eyes holding Konrad’s gaze a little too long for comfort.
