A Suitable Lie (26 page)

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Authors: Michael J. Malone

BOOK: A Suitable Lie
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S
heila had prescribed action. Concentrate on a solution, not the problem, she said. My feelings for Anna had changed, irrevocably. My mind raced over the events of the last few years, reading the manipulation, the beatings and the verbal abuse and seeing them for what they really were. The text in my mind was clear. No more self-delusion.

I had to find a solution. I struggled to believe that at one point I had considered murder. Would I, or even could I, find myself returning to that as a possibility? Bile rose from my gut at the thought. I’d have to keep a tight rein on my emotions when dealing with Anna. Ultimately, if that were to happen, she would win. I would end up in jail and the boys would be taken into care, knowing their father was a killer.

So what about separation, divorce? From watching men I knew who had separated from their wives, I witnessed two things. First, I didn’t know any men who successfully fought for custody of their children. Second, their relationships with those children, without exception and for whatever reason, suffered. Neither of these outcomes were acceptable to me.

Life without my boys would be as meaningless to me as a scroll written in a lost language. A life in which Anna got custody of them would be unbearable, she would make sure of it. However, Pat was not even her child. I could not conceive of a court ruling that she keep him. Ryan would be another case entirely. I might be able to argue that the brothers should not be split up. But, if I could, then so might she.

All this supposition was getting me nowhere. I had to speak to someone who knew. I would contact a lawyer in the morning. First, another night on Sheila’s couch.

Driving up her street, I recognised a car at the end of her drive: it was Jim’s.

He was leaning against a tall breakfast chair in the kitchen when I walked in. The dog stared up at him with a look of adoration.

He must have just arrived. A disc of brown liquid steamed at the lip of his mug. Sheila was standing by the kettle. A mixture of trepidation and apology tightened her features.

‘What are you doing here, Jim?’ I tried for jollity in my voice and failed. I was irritated by his presence, but at the same time relieved to see him.

He obviously knew something was wrong or he wouldn’t be here. The time had come for me to tell him everything. I had wanted to keep Mum and Jim in the dark, but that wish was driven by my old version of what a man should be. The new Andy Boyd was gaining power and his ideas of how a man should act and react were radically different. Misery had tempered a new steel to my backbone; a new steel alloyed with the realisation that admission of weakness and acceptance of emotion made me a stronger person. Just like Malcolm, facing the reality of my life was, I hoped, making me a better man.

But I was still at the early stages of my transformation. The old me struggled to mask my features with a ‘is this the face of concern?’ look, and ordered me to say nothing.

‘Sorry, Andy,’ said Sheila, ‘Jim phoned the bank looking for you. Just after you left this morning.’

‘Aye.’ He stood up. ‘You okay, bro?’ I smiled at what Jim considered to be a term of endearment.

‘Why did you phone the bank?’ I asked him.

‘Looking for you. I phoned Anna last night and asked to speak to you.’

‘Oh. What did she say?’

‘She said, why are you phoning here, then? That was a bit of a shock. I asked her where you were. She said, fucked if I know.’

‘Does Mum know any of this?’

‘Jesus, no. You mad? I don’t want to make her worry until it’s absolutely necessary.’

‘Good, let’s keep it that way. How much has Sheila told you?’

‘Just the bare minimum,’ Sheila answered. ‘Anna chucked you out because you got suspended from work.’

‘And about the bitch having another man.’ Jim shook his head with disgust. ‘What kind of woman is she? Two wee boys, a good man and the first sign of bother she’s got you out on the street and another man in her bed.’

‘The other man is just hearsay.’ I was still struggling with that one. Not because I was worried about being the cuckolded husband, but because the thought of another man dealing with my boys gave me chills.

I stepped toward the door. Righteous anger surged to every extremity; I could feel it spark in my fingertips.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Sheila.

‘To get my boys. They’re not spending one more moment in that witch’s company.’ I stabbed the air in front of me with a forefinger. One stab for each word.

‘Andy, think about it first,’ said Jim. ‘You go round there all fired up. You frighten the boys, she phones the police … you get the jail.’

‘He’s right, Andy,’ agreed Sheila. ‘Especially now you’ve got a history.’

‘A history of what?’ Jim looked puzzled.

‘Violence,’ I answered, my energy weakening. ‘I’ve got to get my boys out of there.’ I could feel salt sting my eyes. I blinked back the tears, I couldn’t let them see this getting the better of me.

‘What violence?’ asked Jim.

‘You two go in to the living room and talk. I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee,’ said Sheila. Passing her as I followed Jim out of the kitchen, I sent her a smile of appreciation. She smiled in reply.

Jim sat down and leaned forward in an armchair. His arms rested across his lap, his face a large question mark. Quietly and without a trace of self-pity, I told him everything. Right from my broken nose
on my wedding night, to the fights that followed any night out I had with him. I ended with the more recent events surrounding my time at Campbeltown – the thefts, my suspension and how I had ended up sleeping on Sheila’s couch.

Once I finished, I was exhausted. Exhausted and relieved. Both Malcolm and I had discovered the true weight of deceit. A lie could slip out as easily as a feather from a torn duvet. But a ton of feathers was still a ton. All it would take is one last feather, one last lie, and you would collapse under the strain.

The relief of casting this load aside was immense. Once I’d stopped speaking I flopped back into my seat.

‘My God,’ said Jim. ‘I had no idea. Absolutely none,’ He looked as if he’d picked up the weight I just dropped. ‘I mean, I knew you guys weren’t really suited. But this? What is she, deranged? Do women behave like that? I‘ve never heard anything like it.’

‘At least you didn’t laugh.’

‘Laugh? Why would I laugh?’ He looked horrified at the very suggestion.

‘Because that’s the usual reaction, isn’t it? Look at the size of him. Let’s a wee woman kick shit out of him. What kind of man is he?’

‘No. I admit it’s difficult to imagine, but laugh? No.’ He looked at me. ‘So that black eye at the wee man’s birthday?’

I nodded.

‘Bloody hell. What a bitch.’ Jim stood up, fists clenched. If it was a man who’d hurt me like this he’d be straight round there with a baseball bat. But this was a woman and he clearly didn’t have a clue how to react. ‘This is fucking unreal.’ He paced back and forward, his face getting darker and darker. ‘I could just go round there. Tell her what I think of her…’

‘And how on earth would that help?’ I asked.

‘Don’t know,’ Jim replied and sat down. ‘It would make
me
feel better. God…’ he stared off into recent memory. ‘To look at her, butter wouldn’t melt.’

I could only nod in agreement.

‘I’m going round there.’ Jim stood up so fast I thought his upward trajectory would continue until he hit the ceiling. ‘Bitch isn’t going to keep the boys for one more second…’

‘Best sit down, Jim,’ Sheila said as she came in with the coffee and sat a mug in front of each of us. ‘You going round there in a rage is only going to make things worse.’

‘But…’ Jim ran his right hand through his hair as if he wanted to pull a clump out. Took a step back. Then forward.

‘But nothing,’ I said. ‘Sit on your arse.’

Jim sat, but he was wearing a determined look that had me worried. ‘Jim, you’ll only make things worse…’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘I get it.’

We sipped our drinks and sat in silence for a few minutes, each of us lost in thought.

‘Right, what are we going to do about you, big brother?’


We
are going to do nothing. I am going to get my boys back.’

‘What about a place to sleep? You can’t go on pestering Sheila.’ Jim looked like he was getting control of himself, but there was a distant cast to his eyes that had me worried. It wasn’t beyond him to go round there and kick off some kind of shouting match.

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ said Sheila, a little too quickly.

‘You’re right, Jim. I need to find somewhere else to sleep. Mum has plenty of room, but I don’t really want to involve her yet.’

‘You can come to mine,’ said Jim.

‘What about Paula?’

‘Paula…’ he answered pointedly, ‘is no longer. We’ve been finished for months.’

‘You never said,’ I said and felt a quiet burn of shame that I had become so out of the loop that I didn’t know what my brother’s current situation was.

‘You never asked. Anyway, I’ve got a spare bed. You need to give Sheila her space back.’

I looked at my watch. It was after eight p.m. ‘Why don’t you go
back to yours, Jim. Freshen up the spare bed and I’ll go over to my place, grab a few things, give the boys a goodnight kiss and come over.’

‘Fine. Don’t do anything daft when you speak to Anna.’

Jim revved his car up to the end of the street. The house seemed emptier with his departure. It was as if it had taken his presence to illustrate that Sheila and I had been here alone together. I didn’t need to go deep into my mind to find my attraction to her. It was there, like a new suit hanging on the front of a wardrobe of old clothes. But it was a suit I couldn’t afford to try on for size just yet.

‘Thank you, Sheila. For everything.’

‘You’re welcome,’ her smile warmed me. ‘You take care of yourself.’ She walked towards me without a trace of awkwardness, her arms wide. ‘C’mere.’

I stepped forward and gave in to her embrace. My cheek resting on her head, the perfume from her hair filling my nostrils. Despite my attraction to her, there was nothing sexual about that embrace, just two people sharing strength. My arms were around her shoulders, hers round my waist.

‘Andy,’ she said. The word was laden with meaning. Like a warning shot, heat raced into my groin. As if burned, I stepped back.

‘Andy?’ She looked offended.

‘Sheila, I…’ Should the new Andy Boyd be honest and declare every one of his emotions? Perhaps if I hadn’t been in such a mess. ‘… Maybe if this was a different time…’

Her eyes shone, then the colour dipped with a mix of pleasure and confusion.

‘You’re right, Andy. Another time, another life maybe,’ she said quietly.

Hope danced in my veins, I tried to hold it in check. Here was a woman I could love. I took a step forward. Arms wide. Paused. Stepped back. Allowed my arms to drop to my sides.

This couldn’t happen. Not yet. My heels were still dangling over a precipice, my toes stretching for a stronger hold. I wasn’t safe. Until
I was, I couldn’t risk Sheila’s affections. The boys were my number-one priority. Nothing else could interfere until they were with me.

 

S
heila’s goodbye kiss still warmed my cheek as I parked outside my house. Her words of caution sounded in my ear. Remembered pain tightened muscle as I walked up to the door. Every animal instinct I possessed urged me to turn and flee. Behind the wooden door I knocked on was a walking ball of fury and a mountain of pain. I felt like a frightened mutt, my tail curved up between my legs and reaching along the length of my stomach.

No. Steel was in the set of my jaw now. I would allow no more of Anna’s abuse. The one thing that had held me in her thrall had died. She could no longer use my love for her as a weapon. But I would have to be careful. She was not stupid and would know that the one weapon remaining in her arsenal was the most potent of all. My love for my boys. She would have no problems in drawing that sword and skewering me with it.

‘What do you want?’ was her welcome as she opened the door.

‘Some clothes,’

‘Oh,’ she walked into the hall, looking smaller than I remembered. ‘I hope you don’t think you’re going to get much more.’ The warning was clear. She was going to fight to keep the boys.

Acid roiled in my stomach. Fighting back was still new to me. I couldn’t let her smell any fear.

‘You’re all right. I’ll just fill up a bag with some clothes. I’ll be back for the boys some other time.’ Defiance sparked in every fibre.

‘You wish. You’ve no job, no permanent residence. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. The boys will be mine and any request for access will be denied. Permanently.’

A
s Anna spoke, her face was contorted with hate. For the first time I wondered who the subject of that hate was. Was it me or was it actually herself? Words that once had the power to invoke my inadequacy, were now just sounds. Streams of sound that could no longer wound. The power I had given her to hurt me, I had now taken back. And this realisation was my shield.

Her arms waved, her once fearsome mouth hurled ribbons of sound at me and I looked on, amazed at my own detachment. Her eyes betrayed a spark of insight; my reaction wasn’t the usual one. Something was not quite right here. She continued her attack on my eardrums, on my sense of self-worth. I could see the thought impose itself on her brain. It had worked beautifully before; she would just have to raise the bar a little.

I leaned against a doorway, as if we were discussing where to go on our next holiday together. Her lips whitened as she drew them across the rictus of her mouth, displaying perfect teeth. She would not allow her uncertainty to show. The stream of invective continued to flow. She was unaware that she was now adding strength to my determination to win.

Words that had once been nails hammering into my psyche now drove into the lid of a coffin. A coffin that held any affection I ever felt for her. All I saw before me now was a frightened little girl. A little girl who had grown into a woman who wore her fear like a shroud. What she wanted all along was to be loved, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what love looked like. Her experience had been formed at the hands of men who knew only about power and how to abuse it. This was the cloth with which she bound her heart and her fists.

‘Are you even listening to me?’ she demanded.

‘I’ve heard it all before Anna. It means nothing. You mean nothing.’ I took relief in the truth of my last statement.

‘We’ll see if I mean nothing.’ She stepped towards me and raised her fist as if to strike. I stood my ground, opened my arms and smiled.

‘You mean nothing, Anna. You have no substance. You’re just a sad, wee girl who used to pull the wings from wasps and soak up all the poison they could sting you with. The problem is it toughened you up too much. Now you don’t know what love is, you don’t know what happy feels like.’

‘You think you could have made me happy?’ She moved back, her eyes never settling on the one surface. ‘You gave me nothing. Apart from a roof … and a lovely wee boy.’ She scored with that one; a small smile of victory was her reaction as the barb bit. ‘Two lovely wee boys. I need them. I’ll be a good mother to them. I just won’t let their father near,’ she spat.

‘The only reason you want them is to spite me, you sad bitch.’

‘Oh, hark at the name-caller now,’ she crowed. Mentally I gave myself a shake. I’d forgotten rule number one in any skirmish with Anna, she fed off negative reactions the way hyenas feed off a dying animal. Always circling, feet and mind never still. Looking for a sign of weakness. Darting in for a nip, a bite; tearing flesh with razor teeth.

‘Do you really love the boys, Anna?’ I asked.

‘Of course I do,’ she hissed. ‘What do you take me for?’

‘Someone without conscience. Someone without regard for herself or others, unless there was something in it for her.’

She sagged a little. ‘Andy, I’m tired. Why don’t you get what you came for and just go?’

‘I’ll get my clothes now, but I’ll be back for my boys another time.’

‘Dream on. You’ve lost them forever. Deal with it. You’ve no job, no fixed abode. No life. What judge is going to give you the boys? You won’t even get Pat. The boys shouldn’t lose one another. As little
disruption to their family life as possible, that’s what the judge will order.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. Pat is my biological son. I’ve looked after him on my own right up until the last few years. Right up until I picked you, thinking you would be a good mother to him.’

‘I am a good mother too him.’ Her nostrils flared.

‘Aye, right. What good mother would deny her son access to his father? And let me inform you of my circumstances, so the next time you speak to your lawyer, you’ll get it right. I still have my job. The real thief owned up. And I do have a “fixed abode”. I’m staying with Jim at the moment. I’ll move in with Mum shortly. She’s more room in her house. Enough room for me and the boys. A nice house with a built-in babysitter. What judge in his right mind would deny that when faced with the competition? Anyway, we could stand here all night scoring points off one another. I’ll go get my stuff and the next time I’ll see you will be when I come to pick up the boys.’

I walked up the stairs. Anna followed.

‘What’re you doing?’ I asked.

‘I’m coming to make sure you don’t take anything you shouldn’t.’

I shrugged.

 

O
ur bedroom, her bedroom, looked as if I’d just stepped out of it for a moment. Nothing had changed. My clothes were all in their drawers or on their hangers. Anna must have caught my look of surprise.

‘Everything’s here. I moved nothing. Didn’t even take a pair of scissors to your ties.’

‘Good.’ I reached under the bed and pulled out a suitcase. The symbolism didn’t escape me. This really was the end.

Nor did it escape Anna. She sat on the bed. Her body language of someone calm and full of reflection. More like the Anna I’d fallen for.

‘How did we get to this, Andy? We were good once. How did this happen?’ she asked.

I pulled some suits from the wardrobe and dumped them in
the case. Tidying sleeves and trousers, I answered, ‘Well, I seem to remember it starting on our wedding night. Then there was the beatings, the manipulations, and let’s not forget the humiliations.’ I faced her. ‘How could you, Anna? I loved you and you treated me worse than an animal.’ Ghosts of beatings past, memories of insults upon insults threatened to weaken my resolve. How had I let the woman in front of me treat me in such a way? Sat on the edge of the bed, I couldn’t detect one ounce of threat from her.

‘I couldn’t help it, Andy. You drove me to it. I couldn’t control myself.’

‘Aw, for fucksake, Anna. Crap. You just chose not to.’

‘Ssssh, Andy. You’ll wake the boys.’

‘Tell me something…’ I lowered my voice. ‘If we had been the subject of one of those fly-on-the-wall documentaries. If we’d a camera in here twenty-four hours a day, broadcasting live on TV our every move, would you have been able to control your anger then?’

‘Of course I would.’

‘Well don’t you see? You simply chose not to control yourself. You had all this anger, all this … hate, and you let me have it. That’s what happened,
sweetheart
.’ My often-used endearment was sullied with irony.

She bit her lip as if fighting back tears. ‘I’m sorry, Andy. Why don’t you stay for a while? We could talk this thing through.’ She folded her arms and crossed her legs. She looked smaller, frightened, more vulnerable and exhausted by our fighting.

I fortified myself against my rising feelings of sympathy. ‘You just don’t know when to stop, do you?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she looked up at me.

‘Don’t give me the eyes, the face … the legs. Stop with the manipulation, Anna. I don’t love you anymore. Congratulations, you killed it. Stone dead.’ I pushed the last of my belongings into a bag. ‘We’re over, finished, history. Now, I’ll be happy to be civil to you for the sake of the boys.’ I walked out of the room carrying my luggage. ‘I’ll just see that they’re tucked in.’

Using the light from the hallway, I walked into their room.

‘Dad. Is that you?’ Pat squinted from his bed. ‘Mum said you were still in Campbeltown.’

‘Ssssh. Watch you don’t waken up your brother.’ I sat on Pat’s bed and ruffled his hair. Bedtime was always my favourite time with the boys. They were at their cutest. Hair combed after their bath, cheeks shining with health and just a little too tired to remind you how they could misbehave. I pulled Pat from his position and wrapped him in my arms. His hair was satin against my cheek; his small body warm with spent energy.

‘Love you, son,’ I whispered. I couldn’t trust my voice. Breathing deep, I fought to control myself. Everything had to be as normal as possible. He was used to raised voices coming from our bedroom. Me in tears would definitely not come across well.

Anna cleared her throat from the door. Her presence broke the spell.

‘I’ve just come back for some clean shirts, son. But I won’t be away long.’ With as much tenderness as I was capable of, I lay him back down on his bed and straightened his sheets. I traced the silk of his cheek with the back of a finger.

‘You look after your brother,’ I said.

He nodded, half-smiled, still fuzzy with sleep. ‘Love you, Dad.’ He then turned and burrowed down into his pillow.

I walked next door to Ryan’s room and bent over his cot. His small body formed an exclamation mark of peaceful ignorance. He’d kicked off his covers. He always got too hot. He was on his back, one arm thrust up behind his head, as if stretching for a toy. A toy that would remain out of reach all through his dream. Frightened I would disturb him, I kissed the fingertips of my right hand and lightly touched his forehead.

‘Sleep tight, son.’

Outside the room, I closed the door behind me. I faced Anna.

‘You cause harm to one hair on their heads and I will kill you.’ I knew the threat was unnecessary but I let the emotion of the moment get the better of me.

‘Andy,’ she admonished me. ‘I would never hurt them. How could you say that?’

The emotion was too raw to apologise even though I knew I was wrong. Anna chased me down the stairs.

‘Andy, you’ve got to believe I would never harm the boys.’

‘Yes, yes. I know. You reserved all your punishments for me. I’m bigger than you are. I needed taking down a size or two. Your power over the boys is assured, taken as read, they’re no threat to you. Yet.’

She flinched, as if she’d read my real feelings for her for the first time. Strangely, this small sign of weakness didn’t thrill me. It saddened me.

‘The boys are my chance to get things right,’ she said in a tiny voice, and I knew she was being genuine. ‘Please don’t ever doubt that I have nothing but their best interests at heart.’ A single tear shone like a torch on the alabaster of her cheek. And I could see that here there was no agenda, no attempt at manipulation.

Just the loneliest expression of emotion I’d ever witnessed.

‘Anna, the next wee while is not going to be the easiest for any of us. Let’s try and make it as easy for the boys as we can.’

‘Okay.’ She caught the tear on a hankie before it spilled on to her cheek. She walked towards me and reached out for my hand.

‘Andy, I’m truly sorry for how things turned out between us.’ She bit her lip. Closed her eyes tight. Opened them and looked at the floor. Eventually her eyes met mine. ‘You deserved better than me.’

I looked down at her hands and wondered at the damage they could inflict. What could I say in response?

Nothing.

She breathed deep as if bracing herself. ‘Go on, get out of here.’ Her tone was not unkind.

‘Right.’ Now that the moment had come I wasn’t sure how to behave. What is the protocol for leaving an abusive spouse? They don’t teach you that in the marriage manuals.

‘Come here, give us a hug, you big lump,’ she said. There was not a trace of rancour in her voice. Only an acceptance that events had
finally taken a turn that they had to. If both of us were to retain our sanity than we would have to let them play out.

As we held each other, I thought of chances lost and lives warped by a cycle of despair that had begun before either of us were born. One abuse of strength led to another, to another, to another. Until here we were, saying goodbye, knowing we had no other option.

I felt the heat of her. The softness of her cheek on my neck. Noted a feeling of affection and quashed it.

A small voice filled the hall. It came from the doorway. I hadn’t heard the door opening.

‘Dad, are you staying?’ It was Pat. Hope was a prayer filling his expression. Ryan was by his side holding his hand.

Love surged from my chest to my throat, constricted my breathing.

‘Hey, guys.’

I walked over and knelt in front of them. Ryan jumped into my arms, while his older brother kept his distance in what I judged was an attempt to protect himself from disappointment.

Ryan’s little body was warm and compact in my arms. His hair smelled of bath-time. I savoured his presence and realised I couldn’t walk away now without them. I couldn’t leave them here. One more moment away from them was unthinkable.

I took a deep breath. Girded my spine for the fight I was about to instigate. I turned to face Anna just as Pat came to stand by my side. Something in him knew what the situation was and it pained me to see him turn to Anna with an expression that begged. He wanted me to stay, or he wanted me to take him with me and he didn’t know how he could make this happen.

The phone rang, breaking the spell.

Anna walked through to the hall to answer it. I could hear only her mumbled replies and moments later she returned. She looked at me. Then looked at the boys. There was a strange light in her eyes. A rare softness.

‘When did we become my parents, Andy?’ she asked, her voice distant and winsome.

I could only shrug

She bit her top lip as if she had just reached a painful decision. ‘You put your bags in the car and I’ll get the boys ready.’

‘Eh?’ This sudden turn of events threw me completely. I looked at her as if she had just spoken to me in Swahili.

‘Go on.’ Her smile was weak and laced through with pain and a thousand unspoken apologies.

‘Who was that on the phone?’ I asked.

‘Nobody,’ she said. ‘It was nobody.’

 

I
t took a matter of minutes to get the boys into their coats and put a collection of their clothes and toys, along with my clothes, into the car.

‘You be a good boy, Pat.’ She stuck her hand in the car and ruffled his hair. ‘Never give your dad any bother, okay?’ Then she opened the back door and leaned over to kiss Ryan. He didn’t stir as she pressed her lips against the cushion of his cheek and held the kiss for a few seconds.

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