A Suitable Lie (27 page)

‘Anna.’ I leaned back and spoke over my shoulder. ‘I … thanks.’

She dismissed my gratitude with a flick of her hair, ‘Just you look after my boys. They’re all I’ve got. Tell them I love them.’

M
um’s face was a study in confusion when I arrived at her door with one sleeping and one almost sleeping child.

‘Andy, what’s going on, son?’

‘I’ll tell you later, just help me in with the boys and their stuff.’ I stopped on her doorstep. ‘You ok if we spend a few nights with you?’

‘What a stupid question.’ She adjusted the sleeves of her jumper and beamed. ‘Of course it is.’ She bent forward to look at Ryan.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘The boys can have my bed. You have the spare room and I’ll take the sofa.’

‘What? No way am I putting you out of your bed.’

She just looked at me. On this occasion her word was law and would be obeyed. ‘Look at the size of you. That sofa is no bed for a man.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s decided.’

‘Mum,’ I protested and then gave up. The no-nonsense way she was taking over made it appear as if our nocturnal visit was completely normal and had the effect of calming me down.

‘You tuck your boys in, I’ll bring in the rest of the bags and make us both a wee cup of tea,’ she said.

My mother’s bedroom was as I remembered. A large bed with a mattress on it that made you feel you were lying on a cloud. I could barely see the boys for the mound of pillows and the thick, pink quilt. Climbing roses adorned the wallpaper and their dark pink heads winked out from behind the many photographs and paintings that crowded the walls. There was a new addition on top of the dresser: a portable TV.

Removing some of the pillows, I re-arranged the boys so that they wouldn’t smother each other. Pat turned on his side and Ryan registered nothing of my ministrations.

‘They sleeping?’ Mum asked in a whisper when I reached the living room.

‘Mum, why are you whispering, when the TV here is on so loud?’

She looked at me dryly. ‘Are your sons asleep?’

‘Yes.’

‘Right, there’s a coffee and a biscuit. I’ll turn off the TV and you can explain to your old, befuddled mother what the hell is going on.’

For the second time within a matter of hours, I explained to one of those dearest to me what my life had been like over the last few years.

My mother, for her part, gave a definitive performance of how to listen properly. She only spoke when my explanation required clarification and prompted me only when emotion threatened to overcome me and halt my speech. She didn’t judge or pass comment, she only listened.

‘Do you see what an idiot your son has been then?’

‘Not at all. I see a brave man who gave, gave and gave. I see a man…’ she dabbed at her cheek with a white, linen handkerchief ‘… who, if his father were alive today, he would’ve been very proud of. Oh, son…’ she cried. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you in some way. I could’ve done something.’

‘Mum.’ I sat on the arm of her chair and hugged her. ‘The only person who could do anything was me. I had to come to my senses. No one could have done it for me.’

We hugged in silence for a moment. A moment when touch transcended words, a moment when words would have been as effective as an ocean without the pull of the tide.

‘Right, no more tears, as the song goes. What a day. And to think it ends with me getting my boys back.’

‘Isn’t it marvellous, son?’ She reached up and kissed my cheek. ‘I’m so happy that things have worked out.’

‘Let’s not get too excited, Mum. It’s early days yet. I can’t explain what got into Anna that made her let the boys go so easily. She definitely wasn’t herself, though. She’ll be on the phone first thing in the morning demanding she gets them back.’

‘You guys have to sort all of this out with the boys’ best interests at heart.’ Mum’s face sagged with concern. ‘Sue Hunter at number 33 – she hasn’t seen her grandson for over a year.’

‘Jeez, that’s awful.’

‘Her son’s wife refuses to let them anywhere near them. Ignores court orders.’ She shook her head. ‘She even pretended the boy was autistic, needed a strict routine and that his father would only disrupt that.’

‘Surely the system wouldn’t let that happen?’

Mum shrugged. ‘Thankfully, that ploy didn’t work, but she still misses play-dates with Dad. She even goes away for weekends when it’s the dad’s turn and there’s nothing he can do about it.’

I understood Mum’s fears. I shared them. The boys were a major part of her life and she dreaded any cessation of that.

‘Grandparents are often the forgotten ones in these scenarios. While the parents score points off one another Granny loses contact with her grandkids.’

‘I get it, Mum. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure the boys stay in both our lives.’ I placed my hand on hers. Felt the dry warmth of it.

‘It’s not up to you though, is it? I’ve heard some horror stories of the family courts. Mums tend to hold all the cards.’ She pursed her lips and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms as she was bolstered by the cushion.

‘Right, Mum.’ I shook my head. I didn’t want to go there tonight. ‘Let’s just enjoy having the boys for now, and worry about all that stuff later, eh?’

‘Aye, right enough. Anyway, you must be shattered after all this excitement.’

‘Tired?’ I felt as if muscle was sagging from my bones. ‘I could sleep for a fortnight.’

‘Right.’ She bustled out of the room and returned with a pair of pillows and a thick quilt. ‘I’ll camp out here.’ She forced a bright tone. ‘The bed in the spare room is already made up.’

M
y bed for the night was a single and my feet hung over the end. I considered going in to join the boys in my mum’s bed, but knew from experience that I would get no sleep. I’d shared a bed with them on many occasions and something always held me back from full sleep mode. Perhaps in a deep part of my mind I was scared I would turn over in the night and crush one of them in my sleep.

Common sense told me a good night’s rest was required if I was to get things back on an even keel, so I stayed where I was.

I lay on my back, hands under my head, eyes searching the dark of the ceiling. The moment when Anna suggested I take the boys played over and over in my mind. What had prompted that? Was she tired of fighting? She mentioned her parents. Did she remember an old promise she’d made to herself – that she would have a happier home than her parents did? Recognise that she’d failed in this and decided to start afresh?

Whatever it was, I was grateful.

I sat up in bed.

I should go to her. Talk. See how she was. If she didn’t have me or the boys, what kind of state would she be in? For all her faults she loved the boys. When I was forced away from them I felt their absence like an ache in my gut. She’d be the same.

Without giving it too much thought, I kicked my feet off the bed and located my clothes in the dark. As quietly as I could I dressed and left the house, aware of my mother’s eyes on my back as I tiptoed through the living room.

Mum reached me as I put my hand on the door handle. She flicked a switch and the hall light came on. Her hair was sticking up all over her head and her eyes were shrunken with lack of rest.

‘Andy, son, is this wise?’ she asked in that tone that was just above a whisper.

‘I need to see her, Mum.’

‘It’s two a.m. What can you possibly talk about now that can’t wait until morning?’

‘I have to know, Mum. Is this a blip or is this a change for the better?’

She pulled her dressing gown tight and searched my eyes for a clue as to my mood.

‘Will you stay calm? If she doesn’t say what you want to hear, can you stay calm?’

‘I’ll say and do whatever it takes to keep my boys in my life, Mum.’

M
y former home was in darkness. I parked on the street instead of the drive, climbed out of the car and stood on the pavement studying each of the windows as if they might give some sort of clue to Anna’s state of mind.

The air was balmy and by the light of the streetlamps I could see that the front garden I’d toiled over in recent years was in a good state: the lawn trimmed, the borders free of weeds. To the neighbours nothing would look out of place. Nothing outwardly changed. Anna was all about appearances.

I heard a cry. Sharp and high, it faded on the breeze. What was it? I cocked my head. A fox? A pair of battling cats?

I listened some more.

The night air calmed around me and returned to silence. Whatever it was, it had moved on.

As should I, I thought. I took a step back from the garden towards the car. It would be silly to try and talk this over with Anna in the middle of the night. Some time on her own might just be what the doctor ordered. Give her a chance to achieve some perspective. I could give her a call in the morning. Arrange a meeting in which we could discuss how we kept the boys in both our lives.

But something held me there, staring at the house that had been the scene of so much pleasure, and ultimately so much pain. Resentment and anger was a weight that held me to the spot. It was all I could do not to bellow out at the windows every expletive my mind could think of.

I deserved none of her anger. None of her abuse. I was a good father. A good husband.

You didn’t deserve me, bitch, I wanted to shout out, without
caring who heard. But the new Andy Boyd didn’t scream out in pain. The new Andy Boyd took action.

I stayed standing where I was for I don’t know how long, anger stiffening my fists.

S
mall fingers woke me as they paraded along the bridge of my nose and across my forehead. No, no, I heard myself mumble. Where was I? What was happening? Did I just have my hands round Anna’s throat?

‘Daddy. Sleeping.’ Ryan whispered in my ear.

‘What…’ I struggled up from the fog of sleep, an image lingered from my dreams. Anna’s face red as she fought for breath.

I shook my head as if that action might rid my head of the picture.

‘Daddy, wake,’ said Ryan.

I opened one eye, carefully, in case he decided that his fingers should take a walk inside the lid. Ryan’s face was so close his button nose was pressing against mine.

Whoa, it was only a dream, but I could still hear Anna’s panicked fight for air.

‘Daddy, wake.’ Ryan pushed off my back and sat by my side. He smiled when he saw me focus on him and his face changed from merely beautiful to angelic. I turned over onto my back and replied with a smile of my own.

‘Give Daddy a cuddle,’ I ordered, and Ryan, with a contented sigh that echoed mine, obliged.

‘What about me?’ Pat leaned over from the other side and blew a raspberry on my face.

‘Right, boy.’ I jumped up, grabbed him and tickled him until he begged me to stop. Ryan, not quite sure of the technique, joined in. His efforts received a few grunts of pain from Pat.

‘Ryan. That’s sore.’ So I switched my attentions to him.

The sound of a child in mid-giggle has to be one of the most pleasing sounds known to man. I defy anyone to keep their expression stern when they hear that sound.

‘Boys.’ Mum spoke from the door. ‘Your father has to get to work.
Come and get your breakfast.’ They were off the bed in a flash of pink skin and cotton. ‘Andy, there’s a clean towel in the bathroom and the shower is on.’

‘Did you…?’

‘Slept like a log,’ she interrupted, the lie of her statement proven by the tired cast of her eyes. Probably stayed up all night worrying. I felt terrible and promised myself that this solution would be temporary.

By the time I had showered and shaved the boys were hunkered before the TV. Their mother and I normally only allowed half an hour of TV in the morning, but Gran said they could watch it for as long as they wanted this time, because it was special.

With a mouthful of cornflakes, I spoke to my mother quietly. ‘Are you okay to watch the boys today?’

Without taking her eyes from them for even a second she answered, ‘Just you try and stop me.’

As I chewed through my rushed breakfast, I considered what had happened the night before. Why had Anna changed her mind? Was it anything to do with the phone call she received?

‘Nobody’ was her answer when I asked who’d called.

Mum interrupted my thoughts. ‘Jim’s delighted to hear about the boys, by the way. He phoned while you were in the shower and I filled him in.’

I spooned in another mouthful of cornflakes. Nodded.

‘He said you should have told him cos he went round there last night to have a word.’

‘He did what?’ I stood up so fast I became light-headed.

‘S’all right.’ Mum held out a placatory hand. ‘He said the house was in darkness. No one answered so he went back home.’

‘I fucking told him…’

‘Andy.’ Mum looked at the boys, who were both looking up at me wide-eyed. I rarely swore in front of them. ‘Nothing happened. He didn’t speak to her. And don’t worry, I already told him he was an idiot.’

‘And I’ll be telling him as well.’

A
quick brush of my teeth and it was time to go to work. Scooby Doo was running away from another stupid man in a stupid monster costume when I said goodbye to the boys. I leaned down and kissed them both on the forehead.

‘You boys be good boys for your gran today, okay?’

Pat nodded his head but didn’t move his eyes from the screen.

Ryan turned to me. ‘Dad, you be a good dad.’ Then he stood up and followed me to the door.

Before I left I knelt down to speak to him. ‘Daddy will be home soon. I just need to go and make us some pennies, okay?’

He nodded his assent, his large eyes grave with understanding. ‘Pennies,’ he repeated. ‘Where’s Mummy.’

‘Mummy’s gone away for a couple of days, so Dad and Gran are going to look after you.’

He nodded again, but this time he was not so happy. His face lengthened, his bottom lip curved into an arch and his face coloured bright red.

‘I want Mummy,’ he squealed. ‘I want my Mummyyyyyy.’

Mum rushed to his side. ‘There, there. We can’t have this lovely wee boy in tears this morning. Let’s go and see the birds in the garden. Let’s watch them feeding off the table.’ She motioned with her head that I should go and mouthed that it would be all right.