The Beard (33 page)

Adam saw the alarm. “It’s OK. They saw Amy on TV and recognised her from a photo Tom had sent them. So they called his house and spoke to Ash, which is why he came here. Then they saw Tom and Amy going into the police station on TV and, as Tom hadn’t been answering his phone, they thought it would be better if they came down themselves. They said they don’t want to interfere, just make sure that everything is OK. They’re waiting in the hall, I just thought you’d better know.”

Remaining seated, Richard seemed to be in a state of mental paralysis. He’d found a sanguine place in which to recuperate and was reluctant to surrender this to anyone. Judith darted back and forth in a blind panic, a psychotic mania that saw her look in the gilded wall mirror and resign herself to her fate. She had no time to make herself look presentable to strangers.
What she saw in her face wasn’t necessarily what anyone else would see. She couldn’t escape the simple fact that this wasn’t a great day for her family. And now she had to contend with the wounded son’s mother. She knew that this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Shall I bring them in?” asked Adam.

“Yes…” Judith looked pensive, nervous. “Yes, bring them in.” She took a deep breath and flattened her hair. “Richard, come on, get up!”

Richard, having been slowly lubricated with brandy, looked up and focused on the room. “I don’t give a shit what they think, anyway,” he declared defiantly. “One bad decision doesn’t a bad person make.” He nodded to himself in agreement at his pearl of wisdom. His obstinance could, he soon realised, be misplaced. Tom’s parents could be perfectly charming and understanding. To that effect, he’d make every effort to be as normal as possible – in the circumstances.

The door opened and in walked Tom’s parents. Tom’s father looked like an older version of Tom, with a full head of hair – albeit grey – a trim but broad frame and an imposing presence. Tom’s mother was curiously short – almost squat. Her slightly creased face bore the hallmark of a kindly grandmother. It was a face that had been aged with experience and the trials of life, but had acquired soft warmth rather than harsh, cold features. Her height gave her more power, rather than less, and she walked with great purpose. She exuded a control not entirely dissimilar to that of a school ma’am or matron.

Richard felt chastened for his private thought prior to their entry into the room, and lunged forward with his hand outstretched. “Good evening,” he said, his words not entirely independent of one another. Both of Tom’s parents politely shook his hand.

“Well,” Judith continued, “I’m sure that we’d have liked to meet under different circumstances to this. It’s rather unfortunate that this has all happened.” Tom’s mother nodded an agreement that suggested either empathy or irritation.

Richard seemed to have loosened his grip on the severity of the situation. He grinned broadly and sighed, “You know, my Amy’s a lovely girl. A stupid one, but a lovely one.” Judith shot him a glance that queried him for going off-message. “She’s made a stupid, stupid decision and now she’s hurt your fantastic son.” Then, confident that his wisdom would be seized upon, he added, “But one bad decision doesn’t a bad person make.” He paused long enough for applause. It wasn’t forthcoming. “We’ve all had a very bad day. My niece is getting married today in the grounds but we’ve missed the wedding, had our daughter on TV, arrested…”

Judith stirred: “She wasn’t exactly arrested, darling.”

Richard stared back at her. “Well, whatever – the point is that we’ve had better days. So, I apologise on behalf of my family for my daughter’s stupidity, but it’s done, it’s over and she and Tom are still speaking – although I suspect that they won’t be getting married any time soon. Which is a shame, as we both think Tom’s wonderful. So, I can’t promise you a wedding, but I can offer you a drink.”

Tom’s father, Michael, smiled. “We don’t want to impose. We saw them both on TV and tried to get hold of Tom but couldn’t, as his phone kept going to voicemail. There are only so many messages you can leave, aren’t there? So, Sheila decided – well, we both did – that we should come down and make sure they were OK. We really don’t want to impose and we’re certainly not here to judge. Tom speaks very highly of Amy.”

“Well, he did,” Adam laughed. He was alone in finding humour in the situation.

“I’m sure he will again,” added Michael. “Whatever they’ve done or whatever goes on between them is their business. We were all young once and we all made mistakes. So I’m happy to let them get on with it, as long as they’re safe and well.”

Richard was delighted by the emotional pragmatism on display. “Hear bloody hear,” he concluded as Tom’s parents looked back at him with a degree of curiosity. Sensing that, Richard added, “You’ll understand that I’ve had a few today!” Michael smiled. “So, what can I get you to drink?” Richard repeated.

“Thank you but we’re driving,” said Sheila, her first investment in the day’s events. “We just wanted to come and make sure the children were OK, and then we’ll find a hotel.”

“You look like a scotch man,” Richard said, ignoring Sheila’s comments. “And having
dragged you all the way here because our daughter has been a fool, I wouldn’t dream of having you scour the area for a hotel. You must stay here. We have enough rooms. You wouldn’t be imposing at all, and we insist. I’m sure that Tom would love the idea. So, a scotch and a G&T?”

The room fell into a befuddled, silent stupor. The verbal Tour de Force that had just unfolded left Tom’s parents in a peculiar situation. Refuse the offer of hospitality and make it look like their words of conciliation were hollow, or agree to stay at a stranger’s house at the tail end of a media storm. Equally, Judith continued to smile, having been handed the prospect of accommodating the jilted family, and no doubt catering for them as well. She was sure, as she tried not to betray her feelings of intense irritation, that her husband had just made her life that bit harder; that such an offer was a mistake.

“That’s a very generous offer,” Michael began tentatively, “but you have enough on your hands already without another two guests.”

Before Judith could move in to endorse the sentiment, Richard boomed, “Nonsense!”

Sheila immediately looked at Judith. One out of place or inconsistent eye movement would reveal the truth. Judith knew that she had to respond swiftly to welcome these people or hesitate to ensure their departure. Her conditioning demanded that, whatever she was feeling personally, she must show grace and hospitality.

“But of course. We insist!” she said smiling, as both women assessed each other for a hidden narrative.

Richard walked towards the dining table, where the drinks tray had found a home. “After all,” he said, picking up a bottle of gin, “you came all this way to see if my daughter was safe. You’ll always be welcome in this house.”

The sentiment stood alone and made Judith realise that to refuse them a bed would’ve seemed churlish. Wouldn’t she have done the same in the circumstances? “Let’s go through into the living room,” she said. “You know, Sheila, we were locked in there earlier with hordes of press at the gate.” Judith led Sheila off through the door, allowing Richard to pour generous measures into each expectant glass.

“Adam,” Richard said finally, recognising that his nephew remained in the room, rigid like a hat stand. “Go and tell Tom and Amy that his parents are here and that they’re staying, would you, please?”

Adam jumped to attention and left the room with some speed. He was in possession of some remarkably potent information.

“She’s not a bad girl,” Richard addressed Michael softly. “But I’m sure you know that from Tom, and I take it you’ve met her before?”

“I don’t doubt that she is,” came the reply from Michael. “And no, this is the first time that we’ll have met Amy.”

Richard turned and looked at him with surprise. “So, what, they’ve been courting for months, and you haven’t met Amy and we hadn’t met Tom until this weekend?” They stared at each other. “Am I alone in thinking that’s odd?”

Richard handed Michael his drink and continued to look around quizzically.

“I’ve tried to stop thinking about what’s odd and what isn’t in Tom’s life. I mean, have you seen the guy he shares a house with?” Michael managed flatly.

Richard balked his drink. “Sadly, yes. He’s here! Came this morning. Toby, wasn’t it?”

“Ashley,” Michael said by means of correction. “Tom says that he’s had a bad life, an horrific childhood and all, but I just wonder why Tom’s sharing his house with him rather than settling down. It certainly makes you wonder what goes through their heads.” Both men fell silent. There was a period of contemplation as they each wondered what they’d do in the circumstances. “Back when I was Tom’s age, I’d be thinking about marriage now, but he doesn’t seem interested,” continued Michael. “In truth, neither of them does.”

Richard looked into his glass for answers. “Well, given what’s happened, maybe he knew. Maybe they’re not quite as sweet on each other as we’ve been led to believe. Maybe they’re not the couple we think they are.”

Nodding his agreement, Michael added, “Or the couple they want us to think they are?”

The bottom of Richard’s glass yielded no further answers, so he looked up. He knew that there was something relevant and striking in what Michael had said, but he wasn’t sure what. The day had robbed him of his capacity to filter and process thoughts. “Shall we take their drinks through?” he asked, ending the conversation.

“Dad!” Tom said, hurtling into the room. “What are you doing here?”

Richard and Michael exchanged glances that offered one another support. “I’m here to make sure you’re both alright,” Michael offered, adding with some anger, “seeing as you haven’t answered any of your mother’s messages.”

“Yes, sorry,” said Tom. “There’s no signal here and when I was at the police station, well, I didn’t have my phone on.”

Michael’s relief at
seeing his son well and in generally fine spirits wasn’t going to extend to allowing him to ignore his parents. “Go and see your mother – she’s in the…” He looked at Richard.

“The living room,” Richard offered, putting drinks on a tray. “Come, we’ll all go. Finally, you’ll get to meet Amy.”

At that moment, the door opened and Adam walked in. “Amy says she’ll be down in a minute; she’s just drying her hair.” Richard nodded acknowledgement of the news and walked on, with Michael trailing behind. “I’ll get us some drinks, eh, Tom?” said Adam, heading in the opposite direction.

“Great, thanks,” came the reply as Tom followed his father out into the hall.

Approaching the lounge, Tom’s father stopped momentarily and glanced back at his son, who was looking sheepish. “He seems nice,” he said, gesturing towards the room with Adam in it.

Instinctively and without thinking, looking only ahead to find his mother, Tom replied, “Yeah, he is. Very nice.”

He stopped in his tracks, realising that he’d been caught off-guard – albeit innocently. He looked up at his father, who grinned back at him. “Good,” Michael said. “I’m glad to hear it,” he added, before walking into the lounge to join everyone.

Once Adam had entered the lounge with the drinks, everyone set about waiting for Amy. It seemed like the rather perverse conclusion to an extraordinary weekend: both sets of parents, close friends and family waiting for the broken couple to be reunited for the evening – oh, and a wedding, too. In many respects, it was the ultimate in convention, yet, in others, it was so far removed from convention it was almost farcical.

They all sat around, alien to the merriment outside on the lawn.

Richard was determined that the day, which had started tortuously, would end well. He was beyond caring that there was a wedding in his garden; he was just focused on the fact that there was a party in progress. Looking around at the strained, sullen faces in his company, he knew that there were plenty of people there who’d benefit from letting their hair down.

“I know this might not sound like the done thing,” he opened, “but as you know, my niece is getting married today. What with one thing and another, we’ve been unable to join the celebrations as yet.” Tom looked down once more. He wasn’t exactly the culprit but, in Amy’s absence, he took the blame. “I’ve spoken to my niece, who’s told me that she wants the day to end on a high,” continued Richard. “She doesn’t want her wedding day to be marred by an unfortunate sequence of events.

“
So, I propose that we take our drinks, once Amy is down, and attend the wedding. All of us. If nothing else, they have a free bar and a disco, which I intend to make use of.”

Judith looked up, kindly but apologetically. “I don’t think we’re in the mood, darling.”

Richard wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. “Nonsense,” he said. “It’s exactly what we all need. This long day, this God-awful day, is nearly over. Our children are safe, they’re free from scandal, and they’re happy and healthy. If that isn’t something to celebrate, what is?”

It was a fairly compelling argument, even if the people in question were, in reality, exhausted strangers.

“Michael, Sheila, I appreciate that this isn’t how you expected the day to end. But you’ve had a long drive, so we’ll show you to your room, where you can freshen up. We’ll feed you – I know there’s a mammoth buffet yet to come – and you can let your hair down. I know that’s what Judith and I need to do. Then the children can do what they like. Frankly, after the day I’ve had, I don’t care, so long as they don’t leave the premises or set fire to anything.”