The Beard (36 page)

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Authors: Mark Sinclair

BOOK: The Beard
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On a more practical level, he’d just abandoned his parents. Not only was he in the process of following a path (both literal and figurative) that would cause them great pain, but he’d left them alone in a room full of strangers. This was out of character and it felt wrong… and right. Surely, he couldn’t just abandon them to a room of unknown faces, Ash and the woman they suspected of betraying him?

Yet he found himself still walking forwards. He was making the call, but it felt as if he wasn’t in control. He’d surrendered that to his emotional auto-pilot.

As they approached the house, Adam opened the door and went in ahead of Tom. Giving in to the oppressive curiosity, Tom turned and looked back. Was anyone watching? Had anyone seen? Seemingly, no one was there, so he stepped inside.

Tom was no newcomer to life but, standing there, he felt like this was his first ever date. The hallway was silent, but for the creaking of an old house and the occasional sound of a willowing wind careering through the corridor.

They stood in an enveloping darkness, the dearth of light making everything feel alarmingly anonymous. Occasional coloured shapes of light filtered through the window in the back door. This created a
Fantasia
-like array of patterns and shapes in the small stone porch where they stood.

Tom stood inches away from Adam. He could feel his breath, the heat from his body and his sheer presence. Tom kept the door handle in his hand. The plausibility of innocent explanation was fast diminishing and he needed a safety net.

Was this the moment?

“You’re not going to make an excuse to leave, are you?” whispered Adam.

Despite being shrouded in darkness, Tom shook his head to answer no. Adam waited for a reply and, assuming that silence was answer enough, exhaled his relief.

“So…” he said. “Ash tells me you want to speak to me about something?”

This caught Tom off-guard. “Sorry?” he mumbled, still conscious that someone may be listening.

Adam sought to explain simply. “Ash came up to me and told me that you liked me and wanted to know if I liked you. He said you wanted to speak with me in private.”

Tom was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to slap Ash, hard. On the other, he wanted to thank him. This was evidently the work of a master crafty person.

“He said the same to me,” said Tom by means of clarity.

Adam smiled. “Crafty devil,” he said. “So, then, do you like me?”

It would’ve taken a gargantuan amount of barefaced lies to say no. Why else would Tom be standing toe to toe, shoe to shoe with Adam in the darkness? Yet to admit it, as plainly as saying it out loud, felt like a tacit admission of being gay – something Tom had always managed to sidestep, employing semantics as a weapon whenever needed.

“Yes, I do,” he whispered. “And you?” It was an honest and direct question, born from the ache of loneliness and the uncertainty of any first steps in a relationship.

Adam reached out and grabbed Tom’s arms. He could feel Tom shake with fear. He knew that it was fear rather than anticipation, having watched this hitherto confident man stumble and bumble up a short garden path. “I do,” he said. “Very much so.”

A strange silence followed. The emptiness of the house and the buzz of the distant wedding provided a curious backdrop to the personal intensity condensed into a small space. Both had declared their intentions – and, in Tom’s case, admitted to them.

Adam leant forward and, very briefly, very gently, kissed Tom. Tom closed his eyes, in part to shut out the less-attractive aspects of reality and indulge in the moment. Fleeting though it was, it remained a proud statement of intent. Tom stood like a board, unsure how to move or react. He was sure it must’ve been the very worst kiss known to man, and yet it felt like the best. He remained rigid, slightly dazed, unsure of what to do next. What he was thinking was certainly out of the question. Not with so many people around and no locks on bedroom doors. Besides, their absence would be noted and someone would come looking for them. He wasn’t sure if what had happened was all that would happen.

He’d been speared by amorous intent in the past, but those who’d promised a future had melted away as the sun rose. As captives in the same house, he wasn’t sure if that would happen here, but he couldn’t rule it out.

“What now?” asked Tom. Adam laughed at the innocence of the question. “We have to go back. We have to. We can’t stay here. They’ll come and find us.”

Tom was reluctant to agree, but knew that he’d have to. “I know. Just… let’s stand here a minute longer, hmm?”

Adam was about to offer his agreement when voices were heard beyond the door. Their eyes having adjusted to the light, they immediately looked at each other in shades of panic.

“Go out the front and straight around to the back,” Tom said, pushing Adam away softly and out of sight. Opening the door and darting straight out, he feigned surprise and jumped at the sight of Amy’s father. “Richard!” he said as a means of letting Adam know who was coming. “You startled me. I knew I should’ve put some lights on.”

Richard looked at him curiously, as if his face betrayed a truth. “You alright, chap?” he enquired. “You look a bit funny.”

Tom laughed an unconvincing laugh. “Me?” he said, as all guilty people do. “I’m fine. Just popped to the little boys’ room.”

Richard looked back at him as if in need of qualification. “Why didn’t you go to the lavatories in the marquee?”

“Did you see those queues?” Tom asked breathlessly. “I thought it better to make use of my last evening’s house advantage. That’s OK, isn’t it?”

He knew full well that it would be, but it served as another well-worn tactic. Change the direction of the conversation and, in doing so, alter its tone.

“Of course it is, old man!” came the bombastic reply. “Anyway, you seen Adam? I think he might need to escort his mother to bed.”

“Adam?” Tom questioned, as if it were the first time he’d heard the name. “No, the last I saw of him, he was in the marquee chatting to his cousins. Haven’t seen him since.”

Richard nodded. “I see.”

Tom smiled but remained where he was, blocking the path to the house. “I mean, that was ages ago,” added Tom
unnecessarily. “And I’ve not seen him, er, since.”

Richard stood and looked squarely at Tom. “Well, thanks for that. Now, if I can just get past?”

Tom apologised and stood aside long enough for Richard to pass by. As the door closed behind Amy’s father, Tom fell against the wall and let out a large, unrestrained sigh. The door swung open again and Richard stood in the doorway, puzzled as to why Tom was still standing there.

“Just getting a bit much in there,” he said, gesturing to the party. “Thought I’d have some air.”

Richard smiled. That was an explanation he could relate to. “I thought as much. Come and have a drink – I want a chat.”

Richard held the door open and Tom followed as they wandered down the echoing corridor to the study by the main door. As Tom entered the beautiful, wood-panelled room, with its large desk, bookcases and high-back leather chairs astride a stone fireplace, he couldn’t fail to be impressed. The luxuriously thick lined curtains cascaded from the ceiling like a fountain of velvet. Their green opulence added to the room’s earthy tones and softened the auster
ity of a very formal study.

Richard gestured towards an armchair by the unlit fire and Tom sat down. Sitting opposite Tom and distributing their drinks, Richard took a deep sigh. “I want to ask you a question, man to man,” he said with some assurance.

“Fire away,” said Tom in exchange and downed almost all the contents of his glass in fear.

Richard seemed not to notice, as he pondered the words to use. “No man should have to go through what you have today. I know Amy is my daughter but, let’s be frank, I brought her up to be honest, not to deceive. If she’d wanted to be with someone else, she should’ve told you rather than play away. It’s not right and it’s not done. It’s most certainly not what I’ve brought her up to believe.”

Tom wasn’t sure what to say. Did he agree or disagree?

“So
I’ve made a decision,” continued Richard. “I want my daughter to be happy, of course I do, but I also want her to make the right decisions. To be morally sound and just. As such, I’ve decided that she’ll be removed from our will until such time that she shows some integrity. Judith and myself discussed it at length while you were at the police station and we’re both agreed. She’ll not get a penny until she sees sense.”

Tom was dumbstruck. “Sir…” he began, about to launch into a passionate defence of his former fake girlfriend, “I would just say…”

“No, dear boy, there’s nothing to say,” barked Richard, stealing his thunder. “There you are, standing by her through thick and through thin. By her side, like any husband – sorry, boyfriend – would. Yet she betrays you not once but twice. It galls me, frankly, Tom, so we’ve made the decision. I appreciate that you might find this a little harsh, but I don’t want my money squandered in any matter of illicit and immoral activities when I’m gone. Obviously, if you can convince her to marry you, I’ll reverse it in a heartbeat. But after what’s happened, I’d understand if you didn’t want to.”

Tom sat and stared at Richard, who looked deadly serious. Was this a joke? A test? They both sat in momentary silence as Richard sipped his drink.

“You know, Tom, it’s a shame you won’t be joining our family. I would’ve liked that.” Richard looked misty-eyed.

“So would I, sir,” said Tom, desperately trying to devise another prong of attack in getting Amy her inheritance back.

“Yes, it’s a shame that you won’t be with us at Christmas or Easter,” Richard continued, looking melancholic as he spoke. “They’re big family occasions, you know. It would’ve been good to have you around. Another man. I’m often surrounded by women! Do you know what I mean?”

Tom nodded. “I do sir, I do.” He didn’t.

Richard, who’d brought the bottle to the table, topped himself up. “Help yourself,” he said to Tom, gesturing at the bottle. “Women here, there and everywhere – sometimes, I just want to see another man in the house. Do you relate, Tom?” Tom sat, petrified, unsure whether this was a test or a true man-to-man chat. “Someone to talk to about cricket would be nice.”

Ah, thought Tom, that answers that.

Richard looked around the room. “I haven’t met many – well, no, any – of Amy’s other swain. Then you come along and I think, perfect. I can see her mother happy, I can see the grandkids. Then it turns out she’s been doing the nasty behind your back. My daughter doesn’t do things like that. That’s not her. She’s not on drugs, is she?” Richard asked. His puppy-dog eyes searched imploringly for an answer.

“No, sir, of course not. She’s not.”

Richard looked away again, nodding like a puppy. “Good. I just don’t understand what got into her. Why did she do it? I’m so vexed, Thomas.” Tom always thought it peculiar that people assumed that his full name was Thomas. It was, but it was still an assumption. “So, she’s out of the will until she comes to her senses.”

Tom rolled the glass in his hands, nervous to speak but realising that his sexuality was now, quite literally, the million-dollar question.

“May I tell you something in confidence?” Tom asked Richard as he downed the contents of his glass and set about replenishing it quite generously. Richard looked up inquisitively. What on earth would yet be revealed? What new twist must he brace himself for? Tom continued: “This man, this Sam, that Amy was seeing. I knew about him. All along, I knew about him.” He paused. This was a statement of fact, but he had no idea where the conversation would go from here. “Amy didn’t cheat on me.”

“Oh, my God,” thundered Richard. “It was an open relationship?”

Tom put his hand out to calm the situation. “No, of course it wasn’t,” he said, slightly brittle at the suggestion. “Amy and I have been friends now for a long time. And, well, I can’t sit here and watch you take away her inheritance over a deception.” He paused to take breath. “The true deception.”

Richard looked puzzled. “True deception? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

Tom nodded. “Look, Amy and I aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. We never have been.” The statement was delivered wrapped in padding, but fell to the floor like an iron bar. The rhetorical clang reverberated around the room. Richard’s eyes widened. “Amy asked me to play the part to keep her mother happy. What with Judith’s illness, we thought it…”

“Illness?” said Richard immediately. “What illness?”

Tom was trapped. He was unsure of what to say but determined to make everything better. It was a desperate strategy, but one that hadn’t included unveiling someone else’s secret. “Erm, well, I’m not sure, but I believe your wife found a lump… Amy said.”

Richard rose to his feet with an energetic whoosh. Once upright, however, he realised that he wasn’t as steady on his feet as he’d thought. Standing there, incandescent at the news, like a skyscraper in a high wind, he swayed slightly. “Stay there,” he said and headed for the door.

As soon as Richard left the room, Tom jumped to his feet. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” he said.

“Is the coast clear?
” came a voice from behind the curtains. Tom nearly launched into orbit in shock as Adam emerged from behind the wall of velvet.

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