The Beard (7 page)

“Fantastic!” said the woman.

Tom turned on his broadest smile and asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

The woman, who was still beaming from the sight in front of her, blinked a few times before answering, “Sorry, my dear, how remiss of me. My name’s Edith. Aunty Edith.”

Tom looked back at her, wondering why anyone would christen their daughter Aunty.

It was only when Janet broke in with, “Oh, how wonderful, you’re Amy’s aunt!” that the penny dropped. And it did so with an almighty thud.

“Indeed, I am,” she replied, still staring at Tom.

It was at that point that Tom shot a panicked glance at Amy. Her taciturnity had been more than adequately explained.

Without any grace, Amy looked at Edith and blurted, “What are you doing here?”

Edith looked surprised by the tone, rather than the nature of the question. “Anniversary, darling – a surprise from your uncle. A night in a hotel, just a spot of luxury. What a sweet thought, don’t you think?”

Janet, who saw this intervention as an opportunity in the making, decided to milk the situation. “Oh, how lovely,” she said, aware of the discomfort.

“Now, Tom,” Edith said, taking his hand. “We’ve heard so very much about you. Amy has been telling her mother all about you. It’s such a shame that your job has kept you from visiting us in the country. We were beginning to wonder if you were even real!” Edith let out a forced laugh and looked over at Amy in reproach. “But here you are. And as handsome as I imagined!”

There was a pause as Edith stared up at Tom. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my dears, he’ll think I’m lost, so I must go. Oh, this is just so wonderful! Amy and Tom. Amy and Tom,” she sang. “Your mother is going to be delighted. See you later!” With a theatrical wave and some air kisses, Edith tottered off. As she did so, she reached inside her bag and produced a phone – an action that Amy was all too aware would result in a call to her mother. The night had not got off to the most auspicious start.

“Shall we go through?” said Janet. “Everyone is dying to meet you, Tom, I just know they are.” Take Amy’s arm… and mine,” she said, threading her arm through his. “That way, you’ll arrive with a beautiful woman on each arm. Every man’s dream, eh, Amy?”

Tom turned to walk into the grandiose ballroom, as Janet dragged him forwards and Amy attempted to drag him back. Being tugged in both directions, however subtly, left Tom feeling discombobulated. Looking forwards, through the enormous gilded glass doors, he saw crowds of people milling around. The amphitheatre was ready, the gladiators were about to enter.

Tom managed a sideways glance down to Amy. “You alright?” he whispered at her.

Amy’s face belied her true emotions. She shook her head and said, “I need a drink!”

The doors opened before them as they made their entrance. A small gathering at the front of the crowd turned and smiled. A sea of expectant faces welcomed the debutants to the ball. Tom and Amy smiled as Janet wandered off to speak to someone.

Turning to Tom, Amy managed through gritted, smiling teeth. “And I need that drink NOW!”

Tom sat at a large, circular banqueting table that looked as if a disillusioned, camp gay man had decorated it with tasteless wedding dresses. The white tablecloth was overpowered by a large, faux-stone vase in the centre, with plumes of feathers and flowers protruding from within, like an erupting volcano full of turkeys. The cutlery was overly heavy and over-sized. Every table was saturated in a gauche collection of multi-coloured glitter. Napkins that had resembled some form of bird lay half-used and strewn across the table, further accentuating the notion of a turkey massacre. The table decorations were as noxious and overpowering as Janet’s perfume.

Tom sat, politely smiling while trying to breathe through his mouth. He’d attempt anything to avoid inhaling the scented gas that hung around Janet like a fudge of flies. This wasn’t an easy feat, given that Amy’s boss, the lascivious lush, was poring over him as a chocoholic would over Willy Wonka’s factory keys.

“You know who you remind me of?” she asked for the umpteenth time. Having answered correctly on the previous eight occasions, Tom had given to feigning ignorance.

“No, who?” he said, looking expectantly anywhere but at her.

“Superman!” Janet declared with fanfare.

“Oh,” said Tom, trying everything to spot Amy in the crowded and noisy room.

“She’s told me, you know,” mumbled Janet, one hand grabbing Tom’s thigh.

Tom looked up, alarmed. Not so much at what he was about to hear but rather at the prospect that her hand may travel further north.

“Has she?” he said without interest.

“She has,” Janet slurred, bobbing around him like a jellyfish in a storm. “She’s told me everything.”
She nodded sagely and taped her nose, knowingly.

Tom felt sure that he was on safe ground
. Amy wouldn’t have embarrassed herself by admitting she invented a boyfriend. “Good,” he said, sipping a stranger’s unfinished wine.

“She and I are very close, you know. We talk. Girl to girl.”

“Good,” Tom just about managed and attempted to stand up. A vice-like grip rammed his leg against the chair. He took this to mean that Janet wanted him to stay. Tom glanced at her, just as another tuft of her hair spat itself out from its expertly soldered shape. With her ageing features caked in unconvincing youth, she reminded him of a crumbling rock face, a terrifying cascade of masonry that posed imminent threat to life and limb. Tom knew that he had to leave or face the consequence of offending Amy’s boss, by fending her off. Where was Amy?

“She told me that you two are in a bit of a sticky patch,” Janet continued. But Tom, oblivious to her words, simply nodded and continued to search for Amy. “She told me that she’s not sure if you’re The One. That the man from the gym, the one she’s been for drinks with, he might be The One. She said that she wants to keep her options open. I think you’re lovely, though. I can’t see why she’d want to see anyone else.” As she spoke, she gestured a verbal rainbow with her arm, arcing her hand across the sky as she said “anyone else”.

“Good,” said Tom.

Janet shuddered upwards, removing her hand momentarily. She stared at Tom in drunken confusion, her features slowly adjusting and then reacting to the news.

“Good?” she said. “Good?”

At this point, Tom processed exactly what she’d said to him. “Hold on a minute,” he said with a degree of urgency.
“What other man?”

Janet roared her approval. “Oh, you’re so masculine!” she declared.

Tom stood up. At first, he was outraged at what he was hearing. Then, as he stood looking at Janet swaying in her inebriated state, he realised that this was a golden opportunity.

“Excuse me, Janet,” he said and set off to find Amy. Janet’s hand snaked out to grab his arm, demonstrating a dexterity that her state didn’t justify.

“Room 303,” she said with a wink.

Tom walked off, happy to ignore said advance. As he walked through
the masses of drunken people talking loudly, attempting to dance on their own or clinging tearfully to pieces of Perspex with their name on it, he became increasingly outraged. It was one thing to be propositioned by a drunken grandmother, but it was quite another to discover that your imaginary girlfriend was being hypothetically unfaithful to you.

“There you are,” he said, seeing Amy side-on in a crowd. Grabbing her arm, he smiled and added, “Can I have a word, please?”

Amy looked at the crescent of people wondering what could be so crucial that she needed to be dragged away, while a few female co-workers looked at each other conspiratorially.

“Won’t be two shakes,” announced Tom.

He kept hold of Amy’s arm and actively dragged her through the crowd. Resting beside an ornate, white-and-gold glass door in a small alcove, he let go, resulting in her landing with a judder.

“What’s all that about?” she said affronted, dusting herself down.

“It’s about the bloke from the gym, that’s what it’s about.”

Amy looked horrified. “Oh God, she didn’t?”

“She did,” Tom spat back.

“
It’s not as if…” Amy began, before Tom cut her off in her tracks.

“Don’t even t
ry it. I don’t mind coming here and playing the part of your dutiful boyfriend, but I’m not going to be made to look like some kind of prick because you’re telling everyone at work that I’m not The One and that you’re doing some other bloke behind my back.”

Amy took some degree of umbrage at his tone. “I didn’t tell anyone that – I just said we went for drinks!”

Tom looked up to ensure that no one was within earshot. “And that’s OK, is it? Here I am trying to be this rock in your life and you’re making me look like a bloody fool. It’s not on, Amy. Honestly, you’re taking the piss.”

Amy looked genuinely nervous at Tom’s real and growing irritation. It was true that the permutations for disaster had been greater than she’d anticipated, but she’d been sure that her burgeoning relationship with the gym guy wouldn’t have been one of those factors.

“Look,” she said sheepishly, “I’m sorry. Really. It’s just that I met this guy a few weeks ago and we got on. He asked me out for a drink and, well, I went. I know I didn’t tell you. I just thought – I don’t know. After my recent record, I just wanted to meet someone without anyone knowing. No pressure, no expectations. Anyway, he asked me out again and then Janet saw him and me at the gym. She’s just joined. Thinks it’s full of musclemen who want to find a MILF.”

Tom was too angry to be nauseated by the image.

“So I just told her that I was having second thoughts about us and that we might not last the distance. But then this guy didn’t call back when he said he would, so I just forgot about him and assumed that she would, too. It was just a few drinks – honest. I should’ve realised that Janet wouldn’t be able to keep her trap shut. Sorry.”

Both of them stood in silence, staring at each other – conducting the rest of their conversation through a kaleidoscope of glares.

“You’ve made me look like a dick tonight, Amy,” Tom barked.

Amy had little ground to defend. “I know and I’m sorry – I really never thought it would come out. I thought she’d have forgotten all about it.”

Tom stood up and inhaled, taking in the room. The blur of anonymous faces and sounds amplified what he was feeling. He was irritated, not so much at Amy’s silly deception – he’d forgive her for that – but rather by the situation they’d both got themselves into. She’d been an ideal cover for him at work and he was her reserve boyfriend to appease an increasingly demanding family. A family that was convinced she was lesbian or had something wrong with her. It was agreed that Tom would be wheeled out only if push came to shove, and only if Amy hadn’t found someone suitable before then.

“There you are!” came the shrill voice, seemingly from behind a pot plant. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t find you in the mass of bodies. Did you win?”

The question from Aunty Edith seemed like a peculiar one. Both Tom and Amy stared back at her as if she was speaking in a foreign language. “Didn’t that woman say you were up for an award?”

Tom, having been jolted back to reality, nodded. “Yes, she won.”

Edith smiled, reached out and squeezed both their arms. “I bet you’re very proud of her, aren’t you?” she said, staring at Tom.

“Oh, yes,” he replied breathlessly. He looked over at Amy’s chastened features and added, “Words can’t quite describe how I’m feeling right now.”

Amy smiled and looked away, blushing somewhat. Edith had seen enough. “You don’t have to blush on my account, dear. I know all about love.”

Amy was about to interject when Edith produced a leather diary from her clutch purse. “Now, my dears, I’ve just spoken to your mother, Amy – by the way, she says you must call her the minute you get in; she doesn’t care how late it is – and we’ve agreed that you’ll both stay at
your parents’ on the 20th.”

Tom looked perplexed. “The 20th?” he asked, straight-faced, wondering what else Amy hadn’t told him. “What’s happening on the 20th?” he spat at her.

Edith looked at him, much as she would her Labrador if it had tracked mud into the house. “Yes, dear. The 20th is my daughter’s wedding. Claire? Amy must’ve said something about it? You’re both coming, of course.”

Tom shot a look in Amy’s direction that would’ve reduced her to a small heap of ash on the floor if it could. Trying to retain some decorum in full sight of this formidable matriarch, he was having none of it.

“The 20th of this month? I’m really sorry but I have a work function to attend. If only I’d known earlier, but I’m afraid my boss has said that it’s mandatory. I am sorry.”

Edith
immediately put her poker face into action. “Oh, really?” she asked, sensing a false hand in play.

“I’m afraid so,” said Tom, nodding.

“If only it was the 20th of the month after next!” she said, looking at Tom. A trap set.

“Exactly,” said Tom, unaware of where this was heading.