A Question of Love (23 page)

‘Here to present
Whadda Ya Know?!!
is…Lau-ra QUICK!’

Jessica shot me an approving look.

‘So let’s meet today’s four contestants…’

‘I’m Christine Schofield…’

‘I’m Doug Dale…’

‘Hi, I’m Jim Friend…’

‘I’m Luke North. I’m an art dealer and I live in West London.’

Jessica sat bolt upright. She pointed at the TV, her mouth a perfect ‘O’. Then she turned and gawped at Luke, then looked at the screen again.

He grinned. ‘That’s your surprise, Jess!’ She was wreathed in smiles. She looked at the TV again, then clapped her hands together in speechless astonishment.

‘It was a surprise for me too,’ I said wryly. ‘A
big
one.’

‘It’s Monrovia…
Kerching
!…Juniper…
Kerching
!…The Minoans…Argentina…
Whoop
!…Caprine…Yellow…
Whooop
! Eagle…Michaelangelo…It was Michaelangelo.
KERASHHHH
!!!’

‘You
won,
Daddy! You
won
!’ Jessica was radioactive with excitement, jumping up and down on the sofa, squealing with laughter. ‘You’re my clever,
clever
Daddy!’

Luke and I had agreed that I’d leave after the show was over, so I went into the hall to get my coat. ‘Mummy will be so surprised!’ I heard Jessica exclaim as I unhooked it. ‘She’ll be so,
so
surprised when I tell her won’t she?’

‘She will darling,’ Luke said as I picked up my bag. ‘But, you know, Jess,’ he added quietly, ‘I think it’s better if you
don’t
tell Mummy that you met Laura tonight. Okay?’ I felt the by-now familiar sagging sensation, as though someone was dragging me down by my ankles. I went back into the sitting room. ‘Is that okay, Jess? You won’t say anything about meeting Laura, will you?’ She nodded, her euphoria gone, her shoulders slightly hunched, her head sinking towards her chest. ‘Now,’ said Luke, after a moment, ‘no more surprises tonight—up to bed young lady.’

‘I’m going home now,’ I said. ‘Bye bye, Jessica. It was lovely to meet you.’

She was standing on one leg, like a baby heron, as diffident now as when I’d first arrived. ‘Bye,’ she said quietly.

‘I hope I see you again,’ I said. She gave me a little half smile.

‘Up you go then, sweetie,’ said Luke. ‘I’ll come up in a minute and read you a story.’

‘
Why
couldn’t she tell Magda she’d met me?’ I whispered as Jessica ran up the stairs. ‘Magda’s with Steve, and now you’re with me—and that’s all there is to it.’

‘I know, but she’s been making such awful threats. She said yesterday that if I involved you with Jessica in
any
way she’d reduce my access.’

‘She
can’t
—you were married, so you have automatic parental responsibility, don’t you?’

‘Yes. But the fact is that Magda can still do whatever she likes. If she wanted to be awkward she could simply refuse to let me see Jessica, and then I’d have to go to court, which would take time, and money, and yes, I’d get the contact order all right—but she’d flout it. That’s what happened to a friend of mine. His ex-wife simply ignores the orders with the result that he hardly ever sees his two kids. I don’t intend to let that happen to me, so I have to be
very
careful, which means I take Magda’s threats seriously.’

‘But people who make threats the whole time tend not to carry them out.’

‘That may be so, but I don’t want to rile her.’

I put on my scarf. ‘But you don’t mind riling
me
. And I feel sorry for Jessica, being told to keep quiet like that. It’s not right, Luke.’

‘She’s already used to it, I’m afraid. The children of separated parents learn to be discreet—she never ever mentions Steve. But because you were on the TV I thought she might say something, and it’s best at this stage if Magda doesn’t know.’

‘I see,’ I said. I opened the door and a gust of frigid air chilled my face. I looked at him. ‘I
hate
the way you kowtow to her, as though she were some effing…
deity.’

‘That’s because you don’t understand how difficult my situation is.’

‘I do,’ I said. It was so cold, my breath was billowing out in little puffs, like cigarette smoke.

He shook his head. ‘You don’t. Until you’ve had kids of your own, you can’t truly understand the nature of the attachment…’

‘I suppose that must be true,’ I said quietly.

‘It’s all-consuming.’ He clapped his left hand to his chest. ‘You’re joined to them,
here
, at the heart. And if you’re separated from them you feel so…anguished. Every day I live with the chronic fear that I will see Jessica much less, or that her mother will brainwash her into hating me, or that she might even take her abroad.’

I turned up my collar. ‘Could she do that?’

‘In certain circumstances, yes. She keeps saying that Steve wants to go and live in France and that if he asked her to go with him, she would. She also says that if it
doesn’t
work out with him she might go back to Hungary. So in order for those things not to happen, I walk this tightrope with Magda. It gives me emotional vertigo, but I have to do it in order to be with Jessica as much as I can—not just for me, but for
her.
Children
need
their fathers, Laura.’

‘Yes, of course, but—’

‘When Jessica’s here, I hardly sleep. Do you know why? Because when I’ve put her to bed, and tucked her up, and read her a story, then I sit next to her on a chair, and I stay there for hours, just sitting there, watching her sleeping, because I don’t want to miss even
that
. I don’t want to miss a single
second
of the time that I have with her.’ His eyes were shining with tears. ‘When Magda left me, she didn’t just leave me—she took away my
child—
she took away my
family
. So please
don’t
criticize me, Laura—please just try and understand. And if you
can’t,
then perhaps we shouldn’t be together.’

I felt myself panic.

‘I
do
understand. I
do
…’ My voice was thin and high. ‘Maybe more than you think. But understanding is different from
feeling.’

Luke blinked back his tears. ‘I know. I know it is, and I’m sorry, Laura.’ He reached for my hand. ‘I’m sorry my life’s not nice and simple like it was when we knew each other before—just you and me with no-one else to consider—but I couldn’t wish it any other way, because of Jess. But
please
bear with me.’ He pulled me to him, and wrapped his arms around me. ‘I love you Laura,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t want to lose you and I promise that it won’t always be like this. I promise you that everything
will
change. Over time.’

EIGHT

The next day most of the tabloids had photos of Luke’s quiz triumph, with typically inane captions
. LUKE WHO’S WON!
announced the
Daily Post
on page 9 beneath his smiling photo.
QUICK’S MARRIED LOVER WINS QUIZ!
announced the
News
. It knew about Luke’s abandoned attempt to Turn the Tables during the recording.
Well, we’d like to Turn the Tables too. And the question WE’D like to ask Laura is—why did your husband go missing?
I felt sick.
Charity supremo Nick Little disappeared three years ago, but tragic TV Laura is being comforted by old flame, contemporary art dealer Luke North. However, North remains married to his wife of nine years, Hungarian interpreter, Magda de Laszlo…See pages 7, 8 and 15.

‘This is horrible,’ I said to Tom as I read the piece again. We were in the tiny, windowless edit suite at the back of the building. He was editing yesterday’s show. He used to be a film editor so he prefers to do the first offline cut himself. Sara usually does it with him, but she’d gone early for Easter. I watched myself hop-scotch across the screen, in a series of freeze frames. As he did the mixing, I sounded like the Voice of the Mysterons one moment, then the next moment like Minnie Mouse.

‘Triton is the l-a-r-g-e-s-t ofwhichplanet’s m-o-o-n-s…? N—e-p-t-u-n-e…i-s- c-o-r-r-e-c-t. Neptuneiscorrect…is correct, is correct, is correct.’

‘I am not being “comforted”—nudge nudge—by Luke. I’m going out with him. And how dare they say that Luke’s still married to Magda—she left him almost a year ago.’

‘It’s because you’ve refused to talk to them,’ Tom said as he tracked back and forth, digitising the tape. He glanced at the timelines on the adjacent monitor, then tapped some numbers on to his keyboard. ‘They didn’t get their “My Heartache” story out of you so now they’re trying to imply that you’re a marriage-wrecker.’

‘Out of revenge?’

‘No—it’s just a different angle—however misconceived. They want to write about you, and they’re not going to let the fact that they couldn’t get an interview with you stand in their way.’

‘But
why
do they want to write about me?

Tom shrugged. ‘Because there’s this mystery in your background about Nick—and I suppose because they just…
do
. It’s odd, but some celebrities are completely ignored by the tabloids—however risky their behaviour—while others get a pasting day after day. Plus the
News
and the
Post
have this rivalry, so they’re like a pair of dogs fighting over a bone, and I’m afraid that, for the moment, that bone is you.’

‘Nerys was right,’ I said bleakly. ‘She said I should give them just one interview, so that they’d leave me alone.’

‘Nerys is very annoying, but she does, sometimes, just put her finger on things. The fact that you wouldn’t talk to them seems to have made them more determined.’

I read the piece again. It was like looking at myself in one of those grotesquely distorting fairground mirrors. Bile bubbled at the back of my throat. I’d been wrong in assuming that if I didn’t speak to them, they didn’t have a story.

‘Can’t I sue them? Or get them to print an apology?’

‘No—because he
is
still married, isn’t he?’

‘On paper. ‘

‘Then there’s no defamation. I’m sorry, Laura. It’s rough.’

‘Still, it’s all good publicity,’ I said acidly. ‘Channel Four must be thrilled.’

‘They can’t say it openly—but they are. Of course they are. They’d have to have spent a fortune to get this kind of coverage.’

‘I suppose
you
think it’s wonderful too?’

Tom looked offended. ‘I don’t actually.’

‘Be honest,’ I said. ‘You do.’

‘No.’

‘But you thought up the quiz so you must be pleased at the massive media exposure.’

‘Not if it’s at your expense. I hate seeing you getting so much…crap. In a small way, I know what that’s like.’ He was thinking of Tara. ‘But I’m afraid that’s—’

‘- the risk I took,’ I concluded bitterly.

‘To be honest, it is. And we discussed it at the time, and you decided that the opportunity was too good to miss.’

‘Which it was.’

‘Yes—but now you’re paying the price. I wonder if
Nick
has seen any of it,’ he added as he edited the sign-off into the commercial break. I looked at the paper again and at the absurd come-on in the box at the bottom of the page.

Do YOU know where TV Laura’s husband is? If so, please ring the Daily Post Hotline, in confidence, on 0800 677745
. There was a mugshot of Nick, captioned
Wanted!
as though he was a cattle rustler.

‘I do sometimes think about that. If he’s still in the country he could easily have done; he might even have watched the quiz. But for all I know he’s in Tasmania.’

I thought of the SudanEase slogan—
A Little Goes A Long Way.
Perhaps Nick had pondered that too, as he’d planned his…what? Flight from reality? He’d stepped out of his old life like a snake shedding its skin.

‘Maybe he’s in the Sudan?’ I heard Tom say.

I looked at him. ‘That’s unlikely. a) He didn’t take his passport, and b) if he had managed to get there, he’d have been spotted by one of the other aid workers and word would have got out.’

A silence descended, then Tom nodded at the photo of Luke. ‘But you’ve moved on now.’

‘I have. It’s funny, but you told me it was time I had a new relationship—and I met Luke that very afternoon. You told me to seize the day—and I did. It was only six weeks ago, but it feels like six months.’

‘So it must be going well, then—apart from this kind of garbage,’ He tapped the newspaper.

‘Hmm.’ I thought of Jessica’s snaps of Magda and Luke. ‘It’s…fine.’ I thought of her dishing up the goulash on Sundays. ‘It’s great.’

Next question…N-e-x-t-question. Nextquestionnextq-u-e-s-t-i-o-n.

‘And how’s love the second time around?’ I was surprised by this as Tom and I don’t really discuss anything personal. ‘Is it better than the first time?’

‘It’s…different, because his situation is more complex. His little girl’s lovely though. I met her last night. She’s adorable,’ I added longingly.

‘You become very fond of the children.’ Tom didn’t take his eyes off the screen while he completed the edit. There was a pause.

‘What nationality was the jeweller, Fabergé? Whatnationalitywas…was…w-a-s…’

‘In fact I’m in a similar situation myself.’

I looked at him. ‘You are?’

‘Russian…Ru-ss-ia-n…Thatiscorrect…c-o-r-r-e-c-t…’

‘My girlfriend has a little boy.’

‘Really? How old is he?’

‘Three and a half.’ I realized that that’s exactly how old Tom’s own son must be by now. ‘He’s a great little guy. I’ve only been seeing Gina since Christmas…’

‘Gina? But I thought…’ I stopped myself.

He looked at me curiously. ‘What?’

‘That—’
her name was Sam—
‘you were single. I mean, you hadn’t mentioned meeting someone.’

‘Well, as I say, it’s fairly recent—but I met Gina on New Year’s Day, and Sam’s her little boy.’
Ah.
‘He’s a lovely kid. I’ve become very attached to him actually.’ Into my mind flashed the Valentine card. So it was from
him
—that was sweet. But how
weird
, I then thought, that Tom could devote himself to someone else’s child, having effectively abandoned his own.