A Suitable Lie (23 page)

‘Let’s get you a seat and sort out this mess.’ She led Anna to an armchair.

‘Fuck the seat,’ Anna raged. ‘Arrest this bastard and get him the hell out of here.’

‘I know this looks bad, but I can explain everything,’ I said, trying to appear calm. The grip on my arm tightened. The man under the rim of the police hat, stared at me with loathing. ‘You prick,’ he said just loud enough for me to hear. I could easily see what he was seeing. A large man, bent over a much smaller, beautiful and bleeding woman. Case closed.

‘I’m Constable Jane Orr and this is Constable Ian Russell,’ said the female. The gorilla at my side grunted. ‘We need to ascertain the problem here before any corrective action is taken.’

‘The problem is that horror show is still in this house. Get him the hell out of here.’ Anna spat.

‘If Mrs Boyd would calm down and tell us what happened then we could settle matters.’

‘What? You’re not going to arrest him?’

‘Tell me what happened.’

‘His dinner wasn’t on the table when he came in from work and he went mental. Chucking furniture around the room, breaking plates and everything.’

Orr looked around the room as Anna spoke. Her expression seemed too say, if there had been such a melée why was the room looking so tidy? Anna realised her mistake. She had gotten carried away with her performance and needed to reign it in.

‘He made me tidy it all up, before he started to hit me. Look. I think he’s broken my nose.’

‘It’s all lies. You’re not going to be taken in by this performance are you?’ I looked at Russell and then Orr. Russell’s face was an essay in disgust as he met my eyes. He had seen it all before. Too many times to count. He looked as if he would love to take me outside and rub my face along a barbed-wire fence. Orr had questions in her eyes. She didn’t look as convinced.

‘Mr Boyd, what’s your side of the story?’

‘I came home from work and was assaulted by my wife.’

A snort exploded in my ear. ‘Yeah, right!’ A case of two positives making a negative. Officer Russell looked pointedly at Anna and then at me. ‘Who’s telling the porkies now then?’ He said. ‘I think you need a night in a cell to cool you down, Mr Boyd.’

‘Em, I think we need a little more corroboration before anyone is locked up,’ said Orr, quietly but firmly.

This young lady was no stooge and I was immediately grateful for her presence. If two male cops had come to the house, I would be in handcuffs and on my way to another night in a police cell. Her colleague shot her a glance; it promised a few words once they were on their own. It also admitted that she was in the right. I relaxed a little.

‘So are you going to lock up this bastard or not?’ demanded Anna, thrusting her face into Orr’s.

She didn’t back off and held Anna’s stare. ‘We are here to calm things down, Mrs Boyd,’ she said.

‘Yes…’ interrupted Russell. ‘And it looks like the only course of action we have at the moment is to remove Mr Boyd from the premises.’ He smiled in celebration of his little victory.

‘Do you have anywhere to go, Mr Boyd?’ asked Orr.

‘Uh … yes, I mean … I think so,’ I answered, stunned. I was the
victim here, yet I was being evicted from my own home. But that wasn’t enough for Anna. She wanted more, she wanted an arrest, she wanted a conviction.

‘You’re sending him away?’ she stormed. ‘Look at me, fucking look at me you pair of inbreds. He’s broke my fucking nose.’

‘You did that yourself you sad bitch,’ I roared at her. ‘I’m the one covered in bruises.’

‘Right, the pair of you shut up,’ Russell bellowed over our raised voices. From the expression on his face now, he wasn’t quite as sure as he had been. ‘We’ll lock up both of you for a breach of the peace if you don’t calm down.’ We both fell silent. ‘Right, Mr Boyd, grab some things and we’ll escort you from the premises.’

‘Why do I have to go?’ I demanded.

‘Because I fucking say so.’ Russell was losing what remained of his professional detachment.

‘Because…’ Orr’s bulleted a warning stare at her partner, and then continued to address me in her now familiar resolute tone ‘… because, you’re the man. Because you look much more able to look after yourself. Because’ – she looked around the room at children’s videos and books – ‘the children will need their mother.’

‘The children need their father.’ I fought to keep my tone reasonable. I knew from friends in the police that it wouldn’t be too difficult for them to lock me up for the night. A Breach of the Peace charge was easily fabricated. ‘The boys
need
their father more than they need this excuse of a mother.’

Anna lunged at me, knocking off Orr’s hat. Orr held her off and glared at her.

‘We could as easily decide that the mother has to find somewhere else to go.’

‘But I have nowhere else to go.’ Anna crossed her arms under her breasts and sat down. Both movements had the effect of reminding everyone in the room just who was the smallest. ‘I have no friends or relatives here. Andy’s family live about ten minutes away.’

Both police officers looked at me.

S
leeping in a car is not a comfortable experience for a man of my size. But I had no other option. If I didn’t leave my home of my own volition, I would have left in handcuffs and spent another night in a cell. A second criminal charge against me would not go down well with my employers.

There was no way I was going to knock on Jim’s door or my mother’s. That would have meant either facing up to the truth of my marriage or telling them more lies. Neither option sat well with me. I simply couldn’t handle the shame of admitting my situation to the two people in the world who knew me best. Correction: who thought they knew me best. The Andy Boyd they knew would not have sunk so low. No, I would have to rough it for a while until I could think of a way out.

With a ski jacket as my quilt, I half-sat, half-lay in the backseat of my car, in a car park near the beach. I had forgotten that this was a favourite place for local lovers to park and have a quick shag. Being a week night, it was fairly quiet, but those cars parked alongside me were skewers in the gut of my loneliness. Each sweep of headlights as another car drove in or out, each high-pitched giggle, each note from a squeaky suspension, reminded me of how unlucky I’d been in love. It seemed as if the whole world was happy apart from me. I could have moved and parked elsewhere, but I couldn’t think of another spot that I would not have been moved on from.

I looked at the clock on the dashboard: 10:05 p.m. It was still quite early. Not yet closing time over at Bridges’ Bar. I stepped out of the car and locked the door before realizing what I was doing. Five minutes later I was leaning against the bar, with a pint of lager in my hand.

I
was onto my third or fourth pint within the hour when a man nudged past me. Just a little too heavily. It was clearly with a purpose. I turned to face whoever it was. It was Ken Hunter, Sheila’s husband.

He pushed his face into mine. ‘You shagging my wife?’ he hissed.

The wall behind us was three paces away. It took me a second to push him up against it. My hand at his throat. My teeth millimetres from his nose.

‘Ho, mate you cannae do that in here,’ someone shouted.

‘If you wankers are going to fight, take it outside,’ another voice shouted. Good suggestion, I thought and pulled at Ken’s jacket collar until we were out the door.

The next few moments were lost in a fury of punches and it only registered what I was doing when three men pulled me away.

One man said, ‘He’s had enough, mate.’ I tried to fight against the hands that were holding me, but they were too strong. ‘He’s had enough.’ The same voice. Quieter this time.

My vision cleared enough for me to see Ken curled in a ball under the window of the bar.

‘Prick put his wife in the hospital,’ I said.

‘Well, if you carry on, he’ll be in the bed beside her,’ one of the men said.

Now that the danger of more harm was over, Ken pushed himself up to a sitting position and leaned against the wall. Chest heaving, he managed a smile. Wiped blood from his mouth with a sleeve. The expression on his face surprised me. He looked like someone who had just done something immensely satisfying. Mingled there was the fresh thought that he had a new enemy. He couldn’t have looked any happier if someone handed him the keys to a new car.

He blew me a kiss. ‘This isn’t over,’ he said.

‘Great. Any time you need your arse kicked, just give me a shout,’ I replied. I wasn’t spooked by his attitude. I knew I could take him anytime.

B
ack in the car, feeling my knuckles ache, I accepted that sleep
was not happening. I sat up, pulling the jacket tight around me, and I considered the night’s events. I discounted Ken Hunter and concentrated on Anna. Could I have expected any other solution? Could I have done better? The police were adamant that I was the one to go. If I’d been in their position I wasn’t sure that I would have decided any differently. They did allow me to say goodnight to the boys before I left. When I entered their room the sight of them nearly undid me. I sagged to my knees, stifling a sob. How could I leave them in this house? I needed them with me.

The light shone in from the hall and it lit upon their two angelic faces, pressed together. Pat was in Ryan’s bed and was holding his little brother to his chest. He must have climbed in beside Ryan to offer some consolation. Judging by his posture, Pat would have been sitting up when he fell asleep, possibly determined to make sure that his father was all right before falling asleep. Sleep, however, had other ideas, and had caused him to slump, his head coming forward so that his cheek rested against his brother’s head.

Thoughts raced through my mind. I could take them both with me. My mother would take them in. I could slip Ryan into my big sports bag, but Pat would not be so easy to hide. Perhaps I could wake him up and tell him to sneak out later, when Anna was in bed. Get a grip, Boyd, I told myself. It was painful, but I had to admit that it was in the boys’ best interests to have as little disruption in their lives as possible at this point. But was I abdicating my responsibility by leaving them here? Never. I would fight with my last breath to make sure that my boys were safe.

‘Mr Boyd.’ A voice came from the stairwell, forcing me from my reverie. ‘I think you’d better go now.’

Feeling like I’d left part of my soul in that room, I walked out.

Constable Orr was at the bottom of the stairs. She read my expression. ‘I am sorry,’ she whispered with an eloquent shrug.

Although I could understand her view and I appreciated the sentiment, I was in no mood to be polite. I managed a small nod of thanks and walked past. With my car keys in one hand and a suitcase
in another, I walked out of my home. Anna’s stare burned into my back, but I didn’t acknowledge her presence. I wanted to scream at her; I wanted her to see how much pain I was in; I wanted her to count the tears that were sliding down my cheeks. But she would only have fed on them.

T
he Carnegie Library was but a book’s throw across the River Ayr from the bank. As I read the newspapers the next day my thoughts made the journey over the water several times. With inky fingers I rubbed my unshaven jaw. I couldn’t even go over there to find out what was happening. For one thing I was a mess and for another I wasn’t exactly their pet project. The thought occurred to me that I could run over, hang around outside and watch who came and went. I might learn something that way.

I walked up The Sandgate, keeping to the opposite side of the street from the bank. The doorway of a bookshop might prove a good vantage point. It was at a bus stop, so people wouldn’t question why if I hung about for a long time. Propped against a wall, I waited.

My feet were sore, my back ached and my stomach thundered. I needed a seat, a wash and a feed, but I couldn’t move. I had to wait and see if I could judge what was going on.

Two hours later and nothing of consequence had happened. Just a steady flow of the usual customers. It was just as well I was out of sight, for they might have thought I’d lost my mind.

Eventually, the sounds and sensation coming from my midriff won the war. I would have to find something to eat. There was the baker’s shop back down the hill or the sandwich shop across the road, two doors down from the bank. I decided to risk the latter. It was closer and I would miss less if I went there.

Just as I was about to enter the shop I heard a familiar voice.

‘Andy? Andy?’ It was Sheila. Shit. I didn’t want her to see me in this state. It was too late, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t hear her, she would only follow me into the shop. I turned round.

‘Hi, Sheila. How are you?’

‘Fine, Andy. More to the point, how are you?’ She looked me up and down, her eyebrows tight with alarm at my appearance.

Noticing that we were causing a bit of a jam in the doorway, we stepped to the side.

‘Andy, I am so sorry about what happened.’ For a moment I thought she was talking about Anna and me. She continued speaking. ‘That bastard Campbell, I can’t believe he treated you like that. You’re worth ten of him. How dare he?’

Sheila’s indignant words worked on me like a talisman. I straightened my back.

‘Does everyone know?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ she answered. ‘Mr Tact and Diplomacy made sure of that. I swear, that man should be shot.’

‘What’s the general consensus among the staff?’ Any occurrence of wrongdoing in any of the branches I’d worked in had always caused a queasy atmosphere. Trust in your colleagues was paramount where a good deal of money was concerned and any theft would create an atmosphere of disquiet and ill-feeling. Particularly if the person involved was management.

‘No one can believe you were involved. Everyone thinks that you were somehow taken in by Malcolm.’

‘Malcolm. Where the hell is he?’

Sheila shrugged. ‘No one knows. His mother said he was away down to London to see some friends.’

‘What does Regional Office think?’ Their opinion was the crucial one; my future at the bank would hinge on it.

‘I’m not so sure. They reckon that about five thousand has gone missing. They know you and Malcolm were involved…’ She let the implicit consequence of that hang in the air.

‘I’ve done nothing. Believe me, Sheila. Nothing.’ My stomach let out a rumble that not even a passing bus could mask.

‘Hungry?’ Sheila asked with a smile.

I nodded. She looked me over again. Her eyes taking in my unshaven chin, my creased clothes and no doubt the shadows under my eyes.

‘Try not to take it so hard.’ Sheila reached out and held my forearm. I winced as she inadvertently pressed on a bruise. Pulling my arm back, I looked away. Trying, but failing, to hide my discomfort.

‘There’s more isn’t there? Andy, what’s going on? You’re a … mess. You look as if you’ve slept in the back of a van.’

I said nothing, I just stood staring at the ground, wondering what I should say. Wondering what sort of lie I could come up with.

‘There are two things men tend to get in bother with. Booze and women. I can’t smell any booze, so it must be…’ She paused. ‘You had to find the truth out eventually.’

‘Find out? Find out what?’ What a strange thing for her to say.

Her hand flew to her mouth, ‘Oh shit, you haven’t … something
else
has happened.’

‘Sheila, you’d better tell me what’s going on.’ My voice sounded harsh, even to me.

‘You shouldn’t find out this way.’

‘Sheila?’ I stepped closer.

‘Right, but don’t shoot the messenger. There’s a rumour going round the branch that Anna’s been seeing someone else…’ Sheila was staring at her shoes.

‘No … no … nonsense.’

‘Everyone thinks that’s why you haven’t been yourself recently.’

‘Crap, absolute crap. When would she have the fucking time? Who started this shit?’

‘Toni Rodgers is friendly with one of your neighbours and she said she saw a man coming out of your house late one night and it wasn’t you.’

‘No. Don’t believe it. Toni Rodgers is a gossiping wee cow. I know Anna’s guilty of lots of things but sleeping with another guy? She wouldn’t do that. Especially with the boys in the house. And where was I? Watching I presume.’

‘It would have been around the time we were in Campbeltown.’

‘Sheila, how could you listen to this crap? You don’t believe it do you?’

‘Andy, I’m just repeating what I heard. I saw you looking a mess, put two and two together and thought it was all true. I’m really sorry. You’ve got enough on your plate without this. C’mon, I said I was sorry.’ She held my arm, her face pointed up at mine.

‘No, I don’t believe it. Anna wouldn’t do that.’

‘Okay, okay. But something is definitely not right between you.’

I opened my mouth to speak.

‘No,’ Sheila said. ‘You don’t need to explain anything. Unless you really want to. But you’re coming home with me to get some food, a good wash, a long sleep.’

‘What about your work?’ I took a step back from her. She didn’t need this. Me.

‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll just put some food on a plate for you. Don’t be expecting cordon bleu, and then I’ll go back to work. Leave you to shower and sleep.’ From her tone, she would brook no argument, so I gave in. Besides, everything she offered sounded extremely welcome.

S
team billowed from the plate of soup Sheila placed before me. Sandwiches too many in number tumbled off another plate. Sheila watched me eat, a smile of pleasure on her face.

‘What?’ I asked self-consciously.

‘Nothing … I’ve just never seen anyone attack a plate of soup and sandwiches with such relish.’

‘Starving…’ I mumbled through a mouthful of bread and ham. Realising that I was probably looking a little odd, I slowed down.

‘Anyway,’ Sheila stood up, ‘I’d better be going back to work. There’s a clean towel in the bathroom. You can have one of my disposable razors; no foam I’m afraid. I’ve put the dog in the kitchen so he doesn’t pester you. Help yourself to the couch.’

Her kindness moved me. Nearly choking on another mouthful, all I managed to say was ‘Thanks.’

I
was awakened by the sound of Sheila’s key in the door. It felt as if
my head had just rested on the cushion for a moment. The light on the VCR read 17.20. I’d been asleep for hours.

‘Hey sleepy.’ Sheila entered the room. ‘Sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. Things got a bit hectic this afternoon.’ Barking sounded from the kitchen.

‘Better go and get him first,’ said Sheila with a smile. She returned with the dog winding itself around her legs. He noticed me and came over for a sniff.

‘Was anything said about me today?’ I patted his soft fur.

‘No, nothing. Roy knows we’re friends. He wouldn’t tell me anything unless it was to your detriment. So things can’t be too bad.’ She smiled, hoping to pass on some reassurance. ‘Hungry?’

‘No I’m fine thanks.’ I couldn’t quite relax now that Sheila was home. This was her refuge from the world; she didn’t need me cluttering it up.