Beyond Death (7 page)

Ron watched as Claire slowly disappeared. He was relieved that Jay was feeling better but knew there’d be a time when he’d have to rein in Claire’s impulsiveness. He wasn’t looking forward to that day. Now that she’d gone he could relax without having to concern himself with what Claire would get up to while interfering in the lives of her family and friends.

*****

Chapter 4

Four months had passed since Claire’s funeral and Graham arrived home from work for the weekend. Marion was still cold and distant and Graham had reached a decision. He was going to come clean about his Monday to Friday life and the result of working away for so many years. He knew she’d be shocked but since Claire’s death, he’d wondered about the purpose of life and was fed-up with the deceit. It was the least Marion deserved.

She heard the key in the door and sighed, the corners of her mouth turning downwards. Marion should have been glad to see her husband but nothing had made her happy since Claire’s death and, if she was totally honest with herself, she hadn’t been happy in their marriage for years. The twins had settled back into their work routine now and although they were still devastated about their sister, at least they’d stopped smoking and were being sensible again. This was in part due to Fiona and Marion was grateful to her.

‘Marion, are you in?’ His voice shook her out of her reverie and Marion turned to face the door. She stood up straight and folded her arms. He was in for a shock of his own this weekend, and he would get exactly what he deserved. Sweet FA!

Graham looked at his wife and realized this wasn’t going to be easy.

Marion was in combative mode and didn’t plan on taking any prisoners. He was going to pay, and pay dearly, for ruining the best years of her life.

‘We need to talk.’ Said in unison and Graham noted that Marion’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. He was surprised that she hadn’t asked how his week had been. She usually did though without even pretending to listen to the answer.

‘I’ll go first.’ Said Marion indicating that Graham should take a seat as if he were a guest and not in his own home.

‘I have something to say.’ Replied Graham, hands on hips and standing his ground. He knew it was childish but didn’t wish to be usurped by his wife.

Marion carried on as if he’d said nothing. ‘I’ve been to see a solicitor,’ that shut him up, she thought. ‘And I want a divorce.’

Shocked into silence, Graham looked at his wife open mouthed and wide eyed.

‘But...’

‘I know all about Carol and your other life and I want you to leave my house. Do you hear me? MY HOUSE!’

Graham’s head was spinning. Two minutes ago he would have laughed had anyone said that Marion would leave him. He’d wanted to leave for years but somehow just hadn’t got around to it. And how did she know about Carol and what about Mel? Did she know about her as well? It was as if she’d read his mind and Marion’s voice ended any further speculation.

‘I also know that you still have a daughter and I don’t. I hope your fancy piece has got an income as I’m taking what’s rightly mine. Because of what you’ve done to me, Graham, I intend to fight you for every single item we own and the more miserable and unhappy that makes you, the happier I’ll be.’

Marion smiled that smile again and took in a lungful of air.

‘Now get out of my house. My solicitor will be in touch. I never want to speak to you again.’

Graham’s mind was reeling. ‘Let me explain, Marion...’

Marion balled her hand into a fist and banged it onto the table making him wince.

‘Get out. Now!’

Graham had never seen his wife so livid, yet in control. It scared him, but not enough to make him move. Not until objects started flying through the air toward him.

He just managed to dodge the Lladro lady which hit the glass-topped side table with incredible force, shattering both the glass and the ornament itself.

Christ, what was she doing? thought Graham. He knew she loved that ornament.

Next came the small carriage clock that the firm had presented to him after 25 years with them. That was a direct hit to his left elbow and Graham yelled in protest. He made it through the door as a third object hit causing damage to the door he was sure, but he didn’t stop to check.

Marion slapped her hands together once she’d heard the front door slam and looked around the room. Her home usually looked like a show house but now the lounge looked like the aftermath of a terrorist attack. Instead of feeling concerned Marion smiled to herself. That had felt good and for the first time since Claire’s death she hadn’t thought about her daughter for a few minutes. The intense pain returned with thoughts of Claire. Marion sat on her settee, put her head in her hands, and sobbed.

*****

Graham put his weekend bag back into the car and drove as if being chased by the devil. He stopped at the first service station on the motorway and ordered a coffee to drink in the car. Trying to collect his thoughts, what had happened with Marion seemed like a dream. Now that his marriage was actually over Graham wasn’t sure how he felt. He knew he needed somewhere to stay and called Carol.

Carol saw his name display on the mobile and ran up the stairs to take the call.

‘So you want to come home for the weekend? It’s a bit short notice.’ She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. The only times he’d stayed the weekend during the past fifteen years had been for Mel’s birthdays or other special occasions when she’d made a fuss, and these occasions had been planned well in advance. Something was up.

‘I’ll explain when I get there, but we need to talk. Can Mel stay with a friend tonight?’

Carol explained that Mel was staying with a friend from boarding school that weekend so wouldn’t be home. It wasn’t Mel that Carol would have to get rid of and she hesitated, trying to think of a solution.

‘Carol? You there, Carol?’

‘Yes of course. Actually, Graham. It’s not very convenient this weekend, I have plans.’

‘What do you mean you have plans? I need to stay and I need to talk to you, Carol.’

‘I’m going away for the weekend,’ said Carol, clutching at straws. ‘To Butlins with some friends, sorry love.’

Graham was a little put out but not too bothered. He could do with some time on his own to get his head around his current situation.

‘Not a problem. I’ll stay at the house anyway until you get back.’

‘No. No you can’t. One of the reasons I’m going away is because I’m getting new windows put in downstairs. It’s Roger’s firm and they’re working Saturday and Sunday so it will be finished by the time I get back.’

‘Okay, said Graham,’ smelling a rat. ‘I’ll see you Monday evening.’

They hung up and Carol was relieved that he’d accepted her story.

‘Everything all right, love?’ He shouted from the living room and she answered that it was fine and that she’d be down in a minute. She went to the bathroom and checked her face. Her colour was normal and she smiled and made her way downstairs. That had been a close one and she wondered why she lied to him about Roger when he had his own double-life. The only one it wasn’t really fair on was Roger. It wasn’t the first time that Carol wondered why she didn’t make a clean break from Graham and have an honest and serious relationship with kind, dependable Roger.

Two hours later Graham arrived unexpectedly and discovered that the rat he had smelled was named Roger. Roger left them to it and Carol was furious that Graham had spoiled her weekend life. He was mad that she’d been deceiving him.

‘Let me get this right,’ she said, hands on hips and scowling. ‘You can have a whole other life and family, but I have to sit here on my own when you’re not about, like a good little woman?’

‘It’s the deceit, Carol. I have never deceived you. And I can’t bear the thought of another man touching you.’

Carol laughed bitterly. ‘I really liked Roger and you’ve ruined it. Get out Graham. I should have done this a long time ago. It’s over.’

Graham shook his head, but Carol was insistent. He left, head hanging, defeated.

Having managed to lose both his wife and lover within a matter of hours, Graham was gutted. He was surprised to discover that he felt worse about losing Marion than he had about Carol. He’d still be able to see Mel and would also support her, so that wasn’t a problem. Being the practical man that he was, he knew he had to deal with his immediate concerns and find a place to stay for the weekend. Marion thought Graham had his own apartment but ever thrifty, for the last three years he had rented an en-suite room Monday to Friday on the understanding that he’d be away every weekend. The rent was cheap and it gave him more money to maintain his double life, a lot of good that did him now he tutted. Margaret and Bernie were a kindly old couple and didn’t bother him. He was at Carol’s or working late most nights and only saw his landlord and landlady briefly before leaving for work each morning. There was no way Graham could return to his room this late on a Friday night. He toyed with the idea of contacting his sons but didn’t fancy the drive to London and wasn’t ready to explain that their mother was divorcing him. He assumed that Marion would eventually tell the twins about Carol and Mel and he didn’t want to face that conversation with them until he had to. It was in this frame of mind that Graham booked into a Travelodge for the weekend. He entered the room and dropped his bag on the floor. He turned on the television and grabbed a plastic beaker from the bathroom. He poured a large measure of the half bottle of whisky into the cup and knocked it down in one, ignoring the raw burning sensation in his throat. He was drinking to forget and within an hour was spark out fully clothed on the bed, the whisky having done its job.

*****

Val felt like a zombie while taking the tablets. The doctor had prescribed tranquilisers and she’d used them as a crutch since the death of Ron and Ken. They didn’t assuage the guilt but did stop her from bursting into tears randomly, whether in public or in private. She’d been off work sick. They said it was depression but Val knew that her guilt was to blame for everything she felt except for the grief. Mostly she couldn’t tell the difference from the grief and the guilt, knowing that they both hurt like hell. She’d taken Ron for granted and missed him so much. She wondered how she could ever have fancied that idiot Ken. His death had been shocking but nothing to compare with how she’d felt when the policeman had told her about Ron. It was all her fault and she knew that if she hadn’t slept with Ken, Ron would still be alive and they could work out their problems. She would never have the opportunity to make things up to Ron now and that was something else to feel bad about. Val knew that she couldn’t carry on with her life like this. She had to do something to make herself feel useful again. She hadn’t taken the tablets for two days and the fuzziness was beginning to fade. The walls were closing in on her and she felt the urge to get out of the house.

Black clouds were rushing across the sky as if trying to win a race and the wind was whipping up the few leaves left from autumn into a frenzy. Val didn’t notice as she walked to the bus stop, lost in her own dark thoughts. She didn’t have long to wait and was soon sitting in the warm bus, the atmosphere muggy and dank from the moist air and other passengers. Arriving in town the rain had just started and Val stood on the pavement ignoring the people rushing around her and wondering what she should do. Shaking herself aware she decided to go into the Mall. At least she’d be dry wandering around aimlessly in there.

Two hours later she’d bought a scarf and gloves that she didn’t really need, a hat for Libby and a new phone cover for Carl. She made her way up the escalator to browse in Debenhams. Looking at nothing in particular on the escalator going down she saw a face she recognised.

It was the mother of Claire, the girl who’d died with Ron and she was sobbing. They’d hadn’t met before, but Val recognized her face from the Memorial Service.

‘Hello,’ she called. ‘Hello.’ The people on the down escalator turned to stare at Val but Claire’s mother kept facing forward, too absorbed in her own grief thought Val. She hurried to the top of the escalator then ran back and made her way quickly down the other, her eyes following Marion all the while. She quickly caught up with her and tapped Marion on the shoulder. Marion turned, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Val could see how upset she was and started crying herself.

‘I’m Val,’ she said between the tears. ‘Ron’s wife.’ Marion’s expression changed from confused to sympathetic and Val saw the effort it took for her to try and control herself.

Val took a breath and fought to control her own emotions. To say it had been heart breaking to lose her own husband was an understatement, but she couldn’t imagine life without Carl or Libby. It was against all the laws of nature for parents to outlive their children yet this woman had lost a child and Val’s heart went out to her, and for a moment she was able to put her own feelings to the back of her mind.

‘Shall we go for a coffee?’ Marion nodded silently and Val led them to the coffee shop on the next corner.

Now on a mission, Val grabbed a booth in the corner that had just been vacated. It gave them a bit of privacy and they could also people watch the shoppers if they wanted.  The waitress took their order and Marion composed herself.

‘I’m so embarrassed. I’ve learnt to control myself at home, but everything about London reminds me of Claire and the boys.’ She explained that the twins had invited her down for the weekend.

‘I told them their father’s working away and can’t get home this weekend.’

‘I see,’ said Val. It was obvious by her tone that Marion had lied to her sons and Val wondered why. She didn’t have to wait long.

‘I threw Graham out,’ said Marion and Val nodded encouragement.

‘I’ve known for years that he had another life and family but was willing to put up with it.’ The waitress came with the drinks and Val tried her best not to look shocked. Marion didn’t look like the type who would put up with nonsense from anyone, never mind her husband. It just goes to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover she thought.