Take a Look At Me Now Page 6

  As soon as the lunchtime rush was over, Richard rounded up the day’s newspapers. He made himself a coffee and sat in a corner, scanning the headlines. It was the picture that first caught his eye.

  ‘Richard, can I talk to you about tomorrow’s menu?’ Hazel popped out from the kitchen.

  ‘Later,’ he said, without lifting his head.

  ‘That’s what you said an hour ago,’ the chef muttered, annoyed at his curtness. ‘I need to ring the suppliers.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, just do it yourself.’ He banged his cup down and glared at Hazel, his mind still on the photograph he’d just seen. ‘Am I not entitled to a break the same as the rest of you?’ She scurried away and Richard felt guilty. Hazel was the best; he should have held his tongue. Now he’d have Maggie blathering on about upsetting the staff, on top of everything else.

  He read the headline again. WOMAN DROWNS TRYING TO SAVE SON. Richard never knew she had a child. A little boy, apparently. Three or thereabouts, none of the papers seemed to agree. He tried to think back to when he’d first met her. It was over four years ago. She’d never said anything to him about being pregnant, although come to think of it she had disappeared for months shortly afterwards and never seemed to want to say much about it. He read all the papers but learned nothing new after the first one.

  ‘OK, mate?’ Tom Dalton chucked his keys on the table and grabbed a stool.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Just on the way in to studio. What’s up?’

  The whole thing hit Richard all of a sudden. His shoulders slumped.

  ‘Hey, you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, just read something. You remember Alison – Ali, that girl I used to date?’

  ‘Vaguely, why?’

  He shoved the paper in Tom’s direction to show him the picture. ‘She drowned,’ he said, unnecessarily since his mate had clearly seen the headline.

  ‘Fuck, how did it happen?’

  Richard filled him in.

  ‘Hey, Luce, any chance of a black coffee?’ Tom called as he took off his jacket.

  ‘Coming up.’

  ‘So, what’s the story? I mean, you hadn’t seen her for years, had you?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘What exactly does that mean? I thought you’d given up everything except the occasional one-night stand once you and Daisy got engaged?’

  ‘I had.’

  ‘So?’ Tom took the cup from Lucy, who smiled sweetly at him and gave Richard a dour look.

  ‘We sort of . . . kept in touch.’

  ‘What d’ya mean, you texted her once a week or shagged her occasionally?’

  ‘Both.’ Richard glanced around nervously. He needed to tell someone. ‘She was a hooker.’

  ‘Would you ever fuck off!’

  ‘I’m serious.’ Under other circumstances, it would have been worth it to see the look on Tom’s face. ‘And do you know something, I was really into her.’

  ‘Hang on, not so fast.’ Tom tried to piece it all together. ‘So, let me get this straight.’ He looked at her picture again. ‘You were screwing her?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘And paying for the privilege?’

  Richard nodded.

  ‘I don’t believe it. You’re having me on.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘But, fuck it, Richard, you don’t need to pay for sex. Of all of us, you’re the one most likely to have it handed to you on a plate.’ Tom scratched his head. ‘And you’re engaged to a model. What the fuck’s going on there?’

  ‘Meet me next door for a pint in an hour.’ Richard glanced at his watch. ‘This place is doing my head in all of a sudden.’

  ‘I’m on at seven. It’ll have to be quick.’ Tom wanted to hear more.

  ‘Make it half an hour then.’

  ‘No, gimme an hour like you said. I’ll tear into work and get things started.’ He checked his phone. ‘That way I’ll have time for two pints.’

  ‘OK.’ Both men got up together. Tom left with a casual ‘Stay cool,’ and Richard headed for the kitchen to make it up with Hazel. He served a few customers and wished he could get away to clear his head. A couple of regulars remarked to Maggie that the boss wasn’t his usual talkative self today and she wondered if it was perhaps time to bury the hatchet.

  Richard had the pints in and was reading it all again when Tom arrived back.

  ‘So, tell me.’ He swung his leg over a stool.

  ‘Let’s grab a table.’ Richard nodded towards another guy at the bar. ‘Keep it quiet.’

  They settled into a corner, as far away as they could get from the pumping disco beat.

  ‘There’s not much to tell, really.’ Richard took a slug of his pint. ‘It started about five years ago when I was with that ad agency – Moffats. I needed someone to take out to meet the directors of a major new account I was on the verge of poaching from Vision International. I’d just dumped Marlene, remember? The clients were a family company and were all taking their wives to this dinner.’ He thought about his days in the corporate world without a trace of nostalgia. ‘All the girls on the scene at the time were either too thick or too intense. A guy in the office mentioned this girl called Alison. Said she was just what I was looking for but that it’d cost me. Suggested I check her out on this website. I contacted her more out of curiosity than anything else.’ He laughed and took another swallow. ‘As you say, I didn’t need to pay for it.’

  ‘Where did you meet her?’

  ‘In a pub, an hour before meeting the clients,’ Richard remembered. ‘Don’t know what I’d have done if she was dog rough,’ he laughed nervously, ‘although from what the guy had told me I knew she’d be OK. In fact, she was more than OK.’ He took a swig of his pint. ‘She was gorgeous. I remember being intrigued by her. She wasn’t what you’d expect – hell, sure you met her, you know all this. She was so . . . I dunno, independent, I guess. Aloof, maybe.’ Richard could still see her now. ‘And she wasn’t looking for a “commitment”. How sexy is that, eh?’

  ‘The one word in the English language guaranteed to kill an erection in five.’ Tom grinned, sidetracked for a minute. He swallowed half his pint. ‘Anyway, how could she have been looking for anything except money? She was a bleedin’ prostitute.’

  ‘She was an escort, very high-class.’ Richard didn’t know why he felt the need to defend her.

  ‘So, what happened?’ Tom signalled the barman and indicated their glasses.

  ‘She came to the dinner with me. Everyone loved her. She was warm and funny. They all assumed she was my girlfriend.’

  ‘Did you have sex with her?’

  ‘Not that night, no.’

  ‘So you paid for a date and didn’t even get your leg over? Not like you at all.’ Tom laughed.

  ‘We did have sex, of course we did. But she did get jobs where all the guy wanted was a good-looking broad on his arm. Wealthy businessmen, that sort of thing.’

  ‘That’s what she told you.’ Tom clearly didn’t believe him.

  ‘No, honestly, she didn’t need to lie. In fact, that was one of the things I liked so much about the whole thing. There was no pretending, no putting on a show. It was all just . . .’ He shrugged. ‘Natural, I guess.’

  ‘What’s natural about paying for sex?’

  ‘What’s unnatural about it? It was honest, we weren’t fooling each other. No one got hurt. And I’ll tell you something for nothing.’ Richard played with his beer mat. ‘It was fun, it felt really exciting and it suited me.’

  ‘So how long did this go on for?’

  ‘A couple of months after I met her she went back home. Cork, I think, or Sligo. Can’t remember. Her aunt or someone was sick and she had to nurse her. I didn’t see her for, I dunno, months. Maybe a year even.’ Richard drained his glass and looked around, wanting an immediate replacement.

  ‘It’s on the way.’ Tom fished in his pocket for money.

  ‘Then she texted me to let me know she was back in town
and we sort of picked up where we left off.’

  ‘But at this point you’d met Daisy.’

  ‘Only barely, I think. Sure Daisy and I weren’t really an item for months. She was going out with that rugby player – Bob Gleeson or Glennon, remember? Anyway, I’d sort of missed Alison, you know.’ Richard shrugged, knowing his mate probably hadn’t a clue what he meant, judging by the look on his face.

  ‘How come?’ Tom paid for the drinks. He was intrigued. This all sounded way too complicated, even for Richard – the original ‘drama queen’, as he was christened at college.

  ‘She was different. Didn’t take herself seriously. We understood each other.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘Didn’t want a fucking ring after three dates.’ He laughed. ‘You’ve been there, don’t forget. Remember Brenda, the redhead? You said she stalked you for months. Practically had the ring bought after the first date, you told me.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’d say she could have bought herself a diamond or two.’ He indicated the newspaper. ‘With all the dosh you paid her.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Richard was remembering her face. ‘I didn’t really care about the money. I liked her, she was fun.’

  ‘And the sex?’

  ‘The sex was mind-blowing.’ Richard looked thoughtful, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘But I’ve done mind-blowing. I can’t explain it, really. The whole thing was just so . . . so easy. Refreshing.’ He grinned. ‘Not a word I’d normally use to describe a blow job.’

  ‘So, all this time and you never said anything. How come?’

  ‘Nothing to tell, really.’

  ‘Oh yes there was.’ Tom grinned. ‘And you always tell me things like that eventually. You can’t resist it, mate. You like being one step ahead of the rest of us.’

  ‘I kind of liked keeping it to myself.’ He flicked the mat and watched it fall to the floor. ‘As I said, it was exciting.’

  ‘But you had Daisy to take to all these functions. You didn’t need this Alison.’ Tom still didn’t fully understand the attraction.

  ‘Sure I’d long since left the corporate shite behind. It’s been a while since I had to entertain a client.’ Richard stared into his pint. ‘I don’t know why I kept it going.’ He thought for a second. ‘She was so different to Daisy.’ He grinned at his mate. ‘Daisy is high maintenance.’

  ‘Aren’t they all?’ Tom grinned back.

  ‘I suppose I got hooked.’ Richard was gulping his drink. ‘Hooked on a hooker. How’s that for a pun?’

  ‘So what now? Are you cut up about this?’ Tom indicated the pile of newspapers.

  ‘I dunno. It’s not as though I thought it was going anywhere or anything like that. I hadn’t seen that much of her in the last few months.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Fucking pressure of work and all that. It’s just . . . shock, I guess.’

  ‘Well, listen, bud, I gotta get to work.’ Tom checked his phone. ‘The producer’ll be going ape.’

  ‘Sure. I’ll hang on here for a while. Maybe have one for the road.’

  ‘Gimme a shout later if you fancy goin’ out, OK?’

  ‘Cheers.’ Richard raised his glass as his mate gathered up his bits and gave a backward wave. He was about to order another pint then changed his mind. He was getting maudlin. What the hell, he picked up the papers and headed out the door. He needed to get his head around this whole crazy thing and he wasn’t going to do that with ten pints inside him.

  9

  JAMES AND TAMSIN

  THE LAST FEW days had been a nightmare for James. His beloved Tamsin had disintegrated in front of his eyes. The psychologist who spent her days sorting out other people’s problems couldn’t seem to get to grips with her own. Every time James saw her he felt guilty. It was as if hearing about Alison’s death had opened up a whole new perspective on the double life he’d been leading. And now that it was over, now that it appeared he’d got away with it, he felt like a total jerk. And for the first time in years, he couldn’t discuss it with the one person with whom he shared absolutely everything. It was driving him nuts.

  Late one evening, after Tamsin had cried herself to sleep again, he rang her best friend, Maria.

  ‘I don’t know what to do. It seems like I can’t help her.’ He felt like crying himself.

  ‘James, give her time. She’s in mourning,’ Maria soothed. ‘Every time this happens it’s like another bereavement, the death of a child she already believed was alive and growing inside her.’

  ‘But we hadn’t even had it confirmed that she was pregnant.’ He felt he had to argue. Trying to get inside his wife’s head these past few days had been doing his own head in.

  ‘James, that’s a rational male talking. Believe me, it’s different for a woman. In her head she had a child the moment the egg was fertilized.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘I’m sorry to dump all this on you, it’s just that I feel so bloody useless.’

  ‘James, you are the closest couple I know. Hell, you have the ultimate happy-ever-after lifestyle.’ It was said without a trace of sarcasm. ‘Sometimes I hate the two of you for being so perfect.’

  ‘Yeah.’ It made him feel worse.

  ‘So, talk to her.’

  ‘I am, you know what we’re like. Everything gets thrashed out. It’s just, I’m not sure what’s going on in her head. She’s sort of withdrawn from me a bit and I’m finding it hard.’

  ‘Well, stop trying to be strong for her. Just . . . be yourself. Hell, I can’t give you any advice, James. You know what to do, what to say. You always have.’ She screamed at one of her kids. ‘So stop worrying,’ she came back to him. ‘You’ll both get through this, I haven’t the slightest doubt about it.’

  ‘Thanks, Maria. I guess I just needed to hear someone say that. You’re a pal.’

  ‘I’m meeting her tomorrow. I said I’d call round about lunchtime. She just needs lots of love and support right now. And to talk, and talk, and talk.’

  ‘I know. And as I said, we’re doing that.’ He was worn out and besides he felt useless tonight. ‘You know us, the ultimate self-help couple.’ He tried to inject a bit of life into his voice. ‘Listen, go off to your gang. I can hear them killing each other. And send my best to Dan. We’ll see you for a Chinese real soon, OK?’

  ‘Sure. Call me any time. Ta-ra.’

  ‘Bye. Thanks again.’ She was already yelling at her two-year-old son to get his head out of the oven. James smiled and felt slightly better.

  Next morning, he woke way before the alarm went off and turned over to reach for his wife. Her side of the bed was empty. It had been the same every morning recently. She almost collapsed with tiredness at night but then couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours.

  James hadn’t the energy to get up to be with her, the way he normally did. Today was Alison’s funeral. A bit of him wanted to go, just to pay his respects. But what could he say to her relations? ‘Hi, I’m James, I was one of her clients’ wouldn’t go down well, he suspected. He knew nothing about her family, didn’t even know if they knew the truth about her lifestyle.

  ‘Hi, darling, how are you feeling?’ he asked Tamsin a little while later.

  ‘Sad. I woke up crying.’

  ‘Come ’ere to me.’ He wrapped his arms around her and wished for the millionth time that he could take away her pain.

  ‘Come on,’ he urged her gently after a while. ‘I want you to sit down and watch some good oul breakfast TV while I make tea and toast.’

  ‘I always feel guilty watching daytime telly. It’s addictive.’

  ‘Doctor James’s orders.’ He led her into the sitting room and propped her up on the squashy couch. ‘Now, flick,’ he handed her the remote and ruffled her hair.

  As he made breakfast he watched her through the interconnecting doors. She looked so small and vulnerable in her polka-dot fluffy dressing gown and matching pyjamas that he’d bought her in Next. She meant everything in the world to him and he still couldn’t understand ho
w he’d cheated on her. Oh, he’d tried to justify it to himself many times. It wasn’t a real relationship, he argued in his head. Just sex.

  ‘There you go.’ He handed Tamsin a tray with freshly squeezed juice, ginger and lemon tea and brown wholegrain toast. He knew exactly what she liked, down to the organic marmalade he’d spread thinly on the bread, just as she did herself.

  ‘What’s on?’ He glanced at the TV.

  ‘Cellulite.’

  ‘Essential viewing, I would have thought, even if you don’t have a trace of orange peel anywhere on your body.’ He smiled and kissed her head. ‘Enjoy.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ She smiled at him sadly. ‘I know it’s all been about me in the last few days.’ She stroked his arm. ‘You look tired. I’m sorry I haven’t really been there for you.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘We need to talk about you, too, you know.’

  ‘Later. Let’s just concentrate on getting you right for the moment. That’s all that’s important to me.’

  ‘I love you, James.’ She had tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  ‘You’ll never have to.’ He crouched down beside her. ‘I love you too, darling. With all my heart. And I’m sorry for . . . everything.’

  ‘Please, don’t say that.’ She was crying openly now. ‘None of this is your fault. You’ve done everything possible to support me.’

  ‘Shush, we’re in this together.’ He held her close and stroked her hair and wished he could tell her.

  ‘James, are you worrying about something else?’ She pulled away from him as if seeing him properly for the first time in days.

  ‘No.’ The lie made him feel even more guilty. They were always completely honest with each other. Trust was a huge part of their relationship and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this to himself.

  It bothered him all day at work. He was edgy and everyone noticed.

  ‘Fancy a pint on the way home?’ Colin Johnson, one of the other architects asked casually around six o’clock.

  ‘Yeah, great.’ James immediately wondered if he could confide in him. Colin was a solid father-figure type who had always kept an eye on him, had been his mentor, in fact, since he’d joined the practice. But he knew he couldn’t do it to Tamsin. Confiding in someone else would be the ultimate betrayal. ‘Actually, no,’ he said quickly, not trusting himself. ‘I’d better get home.’