Half-truths & White Lies (16 page)

I quickly learned that you can't live in the same house
as a young child without getting involved. Andrea was
fifteen months old and mobile; a handful. For the first
couple of weeks, I felt that Laura and I were pussyfooting
round each other. We were overly polite and
constantly apologized as we got under each other's feet
or passed each other in the narrow hall. Laura was
excessively tidy and took a great deal of care to put
everything back exactly where she had found it. Tom
had trained her well.

I noticed how she gathered her dressing gown around
her tightly when she was wearing night clothes so that
they were completely covered, even though she was
wearing far more than she ever did by day. The door to
the spare room was always firmly closed, although Laura
fretted that she wouldn't be able to hear Andrea in the
room on the opposite side of the landing. I knew it was
being alone with me that she was uncomfortable with,
so I steered conversation towards Tom and the baby.

Despite the awkwardness, I liked the feeling of life in
the house. Although I had wanted my own space, there
had been a considerable difference between the idea
and the reality. I had imagined a house where a stream
of people would pop in for coffees, but I ended up
working late and going out more than ever to avoid the
loneliness. I hated the way my footsteps echoed in the
empty, sterile rooms. Even if we didn't talk as much as
we used to, I liked the sound of the clicking and
whirring of the sewing machine as Laura worked. I liked
the sound of her laughter as we watched
The Two Ronnies
on television. With Tom gone, we listened to very little
in the way of music. I liked coming home to the smell
of cooking and a shout of, 'The kettle's on. Do you fancy
a cuppa?' I even liked the sight of washing on the line
and the pram in the hall. These were all the things that
made the difference between a house and a home. It
reminded me of my parents' relationship. Not quite
open, rarely honest, but always the consideration,
always the cheerful front.

When I woke in the night to the sound of crying, I
would listen for Laura's footsteps and the small
comforting sounds she made. If Andrea didn't calm
down, I would hear Laura move downstairs and put the
kettle on. Only when they settled did I allow myself to
go back to sleep. The first time that Laura didn't get up
when Andrea cried, I wasn't sure what to do. I listened
at Laura's door and thought I could just make out heavy
breathing and the very occasional snore. I tried putting
a dummy in Andrea's mouth, but I knew that Laura was
not keen for her to get too used to it. I talked quietly to
the baby and put one hand on her stomach, patting.
When that didn't work, I picked her up and slung her
over one shoulder as I had seen Tom do, and sang the
first childhood song I could remember, 'Row, row, row
your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily,
merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.' Laura was delighted
that Andrea had slept through the night for the first
time since the beginning of their stay, but was insistent
that she had not slept well herself.

My secret was discovered a few nights later when
Laura got up to go to the bathroom and found me
sitting in the box room singing to Andrea. I heard a
sharp intake of breath behind me and turned round to
find Laura standing in the doorway in the half-light, her
dressing gown hanging loosely, exposing a pair of
spotted pyjamas.

'Shall I take her?' she asked.

'It's all right. I haven't dropped her once yet.'

'I didn't hear her,' she whispered, more herself,
'but I was woken by a strange noise. Any idea what it
was?'

I carried on singing, 'Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.'

'That's it! Have you been up long?'

'Half an hour or so.'

'I'll take her now, shall I?' She held out her arms this
time.

'We're getting along just fine.'

'I can see that. I'm just worried that you're in court
tomorrow and you might need your wits about you.'

'Hush, woman. You'll wake her. It's hardly worth my
while going back to bed now. Why don't you try to get
another hour or so?'

'I'm fine. At least let me make you some breakfast.'

'It's a deal.'

'You know,' Laura said, sitting on a spare chair, 'you're
very good with her.'

'I've been practising these last few nights.'

'You've been getting up?' She was genuinely surprised.

'I'm a bit of an insomniac,' I lied. Instead, it seemed
that I was awake as soon as Andrea was, in tune with
every noise she made.

'And there's me thinking she was sleeping better.'
Laura laughed, propping her head up with one hand.
'Oh, God! This is exhausting.'

'Why don't you go back to bed?'

She shrugged my comment away. 'Maybe I should
have her in with me. Then she might not wake you.'

'I'm enjoying it!' I insisted. 'The whole point of you
staying was so that I could help out and you wouldn't
be left to do everything yourself.'

'It was, wasn't it?' Her shoulders were limp and her
feet pointed unselfconsciously inwards, strangely
childlike.

'Bed!' I commanded.

'You're sure?' She yawned, looking at Andrea,
concerned.

'When I was fifteen, I was regularly trusted with a
neighbour's baby and I even got paid for it, if I remember
rightly. Now, if I had been those parents, I wouldn't
have trusted me, but that's not the point.' Then, without
thinking I asked, 'Are you going to get her christened?'

'We haven't made a decision yet.' Laura yawned. 'I
know Tom's mother would like us to. At this rate Andrea
will be in school before we make our minds up.'

'If you do, I thought I might qualify for the role of
godfather.'

At that moment, Laura raised her hand to her mouth
and quashed a small noise. 'Excuse me.' She made her
other hand into a stop sign. 'Hiccups. Drink of water.'
She pointed to the bathroom and disappeared.

Tom returned buzzing with stories of life on the road
and my two favourite girls returned to the flat above the
launderette. The only thing that dampened Tom's
enthusiasm was the fact that Andrea seemed to have forgotten
him. What had turned into five weeks was a long
time for a small child. Instead of 'Andrea's Song', the
only thing that would settle her was 'Row, row, row your
boat'.

'Couldn't you have thought of anything else? Maybe
something with more than two lines?' he complained in
Laura's direction.

'That was Pete's doing.'

'Pete?'

'I did a little of the night duty,' I admitted. 'It was the
first song I could remember from my days as a choir
boy.'

'A choir boy? Now I know you're kidding me.'

I pretended to be offended. 'I'll take that as an insult.'
'Well, you're banned from singing to my baby from
now on.' He held her away from me protectively. 'I can't
have it that every time I go away she takes ages to get
used to my voice again.'

'Every time?' Laura raised her eyebrows, although her
mood was still jovial, picking up on what she assumed
was a throwaway comment.

'Too right,' said Tom, concentrating on Andrea, and I
watched Laura turn away to regain her composure.

'So,' she asked when she turned back, deadly serious,
'will you be staying for long?'

For some time, I had noticed that they seemed to be
storing up their most serious conversations for when I
was with them. Although I couldn't call them
arguments, I felt I was mediating some fairly weighty
negotiations. Of course, I had no idea how things
were when I wasn't there. I pretended to deliberately
misunderstand.

'No, I think I'll be off now.' I bent to kiss Andrea's
forehead. 'There's my girl. Don't you go growing too
much before I see you next time.'

'Oh, you don't have to go yet!' Laura stood, physically
placing herself between me and the door.

'Early start tomorrow,' I explained. 'It's going to be
strange. I'm going to miss that little one. The house will
feel empty.'

'Thanks for taking care of things.' Tom smiled. 'I
wouldn't have felt happy going otherwise.' Behind him,
I saw Laura bristle. 'Couldn't have done it without you.'

'I hope it was worth it,' I replied.

'Oh, it was worth it all right.' He winked and moved
away from the door to shield the baby from the draught.

'See you soon, Laura,' I said. 'Pop round any time.'

'Thanks, Pete.' Safe in the confines of her own home,
she was comfortable enough to kiss me on the cheek.

'Talk to him if you're unhappy,' I added quietly.

'I was going to when you so rudely interrupted,' she
joked. 'I know! I shouldn't do it when you're there.'

'It's not fair on either of us. I'm beginning to feel as if
I'm expected to take sides.'

'I want him to do well. It's not just being left on my
own with Andrea. It's just . . . well, you know I've never
been any good on my own.' There was a wobble in the
corners of her mouth when she smiled. 'I thought
things might change when we got married. Or at least I
thought that I might feel differently . . .' She put one
finger to her lips, hushing me or hushing herself, and
closed the door.

I wanted to say, Enjoy him while he's here. Don't
spend your time being angry. I wanted to say that she
had known who he was when she married him. I
wanted to tell her that if she wanted the boring,
stay-at-home alternative she should have picked me. It
was a good job she closed the door. I might have
been tempted to tell her that she never needed to be
alone.

It wasn't long before Tom was under pressure to tour
again. Record sales had been boosted by the live dates,
but the single had narrowly failed to reach the all-important
top forty. The feedback was that it was a
respectable start, but they had failed to capture the
imagination of their audience. The record company
wanted more live dates, a follow-up single and only
then would they agree to the album. Tom was so
keen to secure the album release that he would have
agreed to any terms. After hearing Tom strumming it
softly to himself, the single that they wanted was
'Andrea's Song'. He was strongly against this. Not only
was it not a Spearheads' track; it was personal and had
no place on the album.

'I'm losing any control I ever had,' Tom confided in
me. 'They've got no interest in what we're about. They
just want to see the money roll in. And I haven't seen a
penny yet. It's not as if I can even offer a carrot to Laura
to keep her happy.'

A second set of dates was scheduled and Tom tried to
piece together money for the rent while he was away by
working extra hours for his landlord at some of his
other properties. The results were so good that there was
talk about a further rent reduction in return for a certain
number of hours' labour. 'Maybe he'll pay us to live
here before long,' Tom joked.

'Which is great,' Laura told me unhappily as we
shared a cheap bottle of plonk at the flat, 'unless you
need cash to buy some of the luxuries of life like food
and nappies. This might have worked when we were
going out, but we're married and we have a baby. We
never see each other. When he's here, he's either working
or rehearsing. Or I'm so tired that if he offers to take
Andrea for a while, I just try to catch up on some sleep.
I don't want to feel as if I'm nagging all the time, but
that's just the way it is at the moment.'

'Have you thought about going to live with your
mother for a while?' I asked.

'Now, there's another thing.' She took a sip from her
glass. 'She's been so unreasonable and rude about Tom
that I'd feel I was betraying him. But there she is, all on
her own in that big house. She's still getting over Dad,
and Faye hasn't been home to see her. And here we are,
cooped up in this flat that we really can't afford. But
she's going to say: "I told you so. I knew that you'd have
to come crawling back sooner or later with your tail
between your legs . . ." '

'That's not bad as impressions go.'

'Years of practice. But the point is, she won't be able
to resist it, because that's just the way she is. And I could
probably cope, but Tom will see it as yet another insult
aimed in his direction.'

'What about Tom's mother?'

'She's wonderful. Would do anything for us. But
again, Tom wants to stand on his own two feet and not
keep running home as soon as the going gets tough. I
think it's called male pride.'

'There's always the garage. She'd never notice you
were there.'

'Do you think he's ever going to make any money
from the music?' she fired at me suddenly, as serious as
I had ever seen her.

'I think that he just needs one lucky break.'

'One lucky break,' she mused. 'Is that the same lucky
break that I would need to become a model, or maybe
an actress?'

'He's incredibly talented.'

'I've never doubted that for one moment. And I know
how committed he is. But it's going to destroy him if it
doesn't work out.'

'I know,' I agreed, nodding.

'And in the meanwhile, it's destroying us,' she said
bitterly, shocking me with her honesty.

'Don't say that.'

'Why?' She was adamant. 'I'm the one who has to be
realistic.'

'Because if it doesn't work out, he's going to need you
to help him pick up the pieces. It's hard to give up on
your dreams.' I looked her in the eyes. 'You can't let
them go without a fight.'

'But you didn't fight, did you?' Inappropriate though
it was, it was the first time that she had ever really
acknowledged that I had feelings for her. 'Wasn't I worth
it?'

'That's the drink talking.' I didn't want to reply.

'Well? Wasn't I?' Laura demanded.

'You know what you mean to me,' I muttered, trying
to put my feelings to one side.

'I never knew exactly how you felt.' She put one hand
over mine. 'Because you never once said.'

I looked at the table in front of us. 'I saw the way that
you looked at him, and I knew I didn't stand a chance.
And you told me that you knew you had made the right
decision.'

'If that was true' – her eyes brimmed over – 'then tell
me why it was so difficult?'

'Don't do this,' I said, getting up, not knowing how to
react and deciding that the only rational thing to do was
leave. 'It's taken a long time for me to think of you as
just a friend. Don't spoil it now.'