Crash, page 13
Dan sent a text hoping that the meeting would go well for Tom. I replied, asking him if he could possibly free himself from his family for one night at the weekend. I then sent a text to Fran, bargaining she might want to be in Leicester, and asked if she could possibly stay overnight with Tom on Saturday, if I went away. She replied within ten minutes, agreeing.
I showered and dressed quickly, uncertain what to wear for a meeting where the outcome had almost certainly been decided and how I looked would mean nothing. I settled on linen trousers and a white blouse, my hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and a cashmere cardigan settled casually across my shoulders.
The sun stroked the back of my neck as I laid out breakfast in the conservatory: fruit, pancakes and coffee, food that might help us to talk. Tom ate hungrily and without a word, leaning across his plate. His hair stood up unevenly and he wore his school uniform casually and confidently, his shirt out and his tie knotted low, as if this were just another school day. I hesitated, unsure how to say the words.
‘Perhaps the last day in uniform, Tom, at least for The Mount School.’
‘Thanks. You’re so positive.’
‘We need to talk about your options, that’s all.’
‘Dad will sort it, he always does.’
‘Not this time, you’ve seen how ill he is. He can’t make decisions right now. We’re on our own with this. We can think about what might be possible but in the end, I will decide. We’ll tell Carl what’s happened when we see him later and over the next few days I’ll come up with a plan.’
‘You’re sure The Mount won’t have me back?’
‘I’m afraid so, because it’s drugs and you were selling. And I think it’s not the first time.’
Tom flushed and stared out of the window. ‘It’s a crap school anyway.’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘I’ll just go to another one. A better one.’
‘I don’t think another school will take you, that’s the problem.’
‘So, get someone to teach me here at home, like I said.’ Tom’s eyes shone as he leaned across the table, his chin resting on his hands, satisfied with the simplicity of his argument.
‘When they operate, I’ll find out whether this cancer has spread. If it has, you must be out of the house for at least part of the day. I won’t be in a fit state to have tutors here and Dad will resist having strangers around.’
Tom shook his head. ‘I know I’ve been pissing about with all this school crap when you’ve got Dad and everything and all your problems, but I want to stay at home.’
‘Carl and I have been, to borrow your word, crap parents but you’re a child in this family and we still make the decisions. We can talk properly later but right now,’ I glanced at my watch, ‘we have to go and meet the governors.’
Tom and I were kept waiting for half an hour outside an oak door marked Boardroom. We could hear a murmur of voices and the scrape of chairs and plates. Occasionally there was a cough, some laughter, a chair pushed back against floorboards. Neither of us had ever been in this part of the school. We smiled at each other and touched a little, as much as boys of fifteen can allow their mothers to touch them. I reminded Tom that we had nothing to be afraid of because we knew it was over anyway. Privately, I wished that Tom didn’t have to listen to what would be said about him, not today.
Mr Harris opened the door and we were shown into a dark room, where sunlight from high windows was reflected on the surface of a heavy, polished table. There was a smell of coffee, the cups stacked on a trolley at the side, and a whiff of stale tobacco embedded in the clothing of some of those only just discernible around the perimeter of the table. Mr Harris pulled out two chairs for us, with an extravagant gesture of hospitality. As my eyes adjusted, I could see at least two reverends and one woman I thought I recognised from the school gates. The governors were introduced, and the Chair outlined the case against Tom. As she spoke, I tried to catch the eyes of those sitting in judgement, but they avoided me by writing notes or studying the titles of books that were ranked in strict colour formation across shelves that rose from floor to ceiling. Despite what I had said to Tom, I found that I held on to some hope but listening to her words I knew it was over, the meeting was a formality. I felt the disappointment like a weight in my stomach and glanced over at Tom, who looked as if he were trying not to cry. I watched the last moments of our shining little boy, who had rushed at life with joy and saw his eyes dull as he settled for the role of sullen teenager with a drug habit and a home background described in this room as ‘privileged but without adequate boundaries and role models.’
Tom was asked if he had anything to say and he shook his head. It was my turn. I hesitated. I could still plead, I could play the sick and death cards; both of them. They might change their minds. I hesitated, I paused too long.
‘Mrs Williams?’
I had to try. ‘We have a lot of illness in the family. I have cancer. His father is very ill. Tom needs stability. He should be in school. Things have been very hard for him at home.’
The chairperson looked around the table. ‘I am sorry to hear this. Do we need five minutes to discuss this new information?’ There were several nods of agreement and we were sent outside once again to the plastic chairs set against the wall on the other side of the door.
Tom’s eyes were bloodshot, and his skin pale. ‘You shouldn’t have said all that. You were begging. I don’t want you to beg them to have me back.’
‘I had to. It’s our best chance,’ I hissed. ‘God knows how I will find you another school after what I’ve just heard.’
We were shown back to our places. Tom leaned forward and rested his forehead on the table.
‘Sit up, Williams!’ Mr Harris barked. I sat up sharply, as did several others around the table, but Tom lifted his head slowly and slid back in his chair, legs wide apart, studying the end of his tie. He then lifted one buttock and farted. If there had been any chance of a reprieve, it was now lost.
‘Tom Williams.’ The chair of governors spoke as if delivering a death sentence. ‘You are expelled from this school. You are barred from the grounds and from the streets surrounding The Mount at the beginning and end of the day. If you are seen in the environs of the school we will report you to the police, on suspicion that you are selling drugs. You will have no contact with anyone, either staff or pupils. This is not a maintained school, you have no right of appeal. Our decision is final. As you leave the premises, you will hand back your locker key and library card. If you have any property at home belonging to the school, a parent or guardian must return it within three days. Thank you, Mrs Williams, for supporting Tom today. We wish you both well for the future.’
I couldn’t help but look back. At the school gates, Tom threw his blazer and tie onto the ground and disappeared. It made no sense, but I bent down to retrieve them and as I stood up, I turned around to face the school. It already seemed unfamiliar and distant, as if we had never belonged. The children’s voices, the bells, the shouts from lunchtime rugby practice, excluded us like the strangers we had already become.
Once at home, Tom stormed up to his bedroom and slammed the door. I wandered into the conservatory and through the open door, glimpsed the unexpected sight of Ella playing with Honey. I held my breath, seeing her height and powerful grace. Her dark hair swung around her tanned, bare shoulders and her breasts filled the top of her cotton sundress as she bent to stroke the dog. I put my palm flat against a pane of glass and pulled it back to see my hand imprinted there in sweat.
‘Mum,’ Ella called out, catching sight of me. ‘My consultant said I should take today off, when I told her what was happening. I’ve made some sandwiches. Let’s eat outside and you can tell me what the governors said.’
I carried a tray from the kitchen and we sat in the shade of the rose pergola, the branches now heavy with reddening hips.
Even before I sat down, I answered Ella’s questioning expression. ‘It’s what we thought, he’s been expelled. He didn’t behave well in the meeting.’
‘Only to be expected.’
‘Don’t be too hard on him. This is a particularly difficult time for you all, but he’s stuck here at home with us. It’s not just about our health. Things aren’t going well financially, for Carl and the rest of the world. I don’t know how permanent any of this is.’ I gestured at the house and garden. ‘If we do find another school for Tom, it’s going to be expensive.’
‘So I might lose my flat?’
‘That’s a real possibility.’
Ella finished her sandwich, her mouth too full to speak. I found I couldn’t swallow and passed mine in small chunks to Honey.
‘I caught something on the lunchtime news,’ she said. ‘All these young bankers were carrying boxes out of an office. They arrived at work this morning and were told to quit. Losing my flat is nothing, I’m well paid and can live on my salary but Fran is a different matter.’
‘I’ll warn her tomorrow when I ring her. She’s coming home at the weekend to be with Tom. I’m hoping to spend Saturday night in London with a friend.’
‘I’m sorry but I thought you didn’t have any friends,’ Ella teased. ‘Who is she?’
Struggling with my resolve to keep no more secrets, I lowered my eyes and fussed with Honey’s collar.
‘It’s a “he”,’ I said.
Seconds passed. ‘You’ve no idea,’ Ella said at last, ‘how much I’ve worried about how isolated you’d become, stuck here with Carl. I could never understand why you stayed with him. I might have known you could look after yourself. Well done, Mum! Why haven’t you ridden off together into the sunset?’
‘He’s married too. He’s perfect for me but he won’t ever leave his wife, or so he says. It seemed best that we both stayed married. If I’d been single, I’d have pressurised him to leave and I might have lost him. It’s worked for us up to now, but everything’s become so uncertain.’
I didn’t confess that I had always been afraid of leaving Carl, believing I would never be safe from his revenge. I didn’t say that I had persuaded myself to wait until his addiction made the decision for me. Ella might think these were excuses, which they were.
‘I thought you’d be shocked,’ I said.
‘Frankly it’s a relief. You need someone to love you, I mean apart from us. I won’t tell Fran… you can do that yourself. She might not be so understanding.’
‘I won’t tell Fran or Tom until I have to.’
The sun, now lower in the sky, cut through a gap in the tangle of branches on the pergola and Ella shielded her eyes, frowning at me from beneath her hand.
‘Have you any idea what you’ll do about Tom? Doesn’t the local authority have to find him a school place?’
‘After you’ve gone back to London I’ll ring them, but Dan, my lover, says that any school can claim to be full for his year group. They’re allowed to say no.’
Ella stood up and reached for my plate. ‘I’m really sorry but I have to leave first thing tomorrow morning. My shifts are awful this week, but I will be here for your surgery, that’s a promise. I’ll drop in on Carl on my way back to London. Mum, you look as though you need a rest. While Tom’s sulking, you should try and grab a few hours’ sleep. I’ll do the big sister thing, take him a sandwich, and see if he’ll talk to me. I might even ask him to show me whatever game he’s playing.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I am exhausted. I will go and lie down. Good luck with Grand Theft Auto.’
EIGHTEEN
WEDNESDAY 24TH SEPTEMBER
With Ella gone and Tom asleep, I sat in the conservatory to start a list of the things I still needed to buy for a hospital stay: a wash bag, some slippers, what else? I spoke to someone in Admissions from the local authority about a school place for Tom and she said they would send me a form. Dan sent a text checking whether he could call me and within minutes of my reply, my phone rang.
‘I can get away on Saturday. Just so happens there’s a suitable conference in London.’ I thought he sounded flat, unexcited.
‘Do you want to go? You don’t sound as if you do.’
‘I felt awful about lying,’ he said. ‘It seemed like a new level of betrayal.’
Normally I would have agreed, told him it didn’t matter, said we should forget all about it. How often had I done that? My birthday, Valentine’s Day, all the important days for couples. Whatever Sarah wanted had to take priority.
‘It’s only a matter of degree, Dan. You won’t be where they think you are for one night, instead of a few hours. Let’s spend a night away like an ordinary couple. We don’t know how things are going to be… afterwards.’
I waited, counting. Dan was silent for several seconds. Had I pushed him too far?
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I needed to hear that you were confident, that’s all. We’ll do this. Now, tell me what the decision was about Tom?’
Tom refused to come out of his room, so I left him sandwiches in the kitchen, with Honey’s lead next to them, hoping he’d take the hint about her walk. On my way to visit Carl, I stopped at an out-of-town shopping centre to buy hospital supplies and some GCSE course books for Tom. Feeling embarrassed and a little ridiculous, I slid into a shop selling women’s underwear and found a set with a matching camisole, one that covered more than it revealed. As I fingered the pretty, rather than sexy, lace on the French knickers, my phone rang. I glanced at the contact name and pushed the phone deep into my bag, allowing it to ring on, unanswered. Of course, it was Oliver, his intrusion perfectly timed, as always. I passed the items across the counter to the ridiculously young man at the till, scrunching the garments into my fist as if I could hide them from everyone who might be watching.
At The Haven, there was a problem, but the receptionist was able to tell me little except that nurses were with Carl and I should wait in the foyer. Instead, I walked in the grounds and found a bench in a courtyard garden where the afternoon’s watering pattered onto herbaceous borders filled with sedums and acers, already turning the brick-red of autumn. I had hoped to reassure Carl that his mother knew how ill he was, that she might still visit, but perhaps it was too late.
My phone rang again and I glanced at the screen. This time, I had to answer.
‘What is it, Oliver? I’m at the hospital, waiting to see Carl. He’s taken a turn for the worse.’
‘Yeah okay, I tried to speak to him earlier but they wouldn’t let him take my call. I contacted the school, heard the news, so that’s one less business expense.’
‘You rang the school…?’
‘Perfectly entitled, considering I pay the fees.’
‘The business pays the fees, you’re just the broker. What do you want? I might be called away at any minute.’
‘Of course, wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your husband’s side, not a loyal wife like you. Just do one thing for me, Alice, make sure I have access to Carl. You know what’s best… for both of us.’
Oliver rang off and I slipped my mobile into my pocket. In the quiet, empty courtyard, I remembered the first time I met Oliver, in the university library. Carl was with me, as he was for most of our first year before we met Euan. His nose was running, and his cheeks were pinched with cold, so he waited for me beside the ancient radiators in the reading room, while I searched for journals in the stacks.
Carl was talking to someone, a tall, heavily built boy with tousled, curly hair. I watched them closely as I checked out my books. I’d never seen Carl speak to anyone independently, other than those paid to teach or care for him.
The stranger pressed a large hand onto Carl’s shoulder, but as I approached, the heavy fingers left Carl’s shoulder to shake mine. Carl’s body shifted as if a weight had been lifted from him.
‘Hi, name’s Oliver but most people call me Olly. Can’t believe that old Williams is here too.’
Olly punched Carl on the upper arm and Carl steadied himself against the radiator, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
‘Alice, Olly was at school with me,’ Carl stammered.
This was all that mattered. It wasn’t important that Oliver had ignored Carl at school and that they had nothing in common; they were bonded through finding themselves in the wasteland of the Midlands and pretending to each other this was where they had intended to be all along, instead of at Oxford and Cambridge, like the rest of their year group. I expected Oliver to quickly forget about us but once we were settled in the flat with Euan, he couldn’t stay away. Whether it was because he smelt food or money, he always tried to be with us. Euan and Carl ignored him, as they ignored me and too often, I was left alone to talk to Oliver. He was studying Economics, read the Financial Times, and played rugby for the university. What was there for us to talk about? He seemed too big for our flat, sprawled in an armchair with his legs apart, still smelling of the pitch and the changing rooms. Sometimes he helped me clear up, but I didn’t like to be so close to him in our tiny kitchen. Once, he wrapped a tea towel around my neck, pulled me towards him and kissed me, with Carl and Euan in the next room. I put both palms on his chest and pushed him away, leaving him to dry the plates. When I thought it was safe, I left the room I shared with Carl to lock the front door and put out the lights, but he was still there, asleep in an armchair. I think he was waiting for them to notice him, as they sometimes did, but only when he was of use. Looking back, I can see Oliver must have been lonely, and I almost feel sorry for him but I have never trusted him. For one thing, he has never forgotten about that kiss.
Our wedding day was the only time I have ever felt pleased to see Oliver. Beatrice offered to pay for everything, since my father was dead and my mother still grieving. Her decision not to attend was unforgivable but suited us all. Whatever her protestations about the boredom of the event, I suspect she found it intolerable that Carl had repeated her single mistake by having a child, and not by choice.
