point in the distance.
“Now, my sweets, it really is beyond my bedtime. Tom, it’s been a pleasure to meet you and we’ll see you both very soon indeed.”
As she walked away, brushing past the large potted aspidistra, Tom turned to Amy. She stood, looking at the floor and anxiously fingering the fabric on her outfit. She knew that she was in trouble and looked up at Tom with a watery smile.
“You’re in so much shit, lady,” he said before walking off.
TEN
Tom had stormed through the front door and was already in the kitchen by the time Amy closed it.
After the tense and silent ride home, Amy knew that she was about to take a roasting. “Before you start shouting at me…” she began her defence, “I’m sorry that all of that just happened. But will you at least hear me out?”
Tom’s ongoing silence indicated a willingness to listen. He stood at the far end of the kitchen, leaning against the counter top, his arms angrily folded.
Having been granted a possible audience, Amy now had to find something to say. Having pleaded for clemency, she now had to construct a case and make it – convincingly.
“Well,” she started hesitantly, “it’s, well, it’s…”
“Is that it?” was Tom’s rather unimpressed response.
“No! Look…”
Tom turned his back and started to make a hot drink.
Amy hesitated, wondering what this gesture meant.
“Go on,” he managed brusquely.
Amy knew that she hadn’t got off to a flier. “I had no idea Janet was going to tell you about… about… about Sam.”
Tom turned to shoot a look at her that conveyed both irritation and curiosity.
“I saw him a couple of times, that’s all,” she continued. “When Janet saw me with him at the gym, I had to think of something quickly. So I just said that things between you and me were a bit rocky, but that Sam and I were just friends. That you didn’t mind and, er, that you had female friends, too.”
Tom turned around in disbelief. “You told her we had an open relationship?” He shook his head and looked to the ceiling. “No wonder she spent the night hitting on me.”
In an attempt to clarify matters, Amy had seemingly only succeeded in making things worse. “Look, I know I should’ve told you all of that,” she said as a matter of understatement. “But because it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, I kind of forgot about it. Then, when I did remember, I thought, ‘What’s the point in telling him?’ I mean, it’s not like you were ever going to find out.”
“But I did,” said Tom, deadpan.
“Yes, but I thought that, because it wasn’t important, because none of this is real, there was no point in me saying anything. I didn’t think it mattered. I just thought it was meaningless. Honest.”
Tom remained still, his chest pulsating in and out as he tried to breathe easily. “Meaningless?” he said with more than a wisp of irritation. “What was meaningless? The other man? The wedding? The fact that you’ve been singing my praises to your family? That stuff, you mean?” He spat the words with rancor.
“Look,” said Amy, feeling defensive. “You knew I was going to tell my parents that you were my boyfriend. That’s how this whole thing started. You help me out with my bloody mother and I make your workmates think that you’re straight. If we…”
“I don’t need a re-cap on how this started, Amy,” interrupted Tom, who was now pacing around the room, channeling his anger. “I told everyone at work that you were my girlfriend and that was fine. If they really, really needed to see you, I knew that I could produce you. You were a passive partner. You were supposed to tell your family that you’d met a guy and started dating, but that it was early days. And then, in time, maybe there would be the odd meet – if necessary. You weren’t supposed to be on the phone, making me out to be something I’m not and can never be.” He stood in front of her, his arms
“Now, my sweets, it really is beyond my bedtime. Tom, it’s been a pleasure to meet you and we’ll see you both very soon indeed.”
As she walked away, brushing past the large potted aspidistra, Tom turned to Amy. She stood, looking at the floor and anxiously fingering the fabric on her outfit. She knew that she was in trouble and looked up at Tom with a watery smile.
“You’re in so much shit, lady,” he said before walking off.
TEN
Tom had stormed through the front door and was already in the kitchen by the time Amy closed it.
After the tense and silent ride home, Amy knew that she was about to take a roasting. “Before you start shouting at me…” she began her defence, “I’m sorry that all of that just happened. But will you at least hear me out?”
Tom’s ongoing silence indicated a willingness to listen. He stood at the far end of the kitchen, leaning against the counter top, his arms angrily folded.
Having been granted a possible audience, Amy now had to find something to say. Having pleaded for clemency, she now had to construct a case and make it – convincingly.
“Well,” she started hesitantly, “it’s, well, it’s…”
“Is that it?” was Tom’s rather unimpressed response.
“No! Look…”
Tom turned his back and started to make a hot drink.
Amy hesitated, wondering what this gesture meant.
“Go on,” he managed brusquely.
Amy knew that she hadn’t got off to a flier. “I had no idea Janet was going to tell you about… about… about Sam.”
Tom turned to shoot a look at her that conveyed both irritation and curiosity.
“I saw him a couple of times, that’s all,” she continued. “When Janet saw me with him at the gym, I had to think of something quickly. So I just said that things between you and me were a bit rocky, but that Sam and I were just friends. That you didn’t mind and, er, that you had female friends, too.”
Tom turned around in disbelief. “You told her we had an open relationship?” He shook his head and looked to the ceiling. “No wonder she spent the night hitting on me.”
In an attempt to clarify matters, Amy had seemingly only succeeded in making things worse. “Look, I know I should’ve told you all of that,” she said as a matter of understatement. “But because it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, I kind of forgot about it. Then, when I did remember, I thought, ‘What’s the point in telling him?’ I mean, it’s not like you were ever going to find out.”
“But I did,” said Tom, deadpan.
“Yes, but I thought that, because it wasn’t important, because none of this is real, there was no point in me saying anything. I didn’t think it mattered. I just thought it was meaningless. Honest.”
Tom remained still, his chest pulsating in and out as he tried to breathe easily. “Meaningless?” he said with more than a wisp of irritation. “What was meaningless? The other man? The wedding? The fact that you’ve been singing my praises to your family? That stuff, you mean?” He spat the words with rancor.
“Look,” said Amy, feeling defensive. “You knew I was going to tell my parents that you were my boyfriend. That’s how this whole thing started. You help me out with my bloody mother and I make your workmates think that you’re straight. If we…”
“I don’t need a re-cap on how this started, Amy,” interrupted Tom, who was now pacing around the room, channeling his anger. “I told everyone at work that you were my girlfriend and that was fine. If they really, really needed to see you, I knew that I could produce you. You were a passive partner. You were supposed to tell your family that you’d met a guy and started dating, but that it was early days. And then, in time, maybe there would be the odd meet – if necessary. You weren’t supposed to be on the phone, making me out to be something I’m not and can never be.” He stood in front of her, his arms
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