Living A Lie

Molly was standing motionless by the kitchen table, newspaper in hand, when James walked in. "What's up?" he asked.  She handed over the newspaper. He sat down at the table and spread it out in front of him.  Feeling numb, Molly went to the sink and filled the kettle. 

The past came floating back; the police informing her Paul had died, killed in a road accident; Gemma's tears and her own hysteria; the emotional visit to the funeral parlour to see Paul laid out in his coffin; and finally, his coffin being swallowed up by the cold earth, on that most awful day. She remembered the surreal reality of life without him, which carried on day after dreary day, although in actual fact it was no life at all. Sean Williams? She hated him!

James read out loud, his eyes following the words on the page.

"Local biker, Sean Williams, whose case of causing death by dangerous driving goes to Court on the 16th January, broke his bail conditions by causing an affray in the car park of the 'Red Dragon' pub on Friday night. He fought with two men, causing actual bodily harm to one and grievous bodily harm to the other. He is now in custody, awaiting trial."

"The very thought of him turns my stomach" said Molly as she took the mugs from the cupboard and reached for the teapot.  "He's a nasty piece of work" said James as he closed the paper. "The sooner he's behind bars the better."

Molly poured the tea and sat down opposite him.

"You are going to Court aren't you? I couldn't face it myself."

"Yes, of course. Perhaps Gemma will come with me" James replied.

He looked seriously at Molly.

"This will come to an end eventually and then we can put it behind us. Don't let this spoil Christmas, Molly, although I know it won't be easy."

She closed her eyes and said on a sigh, "I'll try."

For two whole weeks she had forgotten about Sean Williams and even thoughts of Paul on the odd day or two, but now the anguish would begin all over again.

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By mid December, Molly's Christmas preparations were well underway. After much thought, she'd bought a pair of gold cuff links for James, engraved with his initials and a very smart white shirt. His favourite writer was Andy McNabb, so she'd also bought several of his books and a lovely soft navy blue sweater she'd found in Harrods.

Together they decorated the house for Christmas. James brought his collection of Christmas ornaments down from the loft. This included several sets of battery operated candles, which were placed in strategic places around the house. Two sets going on the dining room table, where they planned to eat their meals during the Christmas holiday.

Molly bought an exquisite red table-cloth, embroidered with gold thread. The colour being a near match to the red velvet curtains hanging at the windows. A pretty wreath of holly, decorated with red and tartan ribbons, adorned the front door to welcome any visitors and a real fir tree was delivered and set up in the lounge in the large bay window.

Decorating the tree was difficult, as it almost brushed the high ceiling. James had to bring a ladder in from the garage to reach the top, where Molly's own Christmas fairy was placed at James's suggestion, although 'she' had seen better days. Silver tinsel sparkled amongst the branches and four sets of lights, of plain white, winked on and off at intervals. Coloured baubles of purple and gold were hung on the branches along with miniature wooden figures, drums and rocking horses.

It was Christmas Eve and Molly was in her bedroom getting ready for the evening as a few friends and neighbours were coming for drinks. Tonight, she was wearing a long black silk skirt and a long sleeved red top. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. Her hair shone and her face glowed, due to new make up. It was obvious she'd gained a little weight and the gaunt face she'd seen so often in the mirror had disappeared.

As she applied blusher to her cheeks, there was a knock on the door.

James called out, "Are you decent?"

Molly laughed. "Yes, come in."

James walked into the room smiling.

"You look very smart" he said.

"Thank you" she replied "so do you".

He held out a small parcel.

"For you. I thought you might like to wear them this evening."

"Is it my Christmas present?" she asked, but James declined to answer.

The parcel contained a blue velvet box, which she opened to find a pair of diamond dropper ear-rings and matching necklace. She looked wide-eyed at James. How much money had he spent?

"Before you say anything," he said "they're not diamonds, they're crystals. I knew what you would say, but they're good quality and set in silver."

She returned her gaze to the box.

"They're the ones I saw in the jewellers in Tenerife, aren't they?"

James smiled, but again did not reply.  Molly was overwhelmed and was tempted to kiss him, but thought better of it.  With care, she lifted the necklace from the box.

"James, it's really lovely...so pretty. Thank you. I'll try it on."

"Let me help you."

The necklace glittered and sparkled in the light as he took it from her and fastened it around her neck. It was stunning; and if not expensive, certainly looked it. They stood gazing at their reflections in the mirror and for one insane second, Molly had the absurd idea that James was about to kiss her neck, but it was surely her mind playing tricks, for as the front door bell rang he said "Must be the first of our visitors" and hurried from the room.

The evening went with a swing. James was on top form and appeared almost animated. Molly had never seen him so lively. Everyone enjoyed his company and even Gerald Dillon-Boylan (a neighbour who lived across the way) behaved himself. He was the most big-headed man Molly had ever met and it seemed only James could keep him in check, but James felt sorry for him as he was a widower and he suspected Gerald was very lonely.

Still standing at the front door after saying goodbye to their visitors, James turned to Molly.

"I've got something to show you."

"What is it?" Molly asked.

James took her coat from the hall-stand and helped her into it.

"It's a surprise" he said. He took her out onto the drive and round to the garage where he opened the door with a remote control. The lights blinked on. Standing in the garage was a brand new car, a dark blue Renault Dynamique. Molly was puzzled.

"Your Christmas present" he said "I hope you like it."

Molly gasped as she walked towards the car.

"But I've already had my present."

"Well, that was supposed to be a holiday present. After the upset I forgot about it until we got home and then I decided to keep it for Christmas."

Molly glanced at him in disbelief.

"I don't know what to say."

Molly walked all around the car, looking into the windows as she went.

"It's gorgeous, it's just what I would have chosen, but I can't drive!"

"Not yet" said James.

He opened the front door. Lying on the seat was an envelope, which he took out and handed to Molly. She opened it carefully.

"Driving lessons?"

James smiled.

"And I always said I couldn't stand women drivers!!"

"I can't accept it," said Molly smoothing the car bonnet with her hand. "It's too much."

James frowned.

"A man can buy his wife a car, can't he?"

Molly changed her tack and smiled at him.

"Yes, of course, but I hope he doesn't live to regret it."

"Then you make sure he doesn't." he said.

He turned to leave the garage, but she stopped him by saying quietly,

"This is very thoughtful of you, thank you so much. I've always wanted to learn to drive, but we could never afford it."

James was pleased.

"You're very welcome." he replied.

A happy Christmas came and went. James' parents Len and Phyllis came for a few days over the Christmas break. Much to Molly's relief, they stayed in the spare rooms downstairs as, with her arthritic knees, Phyllis was unable to climb the stairs. Molly had no wish for anyone to learn of their unusual sleeping arrangements. It was difficult enough explaining to Gemma, when she'd helped her chose items for her bedroom. She'd brushed it off, saying they liked the Victorian idea of a man and his wife each having their own room and it added to the excitement when James found her in his bed. Oh, what lies! At the time, James had laughed quietly at this and Molly hated him for it, although when Gemma had quizzed him, he'd gone along with the pretence.

Gemma came on Boxing Day with Tim, who much to Molly's astonishment looked much tidier with a neat hair cut and smart clothes. He'd found himself a new job, with no help from James. Len and Tim got on famously and by the end of the day, after lots of fun and laughter, Molly came to the conclusion that she had misjudged Tim. He was a very clever young man and certainly very kind and loving to Gemma and they seemed very happy together.

Len and Phyllis told them funny stories about James when he was young.  It seemed he'd always had a sense of humour, even as a small child. Despite the pain of her arthritis, Phyllis was a very up-beat, positive minded woman and Molly could see a lot of James in her character. It was with a certain sadness that Molly hugged them both goodbye before James drove them home to Dorking.

Each evening now after supper, when the dishwasher was filled and the coffee made, Molly and James watched wild life programmes or films and she was glad to spend time with him rather than sitting alone in her bedroom. She was beginning to realise how much they had in common.

On the 16th January Gemma and James went to Court. Molly decided to take a driving lesson to help keep her mind off of Sean Williams. This was quite successful until, after the lesson, when they drove back into her driveway, she saw James' car was already there. Her stomach lurched and she felt sick with apprehension as she walked up to the door. It was only 11.30 am and court proceedings had started at 10 am, so what was going on?

Gemma met her in the hallway and just one glance at her face told Molly something dreadful had happened. Gemma put her arm through her mother's and walked her into the lounge.

"Oh, mum it was so disappointing; you'll never guess..."

Molly could feel the blood draining from her face and when she didn't reply, Gemma said

"Sit down mum. I'll get you a gin and tonic."

James was standing by the fireplace with both hands on the mantle piece, his head bowed low. As Molly sat down he turned towards her, looking crestfallen. Molly glanced at Gemma over at the drinks cabinet and then back to James, trying to figure out what was wrong. Gemma came over and handed her the gin and tonic. Molly's hands began to shake and her voice was quiet when she spoke.

"Do I really need to know?"

An awkward silence descended upon the room and furtive looks passed between Gemma and James. Gemma came and knelt by Molly's side and James, still standing near the fireplace, ran his fingers through his hair. An act of desperation, Molly thought.

"Well, you'd better tell me!" Molly cried.

James frowned and then started gesticulating wildly.

"The case was thrown out of Court, Molly, that's what happened. The police lost vital evidence apparently, how or when goodness knows, but your solicitor was not best pleased. He told us this has happened before. Sean Williams was about to be prosecuted three years ago, but it happened just like this; case thrown out of Court. That time no-one was killed, but a man was left badly injured and he's been in a wheel chair ever since."

In a state of shock, Molly stood up and then sat down again.

"No, no...it can't be. That's crazy, the man's a lunatic...so he's gotten away with it then and after all we've been through, I can't believe it!"

James rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

"We have to let it go. Paul wouldn't want us to..."

Molly tossed her head, cutting in.

"Paul's not here, so how can you possibly know what he would want us to do. He's dead, murdered by that maniac!"

James spoke firmly.

"You're forgetting, Molly, Paul was my best friend, I'm never likely to find a friend like him again and I do know what he'd say 'the wheels of God grind slowly, but they grind very hard'."

Molly stood up shouting.

"God has nothing to do with it! Why didn't he keep Paul safe? You tell me that. It's got nothing to do with God!"

James came towards her and held her arms at her side.

"Stop this. Bitterness won't get you anywhere. This sticks in my gut too, but there's nothing we can do."

"Let me go!" Molly shouted. "I'll be as bitter as I like and don't you keep telling me how I should feel. I hate Sean Williams, I utterly despise him and I wish he was dead" and with another toss of the head, she flounced from the room, leaving a bemused Gemma looking on.

Molly sat on her bed, rocking backwards and forwards, hugging Paul's photograph to her breast. She felt hurt and tearful. All she had wanted was justice for Paul and apparently that was too much to ask for. This was such a travesty of justice there was hardly a word in the English language to describe her disappointment. Was it too much to expect for a guilty man to be brought to book and put into prison? Obviously it was. So that was British justice! It stuck in her gut, just like it did with James.

Poor James! She had been unnecessarily nasty to him. It wasn't his fault and he had given her so much support. She felt guilty, but later on she would go down and apologise to him and Gemma, but for the moment she needed time to herself to recover from the shock. Sean Williams should be in prison, where he couldn't cause anymore hurt or destruction, but for now there was no hope.

Molly stood up and placed Paul's photograph back onto her bedside table and then walked to the window. It had snowed during the night. A thin blanket covered the garden and more snow was promised this evening, with a sharp fall in temperature. The world looked so calm and peaceful; so white... so pure...

But it wasn't pure. It was filled with people like Sean Williams. Evil, wicked people who deserved to be punished.

Foxes in the adjoining fields called out to one another. Molly hated the eerie sounds they made and secretly she also hated the foxes although she would not admit it to anyone. She shivered, and turned glowering from the window and walked to the fireplace. As she stared down at the shining black marble cat, which sat proudly protecting the grate, she was overwhelmed with fury.

'Well', she said finally giving vent to her feelings. 'If there's no justice in the law then there's only one thing to do. Meet out the justice myself."

Yes. That was it. She would punish Sean Williams herself, if it was the last thing she ever did.

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Driving lessons continued into February. Molly was determined to pass her driving test first time. James was helping her to study the Highway Code in readiness for the theory test. Certain things were hard to remember and she was struggling with reversing.

On Monday, 12th February she stood at the bay window in the lounge waiting for her driving instructor. The phone rang and she went to answer it.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Radnege I'll have to cancel your lesson today, my wife has had a fall."

Molly put down the phone. She was relieved. Driving wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It was much harder than she'd imagined, she doubted she'd pass first time now.

She was on her way to the kitchen to make a coffee when the phone rang again. This time she picked it up from the hall.

"Hello"

"Hi, Molly it's me, Gerry."

"Oh, Gerry I'm so glad you rang, it's so good to hear your voice. I've had a horrible couple of weeks."

"I got your letter...sorry to hear about the court case, what a let down. Horrible man. But don't let it bother you Molly, he can't possibly get away with it for much longer. He's bound to slip up some time or other."

"I'm gutted." said Molly.

"Oh, Molly what can I say?"

"Let's change the subject" said Molly.

"Changing the subject, how is James?"

"Can you remember you said I might get to like him more in time? Well, it's happened."

"Ooh, Molly tell me more!"

Molly told Gerry all about James and, as usual, Gerry made her laugh with her ridiculous comments. The phone call ended with Molly promising to call Gerry next time.

Molly looked out of her bedroom window. The light was fading. She was pleased to see that the heavy rain had stopped as it had prevented her going out. She was longing to go for a walk to blow away the cobwebs and feel the fresh air on her face. Gemma had bought her a new pair of walking boots for Christmas and she wanted to break them in.

'Perhaps James would like to come with me' she thought. Sometimes he would accompany her on walks, if he wasn't too tired.

She walked across the landing to her bathroom. She showered and changed into a clean nightdress and dressing gown. When the shower was wiped clean and everything left neat and tidy, she made for her bedroom, but just as she reached her door she heard a loud crash coming from James' bedroom.

"James?" she called out "Is that you?"

Realising it was a stupid thing to say, she hurried to his bedroom. At first she didn't see him, then gasped in horror as she saw him lying prostrate on the floor with his head against the grate. There was a small pool of blood on the grate and the carpet near it. He had obviously fallen and hit his head. Blood was still gushing from a wound on his forehead.

She knelt down beside him and was alarmed by his shallow breathing. His face was grey, his eyes closed and one of his hands was clutching at his chest, as if to curb the pain.

"James, can you hear me?"

There was no reply. If this was a heart attack, she knew she had to sit him up.

"Oh my darling," she whispered "It's all right. Everything will be all right."

He was a dead weight and so heavy. She tried to move him, but it was impossible by herself. She shook him gently saying,

"James, wake up. You must sit up, it's important. I think you've had a heart attack.

Please James"

He made no attempt to move, so she shook him again.

"Please James, please..."

Miraculously he opened his eyes and together they managed to pull him round into a sitting position against the chair. Then she stood up and ran to the telephone on the bedside table and rang for an ambulance. This done, she hurried into his bathroom and fetched a flannel, which she pressed against his head hoping to stem the flow of blood.

Panic she had felt before, but not like this. This was life or death. As she knelt beside him on the carpet she warmed his hands in her own. They were cold and clammy and made her shiver. She pulled his dressing gown from the bed and threw it around him. He groaned and tried to speak.

"No. Stay still. There's no need to talk just now."

In obvious pain, he slumped forward, but she held him in a sitting position.

"Don't worry, they're on their way. They'll be here any minute now."

Silently she prayed to the God Paul had so believed in.

"Please God, don't let him die. Please, please don't let him die,"

but seeing his deathly pallor and the blood soaking through the flannel from the deep cut on his head, she wondered if her prayers were already in vain.

END OF PART FOUR