“He told me everything!” he said, lighting the proverbial blue touch-paper and retiring. He was very grateful that he was not having this conversation face to face.
Linda started to wail, blaming him, Kenneth and life in general; in fact, just everything and everyone but her. Graham couldn’t keep track, but at the end of the miles of confused gibberish was the statement, “Yvonne loves me and is far better for me that you are. I’m leaving you!”
“Fine, then I won’t expect you back!” he said, putting the phone down.
He sat there for a moment; allowing his heart-rate to subside once more. He almost smiled, for he felt surprisingly calm. Then, picking his phone again, he dialled another number.
“Steph? It’s me. You were right, Linda was at Yvonne’s place, and it seems they’ve been shagging for a while.”
He listened for a moment.
“No; Kenneth told me that he saw her car there, and I put two and two together. Obviously Kenneth probably knows but wasn’t saying, so I pretended that Kenneth told me everything. She came out and confessed all; at least I think she did. She went on for a few minutes, but wasn’t making much sense. She accused Kenneth of being two people. I’m not sure what she was on about; perhaps she’s finally flipped.”
“No, you’d best not come round. I’ll check on Kenneth and pop round to see you in an hour. It looks like the way is clear!”
He put the phone down and smiled. He was not aware that someone else in the house heard every word.
“The bastard;” Keira said to herself. “He’s put me in the frame for telling tales. Well, we’ll see about that!”
Keira dressed in one of her more sexy dresses, applying her makeup to give her a look older than sixteen and very different from her male look. She ensured that her door was unlocked, and slipped out the window to the garden below. Skirting round the house, she made her way to the side door (that was the back door into the kitchen).
With a large whisky in his hand, Graham was sitting at the breakfast bar, going through his pile of post. He looked up in some surprise as a very attractive young woman waltzed into the kitchen without knocking. Basil made a fuss of her, and she obviously knew the little dog very well. If he didn’t know a person, Basil could bark for Britain. He simply rolled onto his back for her to rub his tummy.
After stroking the dog, she looked at Graham without any qualms.
“Hi, you must be Kenneth’s dad. I’m Keira. Is Ken upstairs in his room?”
Graham blinked a couple of times, lost for words.
“And you are?” he stammered.
“I told you, I’m Keira,” she repeated, as if it explained everything. “I’ll go up, then. See you.”
Graham was left staring after her.
Now, he had his suspicions that Kenneth might be gay, after various vague conversations relating to gender issues. This was a welcome rebuttal of those suspicions. However, it was rather too casual, and well, this was his house, wasn’t it?
He followed her into the hall to see that she had already gone upstairs. He followed and by the time he reached the landing, he heard the sounds of Kenneth’s bed springs and a very feminine gasping, saying, “Yes! Yes! Oh, Kenneth, yes!”
Embarrassed and not a little shocked, he stood there for a while, dithering. Did he go in and interrupt? Did he leave them to it and confront them afterwards? Did he say nothing and pretend he didn’t know?
Too many decisions and no clear route to the correct answers.
He decided against interrupting them, as he felt that it wasn’t the proper thing to do. At least the boy wasn’t gay; that thought kept returning again and again. Instead, he returned downstairs and continued to sift through his mail.
Twenty minutes later the girl came down, smiled at him and left through the front door without saying anything. By the time he reacted and went to the door, she had vanished.
He walked up to the road, but she was nowhere in sight. Scratching his head, Graham wasn’t sure what to do. He returned to his whisky, drained it and poured himself another – his third.
After a couple of minutes talking himself into going up to confront his son, he actually managed to bring himself to go up and knock on his door.
Kenneth was relieved he took as long as he did.
“It’s open!” he said.
“So, young man, what have you to say for yourself?” Graham said, on confronting Kenneth, who was washing his face and still only half dressed.
Kenneth actually wasn’t sure how he managed to change so quickly and remove the makeup in time. The dress and underwear he had quickly stuffed under the bed.
“What are you on about, Dad?”
“That girl who was just here; how dare you entertain a young woman under my roof!”
“What girl?”
“What?”
“What girl, Dad; no one has been here all afternoon?”
“Don’t lie to me; I saw her. She said her name was Keira.”
“I know Keira, but I’ve not seen her today.”
“She was just here, I heard you two together!” Graham was getting quite high-pitched in his frustration.
“So what did you hear, Dad?”
“I heard you and she, um, you and she were, er, you were, you know, you were doing it!”
“Doing what, Dad; revising for my GCSEs?”
“No, you were fornicating, damn it!”
“You mean like you and Stephanie, or Mum and Yvonne?”
Graham was stunned into silence.
“What did you say?”
“You heard, Dad; so don’t come all the high and mighty. It’s been an open secret for months. I’m surprised that you thought that nobody knew.”
Graham stood there, feeling the blood drain from his head. He held onto the door frame to steady himself.
“Everyone?”
“I should think so. I’m not sure about Yvonne’s husband, though, but I’m not sure he cares. It’s his money, or so Mum says, so he does what the hell he likes and lets Yvonne do the same.”
“How do you know this?”
“Mum can’t ever have a quiet conversation on the phone. Plus, she seems to like putting it on speaker because she’s usually doing something else at the same time. I’d have to be deaf not to overhear.”
“Um, does she know about, er, about Stephanie and, um, me?”
“Probably; just about the whole world knows.”
“It isn’t what you think.”
Kenneth regarded his father who now seemed to be much smaller and far less of an ogre.
“I don’t give a shit, Dad. You’re never here; Mum is never here, so what the hell does it matter what I think? You don’t give a shit about me or my problems, so I think it’s probably better you just go away, don’t you?”
With that he turned back to his books.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that; I’m your father!”
“Well, you’ve done a crap job so far. Close the door on your way out. I don’t think either of us needs to say any more; do you?” Kenneth said, keeping his back to his father and picking up his history text book.
Silently, after staring at his son’s back for several moments, Graham realised that he had lost whatever respect his son had for him. He retreated, quietly closing the door behind him.
After another large whisky, he left to meet Stephanie. Watching his Mercedes leave the drive, Kenneth called the police.
“Hello, is that the police? I think my Dad is driving under the influence and might kill someone!”
“Yes, it’s a brand new Mercedes and he’s heading towards Bourne End.”
“Do I have a registration number? Yes, as it happens I do, and I also know where he’s headed.”
After furnishing all the relevant information, Kenneth sat back and became Keira again.
“Right, that’s sorted them. Now we can concentrate on my bloody exams!”
Richard Myers almost had to use bodily force to get his son from the car and into the clinic.
It had been a nightmare week for the family. Roddy had been at his worst. Temper tantrums, sulks, violent outbursts had marked the first day of his suspension. On day two, Caroline Myers had taken Natalie to go and see her parents in Wiltshire, notifying her school that there was a family emergency. It was a private school, and so they didn’t quibble.