Quantum Poppers (23 page)

Back in the
lounge and Andy and Simon were in multiplayer. The various characters on screen
flailing at speed in two dimensions, leaping, running and continually falling
into abysses from which a click of a button soon yanked them out. Tony handed
Simon his beer.

‘Nothing for
yourself?’

‘Not tonight.
Want to remain sober.’

‘Oh yeah, for
the job,’ said Simon in monotone, not taking his eyes from the screen.

‘That’s right,’
said Tony deciding now to head back to the kitchen for a caffeine hit. He
skipped through Andy’s vision who instantly swayed to his right to keep view of
the screen. A black coffee, plenty of sugar, perhaps a biscuit or two, an
exciting conclusion to his most bizarre of weeks.

‘This bloody
game!’ The rage in Simon’s voice distorted it beyond recognition. ‘She wasn’t
supposed to jump then.’

It wasn’t until
Simon replied that Tony realised this outburst of gamer’s rage had emanated
from Andy. ‘She just keeps on jumping when you least expect it.’

Tony stopped in
his tracks. He could almost feel the cogs of his brain kicking into gear,
connecting the dots, the possibilities and the conclusions of what Simon and
Andy’s words could mean. A truth dawned on him. But then, it couldn’t be that
simple. He turned back to Simon and Andy.

‘What did you
say?’

Once again,
with eyes glued solely to the screen Simon said: ‘this bloody princess, she
just jumps all over the place.’

It wasn’t until
a concerned Andy asked him whether he was ok that he realised he was stood with
his eyes shut, gesturing with his hands, and playing over the possibilities of
an idea that had now struck him.

At the very
least it would be another ghost. But what if...what if she was something more.

The rising sun
brought with it its usual morning revelations. It awoke in John distant
memories of a darkened room, time spent alone, and a knowing fear of
uncertainty as to how it would all end. This dawning day merged into existence
as thoughts of a past faded to mere memory. And with it came the prevalent
memories of the present in which he now existed.

Sleep had
eventually taken him and as its comforting cowl slid away, the first sensation
to greet him was one of company. He was waking for the first time in over a
year within the presence of another. His left hand rested on Caroline’s thigh
as his other shot out away from him under a neck on which she rested. The cool
darkness and morning rumble of a boiler kicking in greeted him – again, sounds
and sensations that reminded him of home, minuscule details which encapsulated
reality. It was these aspects that helped define home, and it was these things
he never wanted to leave again. Without opening his eyes he raised his left
hand up from her thigh to rest it delicately on her hip, gentle enough to
tickle her. Her non-movement indicated that she must still have been asleep.

The memory of
her hesitant acceptance to his return roused in him a longing to never leave
her again. It was true, he had disappeared before. The first time had been days
after finding out that Caroline was pregnant with Jennifer, to his indelible
shame. It wasn’t fear of the responsibility he now faced, it was a necessity to
make the most of his last few months of freedom. Marriage he could get out of,
even the new house they had bought could be sold, but a child could never be
returned. Not without the moral nagging which would have plagued him for
eternity. He had needed to get away and spend some time alone - so had done the
least manly thing imaginable. He had left without a word. One Monday morning he
went to work and simply didn’t come home until the Friday evening. He had
stayed at the office. The building was a 24/7 operation so no-one had
questioned why he hadn’t gone home - no one had realised. He had slept in his
office, eaten out each night, and been ready for work at 8.30 sharp the next
day. His denial that Caroline was pregnant was sated by work. He had put his
entire being into his job in order to block all thought of the baby and the
responsibility he now faced. The funny thing was that this newfound commitment
to work woke within him an awareness of how much he enjoyed it, and how good he
was at it. He thrived during that week at Alfred and Sons, and the company
thrived along with his tripled output and fully focused state of mind. He
gained his first promotion two weeks later. Returning home that Friday evening,
still wearing the same suit (be it with a change of underwear brought from the
supermarket next door), had resulted in a weekend of hatred at himself, yelling
from Caroline, and eventual recognition that his old life was truly over. The
fact that Caroline had accepted his week away with little questioning had hurt
inside. She had understood exactly how he had felt and had dealt with it by
allowing him to let off steam. She knew full well where he had been staying,
and had only tried calling the office twice. She had also known as well as he
had that he would return within days to face the future together.

There had also
been various nights out with the lads which had elongated into weekends; plus
overnight work trips which had extended into weeks away. Shortly after Jessica
had been born he had flown up to Edinburgh for a conference one Friday morning.
He, plus two colleagues, had then made the decision to pub crawl it back over
the course of three days. And not a word spoken to Caroline. Just trains, pubs
and dingy bathrooms. Once home he would question why he had done it. The only
answer he could come up with revolved around it somehow being Caroline’s fault.
Her accepting smile when he eventually returned ignited a desire to get away
again as soon as possible.

But what rose
in him now meant he would never stray again. Part of him assumed all the recent
events were some kind of punishment, a literal imprisonment from those he was
supposed to love, with lessons to be learnt. He had certainly learnt them now.
Part of his willingness to never leave may have been a fear of reprisals from
Bartley, but so what? If it meant spending eternity in the arms of his wife and
the presence of his kids, it would be worth it.

A smile rose to
his lips at the thought of Jennifer and Jessica. The joy in their eyes when
they had seen him outside school the night before spoke volumes for the need to
see their father. Their love for him was infinitesimal in comparison to his
love for them. He was in for the duration.

He raised his
hand high up Caroline’s hip, feeling its sensual curve fall and rise towards
her chest. Yet there was doubt. Could he really settle down in this life with
the threat of Bartley and the double threat of the imposter? They must know
where he lived; they had known where he worked. Just spending the night here
was a risk. He was surprised how easily he had slept with the knowledge that he
was a wanted man. The disappearance of the imposter which in turn led to his
own integration back into his old life somehow made things easier, but he
couldn’t go on living with the uncertainty of his and his family’s safety. He
still needed answers and he still needed an assurance that he could settle and
relax. There was the strong possibility that he would have to go on the run
once more, and that was a promise to Caroline he did not want to break. There
was also something else.

His eyes
remained shut but he could sense the dawning sunlight grace the room with its
presence, laying its shroud of light upon the new day. The darkness of his
closed eyes, patched red, almost brought sleep back upon him, dragging him away
from day and that one nagging thought he couldn’t quite recall. John slid his
hand back down Caroline’s hip, to her thigh and then back up again. The
grogginess of sleep was taking him under for a much deserved morning doze. He
rested his hand once more upon her hip. He then let his hand fall across her
stomach.

His eyes opened
instantly and he removed his hand in a flash as if Caroline were electrified.
This movement woke Caroline and she stirred, turning gently to lie on her back.
John pushed himself away from her, suddenly not wanting any contact as the
memory of last night’s revelation struck through him like a spear.

The baby. A
being that was seemingly his in the eyes of his wife, yet a stranger’s child
who, as things stood, he would be expected to raise and look after.

‘What time is
it?’ mumbled Caroline from the nestle of the covers. She moved her hand out in
search for John’s. At first John flinched at her touch. Could she be trusted?
Had she really fallen for the trickery of the intruder? From the picture he had
seen he had certainly looked identical. And by the reaction of her, the kids,
and even Kerry who had formed a relationship with it, they had all been taken
in. The notion that the man she had cheated on was still somehow him screwed
with his brain to an extent that it came full circle in the knowledge that she
had continued to love him. He had offered Caroline hope and an unknowingness to
the disappearance of her actual husband. She had had comfort and the apparent
knowledge that all was well. It wasn’t her fault. He reached for her hand and
clasped it reluctantly. She squeezed his tightly with a pressure he could not
return.

He glanced over
at the bedside clock which glowed faintly in the morning light.

‘It’s about
seven.’

‘Are you
getting up for work?’

‘Eventually.’

The thought of
work made him shudder. There had been a time when he enjoyed it: the money, the
power, the excuse to get away from family. But now there was nothing. It
appeared that he had been going until two weeks ago, so there would be some
explaining to do, but he had no intention of doing any work. Again, this would
have to be explained to Caroline, but for now he had to go on the off chance
there were answers held there. Wherever
there
was.

‘You better get
up, you’ll be late.’ Caroline pulled back the covers and got out of bed as John
pushed himself into a sitting position, letting out the slightest of stretches.

‘I don’t think
an extra few minutes will make much difference now,’ he said and swung his legs
out to the floor as he forced away further thoughts of the child.

‘You can have
the car if you want.’

‘It’s ok; maybe
you could give me a lift?’

‘But I won’t be
needing the car.’

‘You never
know, you might want to pop out.’

‘No, it's fine.
Take the car.’

John let it
drop as he got out of bed, the knowledge of his destination still a tactic to
be played out.

The sound of
the girls getting ready for school pounded over his head like out-of-sync drums
thumping an ill practiced tune. The scattering of footfalls from bedroom to
bathroom played out without conduction - a percussive symphony of daze. Below
the noise, upon the round table in the lounge, Caroline and John sat over their
breakfast of coffee, toast and grapefruit. John had been hoping for a fry-up of
sausage, bacon, beans and at least one variety of egg. He wouldn’t have cared
if it was scrambled, fried, poached, boiled or even raw now that Caroline had
brought out to him the blood red grapefruit plus a quarter teaspoon of sugar.

‘Always a
grapefruit to start a work day,’ Caroline had said as she placed it before him.
He snuck three teaspoons of sugar into his coffee to allow some sweet sensation
upon the taste buds - after twelve months of complex supplied breakfasts and
two days of Holiday Inn style cereal he could have done with a fry up on his
return home. He greeted the delivery of the fruit with a smile and a large
mouthful of the heavily sweetened drink. He took a bite - inwardly claiming
purgatory for the bitter sensation that soured his tongue – as the scampering
footfalls continued above.

‘Caroline,’ he
said, taking two quick sections of the grapefruit. His tactic now was to
consume (i.e. get rid of) the fruit as quick as possible. ‘I really think I
should get a taxi today. It would be good to take the boss out for a few drinks
after work. At least I won’t have to worry about limits.’

‘That’s very
thoughtful of you. But wouldn’t you want to spend your first full day back with
me? You said yourself you were in no rush. I’m sure your boss won’t be too
pleased to see you.’

‘More’s the
reason to sweeten him up with alcohol.’

Caroline
shrugged a silent disapproval.

‘Yes dear, I’ll
come straight home from work. Maybe we could go out this evening?’

‘What about the
kids?’

‘Bring them
along. I’m beginning to regret every second I now don’t spend with them.’ A
crash occurred overheard reminding him of their proximity. He surely would have
complained about the noise had he not been parted from them for so long. Whilst
annoying, it was comforting to be reminded that they were still so close.

‘That’s sweet.
We could go to The Bull. Perhaps sit outside if the weather is nice.’

‘Sounds good to
me,’ said John, but now needed to get back on track. He still had destinations
to confirm. ‘I’ve been thinking’, he said after one deep drain of his drink.
The sugar overload in the cuppa almost wasn’t enough to wash away the sourness
encrusting the inside of his mouth. ‘I believe my return is a fresh start.
Perhaps I should extend this fresh start to work.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Resign, if
they don’t fire me first. Be good to seek out new opportunities.’

‘New opportunities?
You’ve only been there six months.’

‘But I’m not
too keen on the role or the location.’

‘The location
was the sole reason you took the job in the first place. You’ll never find one
like that so close to home.’

‘But it’s a bit
grotty, don’t you think?’

‘What do you
expect? You’re the one who wanted to mix things up by taking this drastic
career change. Fleetsquare might not be London, but it’s a totally different
industry. What would you do instead?’

So Fleetsquare
it was. The name sounded familiar yet didn’t cement its location fully. He
pictured an industrial estate in the middle of nowhere. If he got a taxi to the
location then hunting down his particular office could still be a struggle.
Maybe it would be obvious once he got there, or perhaps a labyrinthine goal to
locate throughout the maze of offices and units. And what was this about career
changes? Had he left the world of accountancy behind? It was an idea he had
mused with on occasion but never thought of putting into action. It seemed his
double had been busy, screwing up his existence one life altering decision at a
time.

‘I’ll have to
think that over. Let me get through today first. I really would like to get a
taxi. I don’t fancy driving.’

‘What happened
John? Your time away affected your driving ability?’ There it was, that lurking
scorn to her words.

‘Not driving
exactly, but a little drained all round,’ said John, adding a hint of
exhaustion to his words.

‘Ok then. Get a
taxi. You know the number.’