Fat Christiana
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Mo Torrance is a fat, handsome and gracious teacher from the seaside. His life is going nowhere until he meets Christiana Kowalski, a thin, bald woman with a passion for dancing. They fall in love and get married but their happiness is short-lived.
When they are invited to join a group of people who want to buy up all the land near the sea so it can be developed into houses, Mo decides to go along with them because if he doesn’t then there will be nothing left for him and his family.
But he soon realises that things aren’t quite as simple as they seem and when he sets out to discover what is really going on, he finds himself at the centre of an investigation which takes him deep into the heart of darkness.
***
There was no moon tonight; only a bright half-moon, peering down from behind clouds like an overfed pheasant perched on a tree stump. The sky was black as ink, except for a narrow band of red where the stars were shining. A gentle breeze blew across the water, carrying with it a hint of the sea salt smell that filled the air around Brighton.
It had been a long day and I didn’t feel much like going home. It was almost time for my bus back to London and, although I knew I should go, I wasn’t sure I was ready yet. We had come here to celebrate the wedding of a friend – one of those rare occasions when you could gather together in one place all the people who meant something to you.
Mo Torrance had asked me to give a little speech at the reception and I hadn’t felt able to refuse.
‘Oh, just go ahead and do your thing,’ he’d said. ‘You know how to work for the crowd.’
I looked out towards the sea as I walked back along Marine Parade to the hotel. There was a group of people standing by the railing, watching the lights of the fishing boats bobbing in the distance. One of them had a dog on a lead and the animal was barking loudly.
‘Excuse me, miss?’ she called out. ‘Are you the new English teacher? I’m the lady from the office.’
I stopped and turned around. She was a small, pretty girl with straight black hair tied loosely behind her head. ‘Yes I am,’ I replied. ‘Is there something wrong?’
She smiled shyly but shook her head. ‘No, not at all. It’s just that I noticed your name on the list and wondered if you would mind signing my guestbook.’
‘Of course,’ I told her. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Gillian, Miss. Gillian Smith, from the school.’
‘Well, Ms. Smith, I hope you’re enjoying your stay here.’
She nodded. ‘Very much so. Thank you.’
I went back to my room and sat down at the desk. My name was already written in the book.
Dear Mr. Torrance, thank you very much for inviting us to your wedding. We have enjoyed every minute of our holiday and look forward to coming back next year. You are a great host and a lovely man. Good luck with everything.
Yours sincerely,
Christiana Kowalski
Her handwriting was neat and clear, but there were no words of sentiment or friendship. This was simply a matter of business and I had seen many such entries before. Most people came here for the season and then returned to their homes in the autumn. In this way they kept alive a link with the past, but also ensured that their own futures were protected against any unexpected events.
I closed the book and set it aside. Then I picked up the telephone and dialed a number. After a moment of silence, a voice answered.
‘Good evening, Mr Torrance speaking.’
‘Hello, Mo. How are you doing?’
‘Fine, thanks. Listen, I’ve got some news for you.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The wedding guests have spoken. They voted unanimously to grant the Torrances permission to extend their lease.’
‘That’s good news!’
‘Yes, it is. But now we’ll need to sort out the paperwork.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Just make sure you have the final draft drawn up by tomorrow morning and I’ll take care of the rest.’
‘All right, Mo. Thanks for letting me know.’
After we hung up I sat at the desk again. I pulled a pen out of the drawer and began to write.
It was a few minutes after midnight when I finally put away the pen and stood up. As I walked out into the hall, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around and saw a young woman standing there. She wore a simple white dress and had her hair loose, flowing over her shoulders.
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’
‘It’s all right,’ she reassured me. ‘I can see you’re busy.’
I hesitated for a moment, but then I remembered the last time I’d tried to avoid a conversation. ‘Perhaps you could help me instead?’
She smiled. ‘I’d be delighted.’
***
The woman led me downstairs to the parlor, where a fire burned in the grate. She sat down on the sofa and pointed to a chair opposite. I took a seat and leaned back, crossing my legs.
‘So, please tell me,’ I asked, ‘what’s your name?’
‘Linda.’
‘And you’re a student, Linda?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m an English literature student.’
‘How old are you?’
She smiled. ‘Twenty-one.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘In Hull.’
‘Do you have family here?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘Why do you want to study English Literature at university?’
‘My father died three years ago and my mother was left alone with two children to raise. She couldn’t afford to pay for private tuition. I wanted to give her a hand and thought that studying English might help.’
‘And has it?’
‘Yes, it has. I’ve been accepted onto a postgraduate program at the University of York.’
‘Congratulations!’
‘Thank you. So, what about you? Are you married?’
I shook my head. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Are you seeing anyone?’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Do you ever go to bed with your wife?’
I looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Like, let’s say you come home at night and find her in bed with another man. Would you join them?’
‘Oh dear God, no! Of course not.’
‘And why would you never do that?’
I shrugged. ‘Because I love my wife.’
‘But how would you feel if she joined him in the bedroom and they made love together?’
Again I was taken aback. ‘Why… why would she do such a thing?’
She looked puzzled. ‘You don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘If she loved you, she wouldn’t choose to have sex with another man.’
‘Oh,’ I replied, suddenly understanding what she meant. ‘Of course.’
‘If you didn’t know, I can understand that.’
I paused for a moment. ‘Well,’ I said slowly, ‘if she told me she was going to bed with another man, I’d have to consider the possibility that perhaps she wasn’t as much in love with me as I thought. And I might even start to wonder whether our relationship had run its course.’
‘And what would you do if you found out that your wife was unfaithful?’
I was quiet for a long time. ‘I’d have to ask myself whether I still loved her enough to want her back.’
‘And what if she refused to return?’
I hesitated again. ‘Then I’d have to accept the situation and try to move on.’
‘Would you leave her?’
‘I suppose I would.’
‘And if she came back begging for forgiveness?’
‘I think I’d forgive her.’
‘Forgive her?’
‘Yes, I suppose so. We both knew it would happen sooner or later. But I wouldn’t take her back if she promised never to do it again.’
‘And why not?’
‘Because it wouldn’t be fair. She’d cheated once; what would stop her from doing it again?’
‘And if she did cheat again?’
‘I’d divorce her.’
‘Divorce her?’
‘Yes. I’d cut her loose.’
‘But surely that would break your heart.’
‘Yes, I suppose it might.’
Linda smiled. ‘And what if she begged you to stay?’
This was new territory. It seemed the more I answered her questions, the more she got to know me.
‘I’d be tempted to accept her back, but only because I’d like to believe she felt guilty about what she’d done and wanted to make things up to me.’
‘But you wouldn’t trust her?’
‘No, I wouldn’t trust her to keep her word.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Because I’d know how easily she could betray me again.’
‘That sounds harsh.’
‘It would hurt her, too.’
‘Yes, I imagine it would. What if she told you that you were the one who had betrayed her?’
‘I’d have to face up to that. I’d need to understand why she believed that.’
‘And what would you do then?’
‘I’d have to sit down with my wife and talk through everything we’d been through together. I’d see whether there was any truth in what she’d said. If I concluded that she was right, I’d probably decide to call it quits.’
‘And what if you decided she was wrong?’
‘Then I’d stay with her.’
‘Even though she had confessed to being unfaithful to you?’
I thought for a moment. ‘I’d have to weigh up whether I still loved her enough to put up with all that.’
‘And would you?’
‘Yes, I probably would.’
‘And if you did, what difference would it make?’
‘Well, I’d still love her, but I wouldn’t trust her.’
‘And why not?’
‘Because I’d know how easy it was for her to betray me.’
‘But how would you know that?’
‘Because I know myself. And I’m sure you’ll agree that most people are capable of behaving badly when they’re angry or afraid.’
‘True.’
‘So if I discovered that my wife had told me a lie, I’d have to assume she was lying again.’
‘And why wouldn’t she tell you the truth?’
‘Because she doesn’t want to lose me.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I’ve seen it before.’
‘With other women?’
‘Yes.’
‘And how do you know that?’
‘I know because I’m the same way. It’s just the way we’re wired.’
‘But surely that proves nothing.’
‘Not really. It shows that we’re all capable of doing bad things when we’re angry.’
‘But wouldn’t you rather believe that she was telling the truth?’
‘Yes, I would.’
‘But you haven’t met her yet.’
‘Maybe, but I know something about her already.’
‘What?’
‘She’s intelligent. She’s confident. She’s funny. She can be pretty tough when she needs to be. She has a good sense of humour. And she’s loyal to those she loves.’
‘And you think these qualities will help you to judge whether she’s telling you the truth?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t have any reason to doubt them.’
‘You mean you trust her character?’
‘I trust her judgment.’
‘Do you think that’s naive?’
‘No. Because I know what I’d be like under the same circumstances.’
‘Really? Tell me.’
‘I’d have no choice but to believe her.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Because I’d know what she was going through.’
‘But you don’t know anything about what she’s feeling now.’
‘Yes, I do. That’s because I feel exactly the same way.’