A Family Affair

Driving along the coast, the back of my head throbbing, all I can think about is the man in the passenger seat and whether he is a figment of my imagination or not. The smell of the sea air and the sound of the birds overhead are then only absolutes I can cling to.

"Don't worry, it's not like the police were keeping tabs on you, no one will notice that you're gone." The man's name is Tyler, he is the definition of tall, dark and handsome.

I can usually count on other drivers getting distracted by their proximity to fame, but the road is dead. Heat haze and the odd piece of litter, dragged along in our wake, are all the hope the rear view mirror has to offer.

Pointing out that everyone else working on the show will notice we are missing, I find myself comparing Tyler to his character.

"I told them you were going home sick and you said we should take the rest of the day off." He smiles like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The radio crackles back into life and a terrible dance cover of a song I once loved plays. My dislike feels almost visceral, as if this DJ has tainted something deeply personal. Instinctively I want to change the station but Tyler swats my hand.

Shooting him a confused look, he replies "First, the news will be on after this, and secondly, I love this song."

I start arguing about which version was better, trying to distract myself from the reality of the situation.

"I'm sure Lisa will be glad to know the song meant so much to you," Tyler's eyes never leaving the coastline.

Feigning ignorance, I downplay the relationship with Lisa. The company line is she was just a glorified extra who developed an infatuation. Once her scenes were in the can she got a bigger opportunity on a bigger production. She was only twenty, she had no business being with a man in his late forties. No in the end, it couldn't have worked out better for her.

"Did the others have songs?" Tyler's looking at me this time, searching my face for the difference between the man and his reputation.

Sliding down my window the smell of rapeseed is carried in upon the warm air. Reflecting upon the media perception of my romantic life I'm ashamed that, even before any of this, I wouldn't have been able to separate fact from fiction.

Pain erupts behind my eyes, and I lose concentration. The car drifts onto the other side of the road. Tyler grabs the wheel and straightens us up.

Gingerly touching the stitches hidden beneath the bandages, I'm relieved to find the wound still closed.

"Still hurt? There might be some ibuprofen in here somewhere," Tyler rummages through the glove compartment, discarding various documents, napkins and old CD's before handing me a bubble pack with one pill left.

"It's better than nothing!" he offers me a sip from his bottle of, now warm, water.

The news headlines are the usual mix of government incompetence, football scores and the death of my wife. It's a small comfort that it's no longer being the top story, and that there is no mention of a nationwide man hunt.

"It's funny for all the time she spent on TV, people know next to nothing about her, Rachel I mean."

How did he know her? Tyler had only been on the show for a few months and they had no scenes together. Rachel teased me that I had done it deliberately. Writing my wife safely away from the country's newest heart throb.

"Well, truth be told, we knew each other before I started on the show. She probably wouldn't even remember me it was that long ago..." For a second it looks like Tyler is going to say something else only to turn his attention back to the sea.

It was more common than people think, even among actors. Tyler might have known Rachel, but it was more likely he knew the matriarch of a fictional family. Loving, nurturing and protective. The character was born of our late night discussions on the kind of mother Rachel would have been, had she been able to. Art making up for something life had denied her.

He's been at me for the past week about getting out of town and letting the police handle Rachel's murder. We are travelling up north for a couple of days of fishing and drinking. The thought makes my stomach rumble.

"Not far to go now, another few hundred yards on the left..." Tyler points out a small turn off that nature has almost reclaimed.

My car begins to shudder as the road changes from asphalt to dirt. Pine trees rise up around us, smothering the coastal views. Ahead is the crumbling ruin of an old farmhouse, that someone is in the middle of trying to resurrect.

"I know you are used to five star hotels, but I'm sure we can rough it for a couple of days." Tyler smiles.

Pulling into a clearing I stop the car, basking in the stillness of my new surroundings. The silence reminds me of waking up on the bedroom floor, my skull screaming in pain. For a second I see Rachel's bloody remains. Her face, it looks both different and familiar, as if I was seeing something new. Shaking my head the image disperses.

Tyler is out of the car and hunting the construction site, as if expecting to run into a foreman or the owner. If I had just dreamt him up, why would I have him do that? In case the police are here, or worse journalists? What if this place was mine, another memory lost from the blow to the back of my head?

Rachel's death is a complete blank, who's to say it's the only thing you have forgotten? Now I'm beginning to think like a crazy person. Stop it, you make stuff like this up for a living, things like this don't happen in the real world. In soap operas everyone is related, through some strange incestuous web of lies and deceit. In the real world, random people break into your home and....

"Everything all right?" As he slit open the piece of tarpaulin covering the south wall with a utility knife, he beckons me inside. "Just leave the stuff, we can come out and get it later, let me show you around."

How far from civilization are we now? All I can see are endless trees and shadows. What happens if something goes wrong? I haven't seen another person or building for hours.

How long has it been since I talked to anyone other than Tyler? More importantly, how long has it been since someone else spoke to him?

How much do I know about him really? Not the character, but the man. I start asking random questions to assuage my doubts.

"I was adopted and have two half siblings. My middle name is Frank. I prefer Chinese food to India, the last movie I watched was The Usual Suspects and I'm not currently seeing anyone." He replies, counting off the answers on his fingers.

Comforted that he's not the scion of a crumbling criminal dynasty, but just a regular person, I shake my head and apologise.

Inside the building it's all plasterboard walls, exposed beams and more plastic sheeting spread around like a carpet. A couple of hand lamps are strung up around the rafters and the walls have holes ready for windows to be fitted.

"Mind if I ask you a question now?" Tyler said.

Something about his phrasing made my pulse race. The wound on the back of my head began pounding. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest.

"How long were you married to Rachel?"

Sitting atop a discarded workbench, Tyler either didn't notice my anxiety or didn't care. Not long I told him, she had only been on the show a couple of months before we started seeing each other. By the time my previous wife had granted me a divorce, it was maybe another year before we said our 'I dos'. Seven years all in.

"You know much about her life before that?"

His interest in Rachel was more macabre than salacious. I told him I knew enough, it was glib but true.

"What about the night she died?"

It feels like someone wants a confession, I'm just not sure which of us it is. Aware of the silence, I gave him the same speech I had given to the police and the media. Saying it aloud my ignorance seemed even more implausible. The truth of the matter was I didn't need to kill her, I could leave her whenever I wanted, Rachel had signed a prenup.

"You really don't remember anything do you?"

Extending the blade of his utility knife, Tyler smiled.

"I forgave her for casting me aside as a child. I told her that and I meant it. She was young and couldn't provide for me. But now she was rich and successful, there was no reason we couldn't be together. Only there was, she had too much to lose. And that...well that I couldn't forgive...."

As I ran my feet got caught in the plastic sheet covering the floor. Landing face first my chin split. Clinging to the notion that this was all in my imagination I tried to stem the flow of blood with my hand.

"Of all the nights you could have picked to come home instead of cheating on her..." Tyler said, his shadow settling over me.