Short Story
Wann werden kleine Lügen zu großen? Wer es mit der Wahrheit nicht so genau nimmt, wird manchmal von der Vergangenheit eingeholt. Von JULIAN EARWAKER
“Truth and lies”
Mike stands at the bar, holding a golden statuette. Promotion to head of marketing — and now the winner of a national award. “Solid gold?” asks Don Faulkner, his boss. “Not even solid plastic,” replies Mike, tapping the trophy gently against his forehead. It makes a hollow sound. Both men laugh.
“You deserve the award, Mike. You’re not just good at your job, you’re a good guy,” says Faulkner. “I wish I had more like you.” “Thanks, Don. Thanks very much.”
“By the way, who’s the guy in the grey suit by the buffet table?” asks Faulkner.
Mike glances across. “No idea. Why?” “He’s been staring at you all night.” “Really?” Mike looks again and dread hits him like a punch in the gut.
“You OK?” asks Faulkner.
“Yeah, thanks. It’s been a long day.”
“So, kids, your daddy won this special trophy last night,” says Sara the next morning, after she’d placed the statuette on the table.
Jack, four, is intrigued, but Suzy, like most two-year-olds, is more focused on her cereal. “Is it real gold?” asks Jack.
“Of course,” says Mike.
“Stop it,” says Sara. “He’s teasing, honey.” “Speaking of which,” says Mike, “we had a call from Mrs Coleman, young man.”
Jack shifts on his seat like it’s suddenly glowing hot. Mrs Coleman is his teacher.
“She says you’ve been telling fibs about other kids,” says Sara.
A tear forms in the corner of Jack’s eye.
“The truth matters, Jack,” says Sara, wiping the tear away gently. “And lies hurt. OK?” “OK.”
“So what do we say?” asks Mike.
“Sorry,” says Jack.
“Yup,” says Mike. “And you’ll have to say sorry to your classmates, too. OK?”
“But Dad…”
“No, Jack. You need to apologize,” says Sara.
Mike had met Sara at uni. She was studying politics; he was a marketing student. It was love at first sight. For him. Sara had her eye on another man: Rory, his best friend. Mike got talking to Sara after a lecture titled “Truth and Lies: How to Avoid Telling the Truth”.
The lecturer had explained the various meanings of the verb “to palter”. Mike had never heard of the word, but he knew the technique. It was something he was good at: avoiding actual lies by saying something that was close enough to what he’d been asked, but not quite the truth. The lecturer had said this was a useful skill in politics and business. But Sara was angry.
“It’s just another form of lying,” she said.
Later, back at the office, Mike gets a phone call from his PA.
“There’s a Rory Price here asking for you.” “Tell him I’m in a meeting,” Mike replies. “He said you’d say that — and that he’d wait,” explains his PA.
“Wait?” says Mike.
“All day if he has to,” says his PA. “He told me to tell you that.”
Mike sighs. “Send him up,” he replies. Up close, his former university friend looks old and tired. He’s wearing the same suit he had on at the awards.
“I need a job,” says Rory. “Marketing, preferably. I just lost my job. Someone found out about the missing years on my CV.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. It’s so unfair. I was trying to make some new contacts at the awards ceremony last night.”
“We don’t have any vacancies, Rory.”
“I’m sure you do.” He holds Mike’s gaze. “You know I’m completely innocent, right?”
“You were found guilty, sent to prison. You already had a criminal record...”
“For a fight outside school when I was 17,” says Rory. “You already know all this, Mike. Some posh bully picked on me and got more than he bargained for. His parents insisted on pressing charges — because they were rich and I came from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“Right.”
“But what happened at the Queen’s Head was a serious crime. It was just chance that the robbers knew me. I served five years for something that had nothing to do with me. Armed robbery? You know that’s not me!” “I wasn’t there,” says Mike.
“No,” Rory says bitterly. “Nor was Sara.”
A Friday night, early spring, 16 years ago. Mike and Sara were 19, and Rory had just turned 20. Rory had asked Mike if he could give Sara a message to meet him at the Queen’s Head pub that evening. Rory really liked Sara. He was planning to ask her out.
“I’ll call her later,” Mike had said. Which he did. And invited her out for a drink and meal. With him, at a gastropub called the Four Keys on the other side of town. When Sara asked Mike what Rory was doing, he replied, “Having a drink at the Queen’s Head.”
And that’s what she told the police.
That night, there was an armed robbery at the Queen’s Head. The two robbers were quickly caught. They knew Rory from school. And the three of them had been seen in the pub, before the crime. Rory already had a criminal conviction. The police assumed he was the lookout. Rory insisted he was there to meet his girlfriend. Just ask her, please.
The police spoke to Mike and Sara at Mike’s home, with both sets of parents in attendance.
“Were you at the Queen’s Head with Rory Price last Friday night?”
“No,” replied Sara.
“And to your knowledge, was he planning to meet you at the pub that evening?”
“She was having a drink and a meal with me,” said Mike. “At the Four Keys.” He looked directly at the older of the two police detectives as he spoke.
“And is Rory Price your boyfriend, Miss?” asked the other detective, quietly.
Sara turned red.
“No,” said Mike, taking her hand. “I am.”
When he gets home from work that evening, Mike finds Jack in the kitchen.
“Hey, kiddo! How was school? Did you get to apologize?”
“Yes,” Jack is solemn. “Mrs Coleman says when people are honest, they feel better about their friendships and social interactions.” “Well, I’m sure that’s right,” says Mike. “What’s an interaction?”
“It’s when you meet someone and talk to them,” Mike tells his son.
“Like you do at work?”
“Yes,” says Mike. “Like I do at work.”
Two days later, Mike gets a call from HR.
“Mike, we’ve got a job application here from a Rory Price. And he’s given you as a referee.”
“Oh, right.”
“Seems to have some valuable industry experience, looks good on paper. So, what’s he like, this Rory Price? You know him well?”
“Um…,” Mike hesitates.