Little Boy Blue

73

‘This is him at Thomas’s birthday party.’

Helen was sitting with Dinah Carter in her dingy living room, turning the pages of the family photo album. To Helen’s surprise, Paine seemed to have had a strong relationship with his son – but this had been cut short. Thomas’s dad was now on a metal slab across town, in the tender care of Jim Grieves.

‘When did you last see Max?’

‘Maxwell,’ Dinah corrected her, ‘he was always Maxwell to us.’

‘Of course,’ Helen replied, noting the hostility to Max’s professional name. ‘When did you last see him, Dinah?’

‘Two weeks ago. He came round to take Thomas to football practice.’

There were no tears yet, just blank shock. Dinah was still trying to grapple with what she’d been told. The grief would come later.

‘How did he seem?’

‘Fine.’

‘And did you speak to him at all after this?’

‘We exchanged texts. Making arrangements and so on, but that was it.’

‘When was the last time you received a text from him?’

Dinah was already scrolling through her phone.

‘Sunday night.’

Helen read the message, which was everyday, anodyne, then said:

‘And you’ve been separated for how long?’

‘Separated for seven years, divorced for five.’

‘And can you tell me why your marriage broke up?’

‘Different lifestyles.’

‘Can I ask what you mean by that?’

‘Really? You have to ask?’ she replied tersely.

‘His choice of work.’

Dinah nodded.

‘He wasn’t working as a dominator when you met him?’

‘No, he wasn’t. He was a labourer, for God’s sake. I’m not saying he was an angel. Neither of us were. I was open to stuff, we had a good sex life, but then he started watching a lot of porn, more and more BDSM stuff. He wanted me to go along to meets and stuff and I went to a couple out of loyalty, but I’ve never been comfortable… doing that sort of stuff in public. And once I was pregnant that was it. I called time on it and asked him to do likewise.’

‘But he didn’t?’

‘He said he tried, but he didn’t really. He was hooked. Said it was part of who he was. I don’t think it was at all. In fact it changed him, I always said.’

‘In what way?’

‘He was always very generous, very kind and he loved being a dad. But he started staying out all hours, lying about where he’d been. I loved him, but I didn’t love that side of him and in the end it all became too much.’

‘Was it you who ended the relationship?’

‘Yes. He got a flat and not long after that changed his name and…’

Helen nodded. It was clear that Dinah hated her ex-husband’s alter ego, feeling perhaps that the name change was a rejection of her, of his past.

‘Did you ever see his flat?’

‘No, I wouldn’t go round there and I wouldn’t let Thomas either.’

‘Did you ever come into contact with any of his clients? Anyone he worked with?’

‘No,’ Dinah replied impatiently. ‘I wanted nothing to do with it. Because that wasn’t him. Our Maxwell bought me flowers every Friday, took Thomas to the Saints, saved up to take us away on holiday. Whatever else came after, that was the real Maxwell. The man we both loved.’

Helen nodded, her gaze falling on the photo album that lay open in front of her. Looking at the photos of a smiling Maxwell, laughing and joking with his son, Helen reflected on how often people surprise you. She had been guilty of writing Paine off as a violent misogynist, but he was clearly capable of love, tenderness and devotion. Maybe it was impossible to know somebody else in this life. Perhaps it was only in death that one’s true self was revealed.