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It Was Something in Her Voice

By: GaryAPB



Some would say that Greg Perry was a cold fish. But he wasn't. He was passionate about so many things. It was just that he never lost his temper. If he raised his voice it wasn't passion or anger, it was a purposeful decision to raise his voice, to underline whatever he was saying. But, he was a kind, fair-minded and loving man. 

His main passion by far was his wife of twenty five years, Susan. He also loved and was proud of his two children, Melissa and Jude, but they were grown up now. Melissa had graduated with a good degree and was building her own career, and Jude was about to start his last year at University before he would also strike out for himself. Greg was very proud of his children, but he looked forward to Jude graduating and moving off to his own life, leaving Susan and Greg to enjoy their empty nest.

On this last Monday of August, Greg was sitting at his desk pondering if there was anything else he could do to encourage his Board of Directors to accept that he wanted to retire early, or at least edge towards working part-time. It was over six months now since he had promised Susan that he would start planning to ease his work load. She had given up work last year when she was made redundant, and they had talked and decided that it really wasn't worth her while trying to pick up her career somewhere new if Greg would retire sometime soon. So he had promised her he would have freed himself up no later than Jude's graduation next year, but he knew that she was getting impatient and bored with being at home all day. The house was empty without the children, and she missed them. She was doing more charity work with her Church, but she had refused Greg's offer to help her take golf lessons, so that she could have joined him on the greens. In fact, Greg smiled as he thought of it, her Church and his golf were the only things that ever kept them apart, other than work. On Sundays she would head for her God, and Greg would commune with his, in a regular foursome with old friends. 

Greg brought his thoughts back to getting the Board to agree to some form of part time working. The problem was that the Board were scared to let him go. Greg had founded Perry Consultants over fifteen years ago. His calm manner, his ability to turn problems into opportunities, his optimistic outlook even when the going got rough had seen him through. And he could look back on times in the business when the going had got very rough, but now they seemed to be in calmer times, and the company was growing steadily. Greg had a good right hand man in Tom Gould, and everyone expected Tom to takeover when Greg did retire, it was just the Board were reluctant to actually let him ease up at all. They were scared of him just not being there, and whenever Greg raised the idea of retirement or an easier work load they had procrastinated: "We need you to see through the current contracts" Or "Let's talk about it after year end." There was always some reason why not. Greg knew that as majority shareholder he could just dictate his own future, but he wanted the outside shareholders, and his colleagues within the firm to be happy at his retirement. He wanted the Board's approval and full support. He didn't want to walk out on a company and a team of colleagues that he'd worked with for over fifteen years, he wanted to go with their blessing.

In truth, Greg didn't really want to retire completely. He was only fifty, and he still had a lot of energy for they company he had created. But he did want to please Susan and spend more time with her. And these days, it seemed his office hours were getting longer not shorter. Somehow he had to get his colleagues to accept his partial retirement, and he had to get Susan to accept a compromise of partial retirement.

There was only one member of the Board who would probably be happy to see him go, and that was Phil Tremit, an external director and a successful local businessman.. He was a champion for Tom, and anxious to see him promoted. To try and speed things up, only last month Greg had tried having a quite chat with Phil, telling him that maybe, with the current mood of the other Directors, he had to accept that he wasn't going to be allowed to retire for some years yet. Greg hoped that Phil would take the challenge, and talk a few Directors round to his way of thinking, but he hadn't seen any signs of change yet. 

Just then, as Greg was lost in his thoughts, he heard a knock at his open office door. Paul Benson, the Finance Director, was hesitantly wheeling himself in his motorised wheelchair towards Greg's desk, waiting to be told that Greg had time to see him. Paul had joined the company about nine years ago, when he wanted to return to work after a dreadful road accident that had left him with very weakened legs, he could just about stand and take a single step, and a totally paralysed left arm. He was a fully qualified accountant, but no other company in town wanted to know. It was only Greg who could not see any connection between a man's walking ability and his ability to keep accounts, and had immediately offered him a job on the proper pay for the responsibilities.

"Yes, Paul? What can I do for you?"

"I thought you might like to see this list of charity donations we will be making for this financial year before tomorrow's meeting." Paul proffered Greg a sheet of paper.

"Mmmm....thanks. Anything that's going to cause arguments?"

"I don't think so. Eighty percent of them were on the list last year. The new recipients are the ones in bold type."

"And you used the same percentage of the gross profit as always?"

"Yup. It's mainly your money, so if you are happy with it, then who am I to argue?"

Greg glanced down the list. All the charitable donations that were made through the company were to local small charities, Friends of the Hospital, the local Mother and Baby group, that sort of thing. Then Greg noticed one he didn't know:

"What's 'Help at 43'?"

"43 Manvers Street. It's an advice centre for addicts. It helps them find a bed for the night, they know which hostels accept addicts; help them get full social security payments despite their problems, that sort of thing."

"How about getting them off drugs. That might help them more."

"Oh no. That's the point, they aren't preached at. Their lifestyle isn't challenged. It's for people who haven't got to the point of wanting to give up yet. It's to help them stay safe until they're ready to make a big change in their lives."

Greg looked up at Paul. "No way!"

"What's wrong with them?"

"I'm not spending my money, and as you rightly point out, I am still the majority shareholder so it's mainly my money, on a bunch of people who are deliberating hurting themselves and probably everyone around them."

"But they need help until they get to sorting themselves out."

Greg sighed, "Look, Paul, I shouldn't have to tell you, I'm not against helping people who are trying to help themselves. People who have had a difficult period say, even if self-inflicted, but are trying to dig their way out of their problems have my respect and support. To my knowledge, we've got at least two ex-drug addicts and one recovering alcoholic and one guy with criminal prison sentence behind him, and about four registered disabled, including yourself. They are putting their lives back together, and we will give them all the help we can." Greg looked at Phil and answered his unasked question, "And No, you don't need to know who they are. But they are doing a good job and good luck to them. But there's a world of difference between respecting and helping them, and a bunch of losers who want someone else to put their world right for them. So cross that one off your list and reallocate the money. OK?"

"Would it help if I said that my wife is a volunteer there?"

"No. I admire Jean for trying to do her bit in society. But tell her to go and help people who have problems through no fault of their own and who respond to the help they are given. That's just my opinion. Sorry, but she gets none of my money."

"OK. I'll revise it before the Board meeting tomorrow."

The monthly Board Meeting the next day went well. No mention was made of Greg's retirement, and the charitable donations went through on the nod. Greg was feeling quite pleased with everything until they got to Any Other Business. Then Paul looked up and said he should inform the Board that C&G Services hadn't paid their invoices for nine weeks. Paul wasn't worried about C&G's credit, but there was a potential cash flow problem for Perry Consultants.

There was a general mutterings around the table about C&G being their biggest client, using well over twenty percent of the company's consulting team. There was a discussion as to whether anyone had heard any gossip about C&G, and Phil Tremit had played golf with Leslie Goodman, their managing director on Sunday. Phil suggested that he thought that they were possibly in very early takeover talks."

Greg had been sitting listening to the discussion, angry with Paul for not telling him a lot earlier about a potential problem. But then Tom Gould, knowing what his boss would be thinking, leant into him to say that Paul had been reporting to him about the situation, and they were monitoring it closely.

It was time for a firm hand, Greg decided, "Paul, what percentage of our turnover is down to C&G?"

Paul looked up his notes, "Twenty-one point four percent."

"And their contribution to our gross profit?"

"Twelve point seven"

"So they are nowhere near as profitable as our smaller clients. OK. Where are we in getting tough with them?"

Tom spoke up, "We've issued our strongest and final warning letter already. Actually we are legally in a position where we could withdraw all our guys at a moment's notice, not that we would do that. Perhaps I ought to go and see Leslie Goodman and get him to cough up."

Greg looked at him, "No. It's time to play hardball. Remind them one more time that they are in default. But, if we have no money by tomorrow evening, then on Thursday tell our guys to report here on Monday morning, and not to go into C&G. If we tell our guys on Thursday, C&G will get to hear and that gives them Friday to get their act together and pay us."

His co-directors were suddenly worried that Greg was willing to throw out their biggest client, and he could feel the vibes of concern.

Greg looked around the table, at each of his co-directors in turn, "I don't mind giving a good deal to such a big and important client. We'll do all we can to help them. But, they have broken the bloody contract. I'm sorry, but they'd have our guts for garters if we broke our side of things and didn't supply the guys they need when they need them. They'll either pay up fast, or we'll discuss a new contract with them after the event."

Again, Greg looked around his colleagues, no one seemed prepared to speak against him. So he turned to Tom: "Tom, could you bring me a plan, sometime tomorrow, of what we do next week if C&G don't cough up. I guess there will have to be some lay-offs at some time, make sure that's the freelancers. I know that some of our best consultants took the extra money of being self-employed knowing we would contract them for years. Well they'll learn that there's a downside of being freelance, we owe our loyalty to the salaried employees first, and so the freelancers will be the first to go. But let's hope it doesn't come to that. OK?"

"Yes, Greg. But I don't like this situation. I think we could handle it a bit less confrontationally."

"It's not me who's breaking the contract with C&G. It's them. It's out of our hands. And anyway it'll give us the chance to put up our prices if they want to come back to us. Or we can use our better people with some of our smaller and more profitable clients." Greg looked around his board again, "Well, if there is no other business, let's close this meeting. Thank you, Gentlemen."

The meeting broke up, with Paul wryly remarking to Greg that it was at least the first meeting in months when Greg's retirement wasn't mentioned. Greg noticed that Phil Tremit was standing fairly close to him as he replied loudly enough for Phil to hear, "Well, it seems I've got to accept that you guys won't let me go. I've given up on suggesting anything else."

Greg just hoped that it would prompt Phil to start undermining him and ease him into retirement.

On the following Monday, Greg was working at his desk when Leslie Goodman burst into the room: "What the fuck are you playing at Greg? I thought we were friends."

"We were, and I hope we still are, but I can't afford to have guys working at your place when you aren't paying for them. It's as simple as that. You were warned, several times, both formally, and my guess is, informally as well."

"Well, yes I was, but I never thought you'd follow through on the threat. I thought I was too important a client to you for you just to throw it all away over being a few days late with our payment. Well here's your money, it's a banker's draft, so it won't bounce, and we can get back to where we were meant to be."

Greg took the proffered draft, and walked out with it to his secretary, "Give this to Paul for banking."

Greg returned to his desk and looked up and smiled at Leslie, "Fancy a coffee?"

"Yes please."

"OK, as soon as my secretary comes back. Out of interest, Leslie, why did you stop paying our bills?"

"Ah! Yes.... Well...... We were having a special audit done, and I just wanted to up our cash position a bit, if you understand, Greg. We lost a few invoices into a bottom draw for a little while."

"It sounds a bit fraudulent if you ask me, but that's your problem not mine. I had heard that takeover was in the air."

"Not any more it won't be if they visit today. We're basically at a halt without your guys."

"Well I remember telling you over dinner when we signed last year's contract, that you were a fool to rely on us so much. We're meant to be consultants and interim managers, not sub-contractors supplying all your essential staff."

"Well, yes. After this morning I guess I will have to give that some thought. Anyway, I won't wait for that coffee, thanks. If you could get your guys back after lunch, lets put this little hiccup into history, eh Greg?"

"I'm sorry Leslie, but they won't be there after lunch."

"But... But I've paid you what's owed. So you've got nothing to worry about."

"But you broke the contract. We don't have any contract between us, Leslie. And I've checked, your non-payment broke it absolutely. Kaput. We could negotiate a new contract if you wanted, but I warn you, I'll be upping the price. I see no reason to have you as my least profitable client when you don't pay your bills. But, look on the bright side, it gives you an opportunity to negotiate a deal where you can move towards being less dependent on us, if that's what you want."

"I could see my lawyer...."

"And spend a fortune, and he'll tell you the same as me, that the old contract ceased when you defaulted on payment. You broke it, not me. Now what do you want to do?"

Leslie stared at him and hesitated. Reluctantly, he admitted, "You've got me over a barrel, Greg. I guess I will have that coffee."

The Board hadn't liked what Greg had done with C&G, but they had to reluctantly accept that Greg had done it again! Everyone on the C&G contract were back to work after lunch that Monday, as an act of good faith by Greg, but the new contract was more profitable and better for both companies.

So, come the last Tuesday in September, Greg was looking forward to the Board Meeting.

He looked at his watch, it was just before two thirty, and he was the only one there. But then all the other Directors arrived together. That raised a thought in Greg's mind, he didn't know of any problem or discussion that he was excluded from, and Tom Gould hadn't warned him of any trouble brewing. But, something was up, Greg instinctively felt it, knew it. He waited whilst they got seated around the table. 

When they were settled, he leant forward to bring the meeting to order. But then Phil Tremit caught his eye, "Excuse me Greg. Before we start on the agenda, do you think we might raise something else?"

Greg leant back again, "Of course, Phil, what's the problem?"

"Well, first, I think we should congratulate you on your brinkmanship with C&G last month. I saw Leslie Goodman last week, and although he is licking his wounds a bit, he's quite chirpy about C&G's future and full of kind words about you. But there is another thing, some of us have been having a little talk, and we were wondering if you could clarify your own future, and any possible plans you may have for retirement?"

Greg thought: so at long last they want to talk about my retirement do they? Thank God for that! But they've got to go gently, I'm still the majority shareholder, and after last month, I'm a hero. "Well, Phil, Gentlemen," He looked around the table, many of his colleagues looked uncomfortable, looking anywhere but at him, "I think I've got plenty of time to think about my final retirement, I was only fifty on my last birthday. And I've still got a son at University."

Phil Tremit looked directly at him, all the others were carefully studying their papers. "Well, there have been times when you've mentioned that you may look forward to taking things a bit easier, and we thought it might be helpful if you could put some time frame about that, and some ideas on your possible successor."

"Well, I think you all know that I expect Tom to take over, when I do go. And, yes, I had hoped to come to this Board at some time to seek some arrangement which allows me to relax a little, but not before Jude is off my hands. I'd rather accepted it that you wouldn't let it happen."

Phil Tremit seemed to be their spokesman, "Well, none of us are looking to push you out, Greg. We all appreciate how you've built this company." There was a general mumble of support from everyone at the table for that, "But, we are beginning to think that the company is moving into a new phase of its development, and that maybe now is the time to hand over some of the reins to Tom. Perhaps you would give it some thought? No rush, but now might be as good a time as any."

Greg looked around the room, and thought. He guessed that the little C&G debacle had been more distasteful to some of them than he had expected. He always felt that a problem was an opportunity, like the problem of C&G which he'd turned into an opportunity, and this was an opportunity to please Susan and he wanted to grasp it in both hands.. If the Board were willing to do the right deal, then some holidays and adventures rather than work was in the offing. And the other directors' full approval would ease the minds of the outside shareholders and auditors. 

"Well, gentlemen, maybe you're right. I was thinking that I wouldn't even raise the subject again, after your reluctance last time, until next summer at the earliest. But, if you all think it is time for Tom to do more, well let me put a proposal to you." Greg paused, looking out of the window but not focussing on anything, he was collecting his thoughts. They are all probably relieved that he hasn't sacked them, they're grateful they seem to have survived this gentle but critical confrontation. They'll probably agree to more than he should have dared to ask for. "I could hand over to Tom this afternoon. He could become General Manager today. I would remain, but all the day to day stuff would be Tom's problems. Now, if you would agree that I could up my holiday allowance from whatever it is now, and don't ask me, I've never taken my full allowance for as long as any of us can remember. But if I could take twenty weeks, say. On my full current salary of course, then maybe would take the opportunity to partially step aside."


It Was Something in Her Voice



The directors all looked at each other, and then at Phil Tremit, waiting for his lead. "I suspect we are all a little scared to lose you, Greg. But, we think it's the right time for Tom to move up, but we had hoped you'd be around a little more than that."

"Oh! Don't worry about that. I want to do a lot more travelling with Susan. There are so many exciting places that neither of us have ever seen, and so many exciting things to do when we get there. But, with a satellite phone and an Internet connection in every hotel I go into these days, I'll always be contactable. All you need do is phone me, or email me. Get me the right phone and a new laptop and I'll always be with you. And anyway, except for public holidays, I'll be here for thirty two weeks of the year. How about a five year contract?" Greg looked around the room. 

The directors looked at each other, not sure what to say. Greg broke the impasse, "Look, I'll leave you for a few minutes. Talk amongst yourselves, and let me know. I'll be in my office." Greg stood up and walked through the double doors that led to his office. Tom left by the other door, saying "I think I should withdraw, as I could be a beneficiary of your decision."

Greg sat at his desk, smiling to himself. No one had questioned the full pay part of his deal. And he had expected to have to offer at least a twenty five percent drop in salary to get them to agree to this if he had proposed it without Phil having been motivated to raise the issue.

Within five minutes, Phil Tremit knocked on his office door, and asked Greg to rejoin the meeting. "Greg, I hope you will be pleased to hear that we would like to fully approve your generous offer. And I'd like to add my personal thanks for handling what could have been a very delicate conversation so tactfully."

Greg turned to Tom Gould who was just coming through the door, and slapping him on the back, "Congratulations, Tom, it's all yours." And there was five minutes general bonhomie all round before the meeting resumed with the original agenda.

After the meeting, Greg had a few minutes conversation with Tom, to arrange some immediate handover details, but put the majority of that off until the next day. Then he sat at his desk and allowed himself to daydream. Balloon Safari in Kenya? St. Petersburg? Railway through the Rockies? The Taj Mahal? River boat down the Nile? The Great Wall of China? Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco? A cruise of the Pacific? Drive across the Australian Desert to Alice Springs? Bungee Jumping in New Zealand? White water rafting somewhere? Hill Walking in Nepal to Everest Base Camp? Ah! Now that's more like it, something a bit challenging as well as the usual tourist stuff. After all he was only fifty, and very fit. Some adventure, that's what he needed, with Susan at his side, and now he had the money and time to do it. Life was definitely looking up.

His thoughts drifted to Susan, his life partner for twenty seven years and his wife for twenty five of them. At forty eight, Susan was still a sexy and fine looking woman. Maybe a little heavier than on her wedding day, she had to work hard to hold her weight. And he knew she had to visit the hairdresser more often than she once did to keep any grey hairs from ever showing. But he was still proud of her. She would be delighted that he'd honoured his promise to take things a bit easier and have more time with her, even if it wasn't full retirement. Tonight they would celebrate!

Greg decided that he would start his new life with a big surprise for Susan. No, with two big surprises for Susan. First, he'd go home early, that would be a surprise. Second he would book a two week holiday somewhere warm and sunny and romantic, where they could relax and really talk about their plans for their future. 

Greg got home at about six o'clock, with a bottle of Champagne in his hand and a confirmed booking for two weeks in the Seychelles in his pocket. He called out for Susan, but she was upstairs, saying she'd be down in a second. Greg put the Champagne in the fridge, and as he was coming out of the kitchen, Susan was coming down the stairs. 

Greg greeted her with a kiss as he took her in his arms. "Hi! Had a good day?" he asked, deciding that he would hold back on his news until dinner, a better setting to discuss the future, and to surprise her with the Seychelles trip.

"Hi, darling, what brings you home so early? Not that I'm not pleased."

"Oh, I'll tell you about it later. It was a big day for company politics. And at the end of it I decided to come home early." Greg answered as he headed into the sitting room. 

He sat down in his usual chair and noticed the television had a little red light on, it was on stand-by. Not really unusual, there was no reason why Susan shouldn't watch a little day time television, but she rarely did, and he was sure that he had turned it all off properly as he went to bed last night. Well, let's flick it on, he didn't usually get to see what was on at this time of day. It was on a sports channel. Now that was unusual. Not impossible, Susan might have watched some tennis if there was any on, but unlikely. The television came to life with a golf tournament somewhere in the world. They were about to take a tee shot, Greg's eyes became glued to the screen, he couldn't help but watch. 

"One of your boyfriends left it on golf." he said without much thought. Her fictitious boyfriends and his fictitious obsession with the fictitious blonde barmaid at the Golf Club were two of their private jokes. From within their secure relationship, it's easy to joke about such things.

"Oh! I let them watch it while they're waiting. You know, when there's a queue of them, waiting their turn with me in the bedroom." Susan replied.

In the coming weeks, Greg would go over that reply time and time again. Was it that she hesitated? Or that there was a slight inflection in her voice? Or a false emphasis? He never could work it out. But after twenty seven years of love and partnership he knew it was false. He just knew, it was something in her voice.

He stood up and turned to look at her. She stared back at him, slightly challenging him and trying to half smile. Eventually, she looked away, "How about a drink before dinner?" 

After twenty seven years of love and partnership, she knew when he knew she was lying. 

He continued to look at her, she turned to look back at him, and her face said it all. She looked shocked and guilty and hurt, all at the same time. There was a boyfriend!

Greg suddenly felt his stomach tighten, and his heart was hammering at the walls of his chest, But he found his voice first, "I'll go and pack some cases. We can talk later." And he just walked out of the room and upstairs.

He was just trying to get two suits too many in a garment carrier when she came into the bedroom. "Greg, we must talk. Please. I've been in such a muddle, my thoughts are in turmoil, but I know that I love you. So please Greg, let's talk."

Greg looked at her, there were tears pouring down her face, silently. "We can talk, in a few days. Then we can decide what we both want to do." He noticed that his voice was rasping with unexpressed emotion.

"Don't go, please Greg." She pleaded, stepping forward towards him.

For the first time in his adult life, Greg wanted to shout at her, genuinely shout at her, but he knew that would be alien to himself and to their whole relationship. "Who and how long?" was all he said.

"David Shiner, you've never met him." She whispered, but Greg heard it as if she was shouting.

"David Shiner? No, I don't think I have, but I'm sure I've heard the name, perhaps you have mentioned him. And?" Greg went back to stuffing the suits into the bag.

"And what?"

"And how long has this been going on?" Greg picked up a large suitcase and laid it open on the bed, and he went over to his chest of drawers.

"We met about four months ago, but we've really only got to know each other in the last month. And it's only been physical in the last two weeks." Susan's voice remained a whisper.

"Two weeks, eh? So how many times is that? One? Two? Three?" Greg asked, with an ugly edge in his voice now, although it remained soft and quiet.

"Four."

"Four. Oh."

Greg went on packing in silence. Susan just stood and watched, silent tears running down her cheeks. Both were silent, maybe neither knowing what to say. Eventually Greg had packed and zipped up the suitcase. He lifted it off the bed, and stood and looked at Susan.

"I'll go to the River House Hotel. At this time of year the season must be over, I guess they'll have a room. If they don't then I'll let you know." 

"Oh, please Greg. Please, let's talk. This is ridiculous, you can't just walk out on twenty five years of marriage without even talking." Susan had at least stopped crying.

Greg looked at her, "We'll talk in a day or two." She just looked at him, she was pale, red-eyed, and her mouth was quivering. "Do you love me, Susan?" he asked.

"Yes, Greg. I love you, you are my husband and my life."

"Well then, when we do talk, you can start by explaining to me how you reconcile climbing into another man's bed, not once but four times, with that professed love for me; with your own religious beliefs; with your wedding vows given whilst you stood at an altar and in front of our friends and family. Start by explaining that, Susan. And if you can't do it to your own satisfaction, then don't bother to even try with me."

Greg put the carrying strap of his suit carrier over his shoulder, and picked up his suitcase. In doing so, he pushed his suit jacket almost off his shoulder, and a white envelope fell on the floor. Susan bent down to pick it up, "What's this? You dropped it."

Greg glanced at it, "It's confirmation of a holiday for the two of us to the Seychelles starting in the week after next. I bought it for you as a surprise. I agreed my part time contract today. We were going to go travelling, to see the world, to meet new people and do new things. It seems you beat me to some of that, Sue. Pity!" 

He took the envelope in his spare hand and brushed past her as he headed for the stairs. He staggered down stairs and out of the front door, with Susan watching him, and just mumbling "Please...Greg...Please..."

Greg Perry checked himself into the River House Hotel. The receptionist seemed nice and cheerful, and Greg managed some small talk with her as they sorted out his room.

"OK. Thank you. I'll take my bags up to the room, but do you think you could do me a very big favour?" he asked

"If I can, Sir. What is it?" she was still smiling.

"Could you get the bar to have a very very large gin and tonic sitting on the bar, when I get down again in about three minutes. I need one urgently."

"Well, why don't I arrange for someone else to take your bags up to the room, and you go and get that drink straight away?"

"I love you." said Greg, and headed for the bar.

After that large G&T, and introductions to George, the barman, who Greg felt he was going to get to know very well in the next few days, Greg went into the restaurant. He ordered himself a simple steak, medium cooked, and with a side salad. And a bottle of decent red wine.

The steak looked good, Greg thought. But he really couldn't give it a full review, not on the basis of only two mouthfuls, and the salad was only checked to the level of Greg tasting one piece of tomato. The waiter watched him, Greg drank some of his wine and stared at the picture over the fireplace. 

Eventually, the waiter approached, "Have you finished Sir?"

Greg looked at him, a visitor from another planet, "Yes. I think so. You might as well take it away. My apologies to your chef."

"You're not hungry, Sir?"

"No, I've got rather a lot on my mind. Sorry."

"Well would you like something else, Sir?"

"No. I think I'll take that bottle of wine and my glass, and go and sit on your terrace and do some thinking. Is that OK?"

"Yes, Sir. But I think you'll find it rather chilly out there. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a frost tonight."

"Well, maybe the coldness will cut through to bring me some reality where food didn't." Greg smiled weakly and left with his bottle and glass.

Greg sat on a garden seat on the terrace, by the light of a few garden lamps. He was lost in thought. Questions went round and round in his head. Answers went round and round in his head. In that cycle some questions never got an answer, others got two or three different answers. 

He poured the last of his wine into his glass and with glass and bottle in his hands he strolled down to the river bank. The river was black and silent as it slipped along only lit by some distant street lights on the town bridge far off down stream. 

Greg began to feel anger rising in himself, not anger at Susan and this David, but anger at himself that he was getting nowhere in his thinking. He couldn't find any solid fact on which to start a logical thought process to what he should do next. Then somewhere from the gloom of the recesses of his brain came his business attitude. Susan had broken the contract!

He knew that he had 'loved and cherished' throughout his marriage. He thought, but was no longer sure, that she had. Certainly they had done the 'in sickness and in health' bit, thank God it had mainly been 'in health', the only sickness had been the occasional flu in winter and the common cold, and he'd sprained an ankle when he fell off a kerb once. He knew he'd 'forsaken all others', but she hadn't. She had broken the marriage vows, and the contract was dead. Divorce was only a matter of legal recognition of what already applied. The marriage was over, kaput.

That realisation cheered him up in some way, and to celebrate he threw his bottle into the glassy black river and could just make out it's slow drift towards the bridge and the sea, like some gentle, stately marker to his old life drifting away forever.

A problem is an opportunity. Susan and this David had suddenly opened up before him a total new freedom to choose his life from here onwards. What did he want? He could choose to try and reconcile with Susan, assuming she was willing to try, and they could call the divorce off. Or he could strike out on his own and build a whole new life. It was his choice, and except for an immediate, happy marriage, everything and anything was possible.

Greg walked back up to the bar, where he ordered himself a large whisky, and sat on a bar stool, watching George at work, and making small talk with him when he had a moment or two not serving. Slowly the evening crowd drifted to their beds, leaving Greg and George as the only two in the bar. 

Greg looked around, recognising that George probably wanted to close, he slid his glass across the bar, "Put a large one in there, and I'll let you close up, George."

"Certainly, Sir." And George poured another double scotch through the optic and returned the glass to Greg. "My guess is, Sir, that some woman has let you down. Am I right?"

"Does it show that much?"

"Only to professional barmen, Sir. Do you want to talk about it?"

Greg took a large slug of whisky, and stood up. "Not tonight, George. Maybe I'll bore you with it tomorrow night." He drained his glass and slammed it down on the bar. Belched, and staggered to his room.

Greg fell into a restless sleep, but woke early. He stood at the window, looking at the river in the dawn light. He knew that he had to face Susan, to tell her that he would start immediate divorce proceedings. Only after that could they start to consider their futures, together or apart. He also knew that it would take a huge effort of control to have a civilised conversation with her, and not a bitter exchange of insults. 

As soon as it was reasonable, Greg went down to breakfast. Now he was hungry, and he had a full English breakfast with plenty of cups of tea. Once he was finished, he strolled down to the river again, but purely for the privacy to phone his secretary and tell her he was going to be late to the office, but he didn't explain why.

Greg drove back to his house, a large and expensive house on the right side of town. Although he had a door key in his pocket, he rang the bell and waited. Susan opened the door, she was pale, her hair was a mess, she had no make up and she was still wearing a dressing gown.

"Hello, Susan. You look as if I've got you up. I'm sorry, maybe I'm a bit early."

Susan took one look at Greg, and stepped forward with her arms outstretched, "Oh, thank God! Greg!"

But Greg stepped backwards. It wasn't planned, it was an automatic reaction to shy away from this woman, once so well known and loved, but now a stranger. "I'm not here to make up, Susan. I just want a few moments of your time for a civilised talk."

Susan dropped her arms, and looked at him. "Yes, of course, I'm sorry." She turned back into the hall.

"Just a civilised talk, Susan. No hysterics. No tears. What is done is done. It is just a matter of what we are going to do now."

"Let's go into the kitchen, Greg. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Why not? Let's drink tea and talk about divorce. That sounds civilised doesn't it?" Greg sounded bitter, but then he was bitter.

In the kitchen it was Greg who set about making a pot of tea. Susan just sat at the kitchen table and watched him. She knew him well enough to know that she had no option but to wait until he talked. 

Once the tea was made and Greg had laid it on the table, with cups and saucers and milk, he sat down and just looked at her, the woman who represented twenty seven years of his life.

"Oh, Greg. I'm so sorry. You were never meant to be hurt by this. Please, I promise you, we can get over it."

Greg looked at her, he felt that strong urge to shout, to really tell her what he thought of her, to show how much he hurt. But what would that gain him? Nothing. "I don't need to hear your self-justifying whines. I said, I want a civilised talk. It won't help if you just sit and blubber about how sorry you are. Anymore than if I tell you just how much I hate what you've done to us, and how I hate what a lying bitch I think you are, to not just make a mistake, but to go back and repeat it and repeat it and repeat it. That was cold blooded deliberate determination on your part, Susan, to do permanent damage to a happy trusting marriage of twenty five years. But you know that...." Greg swallowed, he had gone further than he ever intended, he must get control of his words.

If Susan was pale before Greg's outburst, she was paler now. She gasped in shock, and then sobbed, with tears coming to her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Susan. That was harsh. Truthful, but harsh. But maybe unnecessary. OK. Wipe your eyes, we need to talk."

Greg quietly poured the tea while he waited for Susan to compose herself. He slid a cup across the table towards her, and sipped his own. 

Eventually, Susan blew her nose, and looked up at Greg. "You're right, Greg. I shouldn't be surprised that you think that of me, or that I don't actually know it myself. It was just hearing you say it. I'm sorry, I must have hurt you so much."

"Well, Susan, I've got a couple of questions for you..."

"Would it help if I explained a little of why, of what I felt with David?" Susan asked, quite gently, in almost a whisper.

"No. I don't need to know that. I'm not sure I even care. Just answer me a couple of questions. I am right in thinking that you knew exactly what you were doing when you went to bed with him four times?" There was still an edge of bitterness in Greg's voice, and Susan noted that he couldn't bring himself to even mention David's name.

"Yes, Greg. I did know what I was doing. I never thought you would find out. It was just something I wanted ....... No, needed to do."




It Was Something in Her Voice



"And was this the first time? Or is he just the latest in a long string of lovers over the years? Should I be having Melissa and Jude DNA tested?" Greg asked, quietly and deliberately, as he raised his eyes to look directly into Susan's eyes.

Susan lowered her eyes, "That's a horrid thought. That you should even think that of me. No, there have been no other lovers. For twenty seven years you have been the only man in my life. I promise you that."

"Well, I guess that's good to hear. But it seems to me that the result of your little affair is inevitable."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Susan, she instantly felt a premonition of what was coming.

"Susan, you broke the contract. As far as I can see we are no longer married. I will instruct a solicitor to start the divorce proceedings immediately. I don't know whether this will help you, free you up in your relationship with your lover, but I don't think we have any duty or responsibility towards each other any longer. The marriage was broken when you went to bed with him. You admit you knew what you were doing, and you confirmed it three more times. All we need do for each other is make sure that we make proper arrangements for splitting our assets, and for supporting Jude until he finally moves on."

Susan just stared at him, totally stunned by his words. No discussion, no questions of why she'd done it, or of how they might get over it. Just the finality of divorce.

"I don't want a divorce, Greg." Susan's voice was raising, in desperation, "I love you and I want us to remain married. I've lain awake all night. I know what I've done, and I know we can get over it. I know it won't be easy for you, but I know you will see it through. I know you won't walk out on all we mean to each other, the wonderful children, our life, our friends..."

Greg looked at her, "Well, once the divorce action is well underway, maybe we can meet and talk about what happened and what we each want in the future. If we both want to be married, and we can get over it, then we can call the divorce off, but at the moment, I feel you've imposed it, I don't have a say in it. You broke the marriage, and divorce is the inevitable result. That's where we are today. It may change in the future, but not until we've both done a lot of clear headed thinking."

Greg looked at her, "Actually, I don't really know whether you had plans to run off with your lover boy. Or whether you fancied spending your mature years being some free spirit, free love and I don't know what. Maybe you don't really know yourself. That's why we need some time to do some thinking."

"No, Greg. I have never imagined myself as anything but your wife, and us moving together to a happy old age. I don't need any time to know what I want in the future."

They looked at each other, both wondering what was going on in the other's mind.

"Well I'm sorry Susan, but I do. Now, as you know, I've got a holiday booked in the Seychelles. It was meant to be the start of our new life together. Now I'll go alone and use it to think about what my new life should be like, and if I want you to be my partner in it."

"Couldn't we both go, and use it as a way to bring us back together? I know it might be painful, but surely we need to be together, not on opposite sides of the world to each other?"

"No, Susan, we can't. I'll go and maybe I'll come back with some better thoughts. In the meantime, I don't know what you are going to do about your lover. Maybe you want to continue your affair for just one last time, or maybe you hope I'll learn to tolerate it. But, be clear about this, if you do want us to have any hope of getting back together, then you will telephone him immediately and tell him it's finished. So, are you willing to promise me that you will never ever see that man ever again?"

"Oh, yes, Greg. I promise that, happily and willingly. It wasn't his fault, it was something we both did, but I never ever want to repeat it with him or anyone else. I promise. I phoned him last night and told him that I never want to see him again."

"OK. Well, let's go down that line of thought a bit further. I know that in all my jumbled thoughts and emotions since last night, I am full or hate and revenge against him. I could happily kill him. I don't care whether you gave yourself happily and freely, or whether in fact he chased you and seduced you, it doesn't matter. He chose to climb into bed with a woman who claims to be happily married. Is he married, by the way?"

"Yes, he has three children."

"Well, if his wife ever finds out, then I guess you can expect to feel the same depths of hatred from her. But that isn't my concern. What I want to know is: if I decide that I want to exact some revenge on this man who has deliberately involved himself in the destruction of everything I love and believe in, will you join me in that? Will you help me destroy his life, if that is what I want? Are you willing to do that to help get me over this, and win me back, Susan?"

Susan gasped again, realising the terrible emotions she had unleashed in Greg, "I don't know, Greg. It's so unlike you. I don't like seeing this side of you. And David isn't some wife cheating bastard, he's a nice guy who made a mistake, like me. That's all, he doesn't deserve to have anything nasty happen to him."

"No, Susan, you were right the first time. A wife cheating bastard is exactly what he is. And he deserves everything he gets.....But I don't know what I'll do about him. You're right about me as well, I have never deliberately taken my revenge on anyone ever before. But perhaps this will be the first time......"

They sat and drank their tea, in silence. Both of them deep in thought.

Susan broke the silence, determined to have one last attempt at reconciliation, "Come home, Greg. Even if you sleep in the guest room. What do you think people will say when they realise that you've moved out? And then we could talk, I could explain...."

"No, Susan. First of all, I don't give a damn what people think. And I'm saddened that in all of this, that's one of your first concerns. And second, at the moment I don't need you to explain anything. You did it, you freely chose to do it. Not once, but four times. And you admit that you knew exactly what you were doing every time. You knew that you were betraying me, and our marriage, and everything you've ever professed. At the moment, that's all I need to know. Now I have to decide whether I want to live for the rest of my life with a person that has done that, or what it is I can salvage of my life from the mess you've created."

Susan just crumpled to tears, and Greg quietly stood up and left.

Greg arrived at the office and immediately told his secretary that he was now living at the River House Hotel, and why. By the end of it she was weeping, and through her tears, asked Greg if he knew what he was going to do. "Yes, start divorce proceedings. Then think about what I want after that. That may include reconciliation.".

Greg's day was made up with a series of short meetings with Tom Gould, as Tom constantly referred to Greg on various issues, as Tom picked up the reins of the company. In between these meetings, Greg made a few phone calls around the town. First to his lawyer, to arrange an appointment, but he couldn't get to see him until the next day. 

Then he started phoning old friends and colleagues, just gently asking after a David Shiner, did anyone know him? Who was he? With an hour or two, Greg knew David's address, that he was apparently happily married with three children, that he was about forty years old, and most interesting of all, that he worked for TMD Electrical. So, after lunch, Greg phoned Ed Maskill, the managing director of TMD and an occasional golfing buddy of Greg's. Greg invited him to a quiet drink at the River House Hotel after work.

Greg was chatting to George when Ed arrived. After their greetings and some business small talk, Greg brought the conversation to what was on his mind, "I asked you here tonight to have a quiet word with you, because I have a favour to ask you. I'm sorry to have to tell you that Susan and myself have split up, whether temporary or permanent I don't know yet, but we've got our problems at the moment."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Greg. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, not directly. But you can keep an eye on Susan for me. You see, she's had an affair, and as you are a regular at All Saints, I guess Susan may seek the support of the Church as she works through her thinking. Well, I'm sure that tongues will start wagging in the regular congregation, so I thought I ought to tell you directly. You know, so that you can put anyone straight if the rumours are too hurtful for her, protect her a bit, that sort of thing."

"I'm on the Parochial Church Council, so you've come to the right man. I hope she will be treated with decent Christian charity. But, the Church isn't going to give a blessing on that sort of behaviour, if what you tell me is true."

"Oh, yes, it's true. A short affair with a bloke called David Shiner. I don't know him, but she does, rather intimately by all accounts. She doesn't deny it."

"David Shiner? Good Heavens. He works at TMD you know. He's been with us for about eight or nine months, in our Marketing Department."

"He works for you, does he? Well, I guess he's got to work somewhere." Greg reacted with innocent surprise.

"Yes. And he's married too. A lovely wife, I met her at the summer barbeque. And some children, two I think, but it maybe three. Well, there's not much I can do about it. You know as well as I do, Greg, that we can't delve into employees' private lives these days. But I don't like this sort of thing, I do have some morals you know, that's why I attend All Saints." Ed paused to look at Greg, who was apparently listening, but seemed surprisingly relaxed, "Well, I may not be able to sack him, but if it's any consolation for you Greg, I'll be damned if he's going to get any promotion on my watch. And it was due, there was talk of making him Marketing Director. Well, over my dead body. Sorry, Greg, but I don't like this sort of thing."

"Well, I'm not too fond of it myself, Ed. Not from where I'm sitting." said Greg with a wry smile, that he hoped covered his inward feeling of mission accomplished, and more easily than he was expecting.

After Ed had left, and Greg had actually eaten his steak this time, he returned to the bar, to sit on what was rapidly becoming his favourite barstool.

As the bar slowly emptied George had more time to chat to Greg, and Greg decided to tell George his troubles. Between serving the occasional other customer, George listened patiently. At the end of his story, Greg looked at him, "And how many times have you heard that story?"

"This year? Three times. You're the fourth. And I'll say to you, what I said to all those other guys, life is what you make it."

"And how the hell is that meant to help me?"

"Well, if you want to make it back with your wife, then don't doubt that you can. But, if it was the final straw, then go out there and make yourself a different happy life. It's up to you, life is what you make it."

"The wisdom of barmen."

"Hey, don't knock it. Just drink to it. This one's on the house." And George poured Greg another whisky.

On the Thursday, Greg saw his solicitor and told him to start divorce proceedings. The lawyer pressed him quite hard that he should really try reconciliation first, at least sit down and talk to Susan and hear her story. But all Greg would do was to get assurance that the action could be called off if that was appropriate, but that he felt that at the moment the marriage was broken, and divorce was the natural consequence.

After seeing the solicitor, Greg decided that some financial precautions would be sensible. He set up new bank accounts, and had his salary paid into his new personal one and not the joint account. He tried cancelling some of Susan's credit cards, but that seemed easier said than done.

One thing kept nagging at Greg. The destruction of David Shiner's career wasn't as satisfying as he'd hoped. He still felt pure anger towards that man. He could understand and even accept the anger that he felt towards Susan, that went with the hurt and despair. But towards David Shiner there was nothing but anger. Eventually, on the Saturday morning he could not resist driving round to David Shiner's address. He pulled up in his car outside the neighbour's house and sat and watched. David Shiner was mowing the front lawn, up and down in stripes. He looked exactly as he imagined him, a totally average man in his early forties, not too fat but probably a little heavier than when he had been in his twenties. He had less hair than Greg had imagined, with a pronounced bald spot at the back. But, he looked an average regular guy. How looks can deceive, thought Greg.

As he watched, a woman came out and went to the garage, she backed out a family estate car, this year's model according to its registration, but Greg realised that wasn't surprising, Shiner is in a new job. Having parked the car on the drive, the wife disappeared into the garage again, and then two boys, in their early teens Greg estimated, came out and collected two bikes from the garage and cycled off, calling that they would be back for lunch. His wife came out again, with a trowel, and knelt down to weed a flower bed. The whole scene had a wholesome domestic innocence about it. And that made Greg even angrier.

Greg got out of his car, and approached.

"David Shiner?" called Greg.

Shiner stopped his mowing and looked round. Greg was walking up the drive, nearly to the parked car. 

"Yes, I'm David Shiner." said Shiner, leaving the mower and walking towards Greg. The wife stopped weeding and just knelt watching with interest.

As Shiner came to Greg, Greg said, quite loudly and clearly, "I'm Greg Perry. Susan Perry's husband."

Shiner's face drained of every ounce of blood. He glanced backwards at his wife, who was beginning to stand. He was still looking that way when Greg's fist hit his face. Just once, but very hard, just to the left of Shiner's mouth. 

David Shiner lurched sideways and fell against the car, his shoulder catching the mirror, so that when he slid down onto his crumpled legs, everyone could hear his shirt ripping. There may have been no blood in his face, but there was plenty in his lips and gums. Blood just poured from a split lip and his mouth. 

Greg just turned around and walked steadily and determinedly back to his car. Mrs Shiner ran to her husband, shouting "Hey", but she just crouched over her husband holding his head, as Shiner put a hand up to his mouth, and taking it away he looked at it, covered in blood.

Greg sat in the driving seat of the car, and suddenly he began to shake. His whole body shook, and then he began to cry. But through his tears he watched Shiner and his wife, she was talking, but he couldn't hear what was said. But then she was hitting Shiner, giving him a rapid pummelling with her clenched fists. The truth hurts, thought Greg.

Slowly he recovered and drove off, back to the hotel. George was behind the bar, "A whisky, please George."

"You look rather shaken, Sir. Is everything OK?"

"Yes, I'm OK. Feeling better actually, but my knuckles are just a bit bruised." Greg said, with a tense smile.

"And he has a matching nose, I assume, Sir."

"I think it was his lips and mouth, but you get the idea."

"Well, then that whisky's on me, Sir."

After lunch, Greg lay on his bed and listened to soft classical music on the radio. He felt more at peace than he had felt in days. And he decided that he was now free to really think about what he wanted in the future, rather than just be a mess of emotion about what happened in the past.

As the room began to darken with the setting sun, and with soft music still gently playing, Greg's phone rang. He picked it up and looked at it.

"Yes, Jude. What can I do for you?"

"Hi Dad. What's going on between you and Mum. I've just phoned her and she's a complete mess. I had to give up talking to her in the end, I just couldn't get her to talk sensibly. She says you've left her, and that she's done something terrible. I don't know whether that's before or after you left. As I said, she seemed too upset to really talk."

"Well, Yes, Jude. She was right, I have left her. I was wondering how I was going to tell you and Mel. She seems to have saved me the trouble."

"So? What's it all about? You can't just walk out. I just can't imagine it. Dad."

"Well, I hate to tell you, but that is precisely what I did when I found out that your mother has been having an affair. I guess that's her terrible thing. I'm sorry Jude, but it wasn't of my making."

"No. Dad. You must have it wrong. It's just not like Mum to do something like that. Come off it Dad, she just wouldn't."

"That's what I thought. But we were both wrong. His name is David Shiner, and she's known him for four months apparently. And she's been having an affair with him for about a month. She swears differently, but for all I know they may be at it right now. This may be the love of her life. I don't know, Jude. And to be honest, I don't think I care."

"No, Dad. May be she let things go too far once, or he pushed her into it, or ... I don't know, something. But from what I heard this afternoon, she certainly seems to regret it now. Don't just give up on her, surely you can't?"

"This afternoon I've been doing some real thinking. And I think I have a choice. But the first thing is that I have accepted that your mother has torn up our marriage. She broke the contract. I have to admit that it is hard to understand, after twenty seven years you think you know someone, and I'd never have dreamt that she would do this. Yes, she might get unhappy or tempted, but to do this is against everything she believes in. But I have to accept that she did it, and I have to decide how do I want to spend the rest of my life."

"With Mum, surely, Dad? You can't really imagine a life without her, can you? Not really, when you think about the long term. Not now, not this week, but somehow as you look into the future."

"I'm having to, Jude. I'm having to. Oh, yes, I'm sure we could work something out. It wouldn't be easy, it would be a long, slow and painful process, but we could work out something if we both wanted to. And I don't know that she does want to, I asked her but she hadn't had the time to realise what a horrible period that would be. But, let's say we did, well what have I got then? Some sort of partnership which might work for most of the time, but where I would know that I was worth less than a quick romp with this David Shiner in her eyes. That's with us for ever, now. It was her choice, and it won't go away however hard I or any therapist or counsellor or your mother tries. Twenty five years of our marriage was worth less than an affair with another man. That's a fact, Jude. Now, is that the sort of woman I want to spend the rest of my life with? I don't know."

"Oh, Dad!... Who is this David Shiner, anyway?"

"Well I don't know him. But what I know of him, he's a perfectly average marketing manager. He's a few years younger than your mother, and he works for TMD here in town. You mother says he's married with three children."

"What's happening to them? Does the wife know?"

"I think she does now. And I don't think they'll be kissing and making up for a few days. Well, not the kissing bit, his mouth is a bit sore"

"You didn't Dad! Not you! What happened to all your ideas that you always taught us about respecting other people and that violence never solves anything?"

"I guess I left out giving you the chapter on exceptions to the rule when we were bringing you up. Sorry about that. And, anyway, it didn't solve anything, but I felt one hell of a lot better at the end of it."




It Was Something in Her Voice



"Good God! I don't know what I think about that. My Dad hitting someone. I know that if every man round here who gets upset with the other guy when some girl two times him and he gives the interloper a split lip, then there'd be a run on first aid products."

"Yeah, that's the way it's meant to be when you're twenty. When your fifty and you've been happily married for twenty five years different rules apply."

"Does Mel know?" asked Jude after a pause.

"No, I guess your mother or I should tell her, but she's in Spain at the moment with Carl. I think she's back at the end of this week. Your mother will know the exact date."

"Do you think I ought to come home? I can, it'll mean I miss a few lectures, but no one will mind, given the circumstances."

"Well, unless your mother actually needs you, I wouldn't. I'd love to see you, but I think your mother and I have a lot of thinking to do, and no one can help us with that." Greg sounded resigned to a lonely task.

"Well, if you're sure. Look after yourself Dad. And you will tell me, as soon as you two decide what you're going to do, won't you?"

"Of course. Now you just get on and enjoy yourself. That's what your meant to be doing. And don't worry about the future. Whatever happens, your mother and I love you dearly. Both you and Mel."

"I know that Dad. That's what makes all of this so ...you know."

"Yes, I know. Don't worry. Bye, Son."

"Bye Dad."

Greg closed his phone, but sat staring at it for some minutes. Talking to Jude had helped more than Jude would ever realise. He now knew what the question was, did he want to live with a woman that had valued him and the marriage so low? Everything else, the why and when, the anger and hatred and hurt were all transitory. At the end of the day, Susan would always be a wife who had broken her vows and his trust in her. Could he live with that? Did he want to learn to live with that?

Greg relaxed, he knew the answer would come to him, answers always did, in time, and he'd given himself a good few weeks until he returned from the Seychelles to clear his thinking.

It was the Thursday of the following week that found Greg sitting on his bar stool, watching George, and feeling pretty low. He didn't feel like eating, but he sat on a barstool, drank a bit, but not too much, and watched George and the customers come and go. 

Towards closing, George said "You seem a bit down this evening, Sir."

"Yes. Well .....Once upon a time I had a wonderful marriage to a pretty wonderful girl, and now... How do I live happily ever after?"

"What you really need, Sir, at a time like this is a really bad bad girl."

"Why? Do you know any?" asked Greg, smiling and half interested.

"Of course, it's part of my job, Sir."

And so it was that Greg was saying goodbye to a pretty girl in her mid-twenties on the Saturday morning when Melissa came through the hotel door.

"Melissa!" Greg greeted her with a hug and a kiss when he saw her, "How was your holiday?"

"Oh! It was great. But I never expected to come home to this. I spoke to Mummy yesterday morning and she was so upset that I came down last night. What's it all about, Daddy? And who was that?"

"That was a girl called Chantelle. Or that's what she calls herself on nights like last night. She's a call girl, and I called, or more accurately George the barman called on my behalf. Actually she's a single mother and a nurse at the hospital, just supplementing her earnings with generous gentlemen, as she called it. But she was the first time I've ever paid for sex, and she'll probably be the last. Why does that upset you?"

"Oh, Daddy! How could you? You are still a married man, and how could you do that to Mummy?"

"Look, I've made my decision about your mother. I'm sorry, but divorce is the consequence of her actions, not mine. Beyond a proper and fair settlement, I don't owe her anything. And Chantelle was the first of my new adventures. I've got a lot of living to do. I thought I would do it with your mother.... not the Chantelle bit, I guess I wouldn't be doing that bit.... but all the rest that life can bring. But, there you are, this is the way this cookie crumbled, maybe I'll reconcile with your mother, and maybe not. In the meantime I have no intention of giving up on all the fun life can bring."

"But you can't really be going to divorce her. You can't. I go away on holiday with a pair of happily married parents, I come home to this. And Mummy is so sad. She knows she got it wrong, she really does. Can't you find a way, please Daddy? Don't split up the family over this, please."

"Look, Mel, let's go into the lounge and have some coffee. This must be a dreadful shock to you. It was a bit of a surprise to me. But, this is the way it is. Come along, Darling, let's go and talk."

And that's what they did. Melissa could offer no explanation of Susan's behaviour. She was just struggling to accept what was happening, and trying to find a way over or around it. But Greg was regretful but adamant, and Melissa knew that once her father had made up his mind, then there would be no changing him. And, in all honesty, she could see no real reason why he should change.

Then, on the following Tuesday, just as Greg was leaving work at the end of a full day, as he walked through Reception on the way to his car he was approached by a man. It was David Shiner. Greg couldn't help himself, he glanced at the security cameras, making sure there would at least be a record of what may be an ugly scene. But David Shiner recognised Greg's thoughts, "It's OK Mr Perry. I just want to talk, just for a few minutes, please."

Greg looked at him, but before he decided anything, again David Shiner spoke, "It's alright. I've no hard feelings about....." and he raised his hand to touch a yellowing patch beside his mouth.

"You may not have any hard feelings, I'm not sure that I don't." answered Greg, still looking hard at Shiner. "OK, five minutes, in the pub over the road."

Greg led the way, without a word. He ordered himself a whisky and looked at Shiner who asked for a half pint of beer. Once served, Greg led the way to a table and they sat themselves down, opposite each other.

"Well?" said Greg.

"Well, first, let me apologise for my part in breaking up you and Susan. It was certainly not my intention." He paused, waiting for a reaction from Greg. When there was none, he continued, "Susan phoned me at the weekend, it was the first time I'd heard from her since she'd called me on the Tuesday evening when you found out and she shouted at me that she never wanted to see me ever again. This time, she phoned to say that you were divorcing her, and that she wasn't sure whether I wouldn't get caught up in that, and that my wife might find out."

Again Shiner paused, and Greg said, "Well that was thoughtful of her. But how does that concern me?"

"You know that my wife knows about Susan, you saw to that. But, as I talked to her I realised that Susan is a totally broken woman. I talked to my wife about it, I've learnt to do absolutely nothing without talking to my wife, that's one thing this mess has taught me, and we decided I should see you and ask you to at least talk to Susan, I really do fear for her sanity."

"Thank you for telling me, but we reap what we sow. Susan has chosen not to be my problem. I'm sorry for her, of course, but there is nothing I can do."

There was silence between them, both just staring at each other. Greg broke the silence, "Has your wife forgiven you?"

"I don't know about that, not yet. After you called by on that Saturday, well I spent the night in the car. But on the Sunday she let me back in the house, at least to talk. We can't afford for me to run up a huge hotel bill, so I'm sleeping on a camp bed in the study. And we are talking, sort of. I think she will at least agree to some counselling, whether that will get us over it I don't know. I know I want it to, I love my wife very much, Mr Perry, very much."

"So, why did you have an affair? That's not the sort of thing that loving husbands do."

"No, it isn't. And I shouldn't have. I guess life was just a bit too much at the time. I had changed my job, I'd got my family to move here, dragging my wife and boys away from their friends. My wife had to give up her job to move. My children have had to move school, and they aren't particularly happy. We've taken on a huge mortgage, so money is tight. And I've got a new job where I've got to impress. And I seemed to have failed in that as well."

"Why?"

"I came here as the Marketing Manager at TMD, but on the understanding that they may appoint a Marketing Director some time in the near future. The carrot was there, dangling. Well, last week, the Personnel Director took me on one side to tell me that they have decided they will be advertising for a Marketing Director, but that there would be no point in my applying. This was all off the record, of course, but he said that there were aspects of my private life that senior management found disagreeable. Senior management means Edward Maskill, maybe you know him?"

Greg couldn't help himself, "Yes, I do. We meet occasionally for a chat." 

David Shiner looked at him with a very questioning look in his eyes, Greg gave him his best poker face. There was a long pause.

"Anyway, I guess my excuse was stress." Shiner continued, "I met Susan, we got on well, and I found her very attractive, and I guess she was a refuge from all the pressures. It wasn't really meaningful, not to me, I don't think it was to her either. But I don't really know why she did it, from her point of view. She certainly knew it had no future, it was a little affair, no more than that."

"I thought it was just something like that. I never really thought it was anything particularly significant in that sense. Its significance was the betrayal of our marriage. Twenty five years of total faithful love from both of us just thrown away. I have to accept that that was her choice."

"Totally faithful love? That isn't what Susan implied to me."

"Maybe that was her way of excusing herself to you. She's never had any reason to doubt me or think I had some woman on the side."

"What I do know is that she loved you very deeply, and that she is now a broken woman. Please Greg, if I can call you that, please talk to her, give her another chance. I was shocked and worried about her when she talked to me."

"I will talk to her, but I doubt whether it change anything. And I won't do it for two or three weeks, I'm off to the Seychelles for a couple of weeks tomorrow. It was a holiday that I booked for myself and Susan, and it seems a pity to waste the whole ticket, so I'll go alone. I loved Susan with all my heart, I probably still do, but divorce is the consequence of her choices, not mine. And I've made my decision. Maybe, later, we will talk and find a different route, but for the moment the divorce stands." Greg just looked at David Shiner. Then he knocked back the final dregs of his whisky and left.

And so Greg went on holiday to the Seychelles, very conscious of the empty half of the king sized bed in the hotel bedroom. But he still found some enjoyment, and the sun and swimming were good. On many evenings he would stroll along the beach deep in thought. There was no escaping it, he longed for the security of a loving partnership. He wished, with all his heart, that Susan hadn't betrayed him and their wonderful marriage. But she had. For some unknown reason she had decided that a few hours of sexual pleasure in bed with David Shiner was more important than he was. Maybe, at least he should know why. Maybe, if she could really convince him that she regretted it, that it was just a moment's madness, then maybe he should do his best to try and find some way back. He really didn't know. What he did know was he hated his current loneliness almost as much as he hated what Susan had done. 

So on his return, he phoned Susan, "Hello, it's me."

"Oh, Greg, it's good to hear your voice."

"Well, Sue, I need to see you. How about tomorrow evening? At the house, if that suits you."

Susan went quiet, he could almost hear her thinking of whether she dare ask what this was about, was this the start of putting things right? But, she remained neutral, "Of course, Greg. I'll cook something. Come for dinner. I'll cook your favourite."

"No, Sue. I'm coming to talk, not to eat. Seven thirty at the house, then. OK?"

"Yes, Greg, I'll be here."

And so, on the next evening, they sat facing each other in the sitting room of the family home surrounded by so many pieces of furniture and art that they had bought over twenty five happy years. They just sat in silence, looking at each other. Greg thought, 'God! She looks terrible!' He wasn't sure whether he was secretly pleased, or sad, or concerned for her. Maybe David Shiner was right, she really was depressed. 

Susan was getting more nervous by the second, Greg was trying to find the words to start a conversation that might close such a large chapter of his life.

He thought he'd start by picking up on when they last spoke, it would at least give him the upper hand, "I guess we have a lot to talk about, maybe including agreeing the financial settlement if we can. We do have a divorce going on you know."

Susan gasped, she stared at him in disbelief, "You can't! No. This is wrong. You said we would talk and we haven't, you can't just end it like this. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry that you found out the way you did. I regret it so much. But you can't just end it, Greg. You owe me more than that."

"Yes I can, Susan. Yes I can. I doubt whether there is anything you can say, there is no explanation that you can offer that gets over the fact that after twenty five years, twenty seven if you count the two years we were together before that, you valued our marriage so lightly that you were happy to go to bed with another man, not once but four times. I don't think I want to be married to someone who treats twenty seven years of loyal love that way. I'm sorry."

Susan's eyes were now glaring indignantly, "I contributed something as well. It wasn't all one way you know. I've had to put up with things, live with what I had, and once, just once, I had a relationship with someone else that...yes, happened to involve me going to bed with him four times, but was really just one small period of madness in twenty seven years. You aren't being fair, Greg, you haven't even talked about it."

"You're right. I should give you a fair chance to have your say, in fact I want you to have your say. Give me some good reasons why I should stop the divorce, that I can be sure of a good and happy future with you."

Susan looked ameliorated, that he had conceded to hear her story, "I knew you would be fair and hear my side, cheating like that was never your scene."

"Cheating?" The word made Greg angry, "If you mean to imply that I have cheated sexually, then you're wrong. I've never even come close to going to bed with another woman, not in all our years together. I've never even had the sort of relationship with another woman where that might be remotely possible. If you mean, cheat on you by working long hours, by travelling away from home on business. Then, yes, I guess I did cheat you out of some of my time, but I promise you for every minute of it, I would have preferred to have been here, at home with you and the children. But I was trying to build the sort of future that I thought we both wanted. We always discussed it, and I thought we always agreed about the business and my career. I remember that we agreed I'd never travel for longer than two weeks at a time, and I never have. I thought it was that joint understanding of what we were doing that made our marriage special."

Susan looked at him, wide eyed and slightly shocked. "No Greg, I'm sorry if you think I was upset about the business and your career. I knew how hard you worked for all of us. I'd never accuse you of that. Never."

There was a long silence between them, broken by Susan asking, "Should I tell you I did it. Does it matter to you?"

"I'm not sure. I feel you crossed a line, of your own freewill you chose to break all we ever had. There was no excuse, it was a hard fact. I'm only reacting to what you did, Susan. I'm still not sure I do need to hear if you thought you had some excuse, because there was no excuse. But, I did say .... and if it helps you....."

"So what about the times when you crossed that line, Greg? What about those times?"

Greg looked at her, astounded. "I just told you, I never crossed that line. Not once did I ever even get close to it. What made you think I ever did? And if you had doubts, well, why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"I did. But you just had excuses or lies to worm your way out of it."

"When?" exclaimed Greg.

Susan looked at him, but paused before she answered, "Do you remember that summer party at Tom and Julie's when the children were very young."

"Tom and Julie Braithwaite? We'd been married about five years, in fact just under five years, I remember it well. Why?"

"You disappeared for the best part of an hour. And when I asked you, you just said that you were talking to someone in the house. Well I knew you weren't, I looked for you. And everyone was talking that the Braithwaite's au pair had been seen disappearing with some man in a blue car, and we had a blue car at that time. Well, about a week later, Jill Woodhouse told me that you were bragging at the Golf Club about your little conquest. Her husband John had told her. Well, that was the first time I noticed you and your little escapades." Susan looked pleased with herself.

Greg looked at her, choosing his words, "Well, I didn't lie to you. Do you remember what Tom Braithwaite did for a living?"

"Yes, he was a car salesman."

"Yes, precisely. And he and I spent about three quarters of an hour in their bedroom, while I did the paperwork on buying that little red mini that I gave you as a wedding anniversary present the next month. We could hardly afford it, and it had to be done with finance, which is why it took so long. So, Yes, I was talking to someone in the house. And you drove around in that mini for years, it's the first car that both Jude and Mel ever remember, it's part of our family's history."

Susan wasn't convinced, she didn't dare let go of her belief, "So, why did Jill Woodhouse tell me you were bragging about it at the Golf Club?"

"I don't know. But knowing John Woodhouse's record, I would guess he needed something diversionary to tell Jill. They had a blue Ford at that time, if I remember right."

"Oh. God." Was all that Susan could say.

"But if that worried you all these years, then why didn't you say something?"

"I guess I got into the habit of being the stoic wife. You know, holding the family together for the sake of the children, despite a philandering husband. And you did philander didn't you Greg? Maybe not that time at that party. But when you travelled on business, don't tell me you never wandered."

"But I didn't, Susan. Not once. For twenty seven years I loved you. I thought of you so many times every single day of those years, at home, at the office, but possibly most of all when I was travelling. I promise you, I remained totally faithful. I've already told you that."

"And how about when you weren't even known at your hotel in New York when I phoned. You had the cheek to tell me your hotel and you didn't even stay there." Susan glared at him.

"I told you when you asked, when you met me at the airport when I got back. Susan, there is more than one Hilton Hotel in New York. You must have phoned the wrong one. I told you then, and I still believe that's what must have happened, because I told you I would be staying at the Hilton, and I certainly stayed at the Hilton."




It Was Something in Her Voice



"So you say! And what about that Sunday a couple of months ago, maybe a bit more, in June?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, but I can promise you it was not what you seem to be thinking."

"It was a Sunday, and I had a flat tyre on my way to Church. So I hoped you'd come back from golf and rescue me. Well I know you never have your phone on you on a Sunday. So I phoned the Club. The Steward said you were definitely not there, he had seen your foursome go off as a threesome without you."

"Well, if we're talking about the same Sunday, then he might well have done. I was late, but I caught the guys up on the first tee. I'd stopped by at Phil Tremit's house for a quiet word. I knew that Phil wanted Tom Gould to take over sooner rather than later, but I knew the rest of the Board were reluctant to let me go. So, I happened to drop by for a quiet word, when I told him that I was only fifty and I had plenty of enthusiasm to go on for as long as the Board wanted me to. He didn't like that, but it took him longer than I expected. In fact, it took him three months, but I was right, eventually Phil did get the support he needed to let me to take that part time retirement on good terms, just like we both wanted. And I didn't tell you because I didn't want to give you false hope. I thought it better to leave Phil to do his dastardly work in peace."

"Oh. God! I'm so sorry Greg. This just makes my mistake with David all the worse."

"Yes, I guess it does. But while we're talking about it, why don't you explain what was so wonderful about him."

"Well there is no real reason. I was lonely and bored. And I was angry at you that you still hadn't retired like you promised. And I was sure you had wandered in your time, even as recently as last July. So, when I got into a close rapport with an attractive younger man, who seemed to find me attractive which was very flattering, it was easy to let it go too far. It was never serious. Oh, I'm so sorry." And Susan crumpled into a new bout of tears.

Greg passed her his handkerchief. He had nothing to say. He was stunned. For twenty years, his wife, his soul mate, his partner in everything, thought he was a cheating bastard. That was the depth of her understanding of him. He was hurt, insulted and angry. He already had doubts as to whether he could really forget what she had done with Shiner. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to stay married someone who treated their marriage so cheaply as Susan had done. But now he realised that she thought so badly of him. For over twenty years she had thought him a cheat, on a regular basis apparently, and she had so little respect for herself that she'd accepted it.

"Well, Susan. If you're telling me that your excuse for all of this is that you misjudged me, that you haven't talked honestly about your worries and fears over twenty years, then I'm sorry, but however sad it makes me, I think I'm better off out of it." 

Susan looked at him, through her tears, "Please, Greg, let's try counselling. So that we can understand each other better. I'm so sorry. I do love you and I want you back."

"No Susan, you love a cheating bastard. Maybe you are noble for being able to do that, or maybe you have so little self-respect that you could put up with it, but you don't love me. Instead, you misjudge me and cheat on me."

As he spoke, Greg stood up. "Goodbye Susan, and the best of luck in your future life."

And Greg walked away from Susan, his home and a very large part of his life. Greg was a very sad man when he returned to his hotel. Somewhere, deep inside him he had been harbouring the hope that Susan did have a real excuse, that she would say something that would drag him back from the brink. Instead she'd insulted him and seemed to think that going to bed with another man was just an unfortunate hiccup, not the betrayal he felt it to be.

As he sat on his bar stool, George glanced at him, "Looks like you need me to phone Chantelle again, just to cheer you up."

Greg looked up, "I saw my wife tonight, and I told her I was going to go through with the divorce. I guess I should be happy, this is the first night of my second bachelorhood. And I've got so much to do, and so much to decide. I guess I'll need somewhere to live, I can't go on living here."

"Why don't you have a word with management, if you want somewhere a bit more independent, they've got a couple of self-contained apartments outside. They use them for self-catering holidays in the season, but they'll be closed up until next summer now. I reckon that they might be interested in doing you a deal for a few months, and you could use the dining room and this bar whenever you wanted. A sort of halfway house to your new life, Sir, how about it?"

"That sounds a good idea, George. I might well have a word. Somewhere to take the ladies as I enjoy my freedom, eh?" Greg smiled weakly, but he felt empty inside.

He spent Christmas in Thailand, a non-Christian country where he thought he might take refuge from too many reminders of the family life he had lost. And it made it easier for Melissa and Jude to stay with their mother, without torn loyalties.

There was some delay in the divorce as Susan's lawyers tried to earn their fees by arguing about the proposed settlement. But when that began to drag on, Greg had a word with Melissa and Jude, and they had a word with their mother, and the settlement was agreed quickly after that.

At Easter Greg found his new home, a week after his divorce was finalised. A country house hotel in a little village just outside town had gone broke, and a developer had bought it to turn into luxury apartments, but keeping the hotel swimming pool and tennis courts and pleasing grounds for the benefit of the new residents. Greg took a very pleasant two bedroom apartment on the second floor. 

Having moved in there, Greg started to use the local shops in the village. And he literally bumped into a rather attractive looking woman in the local post office one day. The following week he joined the queue at the check out of the local grocer immediately behind her, and they exchanged pleasantries. Pleasantries led to having a coffee in the local coffee shop. Her name was Mary, and she was a widow with twin sons, and she was forty two years old. Her sons had left home to be in their first year at University, and she now had more time on her hands. Friendship grew into a tentative relationship, but it took over a month before they went to bed together. Then they tried a long weekend in Prague, and they both enjoyed it. So they tried a whole week in Madeira, and that was a very happy time for them both.

In July, Jude graduated. And he and Greg went off to drive across America in a five week trip. Greg had invited Mary rather than Jude, but she wanted to be at home for her two sons returning from University. So it became a boy's trip. And they had a good time, getting closer than ever before. Jude would just squeeze Greg's arm or hand when Greg went quiet having observed that some sight would have interested or pleased Susan. But, on the nights when Jude took a break from his father, and went off to find younger company in bars and nightclubs, Greg found himself thinking of Mary as much as he did of Susan. But he also knew that, as far as Mary was concerned, he came a poor second to her sons.

Almost as soon as he got back from America, Greg was planning his next trip. He had found an organised hill walking trip to the Andes in Peru, to walk some of the Inca trails to some of the ancient sites, including Machu Picchu. It involved some hard walking, and sleeping in tents and he thought it sounded quite exciting, but Mary was not impressed. Greg was beginning to feel that not only were her two sons more important to her than he was, but now he began to suspect that she was a five star luxury hotel type of tourist. He could understand that a single mother would be very committed to her children, but nevertheless, coming second bruised his tender ego. And his doubts about Mary weren't helped by knowing that Susan really enjoyed both walking and roughing it a bit. Like him she thought that doing something completely different to their safe comfortable lives added something exciting. For the thousandth time he wondered if he had done the right thing in divorcing Susan.

In the end, after a long and expensive dinner, he got Mary to promise to at least think about coming to Peru with him.

Then Melissa and Carl announced their engagement. To celebrate, Greg decided to give a small party in his new apartment, with Mary acting as hostess, and her twin sons coming along for the first time, to meet Jude and Melissa. And, after some nagging from Mary, Greg agreed to invite Susan. 

As the day of the party approached Greg found himself getting more and more nervous about seeing Susan again. His relationship with Mary was good, but she wasn't Susan, and he was doubtful whether she would ever become as important. With Mary everything was new, exciting but not easy. And he really didn't want to have to play father to two young men he hardly knew. And he knew that she wasn't nearly as adventurous as he. The whole thing didn't give him the security, the comfort that twenty five years of marriage had given him. But, if she agreed to come to Peru, well that would help.

What didn't help was Jude: Over a pint in the pub one evening, he had been quite clear that he hoped that Greg would drop Mary and find his way back to Susan. "She still loves you Dad, I've told her to really fight for you, so give her a chance when she does."

Greg and Mary's party was the first time Greg had seen Susan since the fateful conversation that had decided him on divorce. He was shocked when he saw her, she had put on a considerable amount of weight, her hair was grey and lank, and her new dress was cheap and didn't tailor her new figure at all well. 

Greg was the busy host. Carl's parents and his married sister and her husband had come along and the room was full. Whenever he could, Greg watched Susan, but she had hardly spoken to him all day, and she seemed to be hitting the bottle a bit harder than he liked to see. 

Late in the day, Mel took him on one side to say that Susan was crying, having taken refuge in the bedroom. And then Jude joined the conversation, and both he and Mel thought it was time for his father to at least talk to their mother.

Greg walked quietly and slowly into the bedroom. Susan was sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping her eyes, but Greg noted the glass of gin and tonic sitting on the cabinet. "I guess it's a bit of a rough day for you, Susan. But I'm glad you came."

Susan looked at him, Greg waited patiently for her to say something.

Eventually, she found her voice, "Yes. I knew I had to face it sometime, but it just reminds me of all we've lost. Don't you feel that too, Greg."

"Yes and No. Yes, we both lost a lot in what you did. But No, an engagement isn't a sad day, and Carl's a very nice guy and he does love our Mel a lot. And I think their engagement can mark how good life can be in the future for all of us, even after.. you know."

"Maybe for you. You seem to have quickly found my replacement."

"You sound so bitter....."

"Well, why not? I've got a lot to be bitter about. I devoted myself to a husband, brought up his children, and once, just once, I made a mistake and had a little relationship of my own, and what does my loving husband do? He doesn't try talking to me, he doesn't try to understand, he just walks out and divorces me. He goes off to travel the world, and lead the good life with his new little whore....."

"That's enough! I thought you were better than this. OK, life has dealt you a blow you didn't want or expect. The same is true for me. But it can still be a good life. And if you don't like your life, well it's up to you to put it right. But if you go on just being bitter and angry, and drinking too much, then there's a place at 43 Manvers Street that might suit you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's a place for people who don't help themselves when life goes wrong. Personally, I won't have anything to do with it." Greg looked at her solemnly, but then just walked back into the party.

Mary didn't go to Peru. She knew it was a critical decision, but she didn't want camping and hard work types of adventures. So Greg went alone. He met a woman called Brenda who was Australian and on the same trip. They had some good sex, from the second night onwards in fact, but there was no real relationship, and at the end of the trip she returned to Australia and Greg to the UK with only vague promises to meet again, promises that they both knew they wouldn't keep.

On his return, Greg took Mary out to dinner, but they both knew that their relationship was dead. At best, they would remain friends, but nothing else.

Without Susan or Mary, Greg was a lonely man. He put a brave face on it for the outside world, but there were too many nights of sitting alone at home, thinking about an empty and pointless future. His only hope was planning new trips, maybe he could entice Jude to come on another trip soon. Greg would be happy to pay, but Jude was a new boy in his job, and he didn't have a lot of holiday allowance. 

It was a couple of months later that Jude came to stay for a weekend, and on the Saturday night Greg took Jude out for a good steak at the local pub. But however persuasive Greg had been, Jude had turned down the opportunity to spend a week in Iceland driving a route across frozen lakes with his Dad. They returned to Greg's apartment for a nightcap, which was followed by a second nightcap, and a third....

As Greg poured the fourth brandies, he asked "How's your mother?"

"Still going downhill. She looks awful and is definitely drinking too much. But I get fed up with lecturing her. She really needs you Dad. Are you sure that there is no way back? You've got no one, and she really did love you, you know that, and I think she still does..."

"So what happened to her fighting for me?"

"She was meant to. It was one of my lectures. If she loved you and wanted you, then why didn't she go out and fight for you? But she's just too busy being sorry for herself..."

Greg handed Jude his brandy and sat down. Jude stood up at the same time, "I must go to bed." And he took a gulp of brandy, and turned towards the door.

Greg ignored the fact that Jude was heading to bed, "At the time, I really did wonder if I should forgive her that stupid affair. But then she told me that she thought that I'd been an adulterer, having I don't know how many affairs, for the whole of our married life. I found that insulting, very insulting, it seemed to make our whole marriage a sham. But it also showed that she had no self-respect if she thought she was putting up with that for years. How could I love and respect someone who doesn't respect themselves?"

Jude took another sip of brandy as he turned to look at his father, "How's your self-respect, Dad, now that you've achieved your lonely life?"

"Oh, I'm OK. At least I can look myself in the eye in the shaving mirror every morning..."

Jude waved backwards at his father, and walked out towards his bed. He didn't hear Greg continue in a soft voice, "... but you're right. My life fucking stinks! I've done everything right, I've kept my self-respect, I've acted honourably.......and I've ended up as a lonely sad old man with no one to love or to love me..." Greg sat nursing his brandy and watching his tears drip into the glass.

END