30 comments/ 144081 views/ 46 favorites Back to Bristol Ch. 01 By: Back to Bristol Ch. 01 Having unpacked and inspected the flat, I went out to look around. On the way I stopped in the lobby to introduce myself to the porter. I was rather pleased, I hadn't ever lived in an apartment block with a hall porter before, even if they were only there for the daytime and not evenings and nights, like this one. There were a lot of rather nice coffee shops and bars close by. I stopped and read the menus and prices, and of course, this close to the University, they were all reasonably priced, students are always poor the world over. I found a little supermarket and bought myself some essentials, like some beer and bottles of wine. I also bought some frozen pizzas and lasagnes, but really my plan was to eat out by trying out some of the local eateries. Of course I also bought some good quality breakfast foods, well you never know when you might have a guest for breakfast! I staggered back to the flat with too many heavy bags, and stocked up the little kitchen. I'd bought myself a sandwich, so I made a cup of coffee and sat and watched one of the news channels while I ate. Well, as I was back in my home town, I should really announce my residency. And there's no time like the present. I could phone Molly and talk about the boys and getting to see them. I dreaded making that phone call. But anyway, weekends are precious family time, or they were when I was there, I guess it would be a tradition that's continued in my absence. I won't disturb them. However much I want to be back in the boys' lives, I don't want to interfere with their living in a stable and loving home. They deserve and need that. They lost their Dad once, they don't need him making waves now that he's back. Beyond the exchange of Christmas cards, I haven't been in contact with anyone in Bristol since I moved away. And because of the divorce I lost contact with a lot of them well before I actually went to London. I decided to give Keith Walters a call. Keith was probably my closest friend at one time. We both worked for Cheals International Management Consultants before I went off to join ITI at ITI-Jamesons. After that I tried to avoid any Cheals' employees, they thought that an ex-colleague now being the MD of a major local firm would mean lots of juicy consultancy projects for them. It all got a bit embarrassing, and avoiding them seemed easier. Then came the break-up of my marriage, and I certainly didn't need a bunch of old colleagues telling me how I got it wrong. So I didn't see Keith or his wife Anne for some time. We had been good friends, they lived quite near us until we moved to the new bigger house. They had one son called Daniel, he was eight years old at the time. When he was born there had been some complication and Anne didn't dare risk ever having another pregnancy, so Keith had a vasectomy, with a lot of ribald comment in the office. But, in the same week as my decree nisi was declared tragedy struck: Daniel was killed in a road accident. A neighbour had collected both Daniel and her own son from school one afternoon. A lorry on the opposite carriageway had a tyre blow, and it jack-knifed. The mother walked away with just some bruises from her airbag. Her son was badly injured, and there was a lot of talk about him having to lose a leg, but it was Daniel who died four days later in hospital. Well, with the state I was in from my own problems I couldn't comfort Keith as I should. Of course I went to the funeral, so did Molly. That was the last time I saw her as Mrs Molly Bennett. A few weeks later the Decree Absolute was declared, and five weeks after that she was Mrs Molly Davies. We did talk at the funeral, just a few words about the tragedy of Daniel's death. She did leave me thinking she wanted to say something more, but she never did. A 'sorry' would have been nice. Anyway, I gave Keith a call which he answered immediately: "Keith and Anne Walters." "And this is a voice from the past. It's Chris Bennett here." "Chris! How good to hear from you. Where are you?" "Back in Bristol." "Great. Are you here long enough for us to get together?" "Well I'm here for the foreseeable, so I would guess Yes to that. Any chance for tonight? Anne can join us, it would be good to see you both." "Sorry, not a chance. We're a bit busy here and big things are going on. But I could make it tomorrow night. Anne's going off for a week to stay with her parents. I'm putting her on the 6:18 train tomorrow evening. So, how about six thirty-ish somewhere?" "Great. Tomorrow night it is then. You suggest where, I'm out of touch with the best places around here, I've been gone too long." "OK. Do you want to eat?" "Might do, it depends how the day goes." "Well I suggest there is a nice little Italian bar and restaurant about forty yards down from the Theatre Royal and on the opposite side of the road. It's called Il something or other, but you can't miss it, it's painted in the most revolting fluorescent lime green colour. But it's pleasant and the food's OK." "See you there then. Oh, you better have my mobile number" So I gave him my number and rang off. I then went out for a drive, checking out my route to Franks and just to look where I was to go. I pulled up outside and sat and watched. There were a sprinkling of cars in the car park, but the place looked fairly quiet. It was a grand Victorian factory or warehouse, but it had obviously been revamped to be rather swish modern office and factory. There was one big sign: 'W R Franks & Sons Ltd. - a member of the TDF Group serving the world'. Well that will be going pretty soon. There was a maintenance guy working on the wall just to the left of the main office entrance, I couldn't really see what he was doing. But then he stood up and stepped back to admire his work, a paintbrush in one hand and a pot of paint in the other. He was admiring the writing on the wall 'RESERVED' and then my car registration number, for this Jag! That surprised me, someone had been co-ordinating things between London and Bristol. Mind you, I'm not sure I liked it, it was a bit too elitist for my style, but at least I knew I was expected. I sat in my car thinking about all I knew of Franks, which wasn't much, and how the first few days of my reign were so important to define my style and build the team to create our future. It was going to be hard work. It would be good idea to make sure that I was as well briefed as I could be, so I went home and spent the whole evening re-reading all my briefing papers.. I woke early on the Sunday, showered and went out and bought a paper and found somewhere to eat breakfast whilst I read it. Eventually I retuned to the flat, made myself a cup of coffee and continued to read the paper for a while. Then I set about reading the Book of Genesis, it seemed appropriate, it was Sunday after all. One glance at Chapter 1 told me that I probably knew most of it by heart, I just didn't know I did, it's a bunch of memorable quotes strung together. So I started at Chapter 2, I was looking for an appropriate quote that the Old Man might have used. I got as far as Chapter 7 before I thought I might give up, I was sure it was an early chapter. I started again, reading each verse out loud so that I could consider it. I spotted it at Chapter 3, verse 23 and realised my mistake. It was mid-afternoon, and I needed to get out of the flat. So I took a nice long walk that would get me to this Italian bar and Keith for six thirty. I walked around to Brandon Park and climbed the hill to Cabot's Tower, built to commemorate John Cabot's voyage from Bristol to America in 1497. The views were fading with the light, but the fresh air did me good. As I approached The Old Vic, or Theatre Royal as some people call it, from the west, I saw Keith walking up the street. He spotted me and waited outside what truly was a horrid coloured bar frontage. We both shook hands and slapped each other on the back in a sort of hug at the same time. We were both firing questions at each other, pleased to be reunited. Eventually, we went in to be greeted by a waiter. Were we eating or drinking? I looked at Keith and suggested we might eat later. He sensibly suggested that we might eat with the second bottle if drinking wine was OK with me. That sounded like a plan. Having told him that I was back in town as the MD of Franks, now proudly owned by ITI, I got onto his life and what was happening there. Much to my surprise, he told me he was leaving Cheals on the coming Friday. "I thought you were going to be there for good. What's changed?" I asked. "Well, after Daniel's death, life was pretty miserable for a long time. We expected that. Someone wise said to me 'You never get over the death of a child, you just get used to living with it.' And they were right. About a year ago it was the third anniversary..." I thought that was about right, I knew I was just coming up to the fourth anniversary of my actual divorce, of course the bust up was some months before that. ".. and Anne and myself had a long chat. We couldn't have more children, and actually we didn't want anymore. It would have seemed like we were trying to replace Daniel, and that would have been a betrayal of his memory. But although we were over the shock and the grief, life had lost its sparkle. We got up in the morning because the alarm went off, not with enthusiasm for the new day. So we decided that we should make a big change." "To what?" I asked, as I was obviously meant to. "Well, Anne had gone back to work after Daniel, she's a fully qualified nurse and she went into the Paxton Clinic, they almost let her dictate her own hours, which was a good way back in. And I was still at Cheals. So we did wonder about a change in lifestyle sort of thing. You know, three goats and growing organic vegetables type thing. But that isn't us. We both want careers and the good life, we always did. So we started looking around the world for somewhere warm and sunny, where we fancied living, and where we could both get jobs." "And you've found it?" "Yes. We really wanted Cairns in Australia, somewhere really hot and sunny. But we could never get two jobs organised. Anne got offers, but there wasn't much for me. But, just over a month ago we got matching offers for San Diego in California." "Great. It's certainly warm and sunny there. And it will be getting warmer with global warming. So, assuming the San Andreas Fault holds together, and San Diego isn't last seen sailing off into the Pacific, what are you going to do?" He smiled, "I guess that's one way we might see Hawaii." Then he paused and looked serious, "Anne's got herself a job in a small hospital, actually on the admin side, organising the nurses which suits what she wants. And I'm to be the new Executive V-P of the San Diego office of Winfler Electronics. Seventy eight geeky computer guys to look after." "Great. That'll be a hell of a shock for you. From consultancy to being boss man. It was for me when I went to Jamesons. When does it all happen?" "Well, Anne's given up work already and is off to her parents for this week. I guess that'll be fairly tearful, so I'm glad I'm not there. I'm quitting Cheals on Friday. You must come to my piss up. It'll be at the Lord Raglan as usual, and a lot of people will be pleased to see you. Anyway we have one more week after that in the house, and then it's sold. On the Friday night we go into a hotel for a night. Then on Saturday the vicar is saying a few prayers with us at the grave as we say goodbye to Daniel. We both hate that bit, leaving him behind. But then we go straight to the airport and California here we come." "Well, I can only wish you well. Of course I'll miss you, both of you, Anne as well. With me coming back I had hopes of some good evenings, but I can understand that the sunshine of San Diego beats Bristol anytime." "Well, what have you been doing since we lost touch? I assume that was because I was being fairly anti-social, Daniel and all that." "Partly, I wasn't exactly a party animal myself for quite a while after Molly gave me the big heave ho. So it was as much my fault as yours." "You'll have to tell me what happened, if you want to that is. If you don't want to talk about it, then that's OK to." He looked into my eyes, questioning but sympathetic. "We'll see, when we're on the second bottle. Although actually, I'm not going to drink too much of that. I'm starting a new job tomorrow remember. I'll see you again before you go, and I'll happily get pissed with you then, but not tonight." He poured two more large glasses of wine, and held the bottle up to the light. This one hasn't got a lot more in it. I'll order another one and how about some bottled water to go with it?" "Yeah, and when they bring that, I'm going to order some food. But there's no hurry. How about you?" "I'll choose something light, but I'll have something. Now tell me, what have you been doing?" So I told him a little about working at Jamesons for about another fifteen months after the divorce. "I found it really tough going in the early months. You'll find this, Keith, when you get to San Diego. When we're consultants we swan around looking at systems, listening to ideas, checking numbers, and we have grand ideas about strategic issues. And we make recommendations and walk away. When you're the top man, every little shitty issue lands on your desk. And everyone wants you to take all the bloody decisions, then it's your fault not theirs if it goes wrong." He smiled, "Now you tell me, when the house is sold and the plane tickets are booked." "Well one good effect of Molly deciding the grass was greener was that it turned me into one of the biggest bastards, most short tempered bosses ever. Don't fucking bring me silly little worries that some girl on the 4th floor hasn't come in because her boyfriend dumped her last night, just sort it. Don't ask me to take decisions that you're paid to take, assuming that you don't want me to actually do your job and declare you redundant. If you can't meet the target, well maybe I'll find someone who is capable of doing the job properly." I paused and then smiled evilly, "And of course, if some people have to me made redundant, well I'd be delighted. They aren't good hardworking souls trying to do their best for their partners and kids. They're all probably screwing around on each other, not giving a damn about anyone, so why should I care about them?" Peter looked up, "You weren't a bit bitter by any chance?" "Bitter; hurt; angry; you name it." I smiled. "It's OK, I'm over it now." "But...?" "But it did mean that in the second year I hit every target, we met every success criterion that HQ had set. I was not only the youngest, but I was the best performing MD in the Group, and the blue-eyed boy of ITI. My success is based on Molly fucking up my life." I concluded wryly. "So what happened next?" "Well, as the blue-eyed boy, I was summoned to London to join the International Consultancy division. I doubt whether there was anyone in Jamesons sorry to see me go, I feel a bit guilty about what a bastard I was to them all. I don't work like that anymore, I achieve results in kinder ways. Anyway, for a year and half after that I lived out of a suitcase. It was always easy to send the bachelor, he didn't have family to worry about. I saw a lot of the world, met all sorts of interesting ladies, but it was no way of life. So I created hell at HQ, and they found me the job in Holland. "Tell, me, what's ITI like?" "It's huge. But our structure is lots and lots of medium sized companies, each run fairly autonomously, and all controlled within one of four divisions: Food, which is where Jamesons and NDF sat; Property Development; Energy and Financial Services. And now the start of the fifth division, Health. And, if I'm lucky, that'll need a Divisional Director sometime in the next few years." I smiled. "Oh Chris! Haven't you run out of ambition yet?" "Sorry, Keith. But no way, not yet. I'll let you know when I do." I answered with a smile and took a swig of wine. "Let's order some food." Once the waiter had left with our order, Keith asked "What does ITI stand for anyway?" "Well it used to be International Technical Industries, but these days its just ITI. Do you know, some people make out other meanings, like Is That It or Institute of Total Ignorance. I've even heard that some people have come up with suggestions that are rather rude." Keith smiled, "Good Heavens, what naughty people! I am shocked" We laughed, and then he asked, "Who's the chief honcho?" "Stephen J Parkinson. He's hell of a nice guy, tough as old boots and has taught me a hell of a lot. And you need a Bible to work for him." "Religious?" "Not particularly, or not that I've seen. But equally, I haven't seen him do anything particularly immoral either. No it's just that he has this ability to quote Bible references to suit every occasion. He'll go into a meeting, and none of us, including him, would know how that meeting was going to turn out. Yet, right at the end, he'll quote a Bible reference, Corinthians Chapter 22 Verse 43, assuming there is one, and we'll all go running to our desks and look it up. And you can bet your bottom dollar it will be appropriate. When he sent me down here, he finished the conversation saying Genesis Chapter 2 Verse 23. Do you know what it was?" "No." "You Heathen! I'll tell you, because I wrote it down,...." And I fished a bit of paper out of my pocket, "....'Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the Garden of Eden to till the ground from whence he was taken.' I suppose it was fair in the world of ITI for Stephen to consider himself the Lord God, but with no stretch of imagination can ITI HQ be thought of as the Garden of Eden" Keith laughed, "I know John, 11.35" "Yes, that gets used a lot at ITI. Jesus Wept. It's the shortest verse in the Bible." After that the food arrived, he asked what my love life was like now. "Non-existent, but if you meant my sex life...." And I told him a couple of anecdotes of my wild period. I twisted them to present them as macho stories, and Keith laughed, but I'm pretty sure he saw the sad little episodes for what they were. I did tell him a little about Helene, just to show him that I'd calmed down and was on the straight and narrow. Once I'd finished eating I went for a pee. When I got back to our table, the dirty plates had been cleared and there was a new bottle of water waiting. Keith was happily sticking to the wine. After a period of silence between us, he asked: "Going to tell me about it?". "Why?" was my only reply. "Because it's more interesting than me fretting about the fact that in almost exactly two weeks I'll be in a country that I've only ever visited for about six weeks in my life, starting a new job, in a new company, in a function that I've never done before, and my whole life depends on it all being a success." I conceded, "OK, I'll try. It's all a long time ago now." "I guess that you would have noticed that something was going wrong. But you and Molly certainly gave the impression that you were well matched and happy." "Well, I thought we were, and some. I've reconsidered some of the days that led up to the break, but it really all came out of the blue one weekend as a complete and total surprise." "So, what did you notice and when?" I paused and chose my words, "I've already told you I was really quite stressed and felt myself under pressure at work. Well Molly was great, the girl that had stood beside me when I took my accountancy exams, and then went on to put up with me when I did my MBA, must just have got tired of the support role." "Just tell me what happened, not your conclusions." Back to Bristol Ch. 01 "Yes, sorry. As I said, I was very stressed. Part of the solution, or I thought so then, was to work harder and longer." I glanced up, but before he could say or even think anything, I said, "I know what your thinking: that I just lost my family to work. Well I didn't, I put rules around myself. I always insisted that we had family breakfast, although I did move that forward by half and hour, but it meant I did see the boys everyday. I always made sure that I got home in time for a meal with Molly, normally at about seven thirty and never later than eight o'clock. Then we would watch a bit of telly, or she'd do her crossword and I might read some business papers. I never did any computer work at home so that I wouldn't cut myself off into the computer, and I never went into the office at weekends. I thought that, considering it was tough times, I was keeping to the right side of reasonable." I shrugged. "Travel? Nights away and entertaining?" He asked. "Not much. Maybe a couple of nights per month in London. And maybe another couple of nights a month taking someone to dinner, but I managed to take Molly along on about half of those occasions, and she was great making polite conversation with some buyer from a supermarket and his wife. I don't believe that was the problem." "And how was Molly in that time?" "She knew I was tired and stressed, I never hid it from her. And she was great, she kept everything calm at home, she always had a lovely dinner waiting for me in the evening. She always dressed nicely and looked great. She made sure weekends were kept clear to be a family time with no chores. She even took over my job of writing the weekly email for my Mum in Melbourne, just to take another job off my hands." "And did you say thank you?" "Yes I did." I said, somewhat indignantly. "I bought flowers, I took little presents home whenever I spotted something she'd like. I told her I loved her --- often! And I used to say thank you about once a week for all she did. I've always been a good boy like that." Keith hesitated: "How about the bedroom, if I dare ask?" I smiled, I had no problem answering, "Great. She was always there for me. I don't think Molly refused me once in our whole married life. We had a rich, varied and plentiful sex life. And she was as eager as I was, pregnancy times excepted. I would guess three or four times a week at about that time, which considering we had two young children I didn't think was bad." "Oh." Keith looked disappointed. "So when did you see something going wrong?" "Well, I guess I misunderstood it at the time, but about ten or eleven days before blow-up day, she seemed slightly over the top in mothering me in the evening. I did register that I wondered if my stress was beginning to spill over onto her. I wondered if her job at the Hospital was getting too much." Keith frowned, "She's a dietician, isn't she?" "Yes. And she was working at the Hospital part time, about fifteen to twenty hours a week. But I know she always felt some involvement and responsibility for some of the patients. Maybe I hadn't cared enough about that, I don't know." I paused, to give him a chance to ask any question. When he didn't, I went on: "And then that weekend the boys seemed very clinging to me, do you know what I mean? Everything was Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. If Ben needed his food cut up, then Daddy had to do it. Daddy had to read the bedtime stories, you know the sort of thing." "Yes, I know." He sounded sad in his remembrance. Then he saw my look, and said, "It's OK, you get used to being hit by sadness." And he smiled weakly. "So, I thought the boys are the problem. However much I've tried, they've missed me. So, for the next week I made sure I was in early enough to at least read them their bedtime story. But Molly still seemed a bit off, distant but very caring towards me. Anyway we get to the blow-up weekend. I remember packing my briefcase on the Friday night at the office, filling it with papers to read. Then I thought 'Sod it, family comes first' and I purposely went home without it." "Good boy." Keith muttered. I ignored his patronising comment, "We had a great family weekend. On the Saturday we went to a Disney film and then out to a restaurant. It was Ben's first ever trip to a cinema, he had to sit on my knee to watch it, and even then he fell asleep. But it was a great warm family feeling, I promise you. And after we'd got the boys to bed, and had something to eat ourselves, we went to bed early - if you know what I mean." I looked at him, Keith smiled and nodded, so I went on, "And we almost did it again on Sunday morning, except Ben woke up and started making a general nuisance of himself. Anyway, on that Sunday we took them down to the beach at Weston. I built sandcastles and we ate ice creams, and Jamie rode on the donkeys. It was great day out, and I'm sure everyone loved it." "So, when did it go wrong?" "Well, I had noticed that the boys were still very much Daddy's boys. A couple of times I had to correct them for what was almost minor insolence to their Mother. And I really didn't know what was causing it. So, after I'd put them to bed and read them their story, I came down stairs, poured a couple of glasses of wine, and started to try and talk about it to Molly. I wondered if this was just a stage they were going through, or had she done something to upset them, or what? I just didn't know." "And...?" "And after a lot of delving and talking and refusing to ignore it, with her saying 'they'll just get over it' or 'they've been a bit troublesome lately' I got to what I thought was a truth when she admitted that she'd been a bit hard on them recently, and had been shouting at them. So she was the rotten Mummy and I was the good Dad. So, now I knew, but that only raised more questions, and I teased away at it, and she got more and more short tempered and agitated, and she was almost in tears at one point. Then she said it: 'There's been someone else.' Well, if you want a conversation stopper between a married couple then that's it. There's a sort of pause while you re-marshal your emotions and get your head around that little gem." Keith smiled, but was listening intently. I took a sip of water. I smiled, "Choose any invective you like, associate it with a couple of really good profanities, and I'm pretty sure I threw it that night, and at fairly high decibels. She was sobbing her heart out about how she felt so guilty, and how she never wanted to hurt me. That's why she'd been so short-tempered with the boys for the previous week. And, yes, she had had sex with him, at his flat down by the waterfront. Eventually, I asked if she loved him. Somewhere along the line I'd learnt that his name was Peter Davies and he was doing some research at the Hospital. Actually I think I gave her a simple choice, did she love him or did she open her legs for every randy researcher at the Hospital? She said she had 'deep feelings' for him. To be honest, that totally deflated me. I felt utterly defeated, my whole life had just slipped through my fingers. There was nothing left to say, I just went to bed." "What did you take her to mean when she said she had deep feelings for him?" "Precisely what she said. That he was very important to her. Probably more than that, I assumed she would ease back a bit from the truth for my sake, to make it easier for me. I guess I assumed she loved him." "Anyway, go on. What happened next?" "I went to bed, she came up about half and hour later. She was still in tears, and saying how sorry she was that she'd hurt me. All I did was tell her that she wasn't welcome in any bed where I was. She should take her things and sleep in the spare bedroom. I think that hit her very hard, it really came home to her at that point that we'd suddenly got to the end. Then I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering all sorts of thoughts. And I could hear her crying in the other room." Keith was thoughtful for a moment before he asked, "I guess I should ask: Did she have any reason to maybe think you might be playing away? A serious affair maybe, or just one night stands. You've told me that that is exactly what you did after the break-up." "Of course I've thought about that. I can certainly say there was nothing like that whatsoever in my life. But did she think there might be? Well, how do I know? She shouldn't have, because there was nothing." "OK. Sorry, but I thought I should ask." "Look, Keith, I don't want to make out that I was Mr Perfect, because I know I wasn't. Some weekends I was too tired to have two little boys bounce all over me with too much healthy energy. I know I took far too many work papers home to read. And I'm sure Molly had a long list of things I did wrong. I always wore jeans at the weekend, she was always sending me up to the bedroom to dress a bit smarter for whatever we were doing. The funny thing is that I don't even own a pair of jeans now. She also used to tell me that I wasn't in touch with my emotional side, just because I don't cry. Actually I did fill up a bit in the Delivery Room when both the boys were born, but it's not the sort of thing you make a show of, is it? Oh, and I hate gardening. Her father loves his garden, so I guess she grew up believing that that was what the man of the house did." "None of that would seem to be a hanging offence." Keith smiled. I returned his smile, "I didn't think so, but maybe they pissed her off enough to let a randy bachelor into her life." "So what happened the next morning?" "I got up early, I couldn't sleep anyway, and I had hopes of just slipping out of the house. But she followed me down stairs when I came out of the bedroom. She looked awful, and was still sobbing that she was sorry. I just walked out, sometimes being sorry isn't enough." "OK, what did you think she meant by being sorry?" I looked at him, and paused to choose my words, "It can't be easy for someone falling in love with someone else. Of course they're sorry for the poor schmuck they're leaving behind. Of course she didn't want to hurt me, we'd been happily married for seven years But being sorry doesn't change anything. Anyway, I went into the office, but I couldn't work and instead I phoned round and found a cheap studio apartment. It was basically a furnished room, down on the Brewston Road. It really was grotty." "It's got worse in the intervening years down there, that whole area needs bulldozing and starting again." "Anyway, late in the afternoon I went back home and packed some suitcases. In the middle of doing that, she came home. She screamed hysterically at me, it was almost frightening. Eventually, by me talking calmly she calmed down. I told her I'd see her at the weekend and we could talk then, but I needed a few days. Then I just left." "Did you ever find out how they met?" "Yes, I did ask, on that Monday evening as it happens. I won't swear that I got all the detail right, I'm not sure I was in a very receptive mood for listening, but as I understand it, he came and sat with her in an almost empty staff canteen one day when she was having a late lunch. That's the thing that still bugs me: he chose to sit down with a married woman and chat her up. OK, after that they fell in love, and I accept that's an unstoppable force, I was just collateral damage. But at that first meeting it was just a randy bachelor spotting an attractive woman eating alone, and he thought he'd try his chances. And I know Molly, if she's talking to anyone, you can bet your bottom dollar she will tell them about Jamie and Ben. So, he knew she was married, she was wearing a wedding ring, he quickly knew that she was a mother of two small children. I'd like to think that I got a mention, she was supposedly happily married after all. And he chose to chat her up. Everything else is consequential to that." "But she responded?" "I don't know. Did she? Or was she just polite and she didn't tell him to get lost as she should have done? It probably depends on how subtle he was, and what sort of mood she was in. But, yes, she certainly responded later, in his flat down by the water, one afternoon apparently. And my demise was inevitable." "Anyway, you went off to your dingy room?" "Yup. I refused to take her calls. I was a bit in two minds as to whether I wanted to talk to her, or whether I'd be better off having a week's time out. I thought: well if she really wants to see me or get through to me she'll find a way. But she never did." "But you did go back at the weekend?" "Oh, yes. On the Sunday. I worked Saturday, there was no reason why not. But I went back late on Sunday afternoon." "So what did she say?" "That Peter Davies was a really nice guy, that he reminded her of me in some ways, that he had a great sense of humour and he was intelligent. Oh, and he was a really good listener too. What was I meant to say to that? Congratulate her on her choice of lover? If there was one thing that I didn't want to hear at that moment, I think she hit upon it. I blew up again, not as bad as the previous week, but it wasn't a fun conversation. I did learn that she had seen him again, twice. They had lunch together on both Wednesday and Friday. I got out at that point, and saw my solicitor on the Monday." "And that was it, she never tried to reconcile?" "No. We had to go through showing that we'd made proper provision for the boys, but as my solicitor said: In this country if someone wants a divorce, then they get one. Of course I thought about the boys, but I don't believe in trying to hold a dead marriage together for the sake of the children. That would be a formula for everybody to get hurt. As it is they got a stable home where their mother and step dad are happy, and that's better for them." "And it was smooth? I won't say painless." "No, never. It was a mucky divorce. We argued about the boys. I'd suggested joint custody, but that she should have residency. But she wanted me to have joint residency. I couldn't understand that, I guess bloody Peter was influencing her, he probably didn't want the boys around all the time. We'd always agreed that a stable home life was important for them. Living some of their time with me, with my career going on, wasn't going to give them that. I thought they'd be better off with their mother, or even their mother and this Peter Davies if they were really going to get together. When I'd won that one, we argued about money. In fairness, I think that was more her lawyers than her. Remember that house we'd only just moved into?" "Yes, I remember it. Anne was so jealous." "Yes, it was on the back of me getting the ITI job. We'd decided to mortgage ourselves up to the hilt and beyond to buy the one big family house that we'd always wanted. We decided it would be worth it to give the boys the benefits of it right then, and financially things would get easier in the future. Well, of course, her lawyers started going on about her need to remain in the family home." "I thought that was pretty standard, at least until the youngest is eighteen." "It often happens, but it isn't a legal requirement, and doesn't always happen. The problem was I simply couldn't afford it. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was a 'read my lips' situation about how much money I had coming in. One blip of the mortgage rate, and I'd have gone bankrupt, literally. I had to house myself, however humbly, and I had to pay formal maintenance. It was impossible, but her solicitor just wanted to squeeze me dry." "But you sold the house in the end." "Oh, yes. After this bit of the row had straggled on for a few weeks. Of course I offered to buy them a smaller alternative home, and that was being haggled over. Then I got a letter from my dear, estranged wife. Apparently 'Dear Peter' had asked to marry her. He would sell his flat and buy a house and marry her and make a home for them all, including my sons. Wasn't that generous of him? Anyway, she wrote that she intended to accept, so our house could be sold and the money split fifty-fifty, which it was." "And that was it? Suddenly a great marriage, a great love affair was over?" "Pretty much. I only saw her a couple of times after that. One was a bit odd, two days after I'd received the wonderful news that she was off to marry the love of her life, she was standing outside my front door when I came home that night. I wasn't sure what I was meant to say, she'd just told me that as soon as she could she was going to marry Peter. It was the end of any residual hope that I had; that somehow this was all a dreadful nightmare and I'd wake up soon. But she just stood there and looked at me without saying a word. I hadn't the faintest idea what I was meant to do or say. Our marriage had reduced itself so that we had nothing to say to each other, so eventually I congratulated her on her engagement and went indoors." I didn't tell him how I sat on the stairs, just inside the front door, and cried my eyes out for the end of a wonderful marriage. "And so, dear reader, she married him?" "Five weeks after the Decree Absolute she married her Peter. Actually, in some ways I find that comforting. I wasn't thrown over because of some silly fling, or worse still, some drunken mistake. They loved each other, you can't beat that. I'm fairly philosophical about it all. But I do wish I knew if I had done something wrong, if there was some underlying mistake of mine that made her vulnerable to his entreaties. And, of course I wonder: Did she ever really love me? But I guess I'll be taking those questions to my grave." I smiled gently and shrugged. I looked at Keith, he looked at me. Neither of us said anything for some time. Eventually, I spoke: "I know that ends the evening on a down beat. But truly, believe me, I'm not all bitter and twisted. Life really is fun, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it. But I do need my beauty sleep, and I've got a whole new world to conquer tomorrow. Let's pay the bill and be off. I'll definitely see you again before you go. And do give my love to Anne."