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Caroline Alone Ch. 01

By: MortonGrange



Foreword

This is a story of a wife who cheats on her husband and the consequences for the broken family as they seek to extract their lives from the wreckage. I plan to publish about weekly, or when I can, in four parts, with Part 3 fitting in the Romance section. Sex occurs, but relationships, why they work and fail, provide the focus. And don't expect me to end by bringing on a bunch of Mafiosi cousins to dole out restorative justice to all and sundry in a final, uplifting bloodbath. So if this is not what you're looking for, try something else. 

A lot of work goes into a story of this kind and I welcome feedback. The postings on my previous story, The Duel, which surprised me the most were from readers who disliked the characters or found the subject matter depressing. I can only protest that I write stories as I see them, and I honestly thought The Duel was an uplifting tale of redemption. However, this time, I hope there is sufficient upbeat material to counterbalance the bad behaviour and that you can empathise with my characters and even like them. Or, at least, some of you. 

A word about Brighton. Brighton is a real English town on the south coast which has two universities and is famous for its pier and Regency Pavilion. Parts of this story take place in a town called Brighton which is consistent with the real place, but the university in the story, for reasons of my own, could be neither of the real universities. 



Copyright MortonGrange 2013

Part One 

Jack is running to outpace the gale and the race has come to its bleakest moment, the end far from sight. He's running fast, doing his best to reach the point of exhaustion where thought is lost in the physical response. The rain and wind, when it arrives, turns a bright evening instantly into night. At the crossroads he follows a path across a field, the leaves from the oilseed crop snagging his ankles, the blossoms staining his flesh with dirty yellow pollen and smelling like death, the rain running down his legs into his shoes. Now the wind is on his face and his extremities are cold, numbing the pain. Eventually he reaches the shelter of a hedge and his feet carry him faster along a grassy bridleway, mind escaping body. He wants to keep running, but knows he must go home. Time will reveal what he must do. 

It's dark and very late when he arrives home and he hopes Caroline is asleep, but he finds every light burning and his wife in the kitchen. She looks up and he wonders what he sees in those big, brown eyes: relief, panic, regret, pity, contempt, impatience with his histrionics? She comments on his bedraggled appearance, but he turns to the sink and without taking a cup bends his head and drinks from the running tap as if from a waterfall. Then he showers and goes to bed. There's no room for self pity and life will look better tomorrow. But for now he can't think how his life can ever be right again. 

***

Tuesday was Damien's day. Caroline woke thinking about their meeting and it occupied her thoughts while she got the children out of bed, dressed them for school and sat them down to eat the cornflakes and eggs laid out in the kitchen by Jack, who had already left for work. There was little time for her own preparations, but she went through her routines with as much care as she could: shower, makeup, hair and her newest business suit. Then she got the children into her car and sped across town to Amy's school. As always, Amy rushed off happily into the playground without a backward glance. Then on to Ben's school, where he joined the throng of arrivals with a visible reluctance, but without protest. Motherly duties done, Caroline did her best with the traffic to get to work on time, determined to put in two hours" work until it was time.

She more or less succeeded, concentrating furiously as she reviewed the wording of a contract and fervently hoping she was hiding her excited manner from her colleagues. At 11.30 she left work, taking her iPad so that she could stay in touch via email. Damien lived in a modern complex in the centre of Dixborough, a small town five miles out of the city and she drove along the clear road with her pleasure lifted by every familiar sight along the route. 

Damien waited for her at the door of his modern three-storey town house, tall and slim and dressed in a colourful check shirt. They fell straight into one another's arms with almost nothing said and she frogmarched Damien backwards into the bedroom. Time was precious. 

Damien was fit from rugby and gym workouts and the sex was straightforward and energetic. They had a pattern which they followed, stripping off their clothes, falling on the bed and getting to grips with little foreplay. Caroline marvelled at his strength and the beauty of his body and orgasmed without difficulty more than once before he was done. Then they cuddled and caressed one another before making love again, with less energy and more sensitivity. Afterwards they showered, dressed and ate a lunch which Damien had prepared earlier – a salad with smoked salmon, prawns and avocado. It was delicious as always and she only wished she could have a glass of wine – but not only had she to drive back to work, but she was determined to keep her wits about her with everything to do with Damien. Details and discipline mattered in handling this major complication in her life. 

The affair – and that's what Caroline called it to herself – was unexpected, unplanned and something she believed could never happen. Once she'd overcome her surprise, she knew it must be allowed to take its course. She would be discreet, it would be a secret between her lover and herself and she wouldn't let it affect her family. She met Damien at lunchtime, stretched agreeably with a little flexitime. Communication was restricted to work email and a phone bought for the purpose and kept in the locked glove compartment of her car. Damien was mostly content with these restrictions; it made it easier for him to keep his bachelor life in compartments and he had no wish for messy commitments. Occasionally they found an opportunity to meet outside these restrictions, but only when she was certain there was no risk. 

The whole thing was unaccountable and no fault of hers and she had no intention of making a drama out of a natural human instinct for love and companionship.  Her love for Jack was not diminished by one drop. Rather the opposite – her cup was overflowing with love and in consequence she could handle husband and family life with more energy and enthusiasm than usual. Once she'd accepted her fate, she was happier, confident and more alive to the world around her. This was how a woman was meant to be and she wondered that she could have been ignorant for so long of what she was missing. Life went on as before, but busier and with more purpose. 

She gave Jack lots of attention to be sure that her time out was having no detrimental effect, and this made her feel that they had never been better together. She knew him so well and could be confident he knew nothing – he continued his routines, spent a lot of time playing silly games with the children, was affectionate around the house and in bed and barely took note of her explanation for why her working day was a little longer – to make up flexitime for her longer lunch hours. She appreciated Jack for his tolerance and kindness and his calm, his competence with the children and his strength in adversity. He'd see them through anything. She'd always been able to read his feelings and if there was ever the least hint that she was letting her adventure get to him she would end it. To do so would require moral strength but she'd deal with it long before any real harm came about. Living a secret life was a challenge, but one she managed with a flourish. When she was retired and a grandmother she's look back on this time with pride and pleasure. It was everybody's duty to live life to the full. 

All the same, there was a burden she carried and a secret life gave her endless practical problems to resolve. One lovely aspect of her affair was the enthusiasm she and Damien shared for the theatre and music – things completely outside Jack's interests. Jack hated histrionics of any kind – it was a big weakness – whereas she enjoyed drama and showiness, the release of emotions in dance and music and of showing off and performance. This was all alien to her work and her family and she'd only discovered what it meant to her through Damien. 

Damien frequently suggested they go to a show, but she had to turn him down most of the time; it was too great a risk and couldn't be fitted into the discipline she had set out to protect Jack and the children. She wasn't going to spend evenings away from home and she wasn't going to risk being seen with her lover among a local audience. She wanted Damien to accept this and disliked the way he continued to push the issue. 

Occasions for an extended debauch were rare. Once Damien took leave when she was in London overnight for work and they went to the opera and made the most of the night in a hotel. On another occasion Jack was to drive the children to her parents and leave them for the weekend. She would normally have gone with them for the ride, but on this occasion there was a plausible excuse in that she would be home from work later than was convenient for Jack to leave. She insisted he went without her. It was then decided that Jack would stay overnight so that he could enjoy her father's wine without worrying about being over the limit for driving. 

"Come back early or the weekend will be spoiled," said Caroline, kissing him goodbye, and within an hour of his leaving, she was with Damien. It was too late to get to a show, but they had a great meal at a smart restaurant Damien knew and were together until three a.m., when Caroline insisted on leaving – but not until they had made love one final time – the most passionate and energetic Caroline could recall. She was in her own bed long before Jack arrived sleepy and looking for breakfast. 

In many ways she and Damien were a good match. They would watch a DVD while they ate lunch and listen to music while making love. These were precious moments when she felt completely herself, without pressure to behave for others. Yes, Damien made demands, but they were expressions of his love and her willingness to give him most of what he wanted reflected her contentment. Of course she loved him. They never talked about Jack or where the affair might lead. What they had was too precious to put at risk. Even giving presents was fraught with rules. Damien could only give ephemeral or token gifts – nothing that might later be suspicious. A book was okay if it was one she might buy for herself, or some cosmetic which Jack would never recognise as expensive, or a meal which would leave no trace. But no flowers or jewellery or clothing. And even when they went for a meal, which they did whenever circumstances of their work days allowed, they drove far away and Caroline was careful to choose something which would not linger on her breath, and eat so that there was still room for her evening meal with the family. It was only a question of having a plan and sticking to it.

Damien made a virtue of being a bachelor by choice, explaining how it allowed him to maintain his severely masculine home just as he liked it and to entertain a large circle of friends. Unattached as he was, there was no problem with introducing his lover to his friends as his girlfriend. At first Caroline was wary and anxious to be sure these friends couldn't know Jack or her other life. But she got used to being Damien's latest girl and enjoyed the infrequent social occasions, satisfied that the essential precautions had been observed. 

In any case, she and Damien mostly wanted to be alone together, but when the opportunity occurred she was happy to meet for lunch with his friends. She understood his need to show off his love interest and for her it was a way of taking some of the intensity out of their meetings and acting as if theirs was a normal relationship.  

One other benefit of the affair was Caroline's new confidence and energy at work. She could discuss her work with Damien in a way she wouldn't inflict on Jack, who had his own busy job. He helped her plan a new communications strategy which raised her profile with senior management and her success in keeping the interest of such a clever man gave her confidence in putting forward her ideas at work. Handling two lives successfully and with the addition of Damien's support behind her, she was a stronger and better person. She felt the irony when she was taken aside by an executive director at the end of a board meeting and told that it was likely she would be offered a new position as operations manager – effectively in charge of the main business. For the first time in her affair it turned and stabbed her heart. She had coveted this job and it hurt that she should succeed as a result of her secret affair. 

Irrational though she knew it to be, she told her boss she would turn the job down. It wasn't right to accept in the circumstances and she didn't feel up to managing family, new job and a demanding affair. 

***

For the first time she wondered whether she could justify her part-life with Damien. She and Jack had been married twelve years and that seemed more or less an eternity. They had a comfortable house, a boy of eleven and a girl of nine and careers which were becoming interesting. A lover had never been part of the plan.

She was not at all the flirtatious kind. If anything she was rather severe. The first thing she noticed when she met Damien was his slate grey hair, like wire wool curling over the temples and around his ear. His height was set off by a well-cut, sleek Aquascutum suit, colourful pink tie and he had impeccably manicured nails. He was one of a group of otherwise nondescript management consultants brought in by her employers to help with their strategic planning. She worked for a medium-sized market research company specialising in on-line and telephone surveys and there was a feeling that they were being squeezed in the marketplace by a couple of increasingly dominant large players. Either they must grow themselves or find a specialist or lucrative niche where they could be safe. The consultants would lead them through some future scenarios to help them settle on a strategy. There were a number of inconclusive workshops when Caroline was sure they were getting nowhere and the dull men in smart suits seemed to be laughing at their stupidity. But then she was in a series of one-to-one meetings in which she was quizzed on her specialist knowledge. At once she felt they might be onto something worthwhile and she started to get a sense of purpose. She had no sense of the consultants as individuals until her first meeting alone with Damien. He was building a model of costs against volume of activity and his questions about her operations were sharp and demanding. 

They had one meeting and he asked for another because they were not finished. At first she was impressed with his speed of thought and the ease with which he assimilated her explanations and formulated them into concepts and structures. It was a good discussion and she felt he understood the complexity of her work in a way that nobody else had. Only then did she start to notice how good-looking he was in a fresh, head boy, clean-cut way. She thought he must work out or do sports with his mates in the evening. She liked the way his exercise gave him an all-over healthy padding of muscle, whereas Jack, who ran, was skin and bone from head to foot. 

His manners were polished too and he had the calm authoritative way of speaking adopted by consultants the world over, unsurprised by what people said and always appearing to understand. She could talk to him about anything.

Later, when the project was drawing to a close, he invited her to lunch, promising to give her an informal heads-up on the main conclusions and recommendations in the report. She was flattered to have his confidence. As it turned out, they spent most of the meal talking about art and theatre. In the first minutes in response to polite questions about one another they had discovered a common interest in Broadway musicals. Caroline had begun by telling Damien about her family, but knowing this would not interest him, had searched for something more suitable to discuss. They discovered they had both been to an opera performance given locally by the Glyndebourne touring company. Musicals led on from that and soon nothing could stop their conversation. It was only when they were drinking coffee that they got round to the recommendations on business strategy. The recommendations were radical and she listened with interest to Damien's arguments in favour, deciding immediately that she agreed with him. 

By then she'd had time to absorb the shock. It had come at the start of the meal and she'd known at once there was no escape from what she felt. It wasn't because he was handsome, or that he understood her so well, or that he was cultured and intelligent, or that he had a brilliant career. He had all those attributes, but what she felt was a deeper, spiritual connection with someone she felt she should have known all her life. 

The blow disoriented her. They were talking about nothing that mattered and an instant later she was in love. It gripped her like a strangler's hand and she could struggle but not escape. At first she distrusted the feeling. She was a married woman with a family. A happily married woman, which she was, didn't fall in love; there was nothing to provoke it. Her love for her husband was a shield through which no wayward hint of passion could creep; her heart was a vessel already full. She wasn't an adolescent; she was in charge of her feelings and couldn't love this man. But nothing had ever happened to her like this before.  

Her chatter became forced and she was sure she must be staring at Damien like a doe-eyed girl. He seemed to notice nothing and happily ate the meal and chatted easily in response to every lead of hers. By the end of the meal she knew she had to become his lover or die unfulfilled.

Her first idea was that she would have to leave Jack and the children and start a new life with Damien. She couldn't imagine creeping around Jack forever afraid of forgetting some detail of the deceptions required for a secret affair. Nor did she fancy living with the guilt she imagined she would feel at cheating on her husband and children. She needed the courage of her convictions and make a clean break.

A week passed during which she and Damien exchanged intense emails on their work accounts, loosely sanctioned by discussion of the new strategy, the consultants" report having set up a huge battle among Caroline's executive board members. 

What shocked her was that family life went on as before. She keyed herself up and looked into Jack's eyes knowing that love for Damien filled her head to bursting. She wanted him to say something, at least to notice that something immense had happened to her. He smiled happily and kissed her cheek. He saw nothing – knew nothing about the momentous shift in her life – and in place of shame she was relieved and gratified that she had deceived him. 

It was unbelievable. She'd fallen passionately in love with a stranger and her husband hadn't noticed. How could he be so careless about something so important to her? She felt a twinge of pride in her superiority. If Jack wasn't going to notice then how could he be hurt by what she did? 

She and Damien agreed to meet again on the pretence of discussing one of the many issues raised by the consultants" report. She got to the restaurant and in place of a businesslike handshake they fell into one another's arms, smothering one another with needy kisses. They could not stand against the cyclone and could barely sit still for the meal. She fiddled with her food and he stared at her with violence. They had little to say and left as soon as they decently could. Damien drove them out of town and along winding lanes to a hay pasture where they lay in the sun under a hedge and made love, clothes bunched and sweat on their foreheads. It was all-absorbing and there was no guilt. They clung to one another afterwards and only tidied themselves up and started back to town when the sun had moved behind the hedge and they were in shade. 


Caroline Alone Ch. 01



***

"Are the children ready for school sweetie?"

Caroline breezes through the kitchen in between getting various things ready for the day – starts the washing machine and stuffs Ben's gym kit into his bag, brushes Amy's hair as she eats cereal and quizzes her about her new teacher. Jack finishes his coffee, clears the table and loads the dishwasher, calls his children to order, says goodbye to his wife and is out of the house. It's going to be another long day. He works hard with manic intensity, doesn't stop for lunch and continues until seven. Then he gets into his car and drives home. 

There's some dinner waiting for him but he goes to the bathroom and sprays his face with water before finding his children.

Betrayal has come as a bolt from the blue and Jack takes solace in running and in the company of Ben and Amy. What better antidote to the cynical manipulations and betrayals of adults than children absorbed in play? He plays a computer game with Ben and reads a story to Amy. He puts every nerve into these efforts, not least to escape thinking about where Caroline is. When Amy asks if she can stay up until her mother gets home, he says, "Not tonight darling. She may be a little late and you can say hello tomorrow morning. I'll read you one more story."

She's a little teary but soon settles down once the story gets going and before long she's asleep. Now there's nothing for Jack to think about but Caroline and what he must do the next day. He sits in front of the television and still finds it difficult to imagine how she's pulled it off. Where did she find the energy – or for that matter the time – to conduct an affair while working full time and bringing up a family? Tomorrow Jack is going to sort it out one way or the other. He's not clear what difference it will make but he has to know more. He suffers the fear of loss and of loneliness but anger deep down protects him from despair.  He won't be destroyed by the folly of others. Nor will he act in anger. He'll carry on as if nothing's happened until he's ready. Only then will he act. 

It's about ten o'clock, the news is on the television, and he hears the front door click.

"Hello sweetie? Are the kids in bed?" 

That's Caroline, bright and perky even after a long day's work and a lover to propitiate. How does she do it and has she realised she's begun calling him sweetie? He gets to his feet and stands still as she approaches, broad smile in place, and flings an arm round his neck for his kiss. He holds his breath, disturbed by her familiar smell. 

"How good to see you Jack. Hope you had a good day. I'm exhausted. Hot chocolate and bed for me. What a day! You ready to join me?"

"You look dreadful sweetie," he says pointedly, stepping back. "As if you've been trampled by a herd of buffalo. Been in combat once more for the Team?"

She gives him an odd look. "I never understand a word you say Jack. Our customers are mostly very civilised and I never get into a fight."

Jack smiles inwardly, amused by Caroline's inability to see beyond the literal sense of his remark. When he first discovered her lie, he decided to act as if nothing had changed. But he soon modified the rule and now has a taste for ambiguous remarks intended to unsettle her without letting on that he knows her secret. It works every time, leaving her to retreat in confusion. 

Knowledge had come in a tawdry set of details after a period of growing doubt. In fact, it began with her calling him sweetie. It was her name for her boyfriend when Jack first knew her at University, a boorish lout who hung around her without any conversation or manners. She lost him after a term and about a year later she became Jack's girlfriend. "Sweetie" never passed her lips. First of all, jokingly, she called him "my chum", then "my lover", then "dear" and "dearest". Now she had apparently forgotten that "sweetie" had negative associations, or even that it wasn't what she called him. 

That was before the encounter with Amazon. A few weeks before Ben's birthday they had discussed what to buy him as a present. She'd found the computer game they thought he wanted and asked Jack to check it was the right one. He took her place at her computer where she had the Amazon page open and he read through the technical details. He called out that it seemed right to him, but Caroline had wandered off somewhere. It was close to the hour which guaranteed delivery next day so he clicked to put the game in her basket and check it out. That's when he was surprised. The screen prompted him to select between two delivery addresses – their own and one for Damien Curde, a stranger. He looked for a while at the screen, wrote down the address, backed out of the purchase and clicked on her previous orders. There, a month ago, was an order sent to Damien Curde at the strange address, a boxed set of choral music on CD. Then he returned to the game page, rose and found Caroline in the kitchen. 

"It's the right game. I left it on screen for you to buy," he said curtly and went to his study. A quick web search on his own computer brought up an entry for Damien Curde, a partner in a regional management consultancy, an economist whose speciality was marketing strategies. Could Caroline have bought the CDs as a gift for a wholly plausible work reason? Of course she could and if he'd had no other suspicions he might have left it at that. 

When Caroline was upstairs he took her phone from her bag and checked the address book and there was no listing for Damien Curde. The list of recent calls revealed little because he didn't know Damien's number; but there was no frequent unknown caller. If Damien was a work contact it was quite plausible they would communicate only by work telephone. 

When he had a chance, he checked her car. At once he found the glove compartment locked and of course the door key opened it. The phone was inside a little toilet bag stuffed with sanitary wear and showed an unanswered text. It was from "Dam" and said. "Usual plan. Can't wait. Love millions."

It had taken less that an hour to discover all he needed to destroy his family. Or so he thought until he spent an hour alone in his room digesting his panic. First, he realised he needed to know a lot more about this love affair. Second, he wasn't going to let Caroline dictate what happened and he didn't want to lose his children or traumatise their young lives by pulling the family apart. It might take a while, but he would work out what he wanted, and then he would make it happen. For Damien he felt nothing other than hatred – for a corrupt and evil presence that had somehow tunnelled its way into the heart of his family. Then he went for a run. 

He has Damien's name and address and what he knows from hours – whole nights – of thinking is that he must find out more about his enemy. 

He takes a day's leave from work and drives to Damien's house. It's six miles and ten minutes from his front door. He parks a little along the deserted road, goes to the front door and rings the bell. There's no answer. He goes to the gate at the side of the house. It's unlocked and he lets himself into the garden. A row of houses beyond the wall at the end overlooks the rear of the building, but he's ready to take reasonable risks. The back door's locked and the windows are closed, except for the bathroom window on the first floor. There's a rotary washing line in the middle of the garden. He puts on his surgical gloves, collapses the washing line, pulls it from its mounting hole and leans it at an angle against the back of the house. He shins up the steel frame and balances precariously on the top, one hand steadying himself against the drain pipe. From there he gets a foot onto the grill covering an extractor fan and from there onto the bathroom window ledge. He pulls the window wide open, leans through and unlatches the large dormer window, swinging it open and climbing inside. It's taken no more than five minutes. He closes the dormer window and wipes the footmark from the tiled window sill and the toilet seat where he climbs down.

At first he's not sure what to do. He goes downstairs, unlocks the back door so he has an escape route and replaces the rotary washing line. Then he looks into every room in a perfunctory search for evidence of Caroline's presence. It would be too much to expect a photograph or a letter, but he looks through the opened letters on the mantelpiece and the photographs stuck to a pin board in the kitchen. In the centre of the wall is a large framed photograph of a young man in ribbed football gear, a rugby football under one arm and a silver cub in the other. Jack stares at his nemesis, taking in the look of triumph, the youthful vigour and the shine of a man who has everything he wants. 

It's creepy, this prying into the life of his wife's lover and he feels disgust. He moves into the kitchen and finds a bunch of keys in a drawer. A quick test shows one to be a spare front door key. He has a sudden inspiration and lets himself out of the house, drives to the centre of town and has a duplicate cut. He's back in the house within half an hour, his enemy's defences permanently breached. 

Waiting for the key to be cut, he realised what he must do. The centrepiece of Damien's study is a high end computer with a large screen. He turns it on and Windows boots. There's no password protection – Damien lives alone. He opens the browser and finds a web email in the list of bookmarks. He clicks and it opens – username and password cached on the machine. 

Jack has to sit down. He checks the time, looks out of the window and turns back to the screen. The first thing that catches his eye is his wife's email address in the "From" column of Damien's In Box. There are many emails from Caroline. He clicks on the most recent. 

"Morning lover. One day until the high point of my week. I'm sexy just thinking of you. I'll bring the Pavarotti recording of Turandot on my iPad and with any luck it will bowl you over like it did me. I'm a slut for your loving – game for anything that will drive you wild for me." 

He closes his eyes, unwilling to read, but there's more. "Listen lover, I've an idea to give us even more happiness. Jack has to go with the children to my parents on Friday evening. I could have another late meeting and we could be together. He's got a two hundred mile round trip so we could have the evening together. What do you think?"

Damien's not yet replied and Jacks feels like replying for him. But he knows he must give Damien no reason to suspect he's been burgled. In any case, he has a better answer: he too will have a late meeting on Friday. The children's visit to his parents will be postponed. 

Jack feels sudden disgust with his meddling and then an urgent need to get out of the house, far from Damien Curde. He turns off the computer, does a quick inspection of all rooms to make sure there's no sign of his visit, and leaves by the front door. 

Home on his own he has more thinking to do. He texts his wife: "Out early. I'll get the kids from school. Problem Friday. Late shift. Take kids to parents Sat morning. OK?"

In among the desolation, it gives him a childish satisfaction. 

If he needs any more proof of Caroline's wickedness, it comes with her reaction. She can't hide her disappointment and wants to punish Jack. Of course she can't explain the reason for her bad temper and instead finds fault with everything he does. She pushes away the meal he's prepared and says it's uneatable. Then she tells him off for giving the children sticky treacle pudding. The children shout at her in fury and she smacks Ben. 

"What's the matter sweetie?" Jack says. "Someone thwarted your indomitable will?"

"Don't call me sweetie," she snaps. "You know I don't like it."

Later, when she's waiting for him to read her story, Amy says, "Why's mummy cross with you? You're the best daddy in the world and I wish she wouldn't."

"She's having a hard time," replies Jack. "She doesn't know she's doing it and doesn't mean to upset you. Now choose your story."

Soon they're lost in a story about heroic and magical cats who join forces with the mice to save the world from disaster. 

***

Jack's wakes on the day Caroline meets her lover and hangs around the bedroom, curious to see how his wife prepares. As far as he can tell she does nothing special, apart from watching his unfamiliar delay with a frown. Eventually, when she's dressed and ready to leave, she says, "I'm sorry I was ratty last night. I had a tough day at work. But today I feel fine. Let me cook tonight and I'll do something we all like."

"You do that," he says, looking directly into her eyes, surprised by his calm. "And don't wear yourself out or I'll trade you in for a fancy new model."

"You wouldn't do that," she says hastily, eyes down. "That's not in the least funny."

"It's not. Right."

She waits for him to say more, but he smiles and walks away, not at all confident of his self control. 

Driving to work he's gripped by a compulsion to go back to Damien's house. It's irrational because he doesn't need or want more proof of his wife's infidelity and he knows his wife will be there at lunchtime. Jack's no voyeur; he can imagine no worse nightmare than walking in on Caroline with her lover. But he gives in to his compulsion, turns off his usual route and feels he's the one in the wrong as he takes the road out of town against the traffic. When he's parked by the market cross he calls work to say he's unwell and tells his secretary to cancel his meetings. 

He's gripped by fatalism, doesn't wear his gloves or ring the bell to check the house is empty. Instead he unlocks Damien's front door and walks straight in. He's taking risks because part of him wants a confrontation – an excuse for action. In the hall he pauses and listens. Somewhere a clock ticks, but otherwise the house is silent. Before long he had a creepy sense of knowing Damien Curde like a friend and, disconcertingly, admiring the effortless way he's annexed what he wants. Heart racing, he takes a quick look round, switches on the computer, overcome by the urgent need to discover from the email how the affair's progressing. 

He reads a sequence of messages between the lovers, trying to decipher the awkward expressions of affection, challenge and love. And there's no doubt they love on another. Caroline's endearments are genuine. She's working hard to flatter and tease and not in the least shy of bribery with the promise of a meal or her body. Damien's a little formal or stiff in his replies, working hard to inject some feeling into his expressions of desire. But again there's no doubt he loves her. When he's denied a meeting he's pathetic in his disappointment. He reads Caroline's announcement that Friday's meeting is off.

"Jack's cocked it up. No go Friday. Am I disappointed? You bet. But I'll make it up to you tomorrow lover boy – you sixpack of sex, you consummate cocktail of charm. Don't overdo it at the gym or I'll tear you limb from limb."

Damien's reply is long, but the gist of it is that he can't deal with having his hopes raised and then dashed. Caroline must find a way to let them be together more. 

"Don't play with my feelings," he tells her off, "Because I've never felt like this about someone before. And I already suffer tortures because I have to share you with your husband. I accept pain in order to be with you, but please, please don't make it any worse than it need be."

He intends to read the emails quickly and get to work, but lingers, curious to discover more about his nemesis. He looks through the books in the sitting room – lots of new literary fiction – and DVDs – classic film noire, new wave European films – and music – classical, opera, some jazz and Broadway musicals. It's a loser's action because it makes him feel inferior and he's cross with himself. He sits in the kitchen feeling creepy and foolish, uncertain what to do. On impulse he switches on the expensive stainless steel bean-to-cup coffee machine he sees on the counter, takes a mug from the cupboard and puts it under the spout. There's a slot for the milk container and he opens the fridge to see if it's there. Stacked on the shelf above the milk are cartons of bean salad, couscous, mozzarella, pepper and tomato salad. On another shelf there's smoked salmon and parma ham and goat's cheese: ready lunch for two lovers. 

The milk container's in the door beside a bottle of Chablis. He takes it out, fits it onto the coffee machine and sits still while it grinds and hisses and gives him his cappuccino. It's delicious. 

In a daze Jack sits at the kitchen table drinking the coffee. The situation is incomprehensible. How can she love this man and continue life at home as if nothing has happened? But he knows it's the wrong question. The only question that matters is what does this mean for their marriage. And there's no easy answer. It's not even about whether he loves Caroline; they've lived together for so long it's more like a brother's betrayal. He can even see how this stab in the back has come about. Caroline is bold and impetuous, eager not to miss out on any fun going. It's one of the characteristics that first attracted him to her. She's also absorbed in her own concerns and fearful of conflict. She'll do something like break his new hi fi and try to hide the consequences rather than admit what she's done and have to feel bad about it. Betrayal followed by denial must for her be the easy choice. It's rooted in her character and the pressures of family life have exposed her weakness. 

Knowing this makes it no easier for Jack, but the situation is too serious to let him respond in anger. He'd like to confront her, make her own up to her criminal, abusive, destructive behaviour, but he must think of his children and take the weight of the disaster on his shoulders. That's what men do. Marriages fail all the time and the way out from under the rubble is not through blame. In any case, whatever he decides to do, Caroline will suffer – they all will. It's just that his suffering has already begun.

Jack hears Caroline's distinctive voice so clearly in her emails, making remarks she's said to him. He can't take any more and gets up, wandering through the house, imagining Caroline living there with "Dam" as wife and lover. She haunts the place and he can see her so clearly, curled up in the corner of the settee, checking her hair in the hall mirror, heating her hot chocolate drink in the microwave last thing at night, head on the pillow, eyes closed, turned onto her side towards her lover in the centre of the big bed.  In the cupboard in the kitchen there are "beauty" and "beast" mugs as there are "his" and "her" mugs at home. And in the sitting room there's a loose disk from the latest DVD set of "House" just as there is at home. And in the bathroom is her toothbrush – the very same make and colour as the one at home. It's as if the house is a nasty, theatrical, mocking palimpsest overwriting the original. Their own home of warmth, love and humanity has been replaced with this false, kitsch, worthless copy. 

He's had enough and feels a little mad. He goes back to the kitchen and on impulse takes the lovers' lunch from the fridge, bundling the packages into a bag and carrying it back to the car. He's no idea why he's done it, or what Damien will think when he finds his lunch gone and the coffee cup on the table. He stops in a lay-by on his way back into the city and tastes the food, which he sees has been bought from a famously expensive local delicatessen. He's not hungry and the food is disgusting. Suddenly angry with himself he bundles it all up, including the wine, and stuffs it into one of the waste bins among the overflowing fast food wrappers. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 01



Now he can't think what to do with the rest of the day. He daren't go to work as he's said he's ill, and he'd rather not go home because he doesn't want to be alone. Not for the first time he wonders whether he has the willpower to continue this farce. All his strength is taken with holding things together and it's too much – it would be a relief to decide he can't cope and run for his life – let his wife come home to an empty house. But he can't do that to the children and knows there's no alternative to carrying on. He'd better get used to being alone and he goes home and falls asleep, waking only a while before it's time to collect the children from school. 

It's their habit for the first home to cook for all unless they have previously agreed otherwise. Caroline is frequently late on days when she's not collecting the children, but today he expects her at six. Now he wonders how many of these late evenings involve meetings with Damien. A nasty stab to the gut is prompted by the thought: is she with Damien now? He examines the idea while chopping vegetables, searching for the point where he failed his marriage. He must have disappointed Caroline and been too absorbed to notice the signs. After all, he had months to realise his wife was having an affair and failed. Isn't that enough proof of the gulf between them? He'd thought they were a good combination – her spontaneous common-sense and his intellect, but now he wonders if she's always despised his introversion and lack of fun. Had she simply become bored and gone looking elsewhere? 

Five minutes later he dismisses this line of treason. Caroline's a force of nature and it's just as likely he's the victim of misfortune. She met someone by chance and fell in love.  There need not have been any intent on her part. She'd grown close to Damien and affection had turned to love and desire. Led into a false situation, she adapted to a life of deceit and betrayal, unable to force a way out. He throws a potato into the sink and shouts as loud as he can. She's fucked everything up. She thinks she's sorted out the mess and believes they can live as they are – husband and lover and her flitting between the two. There need not be any pain – at least, for her. "See who's the smart one!" she must be thinking. Caroline has never lacked confidence. She has a plan and he's playing along admirably. She must be very happy.

The children come running to find out why he shouted and he makes up a story about banging his funny bone. Minutes later, Caroline arrives and helps finish the meal. She's relaxed with him and asks him about his day. Jack wonders if she's especially hungry and eager to eat. 

"I don't know how you can eat a big lunch and come home to a meal like this," he tells her as they sit down to lamb chops, mashed potato, fresh runner beans and gravy.

"I only had a sandwich at my desk," she replies. As hard as he searches he can detect no hint in her face of embarrassment at her lie or unease at being reminded of her lunchtime. 

He's still not hungry and gives his chop to Ben, whose appetite is bottomless. There's no need for him to talk to Caroline; the children are happy with the meal and full of their own world of teachers and lessons and friends who said this, did that. He throws in the odd comment but mostly watches his wife. She changed from her work suit before joining in the cooking and wears a shapeless black top and slacks, her hair pinned back and her makeup scrubbed off. There's no need to look good for her family. She's relaxed and happy, making comments to keep her children talking and occasionally glancing at her husband. 

He meets her eye. "I went out at lunchtime. Drove to Dixborough where I remembered there's a traditional hardware shop in the street behind the market cross."

"Why did you do that sweetie?" 

She's very good – apart from the false endearment, not a hint of anxiety or embarrassment and she never once drops eye contact. 

"To see whether they had a replacement cast iron fire grate that will fit our hearth. No luck, but they thought they might be able to get one if I take in the measurements. I may go back next week. It's a nice town – much quieter than here. Maybe we should move there some time. It's not too bad a commute."

"I don't think so dear. It's hardly convenient for schools and I like it here."

"The children won't be at school forever. Then we can do as we please."

Is there a hint of a question in her look? Why is my dull, unimaginative, routine-driven, reliable husband suddenly saying such things? He's not sure and it's his eyes that fall and he concentrates on his plate. 

How could she do it? He knows his wife but he can't explain it properly. She's not a risk taker and never complains of being bored; far from it, her job never leaves her enough time for the things she wants to do. What she's done is like a form of mental derangement – schizophrenia with two personalities, good and evil, working in tandem: mother and whore – two roles interchangeable and equally suited to her inner self.  He simply doesn't know her as well as he thought. And he's not at all sure he still likes her; she's no friend of his. 

He lies in bed thinking his marriage is beyond words or explanation. This is where sane couples split – when confronted with an indigestible fact which provokes incoherent, unspeakable thoughts. Why put up with the pain? Why try to understand it when annihilation gives a way out? Destroy the marriage and the problem will be gone. He should do it, but still he isn't ready. Fear stops him acting – fear of failure and loneliness. He knows he's pathetic.

***

Living a lie made Caroline prey to unfamiliar fears. Everything that was said – by her and others – was scrutinised to check that it revealed no chink in her protective armour. The more successful she was, the more it mattered to continue the success.

She no longer asked herself why she did it. It was enough that it happened and now she and Damien had to let the affair take its course. She loved Jack and her family but she loved Damien too. She couldn't abandon him. There was no point in feeling guilty and in any case she paid for her happiness every day in the effort of managing her double life. 

It no longer surprised her that it happened. Jack worked too hard. He led a large analytics team in a bank, working on complex numeric analysis of investment and credit risk. She didn't pretend to understand his work, but had always been in awe of his success. He sometimes brought in astonishing bonuses with his salary, but also pressure to deliver difficult projects, combined with the hardship and frustration of working in a difficult and uncongenial business climate. Jack mostly didn't show the stress he was under, but at times it made him depressed and difficult to live with – withdrawn and uncommunicative, snappy with the children and seemingly absorbed in watching sport on television and reading history – an interest from his time at university. If only he'd do something spontaneous, show a little enjoyment and sparkle, she thought she'd have never been open to Damien's attention. She didn't blame Jack; she only wished she understood better what he needed and that she didn't feel that he sometimes found her wanting. He was clever and deep and it was easy to feel inadequate in trying to be a good wife, unable to support him. 

Her main objective was to keep Jack happy and she was very cautious about letting Damien take her time from the family. Yes, there had been occasions at the weekend when she had wriggled out of something she would once have enjoyed doing with the family, but she was severe on herself and this was rare. Most weeks she saw Damien only for their lunchtime meeting and the fleeting nature of their encounters made them more precious. One of the special rewards of the relationship was that with Damien there was no need to negotiate endlessly and compromise over the details of life – who's picking up the kids, who made this mess, why didn't you buy milk when I asked you, how did you manage to lose my new gloves? She and Damien expressed their demands on one another directly and found they liked the result. Just getting into the car to drive to his house was an escape from the pressures of life so that by the time she arrived she felt ten years younger. She could think of nothing more blissful than the first hugs and caresses when she arrived, the urgency that came from anticipation, and the rapid growth and release of passion. 

Afterwards when they were wrapped in one another's arms, or on the settee with a meal and a DVD, her time with Damien seemed entirely separate – so full, so perfect, it was impossible to think of it as harmful. Caroline returned to her family from these escapades invigorated and full of love, seeing everything in a new, clearer light. The first moments alone with her husband were always electric as she digested an irrational fear that he must know what she'd been doing, that it was imprinted on her flesh, the blush still on her face and visible to all. But he would kiss her calmly or pat her arm with unreasonable good humour, as if nothing had happened.

"I've just fucked another man!" she wanted to scream. But of course she was pleased and relieved that Jack saw nothing.  Her anxiety about one or two things was simply the result of her obsessing about covering her tracks. 

The greatest shock came when Jack told her about going to Dixborough at lunchtime. She wanted to believe she was terrified by her narrow escape from disaster, but she knew it was untrue. What she'd experienced when Jack told the story was not terror, or guilt, but pleasure – the thrill of the sky diver or bungee jumper in the moment of escape from disaster. Her success made her charitable and she felt compassion and sympathy for Jack. Having won, she wanted to make him feel better – until the next time. 

It was harder to manage the balance with Damien, who showed signs of anxiety and vulnerability as the affair progressed from early infatuation to obsession. He loved Caroline so that it was hard for him to let her go back to her husband. His was the least secure position and he wanted to be with her always. When he hinted at this she dismissed him casually. 

"Dam, it's an affair and we're doing well. You see much more of me than most lovers would manage. We've got this worked out and it's important not to get greedy."

"But I'm alone when you leave me. You don't realise how hard it is."

"Come off it Dam, it's you who wanted a bachelor life without commitments. We're doing really well so don't spoil it."

"If only we could have a weekend away. It could be fixed with a little ingenuity."

"No."

"I think you're hard."

"It's an asset. I have to be."

One day, after they'd made love beautifully and were cuddled together in Damien's warm bed, he said, "Are we doing the right thing or is this just a dream? I can't face the thought that you will suddenly vanish into the air."

"Don't be anxious," she replied. "What we have is perfect and we know how to make it work. We'll be fine."

"But it's so risky, living a secret life like this. One mistake and we're done. Unless you leave your husband."

"I'll never do that. But we won't make a mistake. Even if we did, everyone will get over it. Life is too good for this to be wrong."

"But if your husband knew, how would you handle it?"

"He'll never know. He trusts me – it's his style. But if he did, he's a reasonable man and I'd get him to understand this from my point of view."

"I want more time with you, not less. I see so little of you and it's not enough, given how much you mean to me."

"We have to keep our discipline – we agreed. It's how we keep safe."

"If we can't have a weekend I want a whole day together when there's no pressure of time and we can relax and I'm not spooked every minute thinking about you going back to your husband."

"Get a grip Dam, you're becoming jealous. One day the opportunity will come and we'll have a great time. But you must be patient."

"This month."

"We can hope."

When he shook his head and looked dismal, she grabbed him and pulled him on top of her. 

"Now make love to me again and show me why I'm the luckiest woman alive."

Damien's possessiveness was a worry. It was certainly not what Caroline wanted from her lover. His part was to stay strong and understand that her husband was the man who needed protection. She'd warn Damien to cut it out and reward him with a day together. As he'd said, it was only a matter of working out how to do it and choosing the moment. 

But she resented his attitude and thought him selfish. He knew she loved her husband and her family because she'd explained it to him right at the start. She'd given so much to him and he had no reason to feel aggrieved. And if he was struggling with the emotional pressures of having a lover then he should consider how much harder it was for her. 

All the same she was moved by his love in ways she hadn't expected. She loved Dam, of course; she'd not have an affair with a man she couldn't love; but her experience of the affair was nothing compared to his uncontrollable need for her. He wanted to shower presents on her and carry her away so that he could possess her absolutely. Much of this annoyed and frustrated her because it was unrealistic, but she loved the sensation of mattering so much to this man. There could be few women alive so much loved as she. 

His demands prompted something like guilt because the man who had not complained throughout was Jack. Far from feeling that Damien deserved more of her time, she knew that to stay on plan she had to give more to her family. Just this last week she'd been conscious of how stressful life at home had become. There was nothing specific to make her uneasy but she sensed that Jack was difficult to capture in friendly conversation. Instead he'd developed an uncomfortable knack of saying things that jarred by reminding her of her secret life. 

Only the day before he'd said at breakfast: "Why do we have to have crap coffee in this house? We can afford better coffee than this stale, muddy, lukewarm filter stuff.  I'm sure most people do much better. Do you know anyone who's got one of those automatic bean-to-cup machines that makes coffee in whatever style you want?" He looked directly at her, eyes forcing hers to meet his. "Have you ever had a coffee from one of those machines?"

What was this? "Not sure what type of machine you mean, Jack," she replied with forced calm. "But if it bothers you we could look at machines at the weekend. As you say, if there's one you want I'm sure we can afford it."

"I'd like to try one first," he replied. "I'll find someone who's got one and get myself invited to coffee."

"You do that."

She'd missed the bullet and felt a little thrill once more at her successful effrontery, but was alarmed by the conversation. What had brought that about and why did he sound angry with her because of the coffee situation? As far as she could recall it was he who'd bought the filter machine he now considered so inadequate.

Back home from Dixborough, Caroline would rush to catch up with family life, preparing a meal and chasing things for the children.  On the day of Damien's missing lunch she made a special effort and was so busy there was a delay before she realised that Jack had failed to come over and greet her. What was the matter with him? She put aside her worry and breezed on with motherly things. Even though Jack seemed unaware of the need, she'd make a special effort to reconnect with him later. 

When she wanted to go to bed, Jack was working on his computer. She suggested a drink but he didn't join her in the sitting room and the idea was forgotten. When it was their normal bed time he was still working on a budget estimate for work. Usually he'd put work aside and if necessary get up early to finish it. This time he said he'd continue while the issues were fresh in his mind. Caroline went to bed alone.

It troubled her that the affectionate touches, so much a part of their marriage, were now rare. They were both busy and the glue that kept them together were the little moments of closeness, the peck on the lips, the silent, reassuring caress, the cuddle at night or in a moment in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. By their nature these little acts were unplanned and so it was natural for there to be more such moments for a while, and fewer at other times. She struggled to remember whether Jack had initiated such a touch since the weekend. Lovemaking was a less reliable test of feeling. They'd not made love since the weekend, but it was not unusual to miss an opportunity in the week. They always made up at the weekend. Caroline determined that the simple answer to her concern was to get Jack to bed with her. 

The next day she prepared dinner and when Jack arrived he ignored her welcome and went into the garden where the children were playing on the slide and began a game of rough and tumble.

"What was that about?" wondered Caroline. She finished cooking the lasagne, laid the table and put out bread and water. She added some olives and balsamic vinegar, which Jack liked, and called everyone to sit down. 

The children were hungry and had a lot to say about their day, and all was well. When they were done, she washed and bathed the children and made them brush their teeth, as usual when she was home; then Jack spent a long time getting them into bed with stories and chatter. She used the time to have a bath herself and clear her mind, newly aware that it wasn't enough to go through the motions of her plan, but that she had to live it to the full. That meant giving Jack every corpuscle of her attention.

He eventually came down stairs and she was seated in her dressing gown in the sitting room with a magazine. 

"Fancy a drink?" she asked, glancing up with a welcoming smile.

"Not for me. I have to be sharp tomorrow to deal with the circling sharks."

"Trouble at work? I've an idea to take the stress away." 

She got up from the settee and advanced towards him. Horrified, he stepped to one side and pointed. 

"I've told you so many times not to put your glass on that polished coffee table without using a coaster," 

What was going on? She didn't remember him ever saying such a thing before.

"Come off it Jack, don't be ratty. We don't care about petty things like that. It's pointless in a house full of children." She concentrated hard and kept calm. "You going to bed? It's getting late and I thought it might be an idea to tuck ourselves in a little early."

Jack shrugged dismissively. "I've got a cold and don't want to pass on any bugs. Sex is a killer when it comes to transmitting disease."

He turned to watch her and she looked uncertain. "Really, between husband and wife you can't worry about passing on a cold."

"Maybe, but I'd rather stay clear. It's an unnecessary risk."

She withdrew, confused once again by Jack's ability to say things touching her secret life with Dam. She'd worried about unprotected sex and STDs and decided it was a risk worth taking with Dam. And she couldn't ask Jack to wear a condom, but she was only expecting him to take the same risk that Damien was happy to accept. 

***

Jack is aware that his plan has delivered none of the expected benefits. At home he's strained relations just as he planned, without affecting the children. Caroline must surely realise she has no hope of sustaining her double life in a comfortable balance. But on the negative side she's not been put off her extramarital visits. 

He must improve his game. He sees they are meeting twice a week now – perhaps a consequence of the frustration Caroline must feel at Jack's denial of affection. Maybe that's a way to win, to make things worse – so bad they can only get better. Caroline must surely realise by now that her relationships have overbalanced. Her husband and lover are not equally content. If she values her marriage she must start working hard to save her husband. The problem for Jack is that she shows no sign of realising this. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 01



He reads his daughter her bedtime story and sits on the end of the bed watching her sleep. Tears blur his vision as he accepts that the time has come to act. He must be courageous because what follows will be highly unpredictable. He's calculated the risks and they're not favourable, but he has no alternatives in any case. He stands to lose everything that matters to him. It's not only his life on the firing line – it's everyone who's dear to him. Fear is not acceptable and he must show courage. He knows what he must do. 

To be continued 



Caroline Alone Ch. 02



Foreword

I suggest those of you who hated Part One take an early bath because this is more of the same. All I can ask those of you who hate what you read, but read it all the same and complain about it, is that you read carefully. We all spend our lives learning from our mistakes and my characters make lots. It's what makes us interesting and human. My point is to raise powerful emotions and it's for you to discover what to do with them. I suppose therefore I must accept that abuse is in the range of valid responses. 

And to answer some of those who commented on my throw-away remark in my previous foreword about The Duel being a story of redemption: remember that in England assisting a terminally ill person to die is murder. I tried to make clear that Suzie didn't help Stan die because she believed in euthanasia but because in her own way she loved him.  At the end, when he needed her most, she was there for him and risked everything to give him what he wanted, gaining nothing in return. I couldn't think of a greater sacrifice a person could make. In doing it she was attempting to atone for her errors and I thought her noble. But I accept that few read it that way, so it's down to me to do better next time. Maybe a male writer is always inclined to fall in love with his female lead in spite of her bad behaviour – or perhaps because of it. It was Flaubert who said of another famous adulteress: 'Madame Bovary, c'est moi.' 

Now back to Caroline alone – and don't you just love her? Only kidding... 



Copyright MortonGrange 2013




Part Two

Caroline rose on the morning of her London trip disheartened by the complexities of her life. Jack was up early too and she was disconcerted by his calm and purposeful actions as he prepared breakfast, listened to the news on the radio, made lunch for the children and packed their sandwich boxes, roused then from bed and into their school clothes. This was all routine, but she wondered what was different and why she was uncomfortable.  

"What's up Jack?" she asked eventually when she'd finished rushing about and was ready to leave.

"Busy day. Lot going on."

"Work? I'm sorry I can't get back tonight. Not fair you having to do the school run morning and night, but I'll make up next week."

"Not a problem."

"Jack, you must take more care of yourself. You work too hard and you never seem to relax. When I get back from this trip I'll make sure you get some fun."

"That's good of you, but really I'm fine. I have lots of fun with the children."

They looked at one another until Caroline picked up her overnight bag and briefcase and aimed a kiss at his lips, making contact with the corner of his mouth. 

"Take care," she said with a twinge of alarm.

"You be careful," he responded. "And don't bother calling tonight. I may take the children out to eat and I shan't answer my phone while we're out."

"Don't stay out late."

"You too."

He turned away. She knew something was wrong but had to go despite the anxiety lodged in the back of her mind. There was no time to worry about it now or she'd miss her train. She drove to the station struggling to make sense of what had happened. What did he mean: "Don't ring"? Of course she'd call and he could at least text to assure her the children were okay. It sounded more as if he didn't want to speak to her. 

It was a relief to get onto the train and put the confusions of family behind her for a while at least. 

Damien was waiting for her and as always he was wonderful, soothing her anxieties at once and bringing to the day the expectation of adventure. He was in high spirits, his lover wholly in his grasp for a while, and was fizzing with ideas for what she should do.  They quickly agreed the itinerary: shopping in the morning; lunch; check in to the hotel; afternoon rest; evening performance of Anything Goes, the Cole Porter musical showing in a highly praised revival in the West End; dinner; bed. It was a dream day. 

They stopped for lunch with the anticipation of an afternoon at the hotel making them ravenous. Damien found a chic oyster bar in Fitzrovia and wanted her to drink champagne. She'd have rather kept her head clear, but accepted a glass to drink with her smoked salmon and cream cheese in an artisan brown bread sandwich. They sat on tall stools at the bar, leaning together and kissing between mouthfuls.  

"To many happy days like this," toasted Damien, clicking her glass with his. 

Before she could reply his phone rang and he spoiled the moment by answering. 

She sipped her wine and took a bite of her sandwich and watched the colour drain out of his face.

"What the fuck!" He was staring angrily ahead of him, phone pressed hard against his ear. "Are you sure? That can't be right. An email from me? But I'm not at work. I've not looked at my private emails this morning. This must be a mistake. I'll call you back."

Damien put down his phone and pulled out his iPad.

"What's the matter Dam? What's happened?"

He didn't answer at once but fiddled with his iPad. "Give me a moment. Something's come up."

She stared at him, food forgotten. This wasn't some ordinary work problem. He spent minutes tapping away, then picked up his phone and made a call.

"I can't see the message. There's nothing here in my email account. Are you sure this isn't some scam? Send me a copy."

He put down his phone, but before she could say anything, it rang again. This time he looked grim as he listened in silence and ended the call with a "Yes sir."

Now he had time to look at her and it felt as if he was angry with her.

"Someone's playing games and sent a message from my private email account this morning to everyone on my contact list. Apparently it says we're having an affair and claims we got together at your work."

"But how could they and how come it was sent from your email?" Caroline was lost in the implications of what Damien was telling her. "You mean..."

"... Some bastard has hacked my account, told everyone about you and made derogatory comments about your employers as if they are my professional views. That was my boss on the phone. The email's already been copied to your people and they're demanding to know what I've been up to. Shit! You know how some of them hated our recommendations and now they're demanding to know whether I was straight with them or whether I let you influence me unduly."

They stared at one another. Her mind softened by romance, Caroline was still struggling to absorb what had happened. It couldn't be serious. It must be a mistake that would soon be sorted out. So what if people at work knew about her and Dam? Did that matter? Of course it mattered, because of Jack. Every few moments there was the sound of a text message arriving on his phone. He glanced at these and his iPad and shook his head.

"Look Caroline, I have to go back."

"But you can't." Caroline was fighting tears of frustration and rising panic. "How can this affect us?"

"Come off it Caroline. Your crapulous husband must have done this. It's obvious when you think about it. You remember the lunch that went missing from my fridge?" He stopped and thought for a moment. "Yes that's it. The bastard's been in my house. This is some kind of sick revenge. He must have sent the message. Where is he now?"

"At work." Caroline paused and concentrated her thoughts. "But what do you mean Dam? Jack doesn't know about us. I'm sure about that. Only this morning..." Her voice tailed off as she remembered Jack's implacable calm as she got ready to leave. Why did she insist he knew nothing? The horror of her situation suddenly gripped her throat and she choked on a crumb of artisan bread. 

Damien turned his iPad to face her. Full screen and with a startling depth of colour was her graduation portrait. What was he doing with that? She collapsed into tears. 

***

The door closes on Caroline and it's time to act. Jack knows he's let fear and depression paralyse him for too long. All the same, he goes through his mental checklist, reminding himself of the business cliché that every problem is an opportunity. The children: he must protect them, but this lie of a family is not good for them. Caroline: there's no future for his marriage to an unfaithful and lying wife; he's not responsible for her and the good times they shared cannot hold the future hostage.  Money, home and practical matters: there are happy families that live on virtually nothing; one way or another they will get by. Work: screw work. He knows what to do and has the energy to do it. Yes, he's waited too long, but now it's time to pull the house down and share out the pain. 

He gets the children into the car and gives them letters for their teachers.

"It's to tell them I'm picking you up at lunchtime," he explains. "I have to see a man this afternoon and I can't be sure of getting back in time for the end of school. We'll go together and make it a holiday."

"Do you mean I don't have to go to my double French lesson this afternoon?" asks Ben. 

"Correct. Just this once. I'll test you on your vocabulary list in the car."

"I'll shan't have singing with Miss Pritchett. She has scabs on her hands and sniffs," says Amy happily.

"We'll have dinner on the way home," adds Jack.

"Awesome," says Ben. "I'd like fish and chips with lots of vinegar and ketchup."

"You'll have to be good first, then I'll see what we can do."

The mood in the car lightens and they sing songs as they drive to school. Jack drops them off and once more takes the road to Dixborough, but this time without the pain and confusion of earlier visits. 

He stops directly outside Damien's house, puts on his surgical gloves, rings the bells and after a pause takes his key out and lets himself in. He goes directly to the computer and switches on. Opening Damien's email he turns to the sent file and searches for a message he's previously seen. It's a round robin message of the most facile and excruciating kind sent by Damien at Christmas to about a hundred recipients, updating them with photos on his activities in the last year – successes at work, new house, holidays, surfing in Australia, sky diving in Arizona, skiing in the Tyrol. Then there are the rugby matches and leagues he's won, the tries he's scored and the man of the match awards received, and then the charity work and the local politics. By his own assessment he's a very worthy man. 

Jack skim-reads the message to remind himself of its glib, self-congratulatory style, then cuts and pastes the list of recipients into a new message. It's clear from the names that family members are included, friends from work and acquaintances from his various past-times. He opens another email which contains a copy of a work email including a number of business contacts, including some from Caroline's work. Again he copies the email addresses into his new message. Shutting everything from his mind, he starts to write.

"Greetings to family, friends and work colleagues. I have hot news for you all. Open the attachment and raise a glass to my gorgeous new girlfriend Caroline. Isn't she a knockout? And what a great time we've been having (you bet she's never short of energy). Found the sleeping beauty on one of my consultancy missions to the outer edge of civilisation. God were her employers an unattractive, stupid and venal bunch of losers. I swatted them like bluebottles and darling Caroline's my prize. The only downside is she's married with two young children. But I'm working on it and I'll let you know when I've unstitched her from her deadbeat husband. Then we'll be visiting so you can meet her in the flesh – and what flesh!"

Jack takes out a memory stick and uploads a file as an attachment to the email. It's a portrait photograph of Caroline taken at her MBA graduation and she's smiling to camera, radiant and innocent on her day of triumph – a picture Jack has always admired. 

He hits "send", deletes the saved copy of the message, removes his memory stick and turns off the machine.  Twenty minutes after entering the house he's back in his car on the road out of Dixborough, determined he'll never visit the place again. On the way, he throws the copied door key out of the window. He's feeling better than he's done for days.  

He goes home, showers and changes for his afternoon appointment, picks up a change of clothes, games consoles and books for Ben and Amy, eats lunch and goes to collect his children.

Eight hours later the three of them are seated in a Brighton seafront fish and chip shop eating dinner. Jack is tired and a little euphoric and slow in answering his children's persistent questions. The children have been hard at it all afternoon, loving their unexpected holiday from school and revived by the food and sea air. He's beginning to wilt under the strain of his day, knowing he still has to drive home. He turns on his phone when he goes to the toilet and there's a text from Caroline telling him she's at home and demanding to know where he is and to call at once. The email time bomb has detonated. 

He switches off his phone and returns to his children. He's not ready to leave and encourages them to eat ice cream while he drinks coffee. Why not stay the night? There are hotels along the sea front and tomorrow will be soon enough to deal with Caroline. 

He tells the children and of course they like the idea of staying the night. He'll drop them at school in the morning on the way home and they'll only be a little late. 

"I want to go on the beach before we drive home tomorrow," says Ben.

"I don't have my toothbrush or my Panda and teddy bears," says Amy.

"Don't worry," says Jack. "Your cuddly toys are off on their holidays too and I can buy toothbrushes. We'll get up early and walk on the beach before breakfast."

He tries the first hotel and gets a room which can fit them all. It takes time to calm his overtired and excitable children, but he finally gets them bathed, into bed and asleep. He doesn't last much longer himself. Lying in bed, he sends a text to his wife: "Children and I having great day out at seaside. Back tomorrow." 

When he switches off the light he reflects on his afternoon. He's been to visit Professor Pickering, the supervisor of his master's dissertation and the year's research he put into a PhD before family life shut him down. Jack had rung him in the week to ask if he could take up his PhD again and the Professor suggested he came down to discuss it. The children sat in silence with their books in the corner of the Professor's cluttered office and were ordered to behave. The interview went well because Jack had kept up his reading and work had given him new insights into his subject, which was economic history, and particularly industrial and maritime economics. They argued vigorously about the current debt crisis and nineteenth century state subsidies for the shipping industry, which Jack had been writing about when last a student. It was a relief to talk about matters that interested him and to forget his unfolding tragedy. He let himself go, until interrupted by Amy.

"Daddy, I can't understand a word you and that man are saying."

Jack and the Professor laughed and the interview at once descended into jokes and a discussion of the practical issues in becoming a student again. His idea had been to work on the doctorate part-time – perhaps persuade his employer to reduce his hours – and the Professor found him some maintenance and hardship bursaries that might be relevant. Now, lying in bed, Jack wonders whether he should resign altogether and study full-time. Let Caroline deal with the financial consequences and take a turn at providing for the family. It's an attractive thought and he falls asleep in a more positive frame of mind than circumstances might otherwise have allowed. 

The children wake him by leaping onto his bed when the first daylight brightens the room. He dresses them for school so that they'll be ready when they get home, then they walk along the damp sand below high tide to the pier and back to the hotel for a big breakfast. Then he drives home and goes in to school with each child to explain why they're late. 

"Your wife rang," says Amy's teacher disapprovingly. "She didn't think Amy would be in today."

"Crossed wires," says Jack. "She's on a business trip and rather out of the loop."

"We've been on holiday to the seaside," adds Amy unhelpfully. "With our daddy." 

Jack suspects that awkward conversations like this will become the norm and he smiles at the teacher, trying to ooze good intentions. 

He imagines Caroline will be at work, but he's still reluctant to go home. Instead he drives to work, writes a letter of resignation and emails it to his boss. He's just received his annual bonus and in his appraisal it was emphasised how vital he was to the success of a project assessing the financial liabilities in the acquisition of a small competitor. In its own way the email is likely to be as large a bombshell as yesterday's effort. He chats to a few colleagues, tells them what he's done and is suitably gratified by their horrified response. 

He can't find any reason for further delay and drives home. Caroline's car is parked on the drive and he doesn't know whether to be pleased or not. Now is as good time as any to have their discussion. He goes indoors and she's furiously wiping kitchen surfaces. She turns and they stare at one another without speaking. If anything, she's more keyed up than he. 

"Ben only missed his first lesson," he says calmly. "I explained to their teachers so they won't get into trouble for being a little late. I took them to Brighton."

She looks bewildered and nods, but still can't speak. Eventually she says "Coffee?"

He nods too and wanders into his study and turns on his computer. He sees a number of new emails, all along the lines of "Is it true that you and Caroline are splitting up?" The vibrations from his bombshell continue. 

Caroline comes to his door. "Better drink the coffee in the sitting room."

He follows her and sits in an upright chair. She takes the corner of the settee and begins by making sure to keep eye contact. Her voice doesn't falter, but he notices that when she pauses her glance falls away and it takes time to collect her thoughts. 

"I take it you know."

He nods.

"And that you sent the email."

He makes no reply. He has no reason to admit anything.

"This is wrong and I don't like to feel bad. I see I can't deceive you Jack, the man I love. You mean the world to me and I shall love you till the day I die. I thought it best not to tell you but it was hard dealing with the fear that you might find out. Damien and I have talked about it every way and we would eventually have decided you must know. Anyway, you found out. Damien and I have been seeing one another. I love him – I love you too – and yes, we've been to bed, I have to tell you. Please don't take it to heart. I wanted to tell you before, but I was afraid of hurting you."

His wife stares at her hands. Brave and bold, she looks up, but can only meet Jack's stare for an instant. After a while, she continues gently. 

"Damien's a good man and if you gave him the chance you'd like him. You'd find so much in common and he's good to me. He makes me a better person and you've benefitted from that. He likes simple fun – a meal, a film, walking in the park – we've spent a lot of time in the park. I've seen the daffodils and the blossom and the roses come and go. I know you think I'm scatty, but he listens to me and helps me get my thoughts straight. And he lets me pamper him and tells me I'm a star and a beauty and that you're such a lucky man. I come back to you on top of the world and I'm so happy. I've so much to give you. Life is so full. I thought you must have noticed."




Caroline Alone Ch. 02



He shrugs. "I noticed you were cheating on me. How could you imagine I wouldn't?"

She shakes her head but dare not speak.

"How long have you known him?"

Now she looks at him. "Only intimately for three months – since we fell in love."

"And when do you meet?"

"Whenever you don't need me. I've been scrupulous." 

She smiles, having relieved her conscience and emboldened by the minimal acknowledgement implied by his questions. "Please. I love you so much and I care no end what you think. I'm so pleased you're not angry, but you're too deep to read. Tell me what you're thinking." 

"I think I'm dead. No. I'm thinking what on earth have you done and can you really be so stupid?"

He's been unintentionally honest. What does he think? Fury arrives and vanishes like a low-flying military jet, leaving his heart racing. This is a conversation no man should have to endure. 

"Jack, you'll not suffer – grant me that. There's a part of you I've never had. I need company, friendship, fun and you've never wanted those things. But Damien loves my playful side and we have a great time. You need peace – you're happy to sit alone with your books and your thoughts. That's the time I give to Damien. We can make this work."

She wants him to acquiesce to her adultery? Jack's conscious of unexpected physical reactions, like a soldier in the moments after the sniper's shot, making feeble efforts to work out where the bullet has hit. He's cold and queasy and deep inside there's an expanding dullness, like the onset of death, of reliable internal machinery shutting down – of vivid thoughts that are not his. This conversation is as bad as he expected and the feelings he suppressed for so long are now out of control. Caroline watches, horrified. 

"I can see you're hurt and I'm sorry to have been the cause. We none of us planned for this and it's very awkward. I'm asking you to think about my situation too. It's difficult for us all and I need your help to sort it out. We must help each other through." 

Now it is he who fails to meet a human eye, fearful of his weakness. But he speaks in a clear voice. 

"If you need a divorce then let me know. Otherwise I don't think there's much we have to talk about. Oh...by the way, I'll be living in Brighton during the week so you'll have to make new arrangements for the children before and after school. I'll be back at the weekend to look after them. And also ... I've resigned my job so you'll have to pick up the household bills after this month."

Now it is she who looks horrified. "Jack, what have you done? And what about the children? You've not thought about them. You've not thought this through."

"No Caroline, it's you who's not been thinking. I've had plenty of time to work out what I want. It's just that I saw no reason to consult you about my decisions. I'm a student again. I'm going to complete my PhD. I'll find digs near the University library for the week and come home for the children at the weekend."

"You're leaving me."

He shrugged. "You left long ago. Call this arrangement what you like but it shouldn't affect you much. You can have as many lovers as you like – it makes no difference to me. But you'll have to be here for the children in the week and I'll look after them at the weekend. Is that too much for you to manage?"

"It's a bad idea. You've got to be sensible Jack."

"Too late. It's done. Better work out who's going to collect the children when they finish school. I could probably get back in time to do it Fridays. I'll not be unreasonable."

"You're making this as difficult as you can for me. You hate me."  

"I'm getting on with my life. I don't give a toss what you think or how it affects you. One other thing," he adds. "If I ever come home and find your lover here I'll kick his skull in and live happily with the consequences. Keep him out of my house and away from my children. If you need toy boys to fuck, take them to some sordid hotel."

Yes, he wants to make her miserable, but he wants to do the right thing for his children and the only unreasonable part is that he's acted without consulting Caroline. There's the matter of the mortgage too. He'll not be paying any more – his income has gone. Caroline should be able to manage the payments, but he knows there'll be little money to spare. She'll certainly not want to pay for an after school child minder. The obvious solution, he thinks grimly, is for her to use her flexitime to be free from work in time to collect them herself. 

He falls asleep reading his daughter her story and wakes at four in the morning lying on the coverlet beside her. He goes downstairs and collapses on the settee in the sitting room. It's not long before he's asleep once more.  

***

The new regime started immediately. Jack was up early to load the car with what he needed in Brighton. He'd take the children to school, go to work to sort out his leave, collect the children after school and then go back to the university to sort out digs and library access. 

"I'll not stay here and cramp your social life. I'll begin my research at once and my employers can come and get me if they want me. I'm owed enough leave to take me to the end of my notice."

"What do we say to the children?" she asked automatically. 

"I'll speak to them on the way back from school. They won't like it but they don't have to deal with a cheating wife and they'll be fine. I'll promise them to come every weekend. In the holidays I'll do my best to arrange for them to stay with me."

"But what about me?"

"What about you? The more I can have the kids the happier they'll be and you'll have more time for your lover."

"You're a hard man Jack. You know what I mean. I don't want to be alone. I want my family here. Everyone."

"You'll want to be with your lover when you don't have the children. Actually, you can call him your partner. We may still be married, but I'm no longer your partner."

"That's not what I have with Damien. It's only an affair, I explained that. Don't try to make out it's more than it is."

"I don't really care how you describe it. You love him and depend on him. It sounds to me like he's your partner."

"No! You twist things. You're my partner. You're the father of my children and my husband. There should be nothing that can break us apart."

Jack paused before speaking, visibly calming himself. "Really Caroline you deserve this mess if only to put you in touch with the real world. Now it's all very well to chat, but I'm busy." 

"No. Don't go. Don't reject me." For the first time she lost her poise and was on her feet, her voice shrill, hands reaching out to snatch him, tears in her eyes. "We have to talk this through. I've worked hard to understand what happened to me. You need to think about it too. Give me time. Please."

He snorted contemptuously and went out. Caroline felt as if she'd been kicked and Damien wasn't much help when she rang him wanting sympathy. He couldn't understand why she hadn't confronted Jack about the email and demanded she do it at once. She wanted to go to bed and never get up again, but knew that Jack would be back with the children in no time. 

She was not one to reflect on events, but the conversation with Jack played in her mind and she understood that he'd known about Damien for a while and said nothing. That hardly seemed imaginable. She'd never thought about what would happen if Jack discovered the affair – she'd pushed all such negative thoughts to one side. Now she could see how reckless she'd been, supposing without thinking more about it that she'd cope one way or another with whatever happened. But Jack's response completely surprised her. There was no fight or shouting or tears, just cold determination and a feeling that she'd disappointed him. Why hadn't he resisted the affair and fought to get her back? He'd walked away from her and absurdly she felt this belittled what she'd done. She wanted to shout at him: "Jack, this isn't the end of the world! We can sort it out. I shall move heaven and earth to make this alright for you." But he wasn't there to hear.  

Later, the children came rushing into the house full of news.

"Mum, dad's going to live in Brighton," shouted Ben as soon as he was though the door. "We've been there. It's amazing. He says next time we go we can try the fairground rides on the pier. And I'm going sea fishing too. We'll have to get up before dawn."

She smiled and nodded, eyes brimming with tears. Amy rushed into her arms and buried her face. "I want to go with Panda to visit daddy as soon as I can because he'll be lonely on his own," she mumbled so that Caroline strained to hear. 

"Did he say so?" asked Caroline gently, not knowing what Jack had told them and uncertain how to respond. 

"He says there are lots of people at the University but he's always lonely when he's not with us."

"I'm sure you'll see a lot of him," said Caroline. "But I'll have to read your bedtime story in the week instead of Daddy."

"That's no good. You're always too busy to read it properly. I'll read to myself and save the stories Daddy likes until he's home to read them with me."

Caroline was doing her best but all the time was looking out to catch Jack when he came in. 

"Where's your dad?" she asked Ben eventually.

"He said goodbye in the car. He had to go in a rush, he said, and that he'd pick us up from school on Friday. I think it's a swizz him not being here. You tell him Mum."

Caroline began to see how complicated life was going to be, her problems so many and large she couldn't begin to work out what to do. Clouding her mind was the pain of Jack's rejection and his steadfast refusal to accept any part of her point of view. Why couldn't he see she had to do this or else spend her whole life feeling that she'd flunked a rare chance to express and fulfil herself? He was being unreasonable, but if she was honest with herself she knew she should have expected this. That was why she'd kept her affair secret despite her guilt and dislike of behaving dishonestly. She'd believed love would count for something and they would find a way through – her love for him and the love he must still feel for her. She couldn't believe he could just stop loving her after so long together. But when she looked into Jack's eyes she'd found indifference and disgust – mostly indifference; he'd shut her out of his mind and was already thinking ahead to a life without her. 

When she relaxed enough to think, it was money that became the largest problem. How could Jack imagine she could manage on her salary alone? Yes, she was paid well, but her income was already fully committed, she'd never been able to save, and there was a large mortgage to pay off. Worse still were the problems the email had caused at her work. When she'd got back from London she'd gone to work and been called at once to a meeting with one of the executive directors and the head of HR. They'd grilled her for an hour about her relations with Damien and the extent to which the affair had been responsible for the consultants' report which some of the directors had found so objectionable. She insisted again and again that the affair began after the report was written and took place entirely outside work. But of course there was no proof and by her own admission she had discussed the consultants' finding with Damien. By the end of the interview it was clear she was no longer the smart new thing in the eyes of her employers. They hinted that there was a question about whether they could keep her in a sensitive role where she had been shown to be lacking in sound business judgement. If she lost her job, she and her children would be destitute. It kept her awake at night.

It wasn't as if she could turn to Damien. His problems with work were greater than hers and she couldn't help feeling that he blamed her somehow for what had happened. His employers accused him of using the cover of a consultancy to pursue an affair with a customer. Worse, they said, was that he allowed an unprofessional situation to develop which harmed the company's reputation. He'd then compounded the problem by libelling a valuable client. 

His defence was to prove he'd not sent the email. It was fairly easy, with the right help, to identify the IP address of the machine from which the email was sent, but this of course proved that it was his own machine. His assumption that Jack had burgled his house and sent the message was met with scepticism; there was no evidence of burglary. On the other hand, he had some proof, although inconclusive, that he had been in London at the time the email was sent. His demand to Caroline was that she make Jack admit sending the message. She knew this was not going to happen. 

Caroline's once regulated life was now full of drama. When she started her affair it had never entered her mind that money would become an issue. If anything, she saw Damien as an additional asset, an unattached man with a high-paying job who could take care of the extras – the hotels and meals –involved in their affair. Jack had earned more than all of them. His resignation was unexpected and a feeble response to the situation because it hurt the children as much as anyone. She wondered how she would pay the mortgage, the utility bills and buy food. It was ridiculous to imagine she could ask Damien for money to help keep her family afloat. 

She thought about it all the same. Why not ask Damien for help? It used to be that a mistress was kept by her paramour. She couldn't do it because in her mind the justification for the affair was that she was strong enough to manage the consequences. To ask for money would prove this wrong. After more thought she decided a better plan would be to tell Jack that unless he was prepared to shoulder his financial responsibilities she would have to ask Damien to help out. Jealously should prompt a more humane response. 

Amy began to carry her Panda with her round the house and only put it down when Jack came home at the weekend. Caroline told her it was silly behaviour for a girl of nine and disgraced herself by shouting at Amy when she tried to take the battered toy to school. She then had to spend time calming her daughter when she was tired herself and wanted to scream. And Ben complained about the dinners she cooked.

"I don't like onions and cabbage and that's what you always cook. When I go to see my dad I'll have fish and chips."

"You'll eat what you're given and that'll be what we can afford," she told him. 

The first weekend Jack was home they could barely sit together in the same room and said almost nothing to one another all weekend. In any case Jack spent most of his time with the children. She looked for opportunities to discuss the future but the moment never came.

He left on Monday, taking the children to school on his way out of town. When Caroline got to work she was called into another meeting, this time with the Head of HR alone. He offered her the job of Head of Governance and Secretariat to replace her current role in operations. The directorate no longer had confidence in her business judgement and did not want her working in a customer-facing job. She would keep her present salary as a concession and a note of the decision would be put on her record. If she objected, a first stage disciplinary hearing would be started, involving a panel chaired by a Board member. Her behaviour in relation to the consultants' report would be reviewed. Caroline knew she had to accept the change of duties, relieved she had work but in no doubt that the made-up job was a demotion. Back at her desk the humiliation hit hard and she became very angry. Why was she being punished for something she hadn't done? Her affair had nothing to do with her work and in any case the email was a scam. 

She spent the Monday evening writing to all the people who had contacted her in response to the email sent from Damien's account. This included her parents and many friends. 

"Thanks for you concern. Can't say much but yes Jack and I have had a few problems which we are working on. The email you may have seen circulating was a hoax, a criminal act which has caused me a lot of harm and heartache. Please don't add to it and don't believe everything you read on the internet. An exciting piece of news is that after working so long for his bank, Jack has decided to return to his studies and take up his PhD. Of course this requires a sacrifice from all of us but we are going to make it work. It's for such a good cause. Love from Jack and me and the children. Hope to see you soon."

It was in the spirit of bravado that on Tuesday Caroline made the first weekday journey to see Damien since the smash. She took the children to school and could not therefore start early to make up hours, and she had to collect them at the end of the day. There was also a mid-afternoon meeting for her new job and in the circumstances it was difficult to relax.

She was relieved to be with Damien but he seemed tense and reserved, he'd not dressed up for her and had little to say. As was their routine, they made love at once, but it was more vigorous and brutal than ever, and completed in silence. Afterwards they drank coffee and picked at the food Damien had brought. Neither was hungry and the grim topic of the conversation stopped them enjoying themselves. Damien still wanted proof that Jack had sent the email and pressured Caroline to make him admit it.

"Jack's not at home. He's resigned his job and spends the week in Brighton. He's certainly not in the mood to listen to me."

Far from disappointing Damien, this news appeared to please him. "Then tell him you'll kick him out for good unless he comes clean."

"Don't push me. I don't even know that Jack wrote that email. You may have other enemies."

"Use your intelligence." Damien was furious. "Who else had the motive and knew about us and could get hold of a picture of you?"

She was silent, then said in a rush, "I'll do what I can. But Dam, we're alright aren't we? We're not going to let this mess ruin us too?"

"Of course, but we need to deal with work so that we can move on. I'm glad you're husband's left. Now you can give me the time I deserve."

She wanted to remind him that she still had the children – and to say that she would do her best to get her husband back, but they went to the bedroom with little time left and their lovemaking was even more hurried and violent. 

She returned from this visit to Damien shocked by what had happened and unable to explain why she was shocked. Not once had she felt that Damien cared for her or that she had his support. The sex was good. With Jack gone she needed it and no longer had to feel guilty. As a form of communication it was hopeless and they might as well have been strangers. She reasoned they were stressed and pressed for time. Things would get better. But she couldn't avoid wondering if they only shared sex and that now Jack was gone she was making demands of the relationship it couldn't bear. If so, she'd find the energy to repair her relationship with Damien and work on Jack as well. 

"He'll come back when he's calmed down," she assured herself. "He'll realise it's best for the children. And we can work it out so that Damien's not an issue between us. I only need to keep my two men apart and show each that I love him. Damien's worried about his work and Jack's reacting to the shock and his pride, nothing else. In any case, he has no money so he'll have to come back." 

Each night Caroline came home to fractious children and there was nobody to help her. When she finally got them to bed she was exhausted and with nothing to look forward to. She hated her new job and was obsessed with money. And each night she came back to the basic truth about her choice – either remain faithful and commit to her marriage or play around and put her relationship with Jack at risk. She'd taken the risky course and had nobody to blame but herself for the way it turned out. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 02



It was shameful to think how much she looked forward to the weekend. Instead of two disgruntled children, there was handsome Jack and her children so excited they could barely sit still to eat dinner. She cooked a family meal and Ben didn't complain and Jack told them – the children – about his week. He worked in the library all morning, ran at lunchtime and lectured some afternoons. Caroline listened with interest, but made no comment until later.  

When the children were in bed, she said, "Jack, I'm really struggling to manage without any financial contribution from you. They're your kids as well as mine and deserve better than they're getting. You must see that."

"No problem. Cut out the champagne and smoked salmon lifestyle and you'll have plenty to get by. If that's too much to ask, then divorce me. I'm sure the courts will make me pay something, even on my tiny salary."

She was shocked. She couldn't see why he had to speak with such venom, especially after being so nice at table. 

"Jack, will you be serious!"

"My kids are always starving when I meet up with them. Do you only spend your money on your lover? Maybe they should stick with me. What money I have I spend on them – I fill them with soup and bread when I'm short. They love it."

"They're never starving. I feed them all the time. Everything I have I keep for them."

He looked hard at her and she looked away. He said, "Can you honestly say they're your top priority? I don't think so."

"Good try Jack to make me feel bad but it's you who gave up your job and walked out of the family home. Why is it the woman who has to take the blame?"

He shrugged. "Because this situation was made by you."

Fights like this were pointless; they could only serve to drive Jack further away and Caroline cursed herself for her poor tactics.  She really believed that abandoning his career was a feeble response from Jack and punished the children unnecessarily. Before, they'd divided the bills and Jack's share was the mortgage and the household utility bills. Together those amounted to more than the spare part of Caroline's salary. It made her feel bitter even though, she told herself, she still had a home, children, job and lover. All that was missing was her husband and she would bring him back. She must keep her temper and give him time to get over the anger and petulance that led him to move away and quit his job. He was hurting the children and he'd realise his mistake. As for going back to university – that was ridiculous for a man of his age with family responsibilities. She'd thought better of him – that he'd stand and fight to overcome their temporary problems. She'd tell him she expected better from him. 

Difficulties crept up on her. She could no longer pay off her full credit card bill each month. She cut down on non-essentials, including treats for the children. She had to arrange for after-school care and that was a new expense. Long lunch breaks were now out because she could not stay late to make up the hours and collect the children. The children didn't help and misbehaved and were needy when she wanted time to herself.  

At first Damian was phlegmatic about the new obstacles to their meetings. He told Caroline he was pleased Jack was gone because he didn't have to share her.

"I shall get Jack back," she retorted. "This doesn't change our relationship in any way and I want things as they were."

He wasn't allowed to come to the house "because of the children" and, after the first unsatisfactory attempt, they gave up meeting at lunchtime. They could now only meet at the weekend when Jack was at home with the children, but Damien played rugby on Saturday afternoon, with travel before and after when it was an away match. And on Sunday lunchtime he met with male friends at a pub to watch a football match and play cards. And the weekend was the time when Caroline really needed to work on Jack. It hurt that he acted as if pleased when she went out.

The first weekend of this new regime she planned to spend Saturday evening to Sunday lunchtime with Damien. They would go out to dinner and have a whole night together. She would then return to prepare Sunday lunch for the family and Damien would go out with his friends. Jack announced that it didn't fit his plans. 

"I've not seen my kids all week and I intend to be with them. I'm taking them to Whipsnade Zoo on Sunday. If you want to come I won't stop you, but we're leaving at nine and will be home late afternoon. Go fuck your lover but don't bother about lunch. We'll eat out."

Caroline was stunned and momentarily at a loss for words. This was a key decision. She couldn't give up her time with Damien after promising to be with him, yet she hated the idea of Jack taking the children on an outing without her. 

"You should have said earlier," she replied eventually. "I'd have liked to come but I can't change my plans."

"No problem." He went into the garden and threw a cricket ball with his son. 

She knew she'd been outmanoeuvred and made coffee while she thought it through. When it was ready she went to the back door and watched Jack throwing the ball for Ben to hit.

"I've made coffee," she called out. 

"Thanks."

But Jack continued the game and she drank her coffee alone, his mug growing cold. Eventually she decided if that was going to be his attitude she'd go through with her plans and not waste her efforts on Jack until he was more receptive. He needed more time to accept the new order. 

She emailed her plan for the next weekend to Jack so he was forewarned and couldn't claim it was inconvenient. It had required careful negotiation with Damien. He'd given up his Sunday lunchtime and she would be with him from midnight Saturday night, to five the Sunday afternoon. To Jack, she wrote, "The children loved their visit to Whipsnade. It was a great idea and I'm only sorry I wasn't able to come. But there's no problem this weekend. The children have said a number of times they want to go to Fantasy World, which is a thirty mile drive. So we'll set off early Saturday and make a day of it. It'll be great to be a family together again."

He didn't reply at once and when the email came the next day it was brief. "Great idea but count me out. I have to do some shopping Saturday and prepare a lecture in the afternoon."

She phoned him at once. "Really Jack, don't play games. The children will be so disappointed."

"Not if you take them."

She wasn't going to admit her plan would only be acceptable to the children if Jack came. All week they pestered her with comments about how long it was to the weekend, how they wished they were at the seaside, how her meals were horrible and what they would do with Jack when he came. She knew Jack wouldn't change his mind about the weekend and that his plan must be to do everything he could to stay apart from her. For the first time she began to consider that winning Jack over might be impossible unless there was a change in her relationship to Damien. She needed to spend the whole weekend with Jack. She needed time and space in which to work her magic. She emailed back: "Okay, not this weekend then. Everyone disappointed."

A day's leave solved the problem for one weekend. She was with Damien for a whole delightful day midweek from when she dropped the children at school to the moment she left to collect them from their after school clubs. And in return she would be home to care for Jack the whole weekend.  It was a brief respite in the unremitting bleakness of her new life. Jack and Damien had to understand how much she needed their company.

To be continued



Caroline Alone Ch. 03



Foreword

Firstly a word for those who have reached this via the Romance pages: the first two chapters were published in Loving Wives in the last week or so. Please read those first. 

Why publish this chapter here? It seems appropriate to the content. And also because it would be good to have some input from beyond the Loving Wives crowd. If romance is summed up by the immortal Jane Austen ending: "Reader, I married him", Loving Wives is the opposite: "Reader, I divorced the cheating slut and took her for every penny and put her lover in the cemetery. And what happened was all her fault." Don't get me wrong, I enjoy these stories, which carry a primal charge of betrayal and survival in adversity. There are strong elements of the LW trope in my story but I have tried to be fair to both sides and to produce something a little different. Satisfaction comes in a variety of forms. 

I appreciate all comments. The trade-off in posting on a free site like this is to find that you have a readership and that at least some of your readers enjoy what you write. That's enough reward. Suggestions for how to write better are always welcome.

Now, on with Caroline Alone. Be kind...

Copyright MortonGrange 2013

*

Jack's research goes well. He's surfing a wave of mental energy released by the upheaval in his life and he looks forward to his time in the library. For hours at a time he can forget about Caroline. Working for the bank now seems like a prison sentence served long ago. When he does think about Caroline he finds that distance gives him new objectivity. So she's human: she fucked up and has to deal with the consequences. It wasn't his fault and he has no reason to feel bad. More than ever before he realises how much he looks forward to being with his children and how vulnerable and precious they are. 

His part-time teaching hours come about after a couple of combative tutorials with his professor. He argues strongly for his line on the impact state subsidies for the shipping industry before the First World War. At the end of one such meeting his professor unexpectedly offers a few hours teaching and tutoring undergraduates on their preliminary economic history course. 

"I like the way you express yourself," says Professor Pickering. "You say what you think clearly and marshal your arguments with skill. Perhaps business has been good for you and taught you how to get the best out of your mind. Our students will like that. Give them lots of economics and tell them how it is in the real world. There are gaps in your historical knowledge but it won't be difficult for you to mug up on detail."

An income, albeit small, makes a great difference to Jack. Teaching also entitles him to put his name down on a waiting list for University accommodation. When he adds that he's a single parent with children to care for at times, he's given priority and almost at once is allocated a small flat on campus. It's in an enclave of faculty staff, all of whom are in similar situations to his, balancing the precarious life of a temporary academic or visitor with an attempt to establish a stable family home. There's congenial company to stop him becoming depressed, vital discussions with intelligent people and lots of women around. The only reason for going home is to be with the children and he starts at once to plan how he can bring them to stay with him in his new flat. 

Of course Caroline objects strongly.

"You can't take my children away from me."

"It'll be good for them to be away from here and you'd be denying them a good time. There are lots of things for them to do and children of their own age to play with. I'll speak to them and see what they think."

"You're trying to turn my children away from me."

"I'm not trying to do anything other than get on with my life. I suggest you do the same."

Caroline's resistance is undercut by her own wishes. Something comes up -- unspecified but no doubt involving Damien -- which means she wants him to look after the children. He agrees to pick them up.

He meets many of his new academic colleagues for the first time when he attends the weekly faculty meeting. A couple of dozen lecturing staff are there, mostly women teaching literature, brews of herbal tea in front of them, a few grizzled male philosophers and a mixed bunch of historians and classicists. Jack is the only specialist in economics apart from his professor among the historians. He says little at first, watching his colleagues interact, astonished by their personal attacks and overt championing of their subject interests. It's not business as he knows it and he wonders how these people work together to produce a course. The professor of literature who chairs the meeting seems to ignore most people who want to speak. She doesn't introduce Jack and he notices one or two people examine him curiously and with what he takes to be hostility. He determines he'll not be intimidated. 

He's startled when ten minutes into the meeting Professor Pickering introduces him and suggests there is a lack of economic perspective in the current introductory history curriculum taught to first year humanities undergraduates.

"We should take the opportunity provided by having Jack with us to add some economics to the courses on nineteenth century imperialism and also the course on the rise of fascism."

It's clearly a topic that's been discussed before and like everything else one that raises tempers.

"Not on the agenda," snorts one female post structuralist.

"Don't you ever give up trying to browbeat the rest of us? Who cares what Literature think," is the view of a male philosopher.

"We've agreed in the past that these courses are already overloaded," rules the chair.

"Professor Pickering, you continue to appoint men in spite of the University's policy to achieve gender parity among academic staff," says a slender, auburn-haired young woman opposite Jack. She looks serious and fiercely intelligent.

"Seventy percent of this faculty are women," replies the professor. "I'm doing my bit for gender equality."

""But only forty percent in the University as a whole are women and only twenty percent of professorial staff."

"This is a non-professorial appointment in this faculty."

"We don't need economics, we need more about the experience of women," said a wizened classicist who specialises in sexual practices in fifth century Athens. 

"Our students have asked for more economics," says Professor Pickering reasonably. "And the economic issues are especially relevant to the experience of women. Isn't that right Jack?"

"There's a chance to cover the non-waged economy and also include a case study of the impact of the Great Depression on domestic service," says Jack, a little nervous in this bear pit and conscious of every eye on him. He catches the eye of the woman opposite and she looks amused and ready to cut him down. 

"If it reduces the ridiculous emphasis on foreign and defence policy then I'm all for it," she says. "Despite the unfortunate impact on policies to secure employment equality and diversity in this unrepresentative university."

"Thank you, Hazel, for your ringing endorsement," says Professor Pickering.

"Well Dr Kirk, do the men have it?" asks the chair sardonically. 

"We should have a vote," shouts someone.

"There's nothing to vote on," says the chair. "I hear no alternative proposals. Then we are agreed."

"Just what we need -- a white, male banker to save this faculty from bankruptcy," said the woman beside Jack and she gets up and leaves in a theatrical walk-out.

Shortly afterwards the meeting breaks up and Jack discovers from his professor that he's won himself ten additional hours of teaching a week after half term plus time for marking assessments. He can't believe it. Things are looking up. 

He starts to feel at home when he takes up running again. The University campus is set out in a spacious and attractive park which runs down to a river, with woodland and arable fields beyond. He goes out at lunchtime when the sun is high and follows a short route he's mapped that takes him along footpaths where he can run on soft surfaces. He's so transported by the experience and in awe of his novel surroundings that he continues for a second circuit, leaving himself only just enough time to shower and change for his afternoon seminar. He's not felt so good in a long while. 

He runs the following day when it's overcast and concentrates on speed, wanting to make up for recent neglect of his fitness and believing that by setting physical challenges he will help his mental healing. He's crossed the river feeling strong and fit with only a little soreness in his Achilles from the day before and is pounding up the slope through the woods when he sees a runner -- a slender female -- ahead of him. They come to a rutted barley field and he sees she's dressed in lycra tights and singlet, a sweat band pinning back her hair. He's aware that his silent presence in the empty countryside may bother her but can't think what to do about it. 

He get closer and realises the woman has speeded up. She doesn't want him to pass, but he closes all the same. He allows her the full width of the path as he draws level and says "Hi. Great place to run," as he overtakes. She turns her head, face screwed up in concentration and he sees it's Dr Hazel Kirk from the Literature Department, the woman who sat opposite him in the faculty meeting. He smiles and sprints to get out of her way and maintains a punishing speed for the rest of the way home. 

He meets her a short while later walking up the steps of the Humanities building.

"Show-off!" she snaps.

He can't tell whether she's joking and tries a light, self-deprecating tone. "Energy to burn, what with so much mind work."

"Well don't feel you have to impress me."

"No chance of that. I was doing my best to keep out of your way."

"Then you failed."

"No, you failed to keep ahead of me."

They smile fiercely and part. She looks good with her hair pinned back and the colour from running in her cheeks. Nice breasts too in the tight singlet. 

The next day he sees her on her own in the coffee bar flipping through a sheaf of essays. He gets his coffee and sits down opposite.

"Tell me you don't mind me sitting here."

She shrugs. "Why should I mind? I'm busy."

"I'm lonely. I don't know anyone here. We're in different departments but are we allowed to be friends?"

She looked up sharply and they stare at one another. Finally she says, "You don't have to ask permission. I'm mostly happy to talk to anyone. You're angry. Why's that?"

Startled, he looks at her more carefully. Can she see straight into his heart?

"You don't like me?"

"Why answer a question with a question? I don't know you, but I'm interested in the answer to my question. I guess you're damaged and lonely and I suppose that's interesting. I'll buy you a drink one evening and you can tell me all about yourself. Then I'll decide whether we can be friends. But for now I must work."

"Well thanks for supporting me at the faculty meeting."

"I didn't support you. I'd have voted for more feminist literary theory, but we don't have the staff to teach it. You were lucky. Especially for a banker."

"Well thanks anyway. And I'm not a banker now."

They meet the following evening in one of the campus bars. It's a shock to Jack to be back among noisy undergraduates and he looks round, carefree and cheerful at this reminder of his young days as a student. Hazel insists on buying drinks. He asks for a pint of the locally brewed cask-conditioned ale and notices that she drinks water -- a pint of tap water. 

"That is, unless it's gin," he suggests hopefully.

She laughs. "I live on my wits and treat them with respect -- and don't waste money. There's not a lot of it about."

"The next one's my treat."

"I'm only having this one."

"Sensible. Don't overdo it! Tomorrow then. Beer makes me a better person."

They talk about faculty business, colleagues, although Hazel makes clear she doesn't gossip, running and why he thinks beer is good for him. He says something about it making him less self-conscious and more open to expressing himself. She tells him he must find the courage to be himself without stimulants.

"Maybe it's you who's scared of losing control," he replies, nudging her half-empty glass of water. "A gin might do wonders. So are we friends now?"

She nods circumspectly. 

"You're not so scary now I know you a little. We could go running together."

"So you can beat me?"

"Pace you. You'll get better running with me."

They agree to run when they're both free at lunchtime and manage a couple of times a week. He does a circuit with Hazel and then one on his own at speed. He doesn't have as much teaching as she does. 

Despite her demand that he answers questions, they're both reticent about their private lives. But then Ben and Amy come to stay for the half term. He's walking across campus with a child hanging on to each arm and they meet Hazel coming out of the book shop.

"What's this? Bodyguards?" she asks.

"Meet my children. Ben, Amy, this is Hazel, a colleague of mine in the Humanities Faculty. She's a feminist."

"What's a feminist?" ask both children at once. 

"Someone who believes women -- and girls -- should have an equal chance in life and not be subject to discrimination because of their sex," says Hazel.

"And that the world is in the grip of a patriarchal oligarchy, mostly evil bankers intent on destroying civilisation," adds Jack. 

He receives a withering scowl. His children are used to him saying incomprehensible things and in any case are more interested in Hazel, who asks them questions about themselves. It's a reading week for some courses and there's more free time. Jack tells Hazel he shan't be running and invites her to an afternoon picnic by the river. She resists, but gives in gracefully when he insists and it's also clear the children would like her to come. 

This is Jack's carefully planned ambush. The children are loaded with water and orange juice. He brings vegetarian sushi, white wine and fruit salad. He even brings a rug, remembering how women if invited to sit on the grass will always say it's wet even if it's not rained for months. The children love the river and he has to keep his wits about him as they run down to the bank and find branches to throw in and chase as they float downstream. 

Hazel arrives bearing home made pizza and a flask of soup and impresses him by her competence in dealing with two shy children. She chats to them easily and even gets them to try the soup. He notices how she expertly questions them to discover the details of the life that he's hidden -- who their mother is, what she does, why she's not there. Shy Amy clings to him and tells her that her Daddy doesn't live at home any more and that she misses him because there's nobody to read her a story. Ben explains that his mum's always late picking him up from football practice and it isn't fair. Hazel accepts a glass of wine and Jack starts to think he's done the right thing. When they've eaten she goes for a short walk with the children, shows them the rabbit runs where the long grass is pressed down and the gaps in the hedge which lead to the hidden burrow entrances. Then they look at the scratch marks and water vole's holes in the river bank. 

Ben goes to sit beside Hazel. "Dad says you're a teacher. What do you teach?"

"Literature. That's the study of books and what people have written."

"What books do you teach?"

"All books."

"Which is your favourite?"

"Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindication of the Rights of Women."

"Would I like it?"

"I recommend you read it before you're grown up but maybe leave it a while." 

"I'll see whether she's written one about men and read that."

Later, when she and Jack are alone, she says, "So you're a married man and never told me. That was forgetful of you."

"Married for now. It didn't seem relevant to the conversations you wanted. As you see, we're separated. How about you?"

She looked hard at him and shook her head. "Why do you ask? Because all women of a certain age must have a partner?"

He laughs. "I meant nothing of the kind as you well know, although you're suspiciously good with children."

"I have a younger brother and sisters and nephews and nieces."

"And a practised line in interrogation."

"Children like you to show an interest in their lives."

"Admirable. But getting information from you is like trying to squeeze a diamond."

"What is it you don't know and think you should?"

He thinks carefully. "Whether you to want a closer relationship with me and whether you're free to have one."

She also takes time to think before she replies. "I don't believe in relationships based on dependency. I've always had to move for my studies and career -- the U.S. west and east coast and Spain. No relationship survives distance and I see no reason to compromise my career for a relationship."

"It's not so easy to be detached and self-sufficient when there are children," he replies.

"Lots of single mothers manage."

"All the same, children are dependent and demand commitment. It's easier for two adults to give that and to do so they need to commit to one another."

"Why do you say that? It seems you and your wife separately deliver your children's needs although you're not committed to her."

"And the children suffer. But you win. I don't want more commitment. Commitment is bad because it means you're not self-sufficient and others might let you down."

He turns away from her searching gaze and doesn't like this conversation. He has no wish to explain to Hazel why he's no longer committed to Caroline. His failed marriage, for him, is a humiliation and not a proper subject for discussion. And he's frustrated with himself because what he'd really like is a little sympathy for his plight and for her to show he matters to her. Pathetic. 

Beyond that, he struggles to understand what he wants from Hazel. She's not easy by any meaning of the word and yet he looks forward to her company. Is it because he's lonely or because he needs a relationship to prove he's not a failure? He even wonders whether he's instinctively searching for a partner to help with his children. His rational mind warns him that the last thing he needs is to be tied once more to a woman. She's beautiful and sexy, but there must be better prospects for sex than Hazel; he need only sign up for a dating web site. But that doesn't appeal. Sex isn't top of his list of issues and his interest in Hazel isn't primarily about sex -- or even about making a new relationship. It's simply that he likes her and she intrigues him. 

He and Hazel are both very busy, but cook for one another once each week and run together at lunchtime when they can. They chat mostly about teaching, faculty, research and administration. She asks about his children, but it's rare that he can get her to talk about herself. He knows she was brought up and went to school in Bristol, that her parents live in Bath and that she was an undergraduate at Cambridge University before doing her PhD on William Godwin, Mary Wollstonecraft and Mary Shelley in the faculty in Brighton. Her supervisor was the bearded witch, now dean; academia is an incestuous world. He can't discover much about her social life before he arrived. Talking to her faculty colleagues it seems she's always been ambitious, a hard worker who's happy to do the administration others avoid -- admissions or course director or Senate representative. This is her first permanent teaching job. He knows a tough, career minded woman, just like Caroline, is the last person he should hitch his wagon to. Easy to say; not so easy to arrange.




Caroline Alone Ch. 03



***

Caroline was determined to work on her relationship with Jack. She was far from the ideal, as she had expressed it to herself, of keeping her two lives in balance. Jack had slipped far off centre and she had to pull him back.

She avoided excessive familiarity, but dressed carefully for his return at the weekend, smiled welcomingly and made a point of touching him as many ways as she could get away with -- on his hand, his arm and shoulder. But no kisses or sexy embraces which he could use to push her away.

"It's fun to be together again," she told him. "We know one another so well. We have so much to talk about and I'm worried we're drifting apart. We must both work hard to make sure that doesn't happen. I'll arrange things so that we have as much time together as we want. I've done everything I can to protect what we have."

"Damien not getting any this weekend?"

"Not this weekend. I'll be honest. Damien knows we have our fling when you're busy and won't miss out. Our life can be as it was before."

"You're having a fling?" 

"Not a fling. I love Damien. I'm not deceiving you, but it doesn't affect me and you."

"You weren't being dishonest all those months when you hadn't told me -- when you were fucking Damien to find out whether it was serious and I was going to work thinking I had a loving wife who spent too many late nights working hard?"

She was silent, saying eventually: "You're clever with words. You can always make me seem in the wrong. But Damien and I love one another very much and you can't twist things to make that seem bad. I wish there was a way to show you what a good man he is. You'd not be jealous if you saw what it is that makes me love him."

"It's not just fucking then?"

"We don't fuck, we make love." She began to cry -- another novelty, but not necessarily unscripted. Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, she said, "I didn't mean to talk about me and Damien. I know it's painful for you. I wanted this to be about us. I love you; you know that, and you know how much I care for you. There's no point in punishing me. Maybe what's happened doesn't seem fair to you -- it's not what you signed up to when you married me. But neither did I. The unexpected happens. I'm as surprised as you and I need your help. Damien is a special man and I can't behave as if we never met. He's part of my life and we have to work out how to deal with the consequences." 

"What do you suggest? That you're my wife four days a week and Damien's the other three? Or the other way round. You've been with me a long time, so Damien has some catching up to do. I'll give him the extra day."

She shook her head, new tears falling, and he went to make coffee. When he came back, he saw that Caroline wanted to try something different too. She sat beside him on the settee. 

"Darling, this isn't going well. We need to work at understanding one another. Stick with me. We need a better plan."

"You work at it. You and your sweetie. I'm sure you'll come up with another plan, like the one about telling me I'm superseded."

"No Jack, that's never been true. Our marriage is worth fighting for, but you act as if you don't care. That makes me very sad. I'm sure if you think about it you'll admit you could have done more to stop me falling for another man. We need to be together more."

"You mean if I hadn't gone off mountain climbing when you told me not to, when I had to work and you were stressed, when I refused to do what you wanted. You mean if none of that had happened you wouldn't have needed to take a lover. Fine. I get it."

She flushed. "I told you, it wasn't planned. I didn't go looking for a lover."

Three months before there had been a huge problem between them. For months he'd been asking her where she'd like to go for a holiday and she'd been unwilling to agree to anything. Now he knew that was because of Damien but at the time he imagined it was because she didn't like the places he wanted to visit. Eventually he'd given up and booked a holiday to do what he wanted alone. She'd been furious, complaining about the childcare, but he'd gone anyway, walking and climbing in northern Greece. 

She was silent, then brightened up and looked at him again. "I understand how much pain this has caused you. You think it's because of the sex but it isn't. That's your stupid vanity. I can't deny Damien sex because I love him and it's part of my expression of what I feel. It's only like having a good meal with someone. You dress up to add to the occasion, to savour the moment. And you can enjoy a business meal as well as one with someone you love. I love Damien and we want to give one another pleasure. Sex is a way of showing how we care. I adore it because I adore him. I want to be perfect for him, but only because I love him so much." 

Now she was pleading with him, pleading to be allowed to explain, to declare her love and have him bestow his approval. 

"Please listen to what I say. I love you too. I do. Just as much as I ever did. I have a huge capacity for love -- far more than most people. Damien changes nothing with us. I'm your wife and share your life and I love you. I know you better than anyone and I know we need one another. Damien will never be in the way of that. I'll make sure. Now I want you to come to bed. I hate you sleeping away from me. You can't be comfortable on the settee and it only makes me feel bad."

"You may be right. I'm a limited lover in every sense. Small capacity for love; limited in bed; and make you feel bad. I see it now. Strange, but I can't sleep beside a wife who's dreaming of her lover."

"Please. It's important. I want to be with you. To show you my love."

"Why? You imagine I want to sleep with you? Don't you know me at all? You think I want to sleep with a woman who's just fucked another man? If that's what I liked, I'd find a whore."

She flinched. "That's a horrible thing to say."

"What a horrible thing to do. Anyway, I appreciate your directness. Be thankful for mine."

"Must I apologise again? I meant to act for the best. Sex mustn't get in the way of anything."

"Don't worry, it won't. It's not going to happen between us. Ever."

Their eyes met and he was gratified to see that at last he'd cut through her make-believe. She put down her wine glass and stood up. 

"How can you spoil everything when I made such an effort?"

"You're right. I'm such a bastard. But don't worry about me. I've made lots of friends and the University, some special. I'll not suffer." 

He said that to give one back for Damien but realised in the instant of speaking that it was true. Hazel was very special. Just thinking of her made him feel better.

"This isn't what I wanted to happen." 

"You'll get over it. I have. I don't even think about Damien these days."

She stormed out of the room and he was running again, running like he had never run before -- dead, bloodless, inspired. 

Another weekend she came to him flustered and angry. 

"My dad rang and said they called when you were here. Did you speak to them?"

He nodded.

"You did tell George they couldn't come tomorrow? We can't have my parents upsetting things, especially now we're getting on together so much better than we were."

"Of course I said they could come. I like your parents, they're good fun and I don't want them to be disappointed. You'd already told them they could stay and I see no reason to renege on the invitation."

She was furious. "Don't be obtuse. That was before you went to Brighton. You know why they can't come. I suppose you intend to continue this charade of sleeping on the settee, and what will they think?"

He shrugged. "Are you afraid of the truth? They're grown up. Let them come to their own conclusions -- or you can explain the sleeping arrangements. See whether your mother thinks your two-men-in-a-marriage arrangement is so very sensible. I'm sure they'll understand. Or are you afraid George will decide his darling daughter is behaving badly?"

She was grim. "That's a very selfish attitude and I think you're trying to punish me. If you won't do what's necessary, I'll put them off. But why should they have to suffer?"

"You're right. It doesn't seem fair. Perhaps you should tell Damien it was all a mistake, that mummy and daddy wouldn't approve." 

"And I'm worried about sex," she added. "It would be good for other reasons if you shared my bed."

"Isn't Damien giving you enough?"

"Don't be crude. I'm thinking about you. It's not good to be without."

"How do you know what sex I'm getting?"

She looked at him hard. "I assume that as you refuse to be with me, you're getting nothing. If you're sleeping around, I think you should tell me."

He smiled back at her. "You mean, in case I pass on some nasty disease. But don't worry, I shan't wait more than three months before letting you know I'm cheating. Isn't that what you did to me? In any case I shan't be fucking you, so don't worry, you're not at risk of any contagious diseases from me."

"I'm not sleeping around," she murmured. "I'm only with Damien and we love one another. You don't risk anything with me."

"Strangely, it's a matter of whether I accept your word -- or Damien's. You're sure he's not got a string of compliant mistresses, a man with a proven record of chasing married women?"

She slammed the door and went to bed. For the first time in a long while, Jack considered he had won an important victory. But the next morning she came into the sitting room and was contrite.

"I'm sorry about last night. It's just that I don't want to upset my parents. They're very old fashioned and conventional and won't understand if they find you ostracising me and sleeping on the settee." 

"They'll understand exactly. And anyway, you're not worried about them being upset. You're worried they'll be upset with you. And if they're upset isn't that because you've done something you know will upset them? Tell them the truth. Tell them you cheated and that you've got a lover and that we're separated. They'll cope much better knowing the truth than with your lies."

She was bewildered. "But we're not separated. Why do you say that? It's just that you have to work away from home in the week. That's what I told them."

"We don't live as husband and wife, therefore we're separated."

"We're making this work. Don't dare say anything so wicked to my parents. In any case I've got something arranged with Damien when they want to come. So it's not convenient. They have to cancel."

"Not a problem. I told Stella I'll look after them if you're busy. She said how much they're looking forward to coming."

"You bastard." There were tears in her eyes. "You're doing this to screw with me. I'm meeting Damien tomorrow as I'm sure you've guessed. It's his birthday and we planned to go to the theatre and a meal a long time ago. That's why I didn't want my parents to come this weekend. Please, instead of making things difficult for me just mind your own business and stop making everybody unhappy."

He shrugged, angered by her manner. "I like your parents. They're decent people and the children are looking forward to seeing them. I'll tell them I'll meet them with the children in town for a meal. So it's my business, not yours. Then they're going shopping. Bring Damien along if you want when you've done humping. Introduce him to your parents and make him a proper member of the family. If he's so much in love with you he must be dying to meet the parents."

She looked tired as much as angry and did not reply. For once he slept soundly on his narrow couch.

Caroline used the time when the children were staying with Jack to rebuild her relationship with Damien. She would go to his house after work and stay the night. They cooked together and ate while listening to music. Afterwards they made love. It was a beautiful arrangement, but it soon became clear to Caroline that Damien was reluctant to do this more than two nights a week. It wasn't that he had other things to do; just that he liked his own company and was bored if she was around too much. It was why he remained a bachelor, she supposed; he simply wasn't the marrying kind. 

"It's okay," she assured herself. "This is what I wanted. I don't want to marry Damien and it means there's still a chance to reconnect with Jack. When our new life settles down he'll be grateful for how little time I spend with my lover." 

But for now she was left with evenings and nights alone at home, which were miserable. However long she delayed leaving work, there was nothing to look forward to but a cold house, nobody to cook for, and an empty bed. It made the evenings with Damien even more precious. 

When Sunday came and she'd spoken to nobody all day, she moped about the house tidying the kitchen, watching soaps on television and thinking about dinner. Her excitement grew as it was time for her family to arrive. Jack had promised to get home in time for dinner, but it was seven before they arrived, tired from their journey and hungry. She hugged and kissed her children, smiled at Jack and touched his arm.

"I'm so pleased to see you Jack. I hope the children have been good and you've enjoyed your time."

He nodded, pulling away. "And you too. I know it's tough managing the children on your own and you must be grateful for the break."

"Dinner's ready. I love it when you all come home. I want you to be here always. It's so nice to cook for you Jack. You always appreciate your food."

He sat with them and ate a little, but did not pretend he was enjoying the meal. She'd made a stew because it was cheaper than buying a joint of beef. The children enjoyed it but it wasn't the same as the Sunday roasts they used to have. She'd thought of buying wine but decided it was better to let Jack see her poverty. If he wanted wine he could bring some. 

Conversation was mostly with the children. They told her about the picnic with Jack's friend Hazel and how Hazel knew how to make delicious pizza with tomato and olives and herbs, but no cheese because she was a vegan. Caroline couldn't believe the effect this conversation had on her. It was as if she'd been replaced as wife and mother without any discussion. 

"I can make pizza too. I'm just too busy. And mine would have cheese. Don't pretend you don't like cheese."

"Hazel's are good all the same. She doesn't eat cheese because they kill the male milk calves at birth. I think that's disgusting. But I'll eat cheese because I like it and when I'm grown up I'll stop them killing the calves."

"It's silly to have fads about food. You should eat what's put in front of you," said Caroline. "I don't think Hazel can know much about bringing up children."

"She's fun and Dad likes her and I like her," said Ben. "But she's useless at football."

"And she's my friend because she's good to Daddy," said Amy. "He takes her running and she makes him laugh. And she's helping me with my art project for school."

"I'd have helped if only you asked," said Caroline. "And I've always been able to make Jack laugh. It's wicked to say I can't."

***

Time passes quickly when they are together and Jack can never turn Hazel down if she calls and suggests they eat. And she must like him; she calls often. And she lets him hold her hand and kiss her when they meet. But once, when he put his arm round her waist and held her tight, she pushed him away. "You're trying to smother me," she said. He objected but she wouldn't have it. She's a difficult one and he's not sure he has the strength to wrest open the door to her heart. He reasons she doesn't understand her feelings for him and he wonders if she's never been in love. 

He buys her flowers and she tells him, "I don't accept gifts. Exchanges are fine -- you buy me coffee, I buy you coffee. But unsolicited gifts I send back unopened. If you accept them you always end up paying more than they're worth."

"You mean, I buy you a rubber band full of daffodils and expect sex in return."

"Exactly."

"Except I did better than daffodils. These are roses. And I don't expect sex -- anyway, not for the roses. You have strange ideas about men. But seriously, I mean that you were great with my children. You gave them a lot. Not just by being interested in them but in showing them their dad isn't lonely and miserable. That's important to them and I wanted to thank you."

"I enjoyed meeting them too, so I've had my reward. I don't want flowers -- or to feel some vague obligation to you."

"What if I don't demand a kiss in exchange for flowers, but just take one like a cave man?" he asks and immediately does what he's suggested, kissing her lips. "Now you'll have to do the same to me so that you're not left indebted."

He's relieved when she laughs and does as he suggests. The kiss lingers but Jack knows better than to take too many liberties. He finds an empty juice bottle and ostentatiously stands his roses in the bottle in the centre of her table. She smiles. Shortly after they both have to go to work, he in the library, she lecturing.

The children come for the weekend. He knows Hazel loves the children's company and she's coming with them on a trip along the coast to Wittering where there are sandy beaches. He drives the short distance across campus to her little terrace house in the streets behind the University Park. He's in a silly mood and when Hazel answers the door, he says to his children, "Say hello to your daddy's personal trainer. She takes me running and keeps me on a strict diet." 

"No burgers," says Ben. "Hello Hazel."

Hazel says nothing and Amy looks alarmed.

"We're here to claim our kisses in return for my roses," Jack adds, searching for something light-hearted to say.

Still Hazel says nothing and suddenly he realises she's paler than he's ever seen her and she's trembling. He springs forward and takes her hand.

"What's happened? Are you unwell?"

She shakes her head, speechless. She's cold and when he puts an arms round her she sags against him, barely able to stand on her feet.

"Hazel! What's happened?"

She's breathing hard and her face is wet. 

"My mother rang." She sobs in a mouthful of air between words. "My dad's dead. He's had a stroke."

He holds her tight and kisses her forehead. "You poor thing. I'm so sorry."

He motions his children into the house in front of him and pulls Hazel into the hall. Her arms go round his waist and she crushes him against her and he can feel her silent sobs from deep within her chest. His children are round-eyed and fearful, standing at the end of the hall and staring. He has to do something and lifts Hazel off her feet, carrying her into the sitting room.

"Come on you two, help me make Hazel comfortable."

He puts her on the settee and she's still clinging to him. He must get her to speak.

"When did your mother call?"

"I don't know -- a few minutes ago."

"I want you to sit quietly for a bit and then we'll decide what to do. I'm going to make tea."

"Sit with me."

"Ben and Amy will sit with you. I'm making tea."

He goes to the kitchen and puts on the kettle, finds her green tea and her tea pot with its tulip-shaped tea cosy. Glancing back into the sitting room he sees his children sitting either side of her on the settee and Ben is telling her something about school. Her arms are round them. 

He's been thinking while he makes the tea and when he hands her a cup, he says, "You'll have to go and see your mum?"

She nods. "But I've classes tomorrow. I have to go in to work."

"I'll call the department office and they'll fix something for you. And you can't drive yourself. You're still shaking. I'll drive you to your mum's. Then I'll take the kids back to their mum. Sorry kids, no seaside today."

"I can't ask you to do all that," says Hazel and begins to cry. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 03



"It's not a big deal and you haven't asked. I'm simply trying to help. Now I'm going to ring the office and tell them you're not coming in tomorrow. They'll understand."

"Thank you."

He makes the call and when he comes back Hazel has finished her tea and perked up. She's doing her best to smile for the children. 

"I'm sorry about the seaside," she says looking at Jack. "I can manage now."

"You should do what my dad says," Ben tells her. "He always knows what to do."

"I will." Hazel drinks more tea while Jack collects what she needs. 

It's a three hour journey along busy roads. When they arrive they find Hazel's sisters with her mother, a short, round woman with grey hair who greets him politely but seems not to know his name. It's different with her sisters who are all over Hazel and then inspect him and his children with insolent curiosity. 

"So this is your boyfriend," said the younger one, Mimi, as she kisses Jack. "My ... he is tall, dark and handsome." To Jack she adds. "I thought we'd never be introduced. Hazel usually hides her boyfriends in the cupboard or under the bed."

Hazel doesn't challenge this description and moments later all attention is on the children, who hold back shyly until drawn in, petted, quizzed, given drinks and taken into the sitting room where they are set up to watch DVDs. 

"I don't know where you're all going to sleep," says mother, walking in and looking at the sleepy children.

"Jack will sleep with Hazel and the children can go in dad's study," says the older sister Clementine. 

"I can manage anywhere. On the floor if necessary," says Jack, glancing at Hazel. 

She says nothing and departs with her mother to the kitchen to prepare dinner. He's left with the younger sister and takes the opportunity to discover what he can from Mimi about Hazel's family life. Apparently she was the smart one from the day she went to school, won all the prizes including a scholarship to Cambridge and can't explain to any lay person what her academic subject is. Mimi in turn demands to know all about Jack and remarks that Hazel's men who get introduced vanish by the time she sees her sister again.

"How frequently do you meet?" he asks wryly. 

"At least once a year. She gives the impression of being a ball-breaker."

"I've not noticed. But she's hard to get to know."

"Hazel won't buy us sweets because they're bad for us, or chocolate because it's made with slave labour," adds Ben. "But she's very nice."

"She said she never had dolls when she was my age," said Amy.

"She's a liar. She had dolls but got rid of them," said Mimi. "I have one of hers still. I had to buy it from her because she said she'd bury it in the garden as a protest. I'll show you."

Jack goes into the kitchen where Hazel's mother offers him coffee and biscuits. Hazel is peeling potatoes and both have been crying. He asks if he can help and is told to go away. 

He goes back to the sitting room and sits with Clementine, who also talks about Hazel. She wants to know about her work and Jack explains the firebrand feminism, and the shock interventions at the faculty board meetings, and the concern for students and the incisive deconstruction of literary texts. 

Over dinner he has to tell the story of himself and his family, with the children chipping in. There's a sombre gap at the end of the table where father would sit and an eagerness to laugh at anything. Of course he says nothing about Damien and with the children present the others can't ask why he's left their mother. He talks about his old job and how pleased he is to have given it up. 

Later he has a moment with Hazel and tells her he can't take advantage of the situation to end up in her bed. 

"Don't be stupid," she says. "I'm not going to rape you and we're both grown up. We both need a good sleep."

He deals with bathing the children and getting them to bed. Mimi gives a hand and gets some books from when she was a child to read to them. She's very like Hazel, but softer and gentler. It makes him realise how much he admires and responds to Hazel's spikiness; he needs a woman who's mentally tough and gives as good as she gets without complaint. She might be difficult to know, but if she thinks something's important, she'll say so. 

They all have a drink before bed -- Hazel has just the tonic water. Everyone is subdued, thoughts no doubt on their loss, and Jack sips his scotch wishing he'd met Hazel's father. 

"Dutch courage!" he remarks, hoping to lift the mood, and knocks back his drink when it's time for bed. Everyone giggles and Hazel slaps him. He says goodnight and takes her arm, leading her upstairs. 

He gets into bed first. She potters about, changes in the adjoining bathroom and returns in a tee shirt with the words "Faculty Whore" emblazoned on it. 

"Post ironic?" he asks.

"How would you know?" She turns out the light and folds herself into his arms. 

He lets her lead. They kiss and she holds him tight. After a while she explores his body, the muscle on his forearm and the hollow of his armpit, the curve of hipbone and buttock. He reciprocates, his hand moving from shoulder to breast and he's only concerned that after such a long period of abstinence he'll disgrace himself. He smells her hair and bites her ear and runs his hand down her back. He's knows she can't resist. She's lost to him, willingly or otherwise, and he squeezes his fingers between her thighs. Moments later he's buried inside her and he's telling her that he won't last long. This proves to be a good prediction. But he starts again almost at once and concentrates on showing he's an accomplished lover. Hazel seems to like it and he tries to decide how experienced she is. All he can say is that despite her feminist zeal she's content for him to be the man of action while she lies back and takes it. They fall asleep clasped tightly in one another's arms and he can't remember the last time he was so happy. 

It's very early next morning and they've just made love again when the children rush in demanding to know whether there's going to be any breakfast. Hazel and Jack lie side by side on their backs with the sheet pulled up to their chins.

"Hang on you two!" Jack protests. "You shouldn't come in to a grown-ups bedroom like that. You should at least knock."

"It's alright. We knew you were in bed with Hazel and it's time you were up," says Ben. "Mimi told us. She's been showing us the garden."

"Okay, you win, but don't do it again."

Alone again, Jack says to Hazel, "I should divorce Caroline and get this situation sorted out." 

"I'm not the marrying type," warns Hazel.

"Maybe not, but you're mine. And I'm a one-woman man."

It's time to drive the children home. 

A few days later, Jack goes for a coffee at the end of a difficult seminar on labour unrest in England before the First World War. When he was a student there would have been vigorous argument about the merits of organised labour, trades unions, socialism and communism, but now the young don't seem to care. It depresses him and he wonders how to make the subject exciting. The weather's warm and he takes his coffee outside and sits on the lip of the fountain that forms the centrepiece to the concrete piazza. He tries to relax and create the right frame of mind for work in the library for the remainder of the day. A student from the seminar comes over and asks about the reading list and he chats to her, aware that she's doing her best to flirt with him. He concentrates on thinking of alternatives to the books she can't find and eventually she leaves him alone. He closes his eyes, trying to empty his mind, looks up and sees a man, vaguely familiar, walking over to him. One of the faculty? -- he doesn't think so. 

The man stands directly in front of him. "Look here. I want to talk to you."

Jack says nothing. The man wears a grey suit, has curly grey hair, a little long, and looks directly at him -- accusing him. Not faculty: this is his nightmare incarnate -- Damien Curde. Jack remains seated, motionless and tense, curious to see what's going to happen. It's a confrontation he's done his best to avoid but he's not sorry it's come. He looks steadily at Damien and although his enemy is fifty pounds heavier and intent on menace he knows he's not going to retreat. This is his ground and he'll not be beaten. 

Damien's voice is thin with tension and there are flecks of spit as he speaks. He's nerved himself to have this confrontation. "I suppose it was your pathetic revenge. You fucked up my life so admit you sent that fucking email. It's obvious but you've got to admit it. You've got to sign this statement here. What you did was criminal but if you admit it I'll let the matter drop."

Damien's crowding Jack's space, thrusting forward a sheet of paper, eyes bulging, lips compressed, the spit on his chin.

"Go home." Jack doesn't know where this voice comes from; and with it he experiences a rush of adrenalin. He stands up so they're face to face and he's staring directly into the bloodshot eyes. It's hard to believe that this perfectly nondescript man has undermined and wrecked everything he spent his life building. He's not just defending himself but his new life, his children, the whole of civilisation. "I don't have to do anything. It's you that's fucked up. Now get out." 

"I've spoken to the police about the burglary of my home. I gave them your name and they'll get you in the end. Much better sign this statement."

"Crawl back into your fetid hole and don't come out again. If you hang around and make trouble I'll happily kill you. Nobody will miss you."

"You're the loser. Just sign!"

Jack flicks his coffee so that the dregs splash Damian's shirt front and drop on his polished patent leather shoes. He thinks he'll lose if Damien fights; but so be it. 

Damien is sweating -- not at all the cool, controlling consultant. This isn't the time for the "who pulled the first punch?" variety of honour. There are people around but nobody seems to be watching. Jack grabs Damien's lapel and tugs him round.

"Get out of here before I kick you out." 

Damien swings round and lunges, his haymaker punch looping past Jack's cheek as he jerks to one side. The next one is on its way and he avoids it, responding with a flick of his wrist, knuckles scraping across Damien's stubbly chin. A return blow catches him in the ribs and winds him. Getting close, he jabs Damien's gut causing a deflating sigh, snatches hold of his tie and drags him forward. Damien staggers, one leg crashing into the raised side of the fountain. Before he can regain his balance, Jack gives him a push so that he trips over the lip and falls, water cascading everywhere.

A dozen people are watching. They don't look surprised and clap in a weary fashion as if they've seen it all before. No doubt it's common for undergraduates to end in the water after a night drinking. Damien splashes to the side of the fountain, but Jack walks away. It needs willpower but he continues without looking behind him. The paper he was told to sign is lifted by the breeze and flutters across the piazza and he keeps walking. He expects to be chased but he reaches the library and passes through the gate using his security card. He starts to tremble and sits down on the nearest seat, picking up a newspaper. He's feeling good. In fact he wants to shout at the top of his voice and punch the air. 

The feeling lasts until evening when he's arranged to meet Hazel in the bar for a drink at the end of her late lecture. She's there with a few students when he arrives and gives him a bleak look as if annoyed at being disturbed. He asks politely if anyone wants a drink and goes to the bar to get one for himself. When he returns the students have gone and he bends to kiss Hazel. She doesn't waste time or spare his feelings. 

"Are you trying to shame me? I trusted you and now I discover you're nothing but a street bruiser. How could you?"

Stunned, Jack sits down. "Hold on Hazel. I take it this is about my encounter with Caroline's lover. What do you think happened? It's between him and me. That bastard came after me and I defended myself. I was excessively restrained compared to what I might have done."

"Brawling in public? This is a University -- we pride ourselves on training minds to deal with the world's problems. How could fighting help your situation? I hate what you did. There's always another way."

"I should have let him hit me?"

"You should have walked away."

"I did as soon as I could."

"Fighting in front of everyone on the University piazza. You're notorious. I feel humiliated just by knowing you. I hate that kind of thing."

"I did nothing to you."

"It's against everything I stand for. What chance is there for women if men assert themselves with their fists? Equality requires living by civilised rules and respect for one another."

"I didn't hit a woman. It was you who said nobody owns anyone. I take responsibility for what I did but it had nothing to do with you. And if it happened again I'd do the same. I'm not a pacifist; I believe you have to fight for what you believe. It's just that most times you don't have to fight with your fists. I'd say you think the same and that men's physical strength can be used to defend equality as much as it's a threat."

"You don't know me at all. Violence is wrong. I believe in living by principles. I don't want to know someone who uses his fists to relieve his feelings." She gets up. "Don't bother making dinner for me."

She stalks out of the bar leaving Jack alone with his drink and feeling as if he's been flattened by an avalanche. It's no help to his emotional state when a couple of drunken rugby types lean over and give him a cheer.

"Good on you mate. We saw you dump that tosser in the fountain. Ace."

It feels as if everyone is staring, everyone has witnessed the fight. He wonders what to do about Hazel, but is so upset to think he's lost her, so humiliated by her assessment of him, that he leaves his beer, goes back to his flat, changes and runs to the river and through the woods beyond in the gathering darkness. His past has not lost its power to drag him down and leave him prostrate. 

Hazel keeps out of his way the next day and the sniggers that greet him at the start of his seminar alert him to a problem. Eventually one of the male students admits he's on YouTube. Someone filmed the fight and posted the footage on line. He shrugs and does his best to make a joke of it.

"And you thought I'm a cuddly theoretician. Now you know I'm a muscular economist who throws those who disagree with me into the fountain. Exactly why I was a success as a banker." 

"We knew you were a banker so it's no surprise to find you soaking the man in street," says one wag.

There's half-hearted laughter and he pushes the incident out of his mind; the fight's only one more consequence of Caroline's reign of terror and he's not going to let it drag him down. 

The next day he gets a call midmorning from his professor telling him to go to a reception for some visiting academics in the Senate House.

"You're the only one of my staff I can rely on to own a decent suit and tie. Dress respectably and represent economic history to the great and good. It's a chance to show your face -- and get a free lunch." 

He arrives a little late and the first person he sees across the crowded conference room is Hazel. She's wearing an exotic silk scarf with panache -- her idea of dressing smart. He recognises nobody else and the visitors are a senior delegation from an Indian university. There's wine, soft drinks and a finger buffet. He fills his plate and determined to be a credit to himself deploys his business skills and starts to network. He joins a desiccated scientist talking to one of the visitors and adds a little humour and wisdom; then he talks to a lonely-looking man with half-rim glasses who turns out to be the Dean of Engineering. They chat about mountaineering, an interest they discover they share. Jack refills his wine and moves on to a couple of the visitors who are talking to a woman in a tweed suit. One of them is an economist and they talk seriously about banking, the European debt crisis and financial regulation in the emergent economies. It's a vigorous discussion and they exchange strong views. 

The visitors move on and Jack is left talking to the tweedy woman. Belatedly he realises she's the University's Vice-Chancellor. She asks him what he's doing and about his research and what he thinks about the history curriculum. He enjoys the conversation and notices Hazel watching him. She's still talking to her friends -- she's not circulated at all. "So I'm a street bruiser, an embarrassment to women, am I?" he wants to shout. The Vice-Chancellor smiles graciously and moves on. He feels good about his professional life and helps himself to more food. 

It's Friday and he leads a seminar at lunchtime before driving home in time to collect the children from school. He's looking forward to this moment but feels unfit for the ordeal of sharing the weekend with Caroline. He hopes she'll be out most of the time with her lover. 

He and Ben are sitting in the car waiting for Amy to come out of school when Ben tells him, "Mum was crying and shouting a lot this morning. I think she's very cross with me because I tore my shirt putting it on and it was the only clean one. I had to wear yesterday's dirty one."

"I'm sure it's just a mix-up," he assures his son. "We'll sort it out when we get home. If necessary we'll buy some more shirts."

"And I got a detention this week because I couldn't find my tie and went to school without one. I told mum and she said it was my own fault."

"Not if you did your best to find it. We'll get another so when you find the old one you'll have a spare."

"Thanks Dad."

His daughter raises his spirits and they do a detour to the shopping centre to get clothes for Ben, new pens for Amy and to delay the moment when he meets his wife. All the same, she's waiting for them and he sees at once she's dressed up and made an effort with her appearance. He lets the children go in front of him and pre-empts her greeting by saying, "You look very nice. Dressed up for your lover?" She blushes and reaches for him. His flinch is involuntary. "Stay away from me. I don't know who you've been with."

He's never said anything so gratuitously offensive to Caroline before and she's shocked, stepping back and looking at him strangely. 

"Please Jack, I'm sure I deserve it but please don't. I can't take much more."

He makes a guess. "What's the matter, lover done a bunk?"

She nods and bursts into tears. "Damien's got a job in London. He was so angry when his employers wouldn't believe him about that email. He walked out and got a job with their biggest rivals. I don't think our relationship can survive the distance. It was frayed in any case."

Jack digests this information in silence, working out what it means for him and understanding that Damien's appearance at university was an act of desperation, linked to this crisis in his professional life. It was good to think their little spat might have helped to drag the bastard down.

"Don't be hard on me Jack. I've cooked a lovely meal. Come and eat. Let's try not to hurt one another."

He sees the sense of that, but adds all the same, "I'm not the person you should ask for sympathy. I'm glad your lover's gone but I'm sure you'll find another poor sap to warm your bed."

She looks away. "Please Jack, it doesn't do any good. Come and eat."

This time there's wine. Jack bites his tongue when he's about to ask what's the special occasion they're celebrating, instead accepting a glass with good grace. He decides to bring in some groceries the next day to help with the housekeeping. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 03



All are hungry and they concentrate on eating. Jack looks round the table and momentarily the scene is indistinguishable from how it would have looked a year before. Appearances are deceptive. He eats and knows he must decide what happens next. He wants to talk to Caroline about the children coming to live with him and decides to wait for another time. 

After dinner he goes on a tie hunt with Ben and they make a game of it. In minutes he finds the red striped snake at the bottom of the washing basket in the bathroom and Ben's spirits are much improved. When Amy's ready for bed he gets her to talk about her week at school and she tells him she's learning the recorder. He promises to buy some books of exercises. They start a new story she's saved to read with him, but after a while she says, "Daddy you're falling asleep! I'm giving you Bear to hold because last time you fell asleep on my bed you squashed Panda and he was very cross."

"I'm not!" he protests and very shortly afterwards he's asleep. 

They next day they go shopping and Jack imagines that with Damien gone Caroline supposes everything has been restored to how it once was. He tells her that Ben must have a proper school uniform with a spare of everything and she whirls them round the shops buying what he needs. They can't find Amy's recorder book, but he tells her he's bound to find it in Brighton where there's a good music shop. Then they shop for food and he buys a gargantuan meal for the evening and food for dinner every day of the week. Caroline lets him spend his money and says nothing, but he can see she's happy. 

It's a week to the end of term, when the plan is for the children to stay with Jack. He wonders how Caroline will handle this. She'll hate being on her own, he knows, and he wonders if she'll try to see Damien in London. He mentions his plan to collect the children and she says at once that she'll bring them to Brighton. 

"It'll do me good to get some sea air and I'd like to see where you're staying. The children have told me so much about the University."

He's surprised but can't object and wonders what she's planning. Does she imagine that if she tries hard enough she can get him back? Even Caroline must realise that's not realistic. But when he considers it, he knows it's just what she thinks.

To be continued



Caroline Alone Ch. 04



Foreword

Thank you to those who have taken the time to read my story and especially to those who have commented. I hope you think it was worthwhile. Writing is a strange experience, a compulsion which makes for hard work and leads to unexpected results. 

I've done my best to get this post finished as quickly as I can and have beaten my weekly schedule. But writing is a slow business for me, so don't expect any new stories for some while. And despite some commentators who think me verbose (fair enough) I think this was a novel-length plot which I have skimped. Must try harder. 

Now for the last part of Caroline Alone. It was Alfred Hitchcock whose advice on scripting was: "Torture the woman"... 



Copyright MortonGrange 2013

Part Four

The children were excited as they packed clothes for a week and chatted and sang songs in the car all the way out of the city. Caroline knew they were happy because they were on their way to see their father, but she was in good spirits too. It seemed like a holiday for all of them and she'd not had a chance to enjoy being with her children for a long time. It was foolish, but she was eager to see Jack's new home and hopeful he'd be more relaxed on his own territory. If they could at least be friends she'd chip away at his bitter shell and with a wholehearted effort she'd find a way to reconnect. They'd always enjoyed one another's company, so why not again? 

The traffic was bad; they took some wrong turns; the motorway was shut by an accident and it was raining. By the time they found somewhere to park at the University, the children were bad-tempered and hungry and she was exhausted.

"We need a place to sit down where we can eat when Jack comes," she suggested to her children, who were racing about now they were out of the car and eager to show her the campus. 

"That's where Daddy works," said Amy, standing in the piazza and pointing proudly at the concrete and glass Humanities building. 

"Let's go to the Refectory," said Ben. "Dad says they do good burgers with six types of relish and the chips aren't bad. We've not had a chance to try the burgers yet."

He led the way to the cafeteria, which was noisy with staff and students grabbing a quick lunch, greeting friends and stopping to do business between the serving counters. They eventually found a table and Caroline sent Jack a text to let him know where to find them. She hoped he wouldn't be long because they were hungry, the children kicking one another irritably under the table and looking round at the endless procession of people in the hope of seeing Jack.

"There's Hazel," said Ben suddenly straightening in his chair. He called out. "Hello Hazel. I bet you're having the soup not the burgers."

She was talking to a woman with a braid in her hair but looked up and smiled, glancing cautiously at Caroline as she came across.

"Hello Ben. Hello Amy. I hope you're having a good day out. A few more years and you can come to my lecture. Not the place to try and get some peace," she added as an overture to Caroline.

"Hazel's Dad's girlfriend," said Ben to his mother by way of explanation.

"Actually I'm not," said Hazel. To make it sound less like a put-down to Ben, she added, "But I remember we had a great picnic by the river when I brought my soup and you taught me to play football."

"You do make sure Daddy's not lonely," said Amy.

Nobody knew how to reply to this and Caroline eventually said, "I ought to introduce myself. I'm Jack's wife and these are my children. Do you work with him here?"

"Not as such. We're more like competitors. In the same faculty but with incompatible educational and pedagogic ambitions. He's with the fuddy-duddies bellowing for more of the exclusive male curriculum where they recount the triumphs of great men."

Caroline brightened up. "You're not friends then? Jack does take his subject very seriously."

"Jack didn't tell me he was married and I didn't pry. I hope Ben and Amy think of me as a friend. We've had fun together."

"Please sit down. This is a difficult conversation but I'm worried about Jack and don't know what's going on. If there's been a misunderstanding then I expect it's my fault. I wouldn't want you to feel badly about Jack."

Hazel didn't look happy, but pulled up a chair from another table and sat down a little to one side, facing Caroline. 

"What about the grub?" asked Ben hopefully. 

"In just a moment," said Caroline and began to tell Hazel the story of how Jack had given up his job in a bank to pick up his studies and how she admired and supported his commitment despite the financial hardship and the travelling. Hazel looked grim, clutching her bag to her chest and the children sat in silence watching the two women. 

Caroline was explaining how strong-willed and inflexible Jack could be when he finally arrived and stood beside the table, uncertain what to do.

"Daddy!" Amy jumped to her feet and flung her arms round his waist. He bent and kissed her, then ruffled Ben's hair.

"I want to hear how the football went and did you play in goal?"

"Six nil, six nil. We walloped them and my teacher said I kept a clean sheet."

The women stared and Caroline half rose to join in the kissing. Jack crossed to the other side of the table and sat in the chair between his children.

"Jack, it's good to see you," she said brightly, but saw that he was watching Hazel. "Hazel and I were getting to know one another. It must be so exciting working among all these smart people."

"I hope you had a good journey down. It can be busy mid-morning on the motorway," he replied. There was silence and he looked at each person in turn. Abruptly he stood up. "I seem to have killed the conversation. Much better if I leave you women to gossip. You kids coming with me?"

"But I was promised a burger," protested Ben.

"I'm going with my Daddy," said Amy and grabbed his hand as he walked away.

"Maybe I can have a burger another time," said Ben and hurried after them. 

"Well that was pointed," said Hazel and let out a sigh. "Tell me Caroline, why did Jack come to Brighton? Are you separated – I mean estranged?"

"Is that what Jack said? It's not quite like that. Shall we get a coffee?" 

***

The sun has come out and Jack takes the children to the sea front and they eat beefburgers and chips from a kiosk in the open with a wary eye on the circling seagulls. The meal is not great, but fills everyone up and there are no complaints. He's upset by the encounter in the Refectory and knows his children are put out, that their day is failing to meet expectations because they like having their parents together with them.

Jack texts Caroline to say where they are and after eating they walk along the promenade. Ben spots a crazy golf course where the ball is knocked over miniature bridges and through tunnels and into the mouths of painted monsters. He's intrigued and insists they have a game. Jack concedes and they collect balls and putters and wait for a go at the first hole. Ben takes the competition seriously, planning his shots but mostly over-hitting them. Jack has to help Amy by reaching his arms over her shoulders and holding the putter with her. They have great fun after some early mishaps, giving Ben a serious challenge, but he wins on the last hole. Hot and thirsty, they look round for ice creams and discover Caroline seated on a bench watching them.

"You looked so happy. I needed a rest and watched you play," she explains. "Jack, I'm sorry about what happened just now. It was an accident and I didn't mean to put you out. I'd not prepared myself to meet Hazel and I was embarrassed too."

"No problem. Not your fault. We had a good time without you. I'm just going to get the children ice creams. They'd like to go on the beach."

They sit down on the pebbles at the top of the beach and the children take off shoes and socks before running down to the sea. Caroline is seated beside Jack on her folded jacket and screens her eyes from the sun so that she can watch her children splashing in the waves.

"You've given up on us haven't you," she says. "I suppose you want a divorce and I'm so sorry for the children. It's obvious that Hazel's after you." 

Jack thinks carefully before replying. "Divorce may be a good idea."

"I explained to Hazel about Damien and made clear I mean to keep hold of you. I think she found it difficult to understand my point of view. If you ask me she takes your side. But I shan't let you go. I'll fight her to the bitter end." 

"She doesn't need to know about our sordid life."

"I want to be sure there's no misunderstanding. I shan't allow you to escape."

"Is that realistic? You're right, we're finished. I'm glad you worked it out eventually. We were done the moment you took your little detour from married life. I'll want a divorce, but for now it's not a priority. Much more important to get the children settled. I'm trying to think straight, do the right thing for them, and I think they'd be better off staying with me in the week next term. There are good schools here and cheap after school facilities on campus. In any case my work is more flexible than yours."

"You want to take them from me."

"This is about them, not you. Think about what's best for them."

"Leaving me alone."

"You have Damien. Go chase him. For once think of someone other than yourself."

"Don't mock me. Please Jack, I want you to think again. My affair with Damien had to happen. I'd have been a coward to turn away from his offer of love. It was my destiny and it hasn't worked out well, but don't punish me for trying. Now we can go back to how things were. I've learned my lesson."

"Me too. I don't want to live with a woman who betrays me when it suits her. I'll not do it, even for the children. They deserve something better."

"I never betrayed you..."

"Even now you've not given up on Damien, you're simply hedging your bets. You're still thinking about yourself before the children and you never stopped to think what your actions meant for others. What you did was carelessness or stupidity – it doesn't matter which. If I'm married I have to respect my wife. You're good company, sexy – all the things that interested me from the beginning – but I don't respect you now. It's not about blame – maybe you really can't help yourself. It's just that I know you're bad to be with; you can only bring me more misery if I stay with you. You should walk round with a red flag warning people to stay clear for their own safety."

She's crying and when the children rush back she gets up and runs up the steps onto the promenade so they won't see her tears. The children don't notice; they're enjoying the beach and want Jack to come and look at the dead jellyfish they've found. He goes with them to look. 

Caroline drives home when they get back to the campus, not waiting to inspect Jack's flat. 

The next morning Jack cooks a big breakfast of bacon and eggs for Ben and Amy and while they eat they talk about what to do with the day. He's bothered because he wants his children to have a good time, but he must also work on notes for a Monday progress meeting with his professor about his research. They're seated at the table finishing breakfast when the doorbell rings and Jack is astonished to find Hazel on his doorstep. She smiles and takes her hand from behind her back to present him with a single red rose. 

"Isn't this what a man does to show his lover he's contrite? Jack, it's a token of how I feel about you and I'm sorry."

Jack takes the rose, uncertain what to do. "You don't believe in presents."

"Nor do I make a habit of admitting mistakes, or of presenting men with roses, but that's why I'm here. Can I come in? Please tell me everything's alright and we can start again."

"I'm surprised but of course you can come in. And I bet it's the children you want to see."

"Jack! I'm sorry. I made a big mistake. Now relax and let me put it right. I'm not going to hurt you."

She takes his hand and kisses him before coming into the kitchen and saying hello to the children. Ben's very pleased to see her and lets her kiss him. 

"I saw you kiss Dad. You are Dad's girlfriend. I knew all along." 

"You can't know that unless you've been told," said Jack confused and wary. "Otherwise it's like teasing a boy in your class by saying you saw him kissing a girl when you know they'd hate you to say that."

"But we saw you in bed together," says Amy. "So Hazel must be your girlfriend."

"That was a mistake."

"Letting you children see us was a mistake, but not being together," says Hazel. "My body was the intelligent part of me. My mind's not to be trusted. My mind's a whore, my body's a saint. Amy, you have a wonderful father. Jack was there when I needed him, but I pushed him away when he came to me for comfort. I shan't forgive myself."

"Of course my daddy's wonderful," says Amy judiciously. "He's good at reading stories and knows what every word means."

"I'm not a total baby," says Jack. "I met you for a drink the other day, not for comfort. And you stuck to your principles, which is good. It's just that your principles don't add up. Sit down and have some breakfast."

"It's bacon and eggs," says Amy. "There's nothing for you to eat except the tomatoes." 

"Fried in the bacon fat," warns Jack. "We weren't expecting a vegan to breakfast and I like my children to have a square meal."

"I only want coffee. But can we sit down first?"

Jack sits down and she perches on his lap, puts her arms round his neck and kisses him provocatively.

"Yuck," says Ben.

"We ought to go away. They don't want us here," says Amy. 

"No!" protest both adults. 

"I'll behave myself," says Hazel, "But I had to show your dad how I feel about him. Sometimes I'm an idiot and I was one this week. I only hope Jack can forgive me."

"Dad's okay when I do something bad," says Ben. "He always forgives me. But don't stand near when he's cross. It's grim when he shouts."

"Ben!"

"See what I mean?"

Jack feels a long way behind the game as Hazel takes over the discussion of what to do for the day and fits into the family as if there's been no interruption. He can't make sense of what she's doing but doesn't want to put her off. Is everything suddenly alright? It can't be so and he's still angry with her for rejecting him. But he's pleased she's there and can't take his eyes off her. 

"Changed your mind when you saw I'm friends with the Vice Chancellor?"

She looks at him, checking to see whether or not he's serious. 

"In your dreams. I'm the permanent lecturer here with doctoral students, you're the student with a few temporary hours teaching first year undergraduates. I'm not impressed with whoever you know, especially when it involves sucking up to the boss. But dressed up in your suit – what a knockout."

They spar agreeably and both start to relax. Jack imagines taking Hazel to bed and sees with amazement how contented his children have suddenly become. Is it because they have some instinct for recognising goodness? 

It's agreed they will make the trip to Wittering, abandoned the day Hazel's dad died. Jack can work on the beach while she helps look after the children. It's as if getting dumped by Hazel was only a dream. They collect food for a picnic and when they're ready they drive to Hazel's house to pick up more things – a wind break and a rug to sit on. The sun's shining and it's set for a warm day.

The beach is sandy and not at all busy and they settle down, Jack with his laptop and the children with buckets and spades. With help from Hazel they start making sandcastles. Jack shuts everything out, even Hazel's slim body in its fetching bikini, and for an hour concentrates on work. Then they eat the picnic and he plays badminton in turn with everyone, including Hazel, who's mocked even by Amy she's so bad. Then he works again, but with his eye on the children. Hazel sunbathes, eyes closed. Then the children are busy defending their sandcastle against the incoming tide and Jack and Hazel kiss and it is like a dream. 

"Jack, you're a married man with children but I'm a novice. I've worked hard all my life and never really had time for love. This is all a surprise to me and I'm having to learn how to deal with it. I was confused when I said those things about you. You were right; it was your principles being tested with Damien, not mine. I have no right to judge you and I let my feelings for you affect my judgement. I've never felt this for anyone before and I was protecting myself, telling myself I shouldn't trust my feelings.

"Then your wife told me what she'd done to you and all I could think about was the pain you must have been through – how it must be torture. And it made me feel bad to think of your pain and how I'd made it worse. Believe me, it didn't take me long to work out who was behaving badly. I can see how you are with your children – even how patient you are with Caroline, despite everything she's done to you. You think about others first and only then about yourself. I should have understood my feelings for you, but couldn't admit them. Nor could I just apologise. I was afraid of you, afraid of what you'd say, afraid of you rejecting me, afraid of doing the wrong thing. 

"I've had boyfriends before, of course, but they've never amounted to anything. They confirmed everything I thought I knew about relationships – mad, masochistic, dangerous and ending in unhappiness all round. With you I'm out of my depth and I was responding with my fatuous ideas about how to behave – to show I could stand up for myself and won't take nonsense from anyone. I wasn't listening and was blind to what was happening in front of me. I'm a fool. 

"Look Jack, let's stop messing about. I came back only because I love you. It's a bloody awkward feeling because it keeps putting me in the wrong. And maybe I failed to admit to myself that I loved you. Can't you see, it's hard for me to say this to you, but I need to know how you feel. If this is embarrassing you and you wish you'd never met me, then say so. I don't like muddle. I want to know where I stand."

Jack listens in stunned silence to this declaration of love and has to collect his thoughts quickly. "That rose you gave me. I'm as sentimental as a nine year old girl like Amy. I'll press it in my copy of Das Kapital, so no one will find it and I'll have it for evermore." Jack kisses her and wipes the tears off her cheeks with his finger. 

"You're a clever woman. You know I love you, but you also know I'm confused. I can't believe my luck meeting you, but I'm worried that somehow at least part of what happened with Caroline is my fault and I'm not a suitable person to love you. And I'm terrified – with good reason – that this is just a dream and you're going to vanish as suddenly as you came. I'm still married to Caroline, which seems like a big obstacle, I'm worried about the children, I'm worried about my job and my research, I'm worried I'm going to crack under the weight of all this mess. It doesn't seem like the right time to be falling in love. 

"But then I don't have any say in it. I'm more experienced than you and I trust my feelings and I know I love you. I couldn't be happier. I want to pull you tightly against me and never let you go."

He carries out his threat and they kiss and caress one another until they look up guiltily to check that the children are alright. The sandcastle's submerged, the water's at their feet. The children have moved to another fortification and are furiously digging sand to strengthen the walls against the flood. The sun has never shone so brightly, the sea never looked so beautiful, the golden beach so peaceful. 

***

There was no reason for caution because Caroline was alone, but it still felt wrong to call Damien on the home phone. She'd decided to suggest meeting in London. Anything was better than spending the weekend on her own. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 04



"Dam, it's me, Caroline. I hope things are going fine. What do you say to me coming down to London on Saturday or Sunday? We could go to a show, have a meal, you know what. What do you say? It's what we always wanted."

There was a pause before her lover replied. "Look Caroline, I don't think that's a good idea. I've been pretty busy since we last spoke. Guess what? I lasted a week in my new job. The curse of the cheating wife strikes again. Someone rang my boss and told him the reason I left my old employer. Even sent him your asshole husband's email as proof I'm unsuitable to represent my illustrious new employer. Said my employment was cancelled because I'd failed to declare all relevant information in my application. Gave me a month's salary and said I was lucky to get that. So I don't have a job. I'm on the dole and don't have the cash to throw about on high maintenance mistresses. I'd do better to hire myself a cheap and cheerful tart."

"That's awful Dam. Oh, how dreadful." Caroline was struggling to adjust to this unexpected development. 

"And I bet your shithole burglar and bully of a husband is wetting his pants in delight. Let's face it Caroline, you're bad news. You're like the clumsy innocent in those screwball comedies who walks into a shop and leaves mayhem and destruction everywhere he goes."

"Look Dam, I'm really sorry this has happened. What if I have another go at getting Jack to own up to the email?"

"Don't make fun of me. Why would that psychopath do anything to help his oh so loving wife, especially when it's for her lover? Try and be smart for once in your life."

"I am. I'm trying to stay positive and I've a great idea. Much better you come here. I'll cook for you and we'll be really comfortable. No need to spend money. I've had a busy week too so it'll be good for both of us to stay in and watch a few films."

"Come to your house? Do you think I'm stupid? What do you think we're going to do? Cuddle up in your sitting room and listen to DVDs? You talk as if I don't know you, don't know what we have between us. We'd end up in bed. That's what we do."

"We have more than that; so much more."

"We'd be in bed and that psychotic husband of yours would find out and he'd come after me and drag me out of the house by my balls. Afterwards you'd probably sit down with him and have a laugh about it."

"Jack's not here. He doesn't care what happens here now he's got the children. Be with me and we'll make one another better. Don't be afraid Dam, we can make this work."

"Truth is Caroline you're not exactly the person I'd choose to pick me up when I've had a setback. Since when have you cared about anyone but yourself? If you're being nice it's because you want something. You're not the kind to offer support. I always thought your husband must be a saint to put up with your fancy airs and your running around. Let's be honest: you're a good fuck, end of story."

"I didn't know that's how you felt," said Caroline. "Are you telling me there was never anything more than sex between us?"

"You know there wasn't. The rest was childish playacting on your part – a bit of excitement to make the week go faster. We got together and fucked. Fine by me – that's what I wanted. But you, you needed to pretend it was something more, that you were playing the role of some grande horizontale and thinking what a smart actress you were, happy so long as I flattered you like a diva and picked up the bills."

"That's cheap of you Damien."

"Cheap and accurate."

They were silent for a while. Then Caroline said, "Are you telling me it's over?"

"You said it. I'm skint, shafted, stuffed, busted, done over. It couldn't be more finished. It was a stupid affair and now I need to simplify my life. Penury isn't very sexy and right now I'd rather be in bed with an anaconda than have to deal with your carnivorous ways. Quit with the satisfaction of knowing you've dragged me into the gutter with you."

Caroline cried until she went to bed – uncomplicated tears of self-pity. In bed she went to sleep thinking of the clever put-downs she should have made to Damien. Mostly they were variations on a simple idea: "You bastard, you let me think you loved me and all the time you were lying." But alone in the bed she'd shared for so long with Jack the words tripped her up. Instead of the gratification of accusing Damien, she could only hear Jack using the same words against her. It wasn't true; she'd always loved Jack, but what he saw was betrayal and she heard the echo of her own words: "You let me think you loved me and all the time you were lying."

The next morning she woke with the energy to take charge of her life. She wrote out a list of what she must put right. It was a long list, but writing it felt good. First problem on the list, because it was the most pressing, was money. There was an obvious solution to her poverty – sell the house and find somewhere cheaper to live. She'd speak to Jack; he wasn't coming back and had no reason to object. 

Then there were the children. They were with Jack now, but should she let them go to school in Brighton? Of course she wanted them with her; she hated to be alone; she hated them being away from her; and mum must always be best. But she knew they preferred to be with Jack and that his steadfast, reliable good-sense was what they needed. On her own she struggled with the punishing schedule of getting them to school and collecting them and making meals and getting them to bed. She became stressed and caused unnecessary confrontations and upsets, especially in the evening when they were all tired. They blamed her for driving Jack away and were too young to be told the true situation. 

Respite came only when they were with Jack. Jack was right; she couldn't put her needs in front of theirs. She denied it to herself but when she spoke it aloud she knew they were better off with Jack. Everyone thought badly of her, but she would show her courage by doing the right thing, go to Brighton and inspect schools. 

Work was the next problem. She hated her new job and was sure everyone guessed she'd been sidelined. Colleagues who'd once been craven were now bold enough to show she'd lost her power, openly flouting her demands. She blushed whenever she met someone she thought knew of her demotion and imagined everyone gossiped about her situation behind her back. Loss of authority led to loss of confidence. The only way was to find a new job and start afresh, but she was well paid for what she did and she needed every pound she could earn. It was only her pride that got her to work every day. 

Then there was Jack. She accepted reluctantly that he wasn't coming back. She'd have stood a chance of winning him over, she thought, now she'd lost Damien, if it hadn't been for Hazel. But she knew Jack. Hazel had snared him and there was no way he was ever going to escape. One day, but not for a long time, she'd cry for her lost marriage; she couldn't now because it was too painful to admit her part in its destruction. All the same, she could fight for a shred of Jack's friendship and even, in time, win back his respect. She must try for the good of the children – and because it mattered to her. 

Lastly she had to examine herself – a failure from every point of the compass. The weekend after Damien gave her the push, she drove the hundred miles north to stay with her parents. They were pleased to see her, listened to her story and never once criticised her. They asked about Jack and the children and did their best to hide their disappointment that they wouldn't be seeing them. She told them she'd ask Jack if they could come to Brighton to visit the children and they thanked her with dignity. She spent the weekend in bed, ate her mother's meals and felt a little better when she returned home. All the same, she was burdened by the weight of her parents' disappointment and knew they were hiding their true feelings to protect and support her. That's what good parents did. 

In spite of everything, she continued to believe she'd done the right thing. Her mistake was not in having the affair, but in failing to keep it secret; and when it was discovered, lacking the swift-wittedness to convince Jack he should let it take its course. Her love for Damien was genuine, despite his brutal rejection, and it would have been cowardice to go against nature and play safe. She took a risk and came out the loser. But that didn't make it wrong. She wasn't going to let anyone say: "She got what she deserved". 

She took a week's leave and rang Jack to tell him she wanted some time with the children and to look at the schools. He was kind, asked how she was doing and whether the money situation was any better. He suggested she stay in his flat with the children and he'd sleep with Hazel. She accepted gratefully, knowing she had Hazel to thank for his charity. 

It became a week of bizarre situations. Jack did everything he could to help her, trying his hardest to anticipate awkward situations and make her comfortable. At first she thought he did it to get her to agree to the divorce he now said he wanted, or for the benefit of the children, but she realised he did it for Hazel. He was determined to show his lover he could be civilised and charitable and help a woman in trouble. 

Jack came to dinner in the evenings because the children demanded to have their parents together. They sat around the table and Ben and Amy willed them to say nice things to one another. And they did. Jack no longer flinched when she came near him and they kissed cheeks on meeting. He asked about her work and she told him about the change of duties, although without explaining the reason. He talked about his research and the chances of getting more teaching hours. The children listened to their parents enthralled, and she wondered what they were thinking. They knew Jack loved Hazel and must realise their parents would never get back together. And she knew they loved Hazel too, because they talked about her incessantly. Their world had been broken apart and they must imagine she would be pleased to hear how wonderful Hazel was, relieved that some good had come out of the disaster. 

She and Jack agreed to sell the house and split the proceeds. They discussed divorce and agreed on an amicable arrangement which would minimise legal fees. 

"I'll do it because I know you want it Jack. I'd rather stay married to you, and not just for the children. I'd wait to see whether one day we could be together again."

"Too much has happened. You can't put the egg back in its shell," replied Jack. 

He brought food and wine for the meals, suggested places to take the children and asked how she was doing. Damien wasn't mentioned. She wanted to tell him it was over, but why bother? Jack wasn't coming back and it would only give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd won in the end. 

They discussed schools and she visited those on a list they drew up together. Once more Jack was right; the children would be better off in Brighton.

Another mad scene in a mad and strangely happy week: she invited Hazel to come to the evening meal and Jack played with the children while she and Hazel helped one another in the kitchen, mashing potatoes, making gravy and dishing up the meal. She noticed Jack watching this with an air of mild bemusement, but everyone was happy. 

Hazel, it seemed, was without anger or jealousy. Now Jack would allow Caroline to kiss him and even, once in a while, get her arm round him and give him a squeeze. He'd grin uncomfortably and Hazel would smile, secure in his love. Seated round the table with a glass of wine and laughing at her children's stories, she was struck by the irony of her situation. When she was in love with Damien, she'd expected Jack to accept her lover. Now the positions were reversed. Her lover was gone and it was she who was expected to smile and be brave as her husband kissed his lover. For all that, she enjoyed the meal and invited Hazel again. 

Of course she went to bed alone and then she couldn't avoid a nightmare of jealousy and resentment. Her family had been taken from her and she was left with nothing. Others were happy and she was not.

The house went on the market and sold almost at once. She gave away most of the contents because Jack wanted nothing and she had nowhere to store what was left. Her plan was to rent a flat, but on the spur of the moment she resigned her job and went to live with her parents. They welcomed her, gave her back her childhood bedroom and cleared out another room for the children when they came. Her father even gave her pocket money and paid her petrol so she could collect the children. She was back where she'd been fifteen years before, a school leaver waiting to go to University, living resentfully with her parents, lonely and poor and uncertain what she wanted from life. 

With nothing else to do, she made an effort to get in touch with a few people she knew from school who had stayed in the locality. They now had big houses, intimidating corporate husbands and hordes of boisterous children. Only once was she careless enough to explain the circumstances of her marriage breakdown and was met by such incomprehension she never mentioned it again. 

She found a job eventually as a clerical assistant in an accountancy practice. It was tedious work and poorly paid but freed her from the humiliation of taking her father's pocket money. The children were now with Jack in the week in term and she visited or collected at the weekend. At half term she brought them home to her parents and did her best to make a home for them, always feeling they'd rather be on the south coast with the beach down the road and Jack and Hazel to make a cheerful home. To rub it in, Amy announced one day she was a vegan and refused to eat the meal her grandmother had cooked. It caused consternation all round until the next day Amy made it clear she thought chicken and cheese were allowed. 

Caroline was still living with her parents when the children had moved into the new school year and Christmas had come and gone. She'd fallen into a depressed state where, loneliness, boredom, poverty, lack of stimulation from work and exhaustion from long journeys to collect the children had combined to leave her incapable of positive action. The real issue, she knew, was that she was hiding from her future. She'd failed in her life and lacked the confidence to make things better. Her parents treated her as if she had suffered a breakdown and never knew what to say to her, afraid of making things worse. 

The divorce eventually came through and that was another bad day. She went out to protect her parents from her misery. 

The irony of her new life was that she looked forward most to her visits to Brighton. The Friday after the divorce, she drove to Brighton, saw almost nothing of Jack because he had evening classes to teach, and drove home with the children. They were eating dinner, having arrived back late at her parents, when Amy announced, "Daddy and Hazel are getting married."

There hadn't been much conversation before; now there was silence. Caroline saw her parents staring at her and eventually managed to say, "They must be very happy, but I'm surprised. I didn't know Hazel believed in marriage." 

"It's because she's having a baby," explained Ben. 

"How do you know that?" Caroline demanded.

"I was listening to Hazel and Dad talking. I hope it means the baby's my proper brother and not just a half."

Again her parents said nothing, looking at her to say the right thing. Caroline made a big effort to collect her thoughts. "That's not how it works Ben. It's half because our family is split in two. You're half my family, half Jack and Hazel's."

"So I have two families – one here and one in Brighton?"

'Shut up Ben!' Caroline wanted to shout, but her own voice spoke quietly to her alone: "And I had two lovers. Two isn't double one and I have nobody to love me now." 

She felt she was being crushed under an immense weight. Her self-serving lies collapsed and she understood what she'd done. Whatever she'd gained from her liaison with Damien had cost everything she had – house, job and husband. She was back where she'd started with nothing to show for the fifteen years between. She had her children, but only half of them. They were hurt and looked at her with angry, accusing eyes. They knew she'd driven away their father and they'd never forgive her. She looked at the faces round the table – they all knew it; it was only she who'd not been able to see what she'd done. 

"The baby may be a girl," said Amy. "If she's only half my sister she can be half someone else's. I won't mind."

Caroline rushed from the table and shut herself in her room. Alone in bed, she cried all night. For the first time she accepted that she hadn't just experienced bad luck, she'd been wrong. Whatever she'd won had been insubstantial, like a gambler who puts the housekeeping budget on an outsider and wins. Winning once only made eventual disaster more certain. And winning gave a momentary buzz for which she paid with the desolation of her whole life. 

Ben sat with her after breakfast next morning, irritable and unable to settle on anything to do.

'Mum, do you mind being alone?' 

She shook her head.

'Is Hazel your friend too?'

'I think she's very nice.'

'Will you get married again like Dad?'

She wanted to say "No", but said instead, "I'll do everything I can to make sure you see as much of Jack and me as you can." 

She knew Ben found it easier to accept Hazel than would be the case if she introduced him to a boyfriend of hers. And if she had a partner she was sure Jack would be less willing to spend time with her – which was all the children wanted. It made her cross, but whenever she suggested to the children that they go out somewhere for a treat, one of them, usually Amy, would say: "Can dad come too?" She'd say this even when she knew he was working two hundred miles away. 

Another worry gripped her late in the night. Her children loved her because she was their mother, but they trusted Hazel more. It was Hazel who made sure no harm came to them while she was alone and far away. She'd let them down, so they were right to trust Hazel. They'd learn to love Hazel and when she was old they would visit only out of duty. Hazel would be the grandmother to their children. 

She was the cause of all this. There was no one else to blame. And she was damaged too. Never again could she anticipate a relationship of give and take, of trust on both sides, of equality where each knows the other is both strong and weak in all kinds of ways, but will bust a muscle to do the right thing when it matters. People act badly, not out of a desire to gain unfair advantage over others, but because they see life through the distorting lens of self-interest. She'd never trust herself to another relationship because she'd never be confident she could behave honourably. 

Caroline didn't expect to go to the wedding, but told Jack she'd have the children while he and Hazel were on their honeymoon. The invitation to the wedding, when it came, was a pleasant surprise. Better to be there than be alone. And she should be there – for the past, for Jack, and for her children. 

Apart from making an inordinate effort with her appearance, she made no preparation for the day. Her main objective was to remain calm. 

It was a modest event – a civil ceremony at the registry office and a reception in a room at the University. Hazel's mother and sisters were there and some of her colleagues from work, but Jack had nobody. His parents were dead and no friends had survived the divorce and his change of job. It occurred to Caroline as she moved among these people, most of whom had reason to dislike her, that she was there as Jack's one friend. It allowed her to feel a little less like the Ghost of Christmas Past. 




Caroline Alone Ch. 04



She watched Jack kiss his new bride and that was fine because it was expected, but it was a bad moment on the steps outside the registry office when the photographs were taken. First it seemed like a travesty – a picture posed in every detail to imitate and mock the photograph of her own wedding to Jack, displayed on their mantelpiece for ten years – the same pattern of figures posed on the steps, bride centre stage and radiant, groom smug in his happiness, handsome and lean and unaltered. Common sense told her the picture was nothing of the sort – that all wedding pictures were the same in depicting a caricature of simple bliss. Determined to hide her distress, she touched away the tears. 

The photographer asked the bridesmaids and page to join the bride and groom, presenting another vision from a nightmare. It was familiar and yet different – her family, but not hers – a scene she could observe but which shut her out: her son unrecognisable in his first suit and his mop of hair slicked back, and her daughter with ribbons and flowers in her hair and a folksy dress with frills and tucks and a tight bodice and long, full skirt. Furious at her weakness, she began to cry, tears dripping off her chin. When Mimi asked if she was alright she lied and said the tears were because of her happiness for her children and for Jack. 

She had to stay to the end and couldn't drink because she was driving. When she wasn't dealing with the children she was mostly on her own or seated with Hazel's mother. They chatted easily, said to each other how marvellous Jack was and what a fine couple he made with Hazel. She wasn't certain that Hazel's mother really understood who she was. What they had in common, apart from admiration for Jack, was that they were on their own with their sadness. She stayed clear of Hazel's colleagues, whose contributions on being introduced to "Jack's ex-wife" was an ironic snort of "how bizarre" and "trust Hazel to do the unconventional". Jack sat with her for a while and was kind and gentle, saying how amazing she looked, thanking her for coming and complimenting her on how well the children were doing.

"How is it Jack, second time round?" she asked and hoped she didn't sound bitter. 

"It's good," he replied honestly. "I survived. I'm alive and happy. I have a great job. The children are happy. I have a beautiful wife who is pregnant with my child. What more could I want? I'm sorry things didn't work out for you as you hoped."

"I made mistakes and I'm sorry for all the pain I caused. If it's any consolation, I've suffered."

"I know. It doesn't help to look back. We must put what happened behind us. Cherish what we have – Ben and Amy – and be open to what life brings. There's no reason why something wonderful can't happen for you, as it has for me."

"Don't you see? It was being open to life that brought Damien. I need to find work and then I'll lead a simple life – go to work, be with the children as much as I can, get myself sorted out. Maybe I'll grow up. I hope we can be friends and I'm so much looking forward to seeing your baby. I'd like to think that twenty years from now I'll have sorted myself out and be fit to be someone's companion. If we can love one another, even better."

"All I mean is you mustn't give up hope. Take life as it comes, one day at a time, but do what's right."

"You're always the sensible, level-headed one, Jack. I was so proud of you when we were married. I took all that for granted."

"Shut up Caroline. I'm not a saint and you know it. Forget the past and let's be friends."

He was happy. It was impossible to deal with happy people; they just didn't see difficulties. 

The final act of a curious day found the children in bed in Hazel's house and Caroline in front of the television watching her favourite soap opera. Hazel had come up with the idea that Caroline should stay in the house with the children while they were away on their honeymoon. It would save money and be good for the children. Jack no longer had the campus flat and it took some pressure off Carline's parents, who loved their grandchildren but were tired out from having their depressed and angry daughter constantly to stay and the children most weekends as well. 

Caroline needed time to relax before trying to sleep. She wouldn't think of Hazel as her rival or her conqueror, but she felt defeated all the same, camping in the house, especially as the children rubbed in her status as visitor by acting as if completely at home. They showed her where to find things, how to switch on the heating and how to work the coffee machine – state of the art bean-to-cup, as if she couldn't have guessed. Although she hated herself for doing it, she wandered round the house looking for clues to Jack's new life and how it differed from the one they'd shared. Could it really be that he preferred sourdough bread to white all the time they'd lived together and she'd not known, or did he love Hazel so much he pretended for her sake? And slippers by the front door – was that really Jack? 

The next day she threw herself into entertaining the children and they all enjoyed themselves. They went to the sea front and tried the fairground rides and walked back along the promenade to the crazy golf so that Ben could show her how good he'd become. She and Amy stood no chance. Her children were happy and pleased to be with her. Their lives would be perfect if only she could somehow stay forever with them in their new home. And that, they all knew, would never happen. 

While the children were at school she looked for a job. If she could find something locally that paid enough for accommodation she could see more of the children, have them in the evening, get them to school, be an equal partner in their lives. Almost at once she found work a few miles down the coast in Hove. She would be the manager of the despatch department of a small internet-based company supplying brass door furniture – not a great job, but better than what she had. They were desperate for help and she arranged to start on the following Monday, when Jack and Hazel would be back. For the first time in a long while she felt optimistic about the future. 

The next day she found a two bedroom flat to rent. It was above a shop in a busy street and the parking was poor. Once she was settled she could look for somewhere more suitable, maybe even buy with the money she had left from the sale of the house. It would have to be soon because Ben and Amy couldn't share a bedroom for much longer. 

Her new job was hard work. She had little in common with the other staff, but it was a new beginning and nobody had any preconceptions about her. She knew nothing about the business they were in, but was determined to make it a success. Despite the novelty of the work, she found lots to draw on from her experience and soon decided she might be rather good at it. By the end of the first week she had a long list of improvements to suggest to her boss. It was exciting to have responsibilities again and staff who looked to her to make their lives better. 

Now she could play her part in the school run and have the children overnight in the week. Suddenly life was a little more normal. There wasn't much fun to be had, but work and cooking for the children was fulfilment where it had once been a chore. 

Parking was always a problem at the entrance to Amy's school and she squeezed her car into a narrow space. When she tried to get out she saw that she'd boxed in the man in the car beside her. She reversed a little and got out to wait for her daughter. The man got out too and smiled at her as they stood outside the railings at the school's perimeter. 

"Like feeding time at the zoo," he remarked, glancing at her. "I wish they'd let the children out on time instead of leaving us to wait."

"I'm in such a rush I'm only glad I'm in time," she replied cautiously. She knew the man was interested in her. He was respectable, well-made in a conventional, unassuming way and he seemed thoughtful and considerate, but she felt nothing – no curiosity or desire to challenge and make an impact, as she remembered in the early days with Damien. It would be nice to have a companion – someone to do things with and to talk to. But the complications of involvement terrified her. She didn't want commitment and be shown to be inadequate once again. 

"Highlight of my day," the man persisted. "You meet all the best people at the school gate. It's a moment of peace before the children arrive when anything's possible."

He looked at her and she smiled thinly. "He is trying hard," she thought. "And really I couldn't care less. What's the matter with me?" 

The man must have got the message because he didn't say anything more. Then Amy came out chatting to a little girl who turned out to be the man's daughter. The man looked at her as if this proved they could be friends, but she smiled and jumped into her car. It seemed she'd damaged something deep inside her and lost the ability to connect with others. But later she wasn't so sure. Maybe it was only that she hadn't met the right man. Jack had set a pretty high standard. 

It was after the baby's due date when Caroline had a call from Jack asking her to collect the children so that he could take Hazel to hospital. She rushed across town to get the children and took them to her flat. There was no news for twenty four hours and she felt as much tension as if it was her daughter's baby. When the phone eventually rang she let Amy answer and it was the news they'd been waiting for. Amy had a new brother called Oliver Graham, after Hazel's father. Caroline took the phone to check all was well and to offer Jack and Hazel her congratulations. She was delighted to get an invitation to visit as soon as she wanted. 

They went at once and found Hazel feeding toothless, bald-headed Oliver Graham. Caroline sat beside her on the settee and Hazel took the baby from her breast, wiped his mouth and passed him to her. His face creased with pain and he was about to cry. Caroline lifted him under his arms to stretch his belly and he burped, his expression clearing. In her arms was a miniature version of Jack, complete with a stern frown – at least, that's what she saw. Cradling the baby, she was calm in a way she hadn't been for a long time. Oliver Graham waved his arms about and his hand grasped her forefinger. Jack was smiling. Ben and Amy were crowding forward to stare in wonderment at their tiny brother, their family complete. Her failures had harmed everyone who was important to her – except here was Oliver Graham, perfect in every way. She must be bold and stop looking back. Life was out there waiting for her to grasp a helping hand. It was never too late to start again and this time she knew how to get it right. 



The End