32 comments/ 108280 views/ 8 favorites Harry, Thelma, and Harry By: The Wanderer This is one of those old stories that I wrote many years ago. I came across it and a couple of others recently and I have spent a little time re-writing a lot of this one and adding the ending. The others I will look at as time becomes available. As Always I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement. I'd also like to add that we don't always see eye to eye, so I take full responsibility for the content and any cock-ups in this story. * I suppose I should really go back to when I was a child to start telling my story. I think I must have been about five or six when my parents lashed out and brought a holiday caravan down on the south coast near Weymouth. From that time on every school holiday we travelled down there for the duration of the breaks. Of course, my dad couldn't come with us to the caravan every time we went because he had his work commitments. So, for most of the year it was just my mother, my two sisters and me. After a couple of years my dad bought a bigger caravan and then a varied collection of friends and relatives were invited to join us for a break away from the city. There were quite a few other families from all over the country who also had caravans on the site. So when mum took us down on her own and we didn't have dad with the car to go out in, my sisters and I would kick about the site and the local area. We were lucky to have a family car back in the fifties; not all that many families had cars back then and, unfortunately, my mother never could get her head around driving. Although she did manage to frighten the life out of a couple of driving instructors before she gave up on the idea. There were always other kids on the site for me to play with. My sisters always considered they were above playing with little boys. The person who became my best friend whilst I was down there was Harry. Harry was a year older than I was, but for some reason we hit it off together the first time we met. Harry sported a massive red birthmark all over the left-hand side of her face, and for some reason that I could never understand when I was that age, she was shunned by most of the other children because of it. The birthmark never seemed to bother me, and Harry being a real tomboy turned into a good friend too whilst I was down there. As a matter of fact, if Harry's family didn't go down to Weymouth on any particular school holiday, I found the place very boring. Harry was an only child and we seemed more like brother and sister than just friends. My two elder sisters were a pair of stuck up little cows when they were young. As life went on and we got older, climbing on the cliffs and throwing stones into the sea began to lose its interest for Harry and me. Over the years we had explored just about every nook and cranny within miles. We'd found where we could hide and watch the young couples making out. It was fun as ten-year-olds to try and understand what they were doing. But as we got older and wiser to the ways of the world, we began to feel uncomfortable when we sneaked up to watch them together. Nothing was ever said but we were such close friends that we seemed to sense what each other felt inside. Harry and I were considered old enough by then to catch the bus into Weymouth on our own, where we explored the town and harbour. There were occasions when some ignorant people would make some comment about Harry's face and there were a couple of times when I got into fights with other kids over it. I knew it upset Harry when they made comments about her face. It was probably when I was about twelve that Harry started wearing make-up to hide her birthmark. To be honest I thought it looked worse than the bloody birthmark, but I never said anything. Harry and I started going to the dance in the club on caravan site. Oh, we'd been there many times over the years. They had children's entertainment during the morning then as the day went on the dancing started for kids; younger kids in the afternoon and then for the older ones in the early evening and the adults later. But Harry and I were dancing with the older kids now. The bouncers were old friends to Harry and me. If anyone ever said anything about Harry's birthmark, generally the bouncers were there before I had a chance to react. I think they watched me as they realised I wouldn't stand for anyone upsetting Harry. It was the Easter of my fifteenth year that Harry vanished. My whole family travelled down to Weymouth on the Thursday before Good Friday. I went straight over to Harry's caravan only to find it was still closed up for the winter. Investigations at the site office informed me that the caravan had been sold. The rest of that break was the worst holiday I had ever had. My mum and dad took me out every day. My dad told me later that he tried to find out what had happened to Harry and her family. It was years later that he told me that Harry's father had died of influenza during the winter. Her mother couldn't afford to keep up the caravan so she had sold it. Dad was hoping he would be able to find out Harry's address so that I could at least write to her. But he was unsuccessful. Harry and I were friends at the Weymouth but for some reason it had never occurred to us to get each other's addresses and write. All I knew was that she lived near Bath somewhere. After Harry was no longer there, Weymouth lost its interest for me. That summer I stayed home with my dad, when my mother and sisters went to Weymouth. Dad and I went down for his summer break from work. But the rest of summer I kicked about with my school friends. The following year my mother decided that it was about time we joined in the latest boom; that was to go abroad for our summer holiday. I think my sisters, who were by that time dating boys, were beginning to put some pressure on her about being away from their current squeezes for so much of the year. The caravan was sold and the clan set off for a couple of weeks in the sun. Small point, not by plane but by train; the journey taking twenty-four hours. I joined the family for their first couple of trips to Rimini in Italy. But by the time I was eighteen I wanted to get away with my mates. So I stopped joining them. The pop festivals were becoming the thing by then and that's where the boys and I went whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was the sixties and boy did we have a good time of it for a few years. When I had finished college I tried a plethora of jobs without being able to settle in any of them. I was by then the proud owner of a 1959 model Hillman Minx. My private nooky wagon. One day when my employer said something I didn't like - I'm buggered if I can remember what - I told him to stick his job – that I couldn't stand anyway – up his arse and walked out. I hadn't driven far when stopping at a set of traffic lights, I felt a hard bump as someone ran into the back of the Hillman. I climbed out to be confronted by a truck driver who apologised profusely. I can't remember how the conversation went but it finished up with me following him back to his yard which was nearby, were his boss promised to foot the bill for a new rear bumper and have it fitted. The following day I took the car down to the transport yard to have the new bumper fitted and I sat and waited in the reception office while it was being done. You know strange things can happen in your life. When some bloke stuck his head in the door and said come with me, like a lamb I followed him. Exactly why I never asked him why he wanted me to climb into the driver's seat of a lorry, I've never been able to figure out. I sat there like a dummy as he pointed out all the controls and explained the gearbox layout. Then when he said right out the gate and turn left, I just started the engine did what he told me to. I drove the truck for about thirty minutes before we got back to the yard. As I parked the truck, he said to me, "You'll do. If you were to ask me, I'd say you're a natural." Then he got out and started walking back toward the office. I followed him and as we went through the door, the boss who I had met the previous day came out of an inner office and said to the guy, "Mitch, I thought I asked you to take that guy on a driving appraisal?" "I did. He'll do fine!" "How'd you manage that when he's still sitting in my bloody office?" Well, I was unemployed, so the upshot was, I got the job and the other guy didn't. The following Monday I was on the road as a truck driver. I've got to say that I enjoyed myself. Now, for the first few months I didn't have the faintest idea what I was doing. But I found that I had a brilliant sense of direction. Back in those days drivers looked after each other, and there are many of them who I have to thank for teaching me how to load trucks properly and how to rope and sheet it down. It seemed being out on the road suited my temperament; it was the first job that had I really enjoyed and settled down in. I soon found that there were a few companies who were asking my boss to send me when they hired a truck. I gathered he liked that, as it proved to him that I was doing a good job and keeping his customers happy. At Marshal's, one of the places that I regularly picked up loads from, there was a girl working in the dispatch office by the name of Thelma. Thelma was a doll in every sense of the word. She dressed to tease the guys and lapped it up as they ran around her. Her short skirts and tight blouses showed off her gorgeous figure. And her high heels showed off her legs to perfection. I figured Thelma was a tease the first time I went to Marshal's. Now I'm no slouch around women but I'm not the kind of bloody fool whose tongue hangs out at the sight of a nice pair of legs or a tasty bum. I let the dumb arses chase after Thelma and I was strictly business in my dealings with her. Which was every time I called there, as she looked after dispatch. As time went on I found that I was going to Marshal's more often until it appeared I was working for them almost exclusively along with a couple other of our drivers. I must admit I enjoyed working for them; it was like one big happy family there. That's more than you could say for most companies. I/we had full run of the place whilst waiting for our load/s and access to the canteen at will. Old man Marshal prided himself on knowing every member of his two hundred odd strong work force by name. Before too long he knew my name and that of the other two drivers from our firm who regularly worked for him. It was early December, I pulled into our yard one Friday night to fill up my diesel tank and collect my wages. When I got into the office, Mr Wilkins, my boss came out and asked, "Right, boy, what are your plans for tomorrow then?" It was nothing he hadn't asked me before, normally the precursor to him asking me to do a driving job on the Saturday. "Nothing special. What've you got on then, Boss? I replied. "Have you got a decent suit, boy? We're going to Marshal's Christmas do. He invites us every year and if we don't all turn up, the old bugger will get upset." "Fine by me, boss. I can scrub up quite well when I need to, you know." "Right. I'll meet you here at the yard at six-thirty. George and Jack are driving up together, but I'll have plenty of room in my car for you; you can ride with the wife and me." I was a little curious as to why George and Jack were not going to travel with the boss and his wife as well, because his bloody great Jag could easily carry five. But I said nothing. The following afternoon, I was feeling like I was dressed up like a turkey; since I'd been on the road, I hadn't had reason to wear any of my suits. I climbed into my boss's car for the ride to Marshal's factory where the "do" was going to be held in that massive canteen. Mr Wilson insisted I called him "Bill" for the evening. But I knew that on Monday it would be back to "Boss" again. He introduced me to his charming wife and I wondered how the old bugger caught such a babe. I figured the answer was probably money, but we'll forget that, as it is unimportant to my story. As soon as we arrived at Marshal's, George and Jack, along with their respective wives joined us and I realised why they hadn't travelled with us. I did wonder why I hadn't been told I could take a guest, not that I had anyone particular in mind. But if wives were invited surely girlfriends would be as well. I put it down to an oversight by Bill Wilkins. Mr and Mrs Wilkins sat at the top table with old man Marshal, his wife and all his directors and, I supposed, the bosses of some of the other firms that contracted to him. The five of us wandered around the tables looking for our allocated seats. It was with a little consternation that we found the seat with Jack, George and their wives names on, but we couldn't find mine nearby. I was wandering around for some time and just beginning to suspect that I had been forgotten. I'll be honest, if I couldn't find my seat I was intending to slip outside and hide until after the meal. But suddenly Thelma tapped me on the shoulder and led me to my seat, which was alongside hers. Come on, I'm not as daft as I look. Thelma was sitting in the seat that my escort would have sat in had I been told I could bring one. And that of course meant that I was sitting in the seat where her escort should have been sitting, somehow I got the feeling I'd been set up. Old man Marshal was doing the rounds whilst we waited for everyone to get themselves sorted out and seated. When he came up to me, after thanking me for coming and all the good work I'd put in on his behalf, he said, "Well, my boy, our lovely Thelma here didn't have an escort for this evening. I hope you don't mind looking after her for me?" I assured him I would but I couldn't help wondering just why the lovely Thelma hadn't been able to find a date. The meal that evening was served by outside caterers, as all the canteen staff had been invited. There were some of them at our table and I watched as they scrutinised everything the caterers did and served up. I doubt that any meal has ever been so closely inspected. The meal was followed by interminable speeches. The tables were moved to the side and a group started playing. The music was strictly middle of the road designed to appeal to all the staff, whose ages varied between sixteen and sixty. Thelma and I danced together, but a couple of guys came up and asked her to dance as well. By about ten-thirty I'd had maybe a little more of the free booze than I should have. Whilst dancing to a slow number with Thelma that I was finding a little arousing, I asked her how come she hadn't been able to find a date for the evening. Thelma giggled, I think she had drunk more than she should have as well. "Don't be silly. I could have found plenty of guys who would have loved to come, but I wanted to spend the evening with you." "Why?" "Do you really want to know?" "I wouldn't ask if I didn't?" "Well, because you intrigue me." "Ooh, I Intrigue you, do I? And why is that?" "Well, you know. You're different." I must have given Thelma a questioning look. "Come on, you know what I mean. You don't chase after me like the other guys do. I'm wondering why. don't you find me attractive or are you, er um into men or something?" "Thelma, no, I'm definitely not a bloody poof. And I think you are a very attractive young woman..." "Oh, you've got a steady girlfriend then, have you?" "No, as a matter of fact, I haven't, at the moment." "Then how come you've never asked me to go out with you? I've never said anything to offend you, have I?" "Quite the opposite, Thelma. You are a nice young lady as I said. But you're what: eighteen -- nineteen?" "Nineteen." Thelma replied. "I'm twenty-four and I'm on the road five days a week and quite often away a few nights at a time. I'm looking for a steady relationship. Now please don't take this personally or as a criticism of you. I'm looking for a girl I can come back on Friday nights and who is prepared to put up with doing very little more than go down to the pub for a drink. A girl who isn't going to be out with other blokes when I'm away for a couple of nights. "If you were looking for an odd date with me, you've had that this evening. But I don't really think you want to settle down yet. You like it too much when guys chase after you." "Oh, is that it? "Yes, I'm afraid so. You're not upset are you?" "A little disappointed maybe. But can I at least get you under the mistletoe tonight?" "Sure thing, girl, it would be my pleasure." I got the feeling that Thelma was trying to prove something after that. Somehow every time we danced, we finished up under that bloody mistletoe. At about one in the morning George came over and told me that Mr Wilkins was ready to leave. I gave Thelma a kiss goodnight as she walked out to the car with me. As the car pulled out of the car park I looked back to see another guy walk up and put his arm around her. The following week I was on a different contract so I didn't go to Marshals. The week after that they shut down for the Christmas holidays. The boss conned me into doing a special job on the day after Boxing Day. It involved me spending the New-Year holiday up in Aberdeen. They had only just started hunting for oil in the north sea back then and I had to take some research gear that was supposedly urgently needed up there. The weather was terrible and I spent nearly two weeks sitting on the harbour side waiting for the bleeding ship to come in so that I could get the gear unloaded. Mind I had a great time in the pubs up there. There is no place in the world better to spend New Year's Eve in than Scotland. Even if it is blowing a gale, pissing down with rain and bloody freezing. Mind you the novelty was beginning to wear off by the time the ship I was waiting for finally turned up. Apparently it had been hiding from the storm in a port further along the coast. No one had thought of getting a message to me to meet them there. Yeah, well, I was just a humble truck driver; who gave toss about me? When I got back down south I took a couple of days off in lieu of being away over the New Year. I'm not saying the boss liked the idea but he knew my reputation for telling bosses what to do with their job if I got upset and there were plenty of driving jobs around back then, if you knew what you were doing. On the Wednesday I was parked on Marshal's loading bay first thing in the morning. I walked into the dispatch office and got the shock of my life. Sitting in Thelma's chair was a woman I hardly recognised wearing a baggy jumper, slacks and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. When she saw me she jumped out of her chair and ran over to me. Before I had a chance to say anything her arms were around my neck and her tongue was trying to locate my tonsils. "Jesus Christ, girl, what are you trying to do, suffocate me?" I asked when she finally came up for air. "I missed you. Now tell me do I pass inspection now?" "Look, Thelma, I don't know what to say." "Tell me do I still look like I'm a little tart who wants to run around with a different bloke each night?" "I never said that you did." "Maybe you didn't, but you implied it. Now tell me do I pass muster as your girl now?" "Well, of course you do. You always have, but..." "Good, so I'll be waiting for you to pick me up on Friday night. Here's my address and here's your delivery notes for the rest of the week. Oh, I've swung things so you'll be able to finish early Friday. Now you better get to it, as you've got a lot on for today and tomorrow." Okay, what the hell could I do or say that wasn't gong to upset the girl. So like a lamb to the slaughter I kissed her and went back out to the loading bays to load my truck. Harry, Thelma, and Harry Friday evening I arrived at her house to pick her up at about seven o'clock. She came out of the house carrying an overnight bag. "Um, what's the bag for Thelma?" I asked nervously. "Well, I thought you wanted to go to your local pub. It's got to be thirty-five miles away from here at least. I thought if you wanted I could maybe stay over at your place; that would save you driving backwards and forwards picking me up and dropping me off all weekend." So Thelma stayed over at my parents house that weekend. No, not in my bed but my sisters' - they were both married and gone by then. Thelma slept in their old room. The following weekend I stayed at her parent's house and we visited pubs around where she lived. Her parents were very nice; I got on really well with her father and her younger brother. I'm not sure how keen her mother was to start with but she came around in the end. Yeah, you've guessed it Thelma had me wound around her little finger from that first weekend. From that date she never wore anything you could call provocative at work or any other time, that I knew about except when she was out with me, that is. Then blow me if she didn't dress herself up like a million dollars. I quickly discovered that Thelma wasn't a virgin. Well, I was never under the impression she was actually. However I found out that she couldn't use the birth control pill; she reacted badly to it apparently. So we didn't have sex very often and we always used protection. Three months later we were engaged and before I knew it we had put down a deposit on a tatty old house almost exactly half way between our parents two homes. We spent all our spare time for the next year practically rebuilding the place. Well, at least we brought it into the twentieth century. Once the house was finished, the logical next step was to get married. So that's what we did. The reception, of course, was held in Marshall's canteen with the canteen staff doing the catering. Old man Marshal was there and he came up and told me how pleased he was to see us together. Exactly how much he was involved in Thelma's plan to capture me I never have been sure of. Perhaps Thelma just used him, as I was to find out she used so many people. Life for the next few years was sweet. Thelma fell pregnant quite quickly after we were married. Hey, well, we used condoms on most occasions, but we were just married and sometimes things got a little hectic, you know what it's like. Having had one child, Tracy, we decided to have our second child, Helen, as soon as we could. Two, we decided was going to be enough for us and Thelma arranged a permanent solution to the birth control problem. Well, she had had some problems when she was carrying Helen and the doctors were quite worried. They had her in hospital early and kept a close eye on her. Whilst Thelma was still carrying Tracy, I got a call one day from old man Marshal. The upshot of it was that his transport manager was retiring. With Thelma on maternity leave, he was, to put it bluntly in Shit Street. He had already spoken to Bill Wilkins and he asked me whether I would take over as his transport manager, at least until Thelma returned to work. It would be handy for me as I would be close at hand when Thelma gave birth and I wouldn't be chasing off all over the country whilst Thelma was nursing. So somewhat reluctantly I agreed. The only problem was that when Thelma and I decided to go for the second child my position with Marshal's became permanent. The work wasn't hard; it just called for knowledge of vehicles, and a good idea of how to plan routes the trucks should take. After a while I found I quite enjoyed it. Not as much as being on the road, but the money was better and there was no overtime to do. In a way I was glad I could spend the time with our two little angels. I was quite sure they were going to become a pair of man-eaters like their mother when they grew up. I must admit I saw some worrying times ahead but figured I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. So, life carried on as I suppose it does for most couples with young children. I genuinely thought I had made it in life. Good job, nice house, loving wife and a wonderful couple of daughters. But things can go pear shaped just when you're not expecting them to. If I want to put a time stamp on it, I'd say my earliest clue that something was not as it should be was when Tracy had just turned six. I was driving to work one morning and I noticed the car behind me. Okay, you say the roads are public so you should expect to have a car behind you sometimes. But did you noticed that what I said was "the car behind me". Now remember I'd been a truck driver for a few years. When you're driving trucks all day long and if you're any good at your job, you keep a very good eye on what's going on around you. It could be, if you're carrying a valuable cargo, that car behind you could be loaded with some little toe-rags who would like to relieve you of the job of actually delivering it. Or it could be one of the other big headaches for a driver with a tight schedule to keep to; the unmarked police patrol car. So if you know what you're doing you keep tabs on the cars behind. All drivers should do that anyway; what I'm talking about is the car and its occupants. Oh, you can spot them a mile away if you've got your head screwed on right, trust me. No, the car I'd spotted behind me was staying just there. When we hit a junction, if he got left behind, he was overtaking anything and everything until he was back on my tail. He definitely wasn't a copper – they drive far better than this Pratt did – but it was obvious he was following me. That evening when I left work another car picked up my tail. A different car with a lady behind the wheel this time, but she stayed with me all the way home. Next morning the guy was there again and in the evening the woman followed me to the pub. Thursday nights I have a drink – just one since I'm driving – and a game of snooker with some of my staff. We hadn't been in the pub long when I noticed her come in, followed shortly after by the guy. They went to the bar separately and brought their own drinks. Then things got what I can only term as farcical. Look, I'm playing snooker with one of the boys and this tart is sitting at the bar showing off as much of her anatomy as she can get away with and staring at me so hard I could feel eyes drilling holes in my back. A couple of times during my game the woman's eyes met mine and when they did, she smiled at me. The only thing I couldn't work out was who and why was someone trying to set me up. But there was no chance I was going to bite. I'm not sure what kind of an idiot they took me for, but I had no intention of playing the game they intended. The why question I thought I had the answer for. Old man Marshal was a very family oriented character and placed a high value on the family, Christ, he ran his company like it was one big family. Now, I was an outsider who had been invited into the firm after I had married one of Marshal's favourite employees. I had rapidly become a favourite of his as well and the word around the firm was that I was going places at Marshal's I figured someone had gotten jealous or thought that in the long term I was a rival to them in the promotion stakes. Whoever it was I assumed was trying to entice me into doing something that would ultimately destroy my marriage and most likely change old man Marshal's opinion of me. Having finished my drink I bought another so as to hide my true intentions. Then having taken a swig from it, set off to the gents from where I slipped out the back door without anyone noticing. I would have liked to have turned the tables on the two of them, but not having the slightest idea of who was trying to set me up I didn't know whom I could trust. So I just drove myself home. I did wonder how long they waited for me to return from the gents. The following morning the guy was there again but this time I lost him pretty easily. As I drove out of Marshal's yard that evening the woman fell in behind me immediately. I took her on a little mystery tour that finished up in a small factory estate I knew quite well from driving the trucks; it ended in a cul-de-sac. Having parked my car I made my way between the buildings where the woman couldn't see me and crept around until I was behind her car. Then she suddenly found me standing by her car door. She realised immediately that I was on to her and taking me completely by surprise took off in the car backwards at high speed. She did a skid turn that would have put Rockford to shame and within moments she was gone. Cursing myself for letting her get away, I went back to my car and drove home. To be honest for a while I thought that was the end of the episode. They didn't appear to follow me anymore. I figured that once I was aware of them, they had given up. But two weeks later there was a different woman sitting are the bar in the pub when I arrived on the Thursday night. As I purchased my drink from the barman, she made some comment. To be honest at first I didn't connect her with the other two. It was only after she joined me at the jukebox as I was picking out a couple of tunes that the penny dropped. "Piss off, lady, and tell your friends I'm not as dumb as I look," I said to her. "And you can tell that Pratt with the Granada if I even see him again I'll kick his fucking head in." The woman was completely caught off guard; she looked quite shocked and left the pub almost immediately. Oh, I had noticed the Ford Granada in the car park when I arrived, but not its driver. I suppose it was about a month after that, when Thelma stumbled one day in those bloody high heals that she was back to wearing, breaking a bone in her ankle. I got a frantic call from her when she was at the hospital asking me to come and collect the girls. When I arrived the doctor told me the break, although not serious, needed to be set in plaster. But there was a problem. Thelma's ankle had swollen up and they would have to wait until the swelling had gone down before the plaster could be put on. Thelma would have to stay in hospital until it was applied. That called for me to take a couple of days off to look after the girls as it was during the school summer holidays. It was a pleasant change for me to play Mum and Dad. I know they had great fun taking the Mickey out of me when it came to cooking. I'm not a good cook; I found it hard to get the timing right. How the hell do you get all the different elements to finish cooking at the same time? Anyway it was while I was juggling things in the kitchen that evening that the phone rang. Because I had my hands full I asked Tracy to answer it. At six I thought she could handle it, we had taught her what to do and say. "Oh, sorry, Uncle Frank, mummy's in hospital. She's hurt her leg." --- "No daddies looking after us" --- "Bye bye." Then Tracy put the phone down. "Who was that, Tracy?" I asked. "Oh, just Uncle Frank," she replied. There was only one problem to that answer, as far as I was concerned. Who the fuck was Uncle Frank? I'd never heard of him before. I was just about to enquire further when I heard Helen call her sister from the other room and Tracy ran to see what she wanted. Curious, I followed Tracy but for some reason I did not enter the playroom. "You're going to get in trouble from mummy. You broke your promise to mummy that you would never tell daddy about Uncle Frank." "What the fuck did I just hear my daughter say?" I thought, then I heard Tracy's reply. A typical child's answer. "I didn't tell daddy about Uncle Frank." Then followed the usual "You did's" and "I didn't's". I chose to not enter into the argument. Both girls apparently were aware that I wasn't supposed to know about this Uncle Frank character and to intervene in this current conversation-cum-argument would mean they were both on their guard. I thought it better to leave it and wait until they were relaxed about it again. But I was surely troubled. I couldn't understand why Thelma would want to keep some guy secret from me. Unless ... that is? Now that was a question I really didn't want to ask myself. Denial, I think, wouldn't let me think that way. The swelling in Thelma's ankle didn't go down overnight as the doctor had hoped. To me it looked like it was swollen much more than it had been the previous day. When the nurse told me that it could take as much as a week to go down, I thought I'd better import some assistance at home, before the girls went down with food poisoning or started to show signs of malnutrition from refusing to eat my cooking. My sister volunteered to stay over and help with girls, which allowed me to get some time in at the office as well. Sara brought her nine-year-old daughter Marcy with her. I can't say I was very taken with Marcy. I think she took after her mother who, even if she was my sister, had never been one of my favourite people when we were young. We had bonded a lot better now that we were older. I'm not sure why I did it. Maybe I needed someone to confide in but I told Sara about this Uncle Frank character. It could be my girls had been sworn to keep the secret from me, but Thelma might not of stipulated other people. When I told Sara, she sat and thought for a while. Then she said, "Do you think that Thelma's...?" "I don't know what to think, Sara. But I don't like my family keeping secrets from me." "Is that why you hated Ginny and me when we were little? We never let on to you about anything." "It could be. But I'm definitely not standing for my wife keeping secrets from me. Especially where men are concerned." "I don't blame you, Thelma is a beautiful woman. I never could understand how you captured her." "Well, the point is, Sara, I didn't capture Thelma; it was her who chased after me." "Well, she had good taste, I'll give her that. Anyway what are you after? Do you want me to ask the girls about this Frank for you?" "I thought they might open up to you. I definitely heard Helen say that their mother had made them promise not to tell me about him. Now they might think their not breaking her trust if they tell you." "Leave it with me and I'll see what I can find out." "Thanks, Sis, but try not to make a big thing about it and put them on their guard." The following morning I left Sara with the children and went into work. In the afternoon I visited Thelma in the hospital and she told me that Sara had been in with the girls for about an hour earlier in the day. I don't know what made me do it, but I asked Thelma if there was anything she wanted to tell me. I think I confused her; at least she didn't understand what I was asking her, because all she came up with was a list of unpaid bills and things that needed doing at home. That night after Sara had put the children to bed, she sat me down at the kitchen table and fixed me with a stern look. "Well, I don't know who the hell this Frank guy is, but I think you need to find out what the bloody hell is going on." "You asked the girls about him then. What did they say?" "Don't be daft. I set Marcel on the problem. I thought the girls wouldn't identify her as an adult and - oh, well, you know how kids think. Anyway about this man Frank. Apparently Thelma and him used to talk to each other outside the school whilst Thelma was waiting for the girls to come out. "From what the girl's understand, he's divorced and his children supposed to go to their school. They say it's the only chance he gets to see them, as he doesn't live with his wife. From what I could make of it she's supposed to have custody and he claims she makes it difficult for him to see them, so he's supposed to be watching them in the school playground." "But why hide that from me?" "Marcy is no fool; she tackled that question as well. According to the girls, this Frank's wife is supposed to work at your firm and the story is that you might tell her he's watching the children at the school." "Oh, I see. Well, I suppose that does explain it. But surely Thelma doesn't think I would grass the guy up to his wife." "Bullshit, that stupid story doesn't hold water at all. Think about it. If this Frank was at the school when the kids came out, then why wouldn't his so-called ex-wife see him there? And when I sent Marcy back with a few more questions, I really got worried. Neither of your girls has any idea who this Frank's blokes children are. Come on, it's a small school. That doesn't make sense. "On top of that, apparently sometimes when Thelma takes the girls to the playground in the park after school, Frank is there as well. And what really tops things off, he has been at the park during the school holidays and he has been with Thelma and the girls in the shopping centre on more than one occasion. He buys the children ice cream, sweets and hamburgers. "Little brother, you've got a serious problem and you've got to get to the bottom of it pretty quick. It could be that Thelma was planing on meeting this Frank the other day when she had her fall. Perhaps that's why he called here that day to ask her why she had never showed." "Do you think that they are having an affair then?" "How the hell do I know what to think? But I'll tell you, something very fishy is going on and we've got to find out what it is." "I'm glad you said we, because I'm beginning to lose the plot here." "Well, don't go going half cocked. There might be an innocent explanation for it that we can't see yet. But to be honest I doubt it. Now think back, brother. Can you think of anything that Thelma has said or done in the last few months that might be significant? Anything out of place or different than usual?" "Well, not anything that Thelma has done but a strange thing happened the other week." I went on to tell Sara about being followed and the two girls, what I can only describe as trying to pick me up in the pub. Sara couldn't make head nor tail of that either. The next day went the same as the day before. Thelma's ankle was beginning to show signs that the swelling was going down and the nurses told me that all was going well, and she should be home by the weekend. That night after the children were in bed again, Sara, who had been showing signs of being on tenterhooks since I arrived in the house, couldn't wait to get me alone. "What colour was the car that followed you?" she asked the moment the kitchen door was closed. "It was a maroon Ford Granada. Why?" "Close enough, the girls called it dark red. I think it was this Frank who followed you. And I've got some bad news. Marcy says she thinks the girls have been inside it. They describe the inside of it in detail to her. You know they said how big it was and how soft the seats were. Oh and the child locks were on so they couldn't open the doors from the inside. Kids would only notice a thing like that if they've been inside the car." "I agree with you there. Look, I called in a favour today and rang Bill Wilkins. He's got some friends in the police and he's trying to get the names and addresses from the numbers of those cars that followed me." "Good idea, bro. I think you owe Marcy a big favour for all the pumping she's been doing on the girls." "Yes, I know. I'm lucky she's as devious as her mother." "I'm not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or not?" Sara replied with a smile on her face. ++++++++++ Friday morning Bill Wilkins called me at the office quite early. He told me that the Granada belonged to a one Frank Williams who was well known to the police. The other two cars had been hired from a cheap car hire company. Strangely one of them hadn't been returned and the hirer, a man had used false documents to hire both vehicles. Harry, Thelma, and Harry That afternoon after I had made some phone calls I went to the hospital to collect Thelma. I had a little chat with the nurse I'd been liasing with all week before Thelma knew I was there. After a little prompting she let on that a man had been visiting Thelma after I left every afternoon. She thought something was odd because he never brought anything with him for Thelma. Most folks bring something with them even if it is only get-well card. No, I thought our Frank Williams wouldn't want to leave any evidence that I could get curious about. Frank Williams' sort are pretty cute when they are on the prowl. But if he thought he was going to get away with what I suspected he was planning, he had another think coming. That evening when we arrived home Thelma was surprised that the children weren't at the door to meet us. As she hobbled in on her crutches she asked me where they were. "I've sent them to my folks for a few days, I thought it would give you a chance to get yourself sorted out." "Oh, that wasn't necessary." Thelma said, as she settled herself on the sofa on the lounge. "I would have preferred it if they were here." "But I think it was, Thelma. There's a lot of things we've got to get sorted in the next couple of days. I don't want the girls getting upset unnecessarily." "What things?" Thelma asked as Sara came into the room carrying a tray with tea and coffee on. "Oh, Sara, you're still here; you needn't of stayed. I'm sure I can look after myself and the children. I can stand on my ankle now that it's in plaster." "I'm not here for you, Thelma. I'm here for my brother!" Sara said with real venom on her voice Thelma's face suddenly lost all its colour, and she looked at me. "What's this all about?" "Well, that's the question I was going to ask you, Thelma. What the hell is going on between you and that twisted arsehole, Frank Williams?" Thelma looked from me to Sara and then back at me again. It looked to me like for a moment she was lost for words. Then she obviously made her mind up. "Well, I suppose you've found out then, haven't you? I suppose you had to sometime. I'm sorry but I've fallen in love with someone else. I didn't want to tell you yet, but I'm going to divorce you and then I'm going to marry Frank." "Just like that?" I asked. "Yes, I've been trying to think of a way to tell you for weeks now. I didn't want to hurt you more than necessary." Sara went to say something, but the sound of movement behind her stopped her. "That's all I needed to hear, I can get the ball rolling now -- I'll be in touch." A disembodied female voice said from out in the hall. Then we heard the front door close. I smiled at Sara and then turned back to Thelma. "Sounds very considerate of you, if it wasn't a lie. You got Frankie boy to try to set me up didn't you? What was the plan? I get seduced by one of his hooker friends and, hey, presto, you divorce me? I suppose you thought that then I'd have to pay you maintenance, wouldn't I? What a sweet little wife I used to have. Well, hard bloody luck, baby, I didn't fall into your little trap. "I'll give you the idea was good. You wanted to leave me with my good job and live with an unemployed arsehole, and you were planning that I'd support you in your new life." "I don't know what you're talking about. What set-up?" "Well, if you don't know, you had better ask your weirdo boyfriend. Now this is how things are going to go. You've got the weekend to get all your shit out of my house. My solicitor is working up the paperwork for the divorce already, he says it will be ready for you to sign on Monday." "You can't do that. It's you who should leave the house. I will need it for the children." "Oh, no, you don't, sweetheart. You and your weirdo boyfriend are not getting within a hundred yards of my children. I'll let you visit them providing either a social worker or I are present. Oh, yeah, it's the social services who are going to get that order before a judge tonight." "What are you on about? They can't do that." "Oh but they can sweetheart. You know I have always thought that social workers were a pain in the bloody arse. But once they found out that it was Frank Williams you were planning on shacking up with and had been exposing our children to, hey, they've been extremely co-operative. You are not going to be allowed near them any more and I think the police will be wanting to talk to you as well." "I don't understand. Why would the police want to talk to me?" "Oh, you stupid bitch!" Sara butted in; she was determined to have her say. So I let her rant on. "What did you think Williams was doing hanging around outside that bloody school. The man's a bloody paedophile with a record a mile long. He wasn't after you, you silly little cow! He wanted your daughters." Thelma's face was something to see; again she looked from one to the other of us. "You're lying! Frank wouldn't do that." "Oh, no? Where do you think he's spent the last seven years?" "He's been working abroad, out in the Far East I think." "More like the bloody Isle-of-White. Parkhurst prison's on there - at a stretch you could call that abroad. Anyway when the police have finished talking to him and my children, we'll find out if he's done anything to them already. But I'll warn you if that bastard touched my kids, I'll most likely kill the pair of you." Sara had to call an ambulance then, because Thelma suddenly passed out and we couldn't wake her again. Her father or her brother must have collected her from the hospital because I bloody well didn't. I didn't see her again, until the day we signed the paperwork for the divorce. Thelma realised there was little point in asking for custody of the children, because the social services still had the order on her saying that she had placed the girls in jeopardy. Oh, it came to light that Thelma had left the children in Williams' care on more than one occasion whilst she was at the hairdressers and the like. But the specialists who questioned my girls told me that they were sure nothing had happened. They thought that Williams was still in what they termed as the 'grooming stage' and he was anxious not to frighten them off by moving too fast. Williams had not committed any crime that the police could make stick. They were sure he had stolen the hired car but had not put it to its intended use when the bubble burst. When out of curiosity I asked why they thought Williams had stolen the car, the police inspector looked at me and said, "Well, it could be, sir, you have been lucky even if you do think you've had a rough time of it. The last unfortunate woman whom Williams sweet talked into his bed, so that he could abuse her children, was a widow. Her husband was killed in an unsolved hit and run accident. Now the trouble is we can't prove what Williams was planning to use the car for, but we can speculate. From now on if he stays around here we'll be keeping a very close eye on him." "Not too close, I hope?" I replied. The officer looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot. "Oh, I shouldn't worry too much about that sir. Providing no one's actually killed. You'd be surprised how long it takes for the officers who'll be watching him to take a leak." "Of course I never told you that and make sure you've got a damned good airtight alibi. There are plenty of do-gooders out there who think that Williams and people like him are just mentally ill and need sympathy. If you ask me, if he was hung, drawn and quartered, he'd be getting off easy. He's a cunning evil bugger." "And sir, don't be too hard on your wife. Williams is an expert at manipulating people. If you could have seen him in that interview room you wouldn't believe butter would melt in his mouth. She never stood a chance from the moment he targeted her. You know it wasn't until we let her read Williams' file that she really believed what kind of pervert he was." Looking back, it could be I'm lucky to be alive. Williams was certainly covering himself for all eventualities. But knowing what that arsehole was planning for my family I decided that I was not going to turn the other cheek. But I could afford to wait until the dust settled. ++++++++++++++ For the next couple of years everything was in a state of flux. Thelma was not allowed to visit with the children alone. This proved frustrating for the girls as well as their mother, since she couldn't take them out or anything. From what the police told me and from listening to Thelma herself I don't think she had any chance when she came up against Williams. I know she would never have stood for him abusing our girls if she knew about it. I have to think that really for my own sanity. So after a year or so I asked the Social Services to relax the conditions on Thelma's visits with the children and they acquiesced. As the children were never taken into care I really had the last say on the matter. Thelma told me on a couple of occasions that she would like for us to get back together. But I told her that was never going to happen. I knew that from talking to the neighbours Williams' car was parked outside some days whilst the children were at school. Nothing would convince me that Thelma and Frank Williams were having a bible reading session. Oh, I don't know, there's a lot of begetting in the bible. I told Thelma that she should find another mug, which in the end she did do. He was quite a nice guy really, although a bit on the headstrong side. I gather he asked Thelma to marry him, but she refused until she had told him everything. From what I can gather, he listened to her story then without saying a word to her he got up and walked out. Two weeks later Thelma ran Williams down with a car outside the local nick. She'd spotted Williams hanging around outside another nearby school. Thelma had called the police and they had taken him in for questioning. But Thelma had waited outside the police station until he'd been released again. Then she had driven her car into him as he walked along the pavement. She then apparently drove down to the river and threw herself in, in what is assumed to have been an attempt to drown herself. I've got to say I'm not at all that sure it was. Thelma is pretty good at manipulation herself and from what I've heard there was a police car right behind her. After at first being charged with manslaughter. The charges were later dropped. Themla's mental condition was considered so unstable, that she was unfit to plead. She was placed onto the care of the local psychiatric hospital, they soon came to the conclusion they she was not a danger to the general public and she was released after a month or so. . She had to attend the shrink every couple of weeks but that's all really. And of course the Social Services tightened up on her visiting the children again. Well, that's how it turned out. Sara's husband Ralph started working on the oil rigs in the North Sea. So Sara and her family virtually moved in with me to help look after the girls and also handle Thelma's visits with them. Although it was getting longer between every visit by then and I hadn't spoken to her in what seemed like years. +++++++++++ I think it was just before Helen's tenth birthday. Sara, Ralph and I were sitting in the kitchen one evening talking over the old times when we were children. Of course the subject of Sara and my summers down in Weymouth came up. Ralph came up with the idea that we'll all go down there for a fortnight that summer. Sara jumped at the idea and before Ralph and I realised what she was doing she had invited Ginny and her family to come along as well. We hired three caravans next to each other on the same site that we used to have our family on when we were children. The children loved it on the beach and they enjoyed it when we went about pointing out all the places where we'd played as children. We actually turned up a few local people we had known as children. One morning I took my two girls for a walk along the cliffs. Things had changed a lot because of erosion of the mud cliff faces by the sea. It took me quite some time to track down the tree where Harry and I used to carve our initials every year. Some of them you could still make out quite clearly. "H & H, 1959." Tracy said, "I wonder who they were and where they are now?" "Well, one of them is standing right beside you," I answered. "You're kidding, dad!" Tracy said. "Then who was H?" "Oh, she was just a friend." "What do you mean? Was she your childhood sweetheart, Dad?" Helen asked excitedly. I wasn't prepared for what I'd let myself in for. "I suppose in a way she was. I spent many long happy holidays down here with her when I was your age. But I'm not sure you could really call her my sweetheart. I only kissed her the once." "Was it nice?" I wasn't sure whether Tracy was trying to embarrass me or whether she was really interested. "Yes, it was very nice. I would have loved to have kissed her more. But she didn't come back the following year." "Oh, that's sad. Were you very upset?" "Yes, I was, but if you don't mind, we'll change the subject." The subject was changed but for the rest of the holiday wherever we went my two girls would ask whether I'd been there with Harry. Sara and Ginny were pretty quick on the uptake and would answer Tracy before I had the chance to play things down and say I didn't remember. Cakes and things that Sara and Ginny made, developed markings on them that looked remarkable similar to H & H. I tried to show my displeasure but they would all start laughing and couldn't help but laugh as well. When the holiday was over and we returned home; then things got even worse for me. My mother and father, at Tracy and Helen's insistence dug out all the old holiday photographs of Harry and me when we were kids and showed them to the girls. I'll give my girls one thing. Although Harry's birthmark was very prominent in a lot of the photographs, I never did hear either of my daughter's mention or ask about it. I don't know if my sisters told them not to or not. But I never heard it mentioned. We went to Weymouth again the following year. But this time there was just my girls and myself along with Sara and Marcy. Ralph was supposed to have been coming along but he cried off at the last minute as he said something had come up to do with his job. I was surprised that Sara took it so calmly as he was out on the rigs for so much of the time. We managed to cram everyone into my car with the luggage on the roof for the journey down to Weymouth. The first couple of days we settled in and we were having quite a nice time of it. But on the Tuesday morning at breakfast my girls suddenly announced that they wanted to go and find the tree with the carvings on the trunk again. So around ten we set off. The three girls were full of it that morning singing and dancing around for what seemed to me to be no reason. As we got to the tree Tracy ran up to it and started shouting, "Yes, yes, he's done it. He's done it." Then the three girls crowed around looking at the tree. When Sara and I got close, the girls moved back from the tree. Beneath the 1959 carving was another one. It read "H & H 1982." For a few moments I stared at it not really understanding what was going on. Then, from some nearby bushes, Ralph appeared; he had a couple of children who I didn't recognise with him. "She says you'll know where to find her. She told me to tell you she's where you used to spy on the courting couples from. She would like to meet you in private." I don't think I stopped to say anything to Ralph, I headed off at a jog, towards our old hiding place. But when I got there, there was no sign of Harry. Disappointed and confused I turned and started to walk back. I hadn't gone very far when Harry suddenly jumped out on me. An old game we used to play as children. "Christ, Harry, you frightened bloody the life out of me," was all I could think of to say. "Well, it makes a change from you making me jump." It got silly then as we talked to each other just like we used to do as children. When we got back to the tree, the others had gone. Slowly with me telling Harry my life story – well, an abridged version - we made our way back to the caravan. Harry told me that when her father had died, her mother couldn't afford to keep the caravan and had sold it. She said she had been as upset as I was that we hadn't seen each other again. As time went on, her mother remarried a very nice man, who, when Harry was in her mid teens, had paid an inordinate amount of money to have Harry's birthmark removed by a very early laser technique. It hadn't been entirely successful, but had helped her self-esteem a lot. Then, she said something that surprised me. She told me that only one other thing had raised her self-esteem that much and that was when she had met me as a child. She said I was the only child that she had ever met who never once made a comment about that birthmark or even asked about it. Then Harry went on to tell me that she had married a soldier and had two wonderful children with him. But unfortunately he had been killed in a training accident in 1978. Since then she had been living with her stepfather, her mother having died of a stroke some years ago. And that's where Ralph had found her. Don't ask me how he did it. Sara told me later, he had most of the guys on his oil rig that lived anywhere near the Bath area asking questions. Eventually someone remembered the girl with the boy's name and a birthmark on her face. Ralph had gone down there and found her some weeks before the holiday but they had kept me in the dark until that morning. Sara said she really thought Helen and Tracy were going to let the cat out of the bag a couple of times. Well, Harry and her two children stayed in the caravan with us for the rest of our holiday. No, Harry and I didn't go jumping into bed with each other. We'd had a special friendship as children and we are getting to know each other as adults. There's something there but we will have to wait and see what develops. Is there going to be a romance between us. I'm not sure, but I hope so – and I think my children hope so as well – I'll just say that the signs are good. Everyone including Harry's children tried to stay out of our way as much as they could in Weymouth, so that Harry and I could spend as much time together as possible. At the end of the holiday Ralph and Sara took Tracy and Helen home with them, whilst I drove Harry and her two children home to Bath. Life goes on. ++++++++++++ April 2006 Well after much dashing up and down the M4 Motorway over the following six months Harry and her two children Russell and Claire moved in with the girls and me. We had a little uncomfortable episode shortly after the move, when Helen and Tracy took to calling Harry mum and decided that they were going to address their mother as Thelma. Harry and I tried to dissuade them from doing so by Harry not answering them when Tracy and Helen called her Mum. It didn't work because the girls had the connivance of Harry's children, Russell and Claire, who would repeat anything that Helen and Tracy said. When Harry answered them, she was also answering Helen or Tracy. I must say that it took a little getting used to and Thelma wasn't impressed to say the least. I'm not sure what passed between Thelma and the girls but in the end she accepted things, as the girls wanted them. Harry has suggested that the girls threatened to cut themselves off from Thelma if she argued the point. Sometimes I was quite surprised at the animosity the girls felt towards Thelma, which seemed to get stronger as they got older. Then Harry told me one day that my girls weren't stupid; as they got older they realised what had almost happened to them and exactly why those social workers and police officers had asked them all those questions that at the time had sounded so silly. Harry, Thelma, and Harry Of course Harry and I got married eventually. No, we didn't rush into it; we had a very low-key affair in of all places Bermuda. Well, it was something a little different. We had local witnesses and didn't tell anyone what we were planning. It was surprising how long Harry had the extra ring on before anyone noticed. As the years went on Thelma's mental health suffered. It wasn't helped by the succession of dead beats she got herself hooked up with. When Tracy got married to her stepbrother Russell, Thelma was just about compos mentis enough to attend the wedding and play the proud mother. She looked better than she had for years and her very proud father escorted her. Unfortunately her father passed away a few months later and shortly after that Thelma was sectioned, by her brother. She now spends a lot of her time in and out of a private clinic. Which I might add, her brother and I are finding quite expensive. But I feel I have a duty of care for my children's mother. Harry and I are extremely happy together. Now that all the children have grown and gone, we spend most of the year at our cottage near Weymouth. We enjoy walking the paths we walked as children, sometimes with our grandchildren in tow. Life goes on.