55 comments/  98747 views/  26 favorites

People Can Change Ch. 01

By: DeYaKen



Authors note:

I am greatly indebted to Juicy Starchild for editing this story. I am also indebted to cueball961 and a number of anonymous commenters for inspiring this story. 

*

Julie moved one dick from her mouth, pulling another round to take its place. The guy who had been fucking her face now moved around to displace the guy pounding her arse. The guy from her arse moved round so that she could wrap her delicate hand around his dick and proceed to pull him off. Meanwhile the guy underneath continued to fill her pussy. As I watched, my wife was satisfying four men in ways that she had never offered me. My anger was growing as fast as the damp patch in my pants. So far I had seen her being introduced to the four men and then treating each one of them to a blow job. Hell, we had been married for two years before she ever did that for me. The four studs proceeded to take it in turns fucking both her pussy and face before moving on to her arse, a treat I had still to experience. The session culminated in the four men spraying cum all over her face and body.

I was a fresh faced twenty eight year old when I married Julie. She was just two years younger. We'd been married for seven years and had two lovely daughters; Annabel and Grace aged four and three. Julie had always been a loving wife to me and I thought we were happy and that she was satisfied. Discovering this video on "Gang Banged Wives" was like an earthquake tearing my world apart.

I put a DVD into the drive and saved the file before starting the playback from the beginning. I paused the playback during the introductions. Julies face almost filled the screen. I stared at her, desperately trying to work out how old the video was. She looked a little younger but not a lot. 

Digging out the family photo albums I went through the pictures, comparing the photo with the face on the screen. Eventually I stopped - there was the picture that matched. Same hairstyle, make up done the same way, and the face was identical. The caption said that it was from our honeymoon. I looked from picture to screen and screen to picture. My anger turned to rage as I realised that the bitch had been screwing around, and had made this movie, around the time we got married. For a moment I was stunned. Something had to be done and it had to be done now.

I had been a sergeant in the Royal Marines and for seven years my men had relied on me for decisive leadership. If I was capable of doing it then, I was capable of doing it now. Two things came back to me. Attack is the best method of defence and never underestimate the advantage of surprise. My objective would be to get the slut out of my house with the minimum of loss to me. Julie was still at work and she would be due to pick up the kids from childcare before coming home. 

Unlike most of the wimps around here, we didn't have joint accounts at the bank. Julie had her account, I had mine and we had a housekeeping account into which I paid a monthly amount. The most I could lose there was a month's housekeeping. The house was in my name only. If I got custody of the children - and with that DVD I had no doubt that I would - the house would be mine until the kids were eighteen, and I would then make her fight for her half. I started to think of a plan to get her out of my house and out of my life. 

I went to the kitchen and pulled a roll of black rubbish bags from the cupboard. As I went around the house I tossed anything that I thought was hers into the bag. By the time I got to the bedroom I had already filled a couple of bags. Going through the wardrobes and the chests of drawers I was amazed by how many clothes she had. Nevertheless, they all went into the bags. I even went through the dirty washing basket. I carried all the bags out to the garage and left them there. Nothing to do now but wait.

Julie worked as a legal secretary for a big London firm. Of late she had been frequently late home but never on a Friday. On this Friday she didn't get home until seven thirty. I heard the car but didn't move from the kitchen. She opened the front door and was calling out to me as she came in.

"Greg darling, sorry I'm so late. Something came up at work. I'll make it up to you darling. I have dropped the kids off with mum and dad so we can go out tonight for a nice romantic evening, just the two of us. I'll just have a shower and change my clothes and we can go"

I more or less grunted an OK and she dropped her keys on the hall table before running up the stairs.

"Shit," I thought "No kids. Still, with the evidence I have of her amoral behaviour I'll have no problem getting custody and probably payment for childcare."

I walked over to the hall table. I picked up her keys, removed the house keys from the ring and put them in my pocket. I turned, went back to the kitchen and waited. I didn't have to wait long. I heard her going from place to place in the bedroom. Then came the question that I was expecting. 

"Greg darling, what's going on? Where are all my clothes?"

When I didn't answer she came down wearing nothing but a towel.

"Come on darling, this is not funny. Where are all my clothes?"

"They are out in the garage. You can pick them up on the way out," I told her.

"What are you talking about? You and I are going out tonight." 

"I'm going nowhere with a slut like you, but you are getting out of my life forever"

"Greg stop this.," Tears started to run down her cheeks. "What is wrong with you?"

"I just got wise to you Julie. Now are you going to leave or do I have to throw you out?"

Now she was getting angry.

"I am going nowhere until you tell me what this is all about," she said.

"In that case," I said, "you leave me no choice."

I took hold of her arms and moved towards the door. She was trying to resist but she was no match for a man like me. In the struggle she stumbled. When she refused to get up I grabbed a handful of hair and lifted her. As she got up the towel dropped to the floor. My rage was now in full flow. She screamed and beat at me with her fists but this had no effect. As we reached the hall she stumbled again and I looked down to find I had a clump of her hair in my hand. I reached out and grabbed her arm with my right hand while opening the front door with my left. With the door open I backed through it and pulled her out. I swung her around so that she crashed through the rose bushes onto the front lawn. Going back into the house I grabbed her car keys and the DVD I had burned. I opened the door again and stepped out onto the front porch.

Julie was half sitting, stark naked out on the front lawn. There was blood running from the scratches made by the roses and she was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Here," I yelled throwing her car keys at her. "Take your car and get the hell away from me."

She just looked at me, still crying.

"But why Greg, why are you doing this?" she sobbed.

"You want to know why. This'll tell you why," I shouted throwing the DVD at her.

"And don't worry. There are plenty more where that came from," I yelled.

The DVD in its jewel case flew like a Frisbee and the corner of the case caught her just below her left eye.

I walked back in and slammed the door. I watched through the window as she got to her knees. There was blood running down her cheek from the wound caused by the jewel case. As I watched she used her hands and arms to try to cover herself. "Strange," I thought, "she was not that modest in the video."

Across the road a door opened and out came Mrs Edwards, the old busy body who was always complaining about my dog shitting on her lawn. She was carrying a raincoat over her arm. As she approached Julie she wrapped the coat around her. I thought it was just typical that old biddy should come to the aid of the slut. Julie slowly got up, wrapping the coat around her as she did so. Mrs Edwards obviously had plenty to say about what she had seen but I could see that Julie wanted to get away. She went into the garage and found some clothes to wear, then got in her car and drove away. Mrs Edwards made her way back home.

With Julie gone I went up to our bedroom and picked up the clothes she had been wearing when she came home. I picked up her hand bag and took the clothes and bag out to the garage and put them with the rest of her clothes. Once the last traces of her had been removed, I got in the shower and then dressed to go out. I ate at the pub that night and stayed there till closing time. Thankfully the pub was within walking distance of my house so it was no problem having had a skin full of booze. I staggered home and put myself to bed to start my new solitary life.

In the morning my mouth felt like a wrestlers jock strap and my head was thumping. Someone was ringing the doorbell and thumping on the door.

"I told you yesterday, all your stuff is in the garage. Now take it an get your slut arse off of my property," I yelled holding my head.

"Mr Maitland, this is the police. Open up."

I staggered down the stairs and opened the door. Two police constables stood outside. The nearest officer looked at me.

"Mr Maitland? Mr Gregory Maitland?" he asked.

"Yeah I'm Greg Maitland," I said.

"Gregory Maitland, I am arresting you on suspicion of assault causing actual bodily harm. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Now I must ask you to accompany me to the station."

I couldn't believe what was happening. A steam hammer was thumping in my head and I was still getting to grips with being awake.

"Hang on, just who am I supposed to have assaulted?" I asked. 

I couldn't remember much after ten the previous night. Was this something that happened on my way home?

"The charge is that you assaulted Mrs Julie Maitland, causing her actual bodily harm."

I couldn't believe it. The slut was charging me with assault.

"All I did was throw her out after finding that she starred in a porno film. What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"That is not for me to say sir," the constable said. "Now would you please get dressed and come with us."

I got dressed and went out with them. Outside most of my neighbours had found urgent work to do in their front gardens. They all watched as I was put into the police car and driven away. 

I was at the police station for most of the day. During the interviews I was shown pictures of Julie's injuries. She had deep scratches to her legs and buttocks, quite heavy bruising to her arms and legs, a cut on her right cheek and a clump of her hair was missing. If their aim was to make me feel ashamed of myself, they were succeeding. I had never hit a woman in my life, yet the injuries on show were entirely down to me. I tried to explain what I had done.

"The slut made a porno while she was married to me. What did you expect me to do?" I asked.

"I expect you to obey the law," the detective responded.

It turned out that several neighbours had already given statements about what they had seen and, of course, one of those was Mrs Edwards. I was formally charged and given bail to appear at the magistrate's court on Monday. I was eventually released and got a taxi back home. The garage door was open and all of Julie's stuff was gone.

I expected to get some communication from Julie or her parents over the weekend but got none. I spent Monday at the magistrate's court where my case was referred to the crown court and I had to surrender my passport. This meant that it was Tuesday before I could get a solicitor working on my divorce. I gave him a copy of the video file of the gang bang and the photo of Julie on our honeymoon. He gave me a time span of about three months for degree nisi and a further six weeks for it to be made absolute. He thought that, given the evidence of amoral behaviour, there was a good chance of my getting custody and therefore the house. Julie was unlikely to be awarded maintenance, since she was employed with a good salary. That conversation helped to dispel some of the gloom that had settled on me over the weekend. I went into work at my tyre sales business. 

The postman caught me just before I left for work on Wednesday. He had a letter that I had to sign for. I ripped it open and found to my shock that it was from a firm of solicitors advising me that Julie was petitioning for divorce on the grounds of cruelty. They also advised that she had obtained an injunction forbidding me from going within two hundred yards of either my wife, her parents or my children. I couldn't believe what I was reading. SHE was divorcing ME. No way - I was the wronged party in our marriage. If she wanted a fight she was damn well going to get one and if that meant dragging her name through the mud then so be it. I decided to go back to see the solicitor and made a point of calling him from work.

The second interview with the solicitor was less pleasant. To say that he was annoyed was putting it mildly.

"Mr Maitland," he said, "I give you advice based on what you tell me. If you don't tell me the whole story how do you expect to benefit from my advice? Now, your wife alleges cruelty. Have you any idea to what she is alluding?"

I told him that I had no idea unless it was to do with my throwing her out. I then outlined all that had gone on that day and since. When I got to the part about being referred to the crown court on assault charges I saw his eyes move up as if to look at the ceiling.

"So you are about to go before the court, charged with assaulting your wife and causing her actual bodily harm," he said. "Well you can kiss goodbye to getting the injunction lifted until after that case, and if it goes against you the injunction may stay in place till the divorce hearing."

"How certain are you that the person in your video is your wife?" he asked, returning to the divorce.

"Absolutely," I said. "You have seen the pictures."

"Yes, Mr Maitland, I have seen the pictures and I grant you that it does look like her. However, looking like her and being her can be two very different things. What does your wife have to say about it?" he asked.

"I don't know, I didn't ask," I told him. "Look, I know my wife when I see her."

He held his head in his hands while shaking it.

"Mr Maitland," he said "if your wife can introduce a reasonable doubt that it is indeed her in the video then our case falls apart and, given the evidence, her petition will be accepted. If that happens you could end up paying maintenance and child support plus paying half the mortgage on a house that you will not be allowed to live in. Add to that, your wife will be entitled to at least half of your joint assets and she will also get custody of the children and you will be liable for her costs."

"Given these new circumstances my advice to you is that we moderate your petition to make the grounds Irreconcilable Differences," he continued. "If I negotiate with your wife's solicitor we can possibly get them to do the same, which means no hearing and a much cheaper solution. Your wife will probably still get the house and custody, but we would be able to negotiate over most things."

"No way," I said. "The bitch was screwing four different blokes in every possible way. At one point she had three dicks in her. You can't expect me to ignore that."

"Very well Mr Maitland;we will let the petition stand and I will inform the court that your wife has cross petitioned. All we can do then is wait for a hearing date." 

I have to say that I was a lot less happy walking out of the solicitor's office that day. 

I decided to try to get on with my life and went back to work. I sat in my office and sorted through the invoices. It struck me then what my first job would have to be. Julie used to do my books and I have to say she had always done a good job. My accountant said that she did most of his job for him. I now had to find a book keeper to do the job for me. I spent the afternoon on the internet and the phone and was still none the wiser. I ended up phoning round some of the garages that I did business with and soon got a list of people to check out. The service was going to set me back about £100 per month. I took two thousand pound a month out of the business. This development was going to mean that I would have to take out one hundred pounds less. 

Within a week I had found my bookkeeper and handed over all my paperwork. Her name was Clare and she seemed like a nice woman. She was in her early fifties, about five feet eight inches tall and a little overweight. She was an attractive woman, but certainly not someone I fancied. What I did find appealing was her bluntness. She was a divorcee and this gave us something in common. Although I did not tell her what had happened in detail, I did tell her I had left my wife and that she had previously done my books. She laughed and told me my education was about to begin. 

When I asked what she meant she said, "Now you are going to learn how much it costs to provide the services she gave you for nothing."

In the next few weeks I started to realise just how right she was.

The days went by and the events of that Friday evening softened in my memory. Without the anger to sustain me I started to miss Julie and the children. I don't mean that in any way I had forgiven her - it was just living in the empty house. Most of the time I didn't feel like cooking for one, so I would eat at the pub. Of course, having eaten I spent the rest of the night there so I got home late and drunk. I would still be hung over the next day. This began to get to some of my staff. I found that my weekends were occupied doing washing and cleaning the house. My nights in the pub were taking a large chunk out of my cash but this was still affordable. Affordable, that is, until I got a letter from the building society saying the direct debit had been cancelled and the monthly mortgage payment of six hundred pounds was due. Within a week I got similar letters from electricity, gas and water companies. The following week came a letter from the local council demanding four hundred pounds for a month's council tax. It would seem that the thousand pound I normally put into the housekeeping did not even cover the cost of keeping the house going. I brought all this up with Clare on my next visit and she just laughed. 

"Welcome to the real world my friend," was her comment.

The weeks turned into a month and I got a date for the divorce hearing. The solicitor was pretty well spot on with his estimate. In another two months I would be free. I was still a little surprised I had received no communication from Julie in all this time. I suppose I had originally expected her to come around begging me to take her back. Okay, so that isn't going to happen, but I still expected her or her solicitor to try and open negotiations. No contact at all made me wonder whether there was something they knew that I didn't. I still had no date for my trial on assault charges.

Even though I had stopped going to the pub every night I was still not living well. I lived on sausage, egg and chips or takeaway food. Once a week I would drop by Clare's house to deliver the week's invoices and income details. We would have a coffee and a chat. Perhaps it was because she, like me, was a person on her own struggling to survive in the world but I really enjoyed talking to her. We would share details of our week. Mine was mainly work but Clare seemed to have an active social life. When I told her I had a date for the divorce hearing in two months she didn't share my joy. Her only response was, 

"Well at least you will know where you stand after that."

On the day of the hearing I dressed in my best suit and put on a tie, which is unusual for me. I arrived early at the court and waited for my solicitor. I saw Julie come in with her legal representative. I was about to speak when she looked in my direction. She did not even acknowledge my presence. Her stare went right through me. Our case came up at eleven and we all filed into the court. It was decided to hear my petition first so my solicitor opened the proceedings.


People Can Change Ch. 01



"It is my client's position that while married to my client, Mrs Maitland did star in a pornographic video which has since been posted on the internet site known as "Gang Banged Wives". In this video Mrs Maitland can be seen having oral, vaginal and even anal sex with four different men, none of whom are her husband. Furthermore," he continued, "my clients view is that Mrs Maitland's immoral and perverted behaviour, as demonstrated in the video, makes her an unfit person to bring up his two daughters. He asks the court to grant him sole custody of both girls and the use of the family home until such time as his daughters are deemed to be independent."

"If it please the court I would like to submit this DVD as evidence of the said video."

He passed the DVD to the clerk of the court.

The judge then turned to Julie's solicitor.

"And how does your client answer these charges?" he asked.

"It is my clients position that she has never appeared in any pornographic video or film and what is more, that from the time of their first meeting up to the present day she has been completely faithful to her husband."

"Oh come on," I yelled, "take a look at the video."

The judge told my solicitor to keep me quiet until he asked me to speak. He then asked the Clerk to bring in some equipment to show the video. The clerk fetched the equipment, put the disc in the player and set it going. The judge watched without comment for the duration of the video. He turned to me.

"Well Mr Maitland, the woman in that video does indeed demonstrate immoral and some would say perverted behaviour. The question would seem to be, is that woman your wife?" He turned to face Julie as he continued, "I have to say that the evidence of my own eyes would indicate that it is."

"What do you have to say in your defence, Mrs Maitland?"

Julie looked straight at the judge. "That woman is not me," she said. "It is someone who looks like me - in fact looks very much like me - but it is not me."

"Oh, come on, Julie. We have seen it with our own eyes," I yelled.

The judge looked over at me. "One more outburst like that and I will hold you in contempt Mr Maitland," he said.

Turning back to Julie he said, "If, indeed, it is not you then I would suggest that it is your doppelganger. Do you know of any such double Mrs Maitland?"

"Yeah, nice one judge," I thought, and then I heard the reply.

"Yes, I do," she said. "The woman in the video is my sister, Caroline Baker, and she is waiting outside."

My jaw dropped and my solicitor put his head in his hands.

"Well, bring her in and let's talk to her," the judge said.

Julie's solicitor left the room and returned with a woman. He led her over and stood her next to Julie. The resemblance was astonishing. Her face had a few more lines than Julie's which gave her the appearance of being a few years older, but apart from that they were identical.

"Are you Caroline Baker?" the judge asked.

"Yes sir," she replied.

"And what is your relationship to Mrs Maitland?"

"She is my sister, sir. In fact, she is my twin sister. The years have been kinder to Julie than they have to me, but that is probably to do with my lifestyle. A few years back you couldn't tell us apart."

"I am having difficulty right now," said the judge. "Now suppose you tell us how you got to make that video."

"Well sir," she said, "Julie and I were never the stereotype identical twins. We looked identical but personality-wise we were worlds apart. Where Julie was the good twin I was the bad twin. Julie worked hard in school, I mucked about and often when I got caught I would give her name so that she got blamed for my sins. Through all this Julie just accepted it. Even when at school I would fool around with the boys and lost my virginity at thirteen. Julie was little Miss straight laced and because the boys couldn't tell us apart she was labelled as Easy Annie the same as me. The only time she turned her back on me was when she found me in bed with her then fiancé. He claimed that he thought that I was Julie, but I told him who I was as soon as he got in the bed. I think he was hoping to have us both at once."

"After that I got into drugs. I became addicted to heroin and would do anything to get another fix. My parents disowned me after I stole the money they had been saving for dad's hip operation. I turned tricks on the street, I stole, and I did anything to pay for another fix. That video was made about seven or eight years ago. I would like to tell you that I was forced into it and that I hated every minute but the fact is I did it voluntarily and they paid me £400. I don't know if I enjoyed it because I was too spaced out to notice. I ended up being arrested for theft and I was offered a reduced sentence if I went into rehab, but there were no places available in the state system and I had no money for a private clinic. In spite of everything I had done to her, my sister paid for my rehab. This time, however, there were conditions. She said that when I got out of rehab I had to move at least one hundred miles away and she didn't want to see me ever again. She always knew where to find me but I could only contact her through a post office box number."

"What about now, young lady?" asked the judge.

"I have been clean since I left rehab, sir. I have a good life in Nottingham. I have tried to make my sister proud of me."

My solicitor made a last ditch attempt to save the situation. "Well, Ms Baker, thank you for that very touching tale, but as you said even Mrs Maitland's fiancé couldn't tell you apart. How do we know which sister is in the video?" he asked.

Caroline looked at the clerk. "Have you got zoom facility on that thing?"

"Yes," he said.

"Right," she said. "Zoom in on the right ankle."

The clerk zoomed in on the woman's right ankle and there clearly displayed was a tattoo, a small butterfly. She unzipped her right boot and pulled it off. There on her ankle was the same tattoo.

The judge looked across at me. "Mr Maitland," he said, "it would seem that your case is non existent. I am dismissing your petition." He turned to Julie. "Mrs Maitland, I will hear your petition after lunch, assuming that you still wish to go ahead."

As he left the courtroom I looked across at Julie. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know."

"And you didn't wait to find out, did you?" she said as she turned her back on me and left.

"I did warn you it was risky," the solicitor said.

The afternoon went by with me on autopilot. Julie went ahead with her petition and I decided not to defend it. I knew that I couldn't win and defending the case would only result in me being confronted with what I did to her. It was bad enough at the police station but now I couldn't even use the video as justification. The judge awarded custody of the children to Julie and gave her the house up until the children were eighteen. After that it must be sold and the money from the sale to be divided equally. All of our combined assets were to be split 50/50. When Julie said that she intended to continue working he ruled out maintenance, because she earned far more than me. However, I would have to pay child maintenance which would be decided by the child support agency. He warned me to expect a sum of between one hundred and two hundred pounds per week per child. Because I had an outstanding assault charge against me he was referring access to the children to social services. In the meantime the injunction would stay in place.

With my heart in my boots I left the court. When I got home there was a letter from the crown court setting the date for my trial on the assault charge in two weeks time. I desperately needed to talk to someone and the only person I could think of was Clare. I gave her a call and arranged to go over. On the way I picked up a bottle of decent Rioja. We sat on her sofa drinking the wine and me telling her all about what had happened. She was astounded to hear what I had done.

"And you thought that was the right thing to do?" she asked.

"Well, looking back I think it sort of got away from me," I said. "She was almost daring me to throw her out and I just lost it."

"Do you think it was right, now?" she asked.

"No, of course not," I said. "It wasn't even her in the video and I acted like a right bastard."

"Even if it was her, Greg, you had no right to treat her like that. To make it worse I think you still love her, don't you?"

"I don't know," I said. "Right now I feel like shit. I am ashamed of what I did and that is blocking out everything else."

"What would you have done if she had dropped her petition?" she asked.

"I would have tried to be the best husband and father a man could be." 

"Just as I thought. You love her. I know these things, Greg. I lived long enough with a man who didn't love me to know one when I see one. What a pair of fools we are. You for acting the macho cowboy and me for being soft enough to think that he would change."

We both sat there drinking wine and were into the second bottle by the time we decided to call it a night. I picked up my coat to leave.

"Where do you think you are going?" she asked.

"Home," I said.

"After what you have had tonight, you are going nowhere. I am not having your death on my conscience." She took my hand. "Come on, cowboy, make an old lady very happy." 

We made our way to the bedroom. I have to admit to a certain feeling of apprehension. I considered Clare to be a friend and I didn't want that to change. Although I had not had any sex for more than three months I would rather let it go a bit longer than lose Clare as a friend. She seemed to read my mind and squeezed my hand.

"It is just two friends helping each other out," she said.

Seeing Clare undressing was a revelation. She was broad in the shoulders and hips with quite a trim waist. She had large full breasts, which did sag a bit, but for a woman in her fifties they were pretty damn impressive. She had a little fat around the top of her thighs. She noticed me looking.

"Not quite the tight little bod you are used to huh?"

"Don't sell yourself short Clare,I was just thinking how much of a fool your husband must be to have let you get away."

"About as big a fool as the bloke who throws out his pretty little wife without checking his facts first."

I winced and got into bed. Exploring Clare's body was a delight. Using my lips, tongue and teeth on her large nipples produced amazing results and with a little help from my fingers in her vagina and around her clitoris I had her cumming before we even got started. As we made love my mind was on Julie almost the whole time. With every movement I was apologising for hurting her and trying to make her love me. We fell asleep in each other's arms. Not sleeping alone was almost as big a treat as the love-making itself.

Over breakfast the following morning we chatted. Something had been on my mind for a while and this seemed like a good time to bring it up.

"Clare, I go to trial for the assault in two weeks. There is every possibility I will get sent down. The prediction is that I might get up to six months. The two guys who work for me can handle the sales and fitting. Could you oversee the running of J&G Tyre Services while I am inside?"

Clare looked shocked. "You really think you are likely to be put in prison?" she asked.

"I think it is highly likely," I said. "I don't want to shut the business down. Although I think I can trust the blokes with most things, someone needs to do the ordering, paying of invoices and paying salaries."

"OK. I'll do it," Clare said, "but I don't think it will come to that. You are pleading guilty, right?"

"Yep. Throw myself on the mercy of the court," I told her.

Clare taking on that job was a weight off of my mind. At least I should still have a business when I got out. Two weeks later I was back in court. I entered a plea of guilty. My barrister started to enter a plea of mitigation. When I interrupted, neither the barrister nor the judge was very pleased. I still pressed on.

"Your Honour," I said. "My counsel was about to show you a DVD which I thought contained a pornographic video of my wife. I now know that the person in the video was not my wife and I will not put her through the indignity of having to watch it again. I jumped to a conclusion and reacted very badly. I never gave my wife a chance to explain and when she refused to leave, I lost my temper. My actions have lost me everything I held dear - my wife, my children and my life. I am truly sorry for all that I have done, sir. I would give my right arm to wipe away the last four months but I know that can't happen. I can only throw myself on the mercy of the court."

Since there was now no need for any prosecution case the next item was a victim statement from Julie. She entered the witness box.

"Your honour," she said. "My husband had always been a kind and caring man, which makes his treatment of me all the more disturbing. I am now frightened to be in the same room with him and it has made me apprehensive about being alone with any man. However, in his rush to take all the blame for this assault he has neglected to tell you that I kept the existence of my twin sister from him. It was my sister he saw in the video. Sir, we have two small children who need to see their daddy. They and I ask you to spare him a custodial sentence."

I have to admit, that was a surprise. Julie was actually asking for mercy for me. I could not see what I had done to deserve it and tears welled up in my eyes. The judge asked my counsel if there was anything he wanted to say before sentence was passed. He pointed out my previous good character, my military service and the necessity for me to continue to run my business in order to pay child support. The judge listened to all of this and retired for fifteen minutes. When he returned, I was once more escorted to the dock. The judge looked at me.

"Mr Maitland," he said. "You have admitted to an unprovoked attack on a defenceless woman, causing her actual bodily harm. This is a very serious offence, which demands a custodial sentence. However, you have shown great remorse and have tried to spare the victim any further distress. I have taken into account your previous good character and your service record. I have also listened to the victim statement from your wife and her plea for clemency. It is the sentence of this court that you should go to prison for six months."

On hearing the length of the prison term, Julie gasped. However, the judge was not finished. 

"This sentence is to be suspended for two years," he said. "Do you understand this sentence as I have given it to you?"

My barrister whispered, "Keep your nose clean for two years and you are a free man. Get into trouble again and you will serve the six months."

"Yes, your honour, I understand," I said.

"Good. Now go from this court and I expect not to see you here again." 

I got rid of the barrister as quickly as possible and hurried out, hoping to catch Julie. I was just in time. As I left she was walking away from me down the corridor. I ran after her and called her name. She stopped and turned around.

"I just want to thank you for what you did in there," I said to her. "I know you must hate me and I certainly have no right to expect help from you. I think that, but for you, I would be on my way to prison now. So, thank you."

"I don't hate you, Greg," she said. "I hate what you did and I doubt that I will ever be able to forget it. I never wanted you to go to prison. You must know that the way you reacted was not normal. You need help, Greg, and the sooner you get it the better it will be for everyone."

The first thing I did on leaving the court was to phone Clare. I told her that I was free and so I would not need her to take control. She told me that she needed to talk to me, so I arranged to go over to her place that evening. When I strode into work Eric and Tom, my two tyre fitters, gave me a cheer. It was certainly good to be free and know that there was nothing else hanging over me. 

Clare had agreed to give me dinner that night and I found that she was not a bad cook. I had wondered whether the reason she wanted me to come over had more to do with her sexual appetite than business, but I was soon disillusioned. She pulled out my company books and started asking me questions about whether anything came in that didn't go through the books and about the money I had been taking out.

"Now here is the problem," she said. "For the last five years you say you have been taking two thousand pounds out of the business every month. In effect that has been your salary."

I confirmed that was indeed the case.

"The problem is that the company only makes an average of twelve hundred pounds profit per month, according to these books. This made me ask why you haven't gone broke by now, so I trawled through your bank statements. Up until your break up your balance has been slowly improving. Since your wife left it has taken a nose dive and you are already starting to use your overdraft facility."

I was totally mystified. I listened to Clare, as she revealed all. 

"If we look carefully through each monthly statement we find a credit transfer every month to the tune of one thousand pounds," she explained.

Now I was really puzzled. "So," I said, "who has been giving me a grand a month?"

"The funds were transferred from the account of Ms Julie Maitland, your ex-wife."

"But why would she do that?" I asked.

"To protect that massive male ego of yours," she suggested. "I am man, provide for my family, and always pay my way. She was trying to make you think that you really were an equal partner when it came to providing for the family, hiding how much greater her contribution was than yours. I hate to say this Greg, you are a good bloke and a great lover, but you really fucked up big time losing that girl."

"You think I don't know that?" I asked. "No offence, Clare, but on the mornings I have woken up in your bed I would have given my eye teeth for it to have been her lying there next to me."

We ended the recriminations and put our minds to what needed to be done. There were only two possibilities - increase the income or cut costs. The biggest cost was staff and if I went back on the shop floor we could afford to lose one of the fitters. The first option would take time, time that I did not have. The second would be as painful for me as it would be for the guy losing his job.

Clare broke out the wine and we sat sipping and talking through my problems. I told her that I was supposed to be out of the house by the weekend but still hadn't found a place to stay and that I still had to work out visiting arrangements for seeing the kids.

"Well," she said, "I can't help with the second part but as far as finding somewhere to live, you can have my spare room for a while, just till you get on your feet."

I must have given her an odd look because she answered a question I hadn't asked.

"No, not as my live in lover, just as a lodger." Then she grinned. "Though a bit of loving wouldn't go amiss. Now how about a little down payment on the rent?" 

Sleeping with Clare was always one of two things. Either I was fucking her as hard as she wanted or I was making love to Julie. At least that is the way it felt in my head. That night I did both and for Julie I was the gentlest, most caring lover she had ever experienced. At least I hoped so. Clare was right. I had fucked up big time. I might never get back to where I once was, either with Julie or with my kids, but I had to try.

During that week I moved my belongings out of the house. There was not much. I took only things that were solely mine, everything else I left for Julie. Also I cleaned the house from top to bottom. If there is one thing a Royal Marine knows, it is how to be clean and tidy. By Friday night the house was spotless. That afternoon I stopped by the florists for a couple of bouquets and placed them in vases - one in the main room, the other in Julie's bedroom. I put all the keys in an envelope and dropped them round to Julie's parents. I knew they wouldn't want to see me, so I just put them through the door.




People Can Change Ch. 01



I had already diverted my mail to Clare's house and the weekend brought me more bad news. Social services had decided my access to the children would be limited to two hours a week and that had to be supervised. The second item of bad news was that the Child Support Agency expected me to pay one hundred and thirty pounds a week, per child. I can only take one thousand pounds out of the company per month and now the CSA want one thousand and forty. It seemed like my world was collapsing around me.

To be continued... 



People Can Change Ch. 02



Having thrown my wife naked into the street in the mistaken belief that she had starred in a gang bang movie, I found myself divorced, with a criminal record for assault and now knowing that my business is only viable because my wife had been subsidising it to the tune of a thousand pounds a month. Access to my children was restricted to a couple of hours a week and even that would be supervised.

The one good thing about being down, the only way is up and I was determined to get up. I needed to cut a thousand pounds a month from the running costs of the company and in the short term there was only one way of doing that. One of the tyre fitters would have to go. Eric was with the company when I took it over. He was forty five and had a wife and two children to support. Tom was twenty two and had only been with me for three years. He was young, free and single. I had taken him on because Julie didn't like me coming home black from the tyres and smelling of rubber. It seemed like no contest, but I still didn't like doing it. I got in early that Monday and was doing my calculations when the boys turned up. It was just at that point that I had a brainwave. I called them both into the office and l put my cards on the table. I had to make savings and their salaries were the only things I could cut. I told Eric he was safe and outlined my reasons. Then I turned to Tom.

"You understand why it has to be you, don't you Tom?" I asked him.

"Yeah, Eric's got more years than me and more commitments. It don't make it any easier though, does it?"

"No, Tom, it doesn't, but I might be able to sweeten it a bit. I have to check my calculations, but I think that I could probably afford to keep you on for sixteen hours a week. It would be a big drop in income for you, but it would still be better than benefits. In addition to that you could go to college and study to be a mechanic. The company will pay your course fees."

He brightened up a bit. I knew that college would appeal to him; he had often said how he wished he had taken the opportunity when it was there.

"Talk to me again at the end of the day," I said. "I'll know for sure whether that will give me enough of a saving and you'll know whether you want to take me up on it."

Neither of them were particularly happy about our conversation, but I hoped I'd convinced them. It really was the only way to stop us all being out of work. My next action was to ring Clare and ask her to check the rules on part time employment and my figures on employers National Insurance contributions. I needed to ensure that my idea was actually feasible. Clare agreed to check and get back to me. Then I phoned the social services to arrange to see my children. I hadn't seen them since this whole sorry mess kicked off and I wanted to get something sorted out as soon as possible.

The girl at the social services office outlined the procedure for supervised access. It seemed that the kids had to be taken to their offices where I would be allowed to be in the same room with them. A social worker would be present at all times. I felt my anger rising as she told me all this. They were my kids and I had never harmed a hair of their heads, yet I was being treated like some child molester. Before I exploded I heard Clare's voice in my head.

"Just remember, Greg baby, they hold all the cards. Get angry with them and it'll only put back the day when you get proper access."

I regained a semblance of calm and made an appointment for 3pm on Wednesday.

Just after lunch Clare called and congratulated me on finding a workable solution. Now, if Tom was OK with it, I had the chance to get out with minimum casualties. He came into the office just before we shut up shop.

"If I can't manage and find another full time job, do I have to pay back the course fees?" he asked.

"No," I said, "I'm hoping you'll want to come back as soon as I have enough work for you, but if you need the money and find another job, then you go and owe me nothing."

"If I don't take this then I'm out of work, aren't I? Sounds like I can't lose." We shook hands on the deal and he agreed to start on reduced hours from the beginning of the following week.

On Wednesday afternoon I arrived at 2.30pm and was shown to a waiting room. A number of people came and went while I sat there. One of them, a rather severe looking woman in her early forties, looked at me each time she passed. On the third pass she stopped.

"Mr Maitland," she said, "it is absolutely pointless you turning up so early. You will not see your wife. She'll be brought in through a different entrance."

"I'm not waiting to see my ex-wife," I corrected her. "I was hoping to talk to one of you folks for a while."

"I'm sorry, Mr Maitland, we cannot discuss your case. Any changes in the access rules will be dealt with in accordance with strict criteria already laid down." 

I got up, and noticed that she stepped backwards.

"Any attempt at intimidation will only count against you," she said.

"Whoa, hold on there," I said. "What's all this talk of intimidation? I was just hoping for a little advice."

She seemed to soften and stopped backing away.

"Advice about what?" she asked. "You know I can't discuss your case."

"And I wouldn't want you to," I replied. "I'm sure you've been acquainted with the case. I was a right bastard to my wife and I know it. After my trial she told me I needed help. You know, proper professional help, to stop me flying off the handle like that. Well, I got to thinking that maybe she was right, but I don't know how to go about it. I was rather hoping that someone here could point me in the right direction."

She was suddenly a bit tongue tied. She blushed a bit and even gave me half a smile.

"I am sorry, Mr Maitland. I should have given you more chance. If you saw some of the people we get coming here for supervised visits you'd understand why we get a bit prickly."

"I read the papers," I said.

"You enjoy your visit, Mr Maitland, and when you come out just press the buzzer and ask for Janice. I'll let you know what I've found out."

Just as she was about to leave the room she stopped. "Mr Maitland," she said, "do I recall correctly? You were a soldier weren't you?"

"Royal Marine," I corrected her, "and please call me Greg."

"OK. I'll see what I can find for you, Greg." With that, she disappeared.

As the door opened, the children saw me. Annabel, now nearly five, came running across the room to me. Three year old Grace was a little more reluctant.

For anyone who hasn't experienced supervised visits, they must do as much to damage good parent relationships as they do to protect children. You're limited to the use of one room, and a social worker is present with you the whole time. They watch what you do and they listen to what you say. Nothing can be private. There's a panic button on the wall for them to summon assistance and some are fitted with a two way mirror so a team can actually observe you. To say that it's a pressurised environment would be understating the case.

Grace sat on the floor and I sat with her, playing with the toys. That's when I realised how little I knew about how to play with a three year old girl. Annabel was slightly easier but she asked awkward questions like, "Why don't you live in our house any more?"

The first hour flew by, but, as the children got bored with the toys provided, the second hour really dragged. I was ready when the social worker told me time was up. On the way out I did indeed ring for Janice and this time she came out all smiles.

"Ah, Mr Maitland, sorry - Greg. You'll be pleased to know that I've found you a place on a scheme run especially to cater for the needs of ex-service personnel."

"It seems," she went on, "that you are not the only one who has difficulty adjusting to civilian life."

"I coped fine till about four months ago."

"Apparently, that is quite common," she said. "I had a long chat to the man that runs the project. He said people can behave normally for years and appear to have made a perfect adjustment. Then some trauma occurs and they revert to battlefield mentality. He really was very interesting and I think he'll be able to help you. I've taken the liberty of making you an appointment for four pm on Friday. I hope that's all right."

"All right?" I said. "Janice, I could kiss you." 

She blushed. "You'd better not. I don't think my husband would understand."

"In that case, tell him to give you an extra big one from me," I said as she blushed even more.

Not so long ago I would have laughed at the idea of seeing a shrink. Not so long ago I would never have believed that I could assault my wife. In spite of the unsatisfactory visit, I left the building with a light heart and made my way back to Clare's place.

Over dinner that night I told her about my visit and about my chats with Janice.

"You silver tongued devil," she laughed. "You couldn't have done your case any more good if you had planned it."

I must have looked puzzled.

"Don't you see?" she asked. "They would have suggested all of that at the case conference. Then they would have waited till the next conference, to judge whether you had complied. All that time you would have been on supervised visits. Now, at their first conference anyone who suggests anger management or behaviour modification will be shot down in flames because you're already doing it voluntarily. With any luck your new friend Janice will be on the team and you'll already have an ally."

"Well, that isn't the reason I did it," I told her. "I can't get over what I did to Julie. Even when she was outside, naked and bleeding, I could feel nothing for her. If I can do that to someone I love, I could end up killing someone just because they upset me."

Clare grabbed my arm and crushed her head against my shoulder. "You're not the sort to go killing people."

"I am and I have."

"Yeah, on the battlefield with a gun."

"On and off the battlefield, with guns, knives and even my bare hands. Do you know what? My country said I was a good guy and gave me medals for it."

I saw her expression change when I mentioned bare hands. Suddenly she realised how serious it could be.

That Friday I drove down to Aldershot to see the shrink, counsellor or whatever he called himself. I was somewhat surprised when I actually met him. He introduced himself as John. Around the office were a number of pictures of him in uniform, but with different groups of men. When I asked, he told me of seeing action in the Falklands and the first Gulf War. Back in Civvy Street he had studied psychology and as a final year project he had carried out a study on the effects of conflicts on returning soldiers. He told me how he had begun to see something that other people seemed to have missed. Everyone knew about things like Post Traumatic Stress disorder but he had noticed how many ex-servicemen ended up in prison for violent crimes. Although it was not a large proportion of prisoners, it was disproportionately large when compared to the number of ex-servicemen in the population. This had won him funding for further investigation and to set up his treatment centre.

After this introduction, he asked me to describe the situation that had led to my trial and ultimately to being in his office. I told him all about the video and how I had physically thrown Julie out, stark naked, into the street.

"When you had finished, did you feel sorry for her?" he asked.

"No."

"Why was that, Greg?"

"I don't know. I suppose I thought she had brought it on herself and didn't deserve my sympathy." I told him.

"If another man, maybe a friend of yours, had the same experience and tried to do the same thing to his wife, would you condone it?"

"Of course not," I said. "I would try to stop him."

"Why?"

"That's a stupid bloody question," I said "Because it's wrong. Because you can't treat a woman like that."

"But you did, Greg, and what's more, you had no sympathy for her afterwards. Why do you think that is?" he asked.

When I couldn't answer that question he moved on.

"Do you hate your wife, Greg?"

"Good god, no," I said. "I miss her so bad it hurts. I would take her back tomorrow if she'd have me."

"If she had done what you thought she'd done, would you hate her then?"

"Well, I wouldn't want her back, if that's what you're asking?"

"But would you hate her?" he asked. "Hate her enough to want to kill her?"

"No, not like that," I said.

"Yet, you hated Julie without even knowing that she had definitely done what you thought, didn't you?" he pressed "Hated her enough to kill her, if she'd fought back."

"That's why you could feel no sympathy. You hated her the same way as you hated the Taliban bastards who were blowing up your mates."

The interview progressed in a similar manner. He kept showing up the conflicts within me, making me confront them. It was not a comfortable hour. As our time came to an end he brought up the subject of anger.

"The way I see it, Greg, for you, anger is tied to hatred. When someone makes you angry, for a short time you really hate that person. Such a link can be very useful on the battlefield. It's what makes some men heroes and what earns them medals. In civilian life it gets you thrown in prison."

"What we have to do," he continued, "is break that link and then help you to channel your anger and aggression into something more productive."

When I left his office I just sat in my car with my head in my hands. My head had never been in such a state, not even when returning from our worst Afghan patrols. It wasn't a warm evening, but I still left the top down and aimed the Morgan homeward.

When I got back to Clare's place she looked at me and I saw her face drop.

"My God, what's happened to you?" she asked. "You look like shit."

I really couldn't face any more questions, so I went to my room and tried to read, and then to sleep.

Over the next couple of weeks the sessions did get a bit easier to take and my supervised visits got easier as I learned to take things like colouring books and crayons with me. My relationship with Janice became much more friendly. She asked me to sign a release form so they could contact John for information about my state of mind and whether I was a danger. On the sixth week of my visits she came out to see me with a big smile on her face.

"We had a case conference about you yesterday," she said. "You'll be pleased to know that we don't see any need to continue with the supervision. From now on it'll be up to you and your wife to work out visitation. I hope that's good news."

"It's the best," I said. "You tell that husband of yours that he'd better look after you or I might just get you to weaken."

"I've already told him I've been flirting with a handsome young soldier," she laughed.

"Marine," I corrected her.

"Whatever," she said. "Good luck with the visitation, and if you need any help you know where we are."

The knowledge that I'd no longer have someone watching me like a hawk whenever I went near my children was a big relief. It made it worth all the therapy sessions, which were still tearing me apart. I knew Julie wouldn't be difficult with me over visitation. We agreed that to start I would have them every other Sunday and that would extend to the whole weekend as soon as I had somewhere to live where they could stay over. She even offered to let me use the house so that I didn't feel I had to find somewhere to take them each time.

When I turned up at the house for my first visit, Julie was very friendly. We sat down and enjoyed a coffee together. She asked how things were going at work and said she had met Eric and his wife in the supermarket. Eric had told her I had cut Tom's hours. I told her I'd discovered she had been subsidising the company and now, without that subsidy, and with the demands of the CSA and half the mortgage, economies had to be made. 

"I am sorry about hiding my cash injections from you. I couldn't think of a better way of putting cash in your pocket, but looking back it might have been better to let you work out your own solution."

I couldn't believe this. She was apologising for helping me out and trying to preserve my dignity.

"About the CSA payments," she said. "You do know that I don't get that money. I claim a single parent's tax allowance but that's all I get out of it. We can both try to appeal to reduce it if you like."

"Maybe," I said.

"Well, I just wanted you to know that it's not me that wants to cripple you financially." 

"I have never thought that," I told her.

We finished our coffee and she told me that she was going to spend the day with her parents and left me with the girls. It was good to be back in the house and with my two daughters. I looked around and was surprised to see our wedding photograph still displayed in the usual place. Then I realised that Julie was also still wearing her rings. 

Later that week I got a call from my solicitor. He told me that Julie was willing to give up her share of my business if I was willing to give up my share of the house.

"What do you mean, her share of the business?" I asked. "This is my business, always has been."

"Not any more, Mr Maitland. The court awarded your wife fifty percent of all of your joint assets. Your business is one of those assets and as such your wife is entitled to fifty percent."

I said nothing. I was still trying to take it in. At first I started to feel angry, but I reminded myself that it was anger got me into this.

"Your wife isn't trying to screw you," the solicitor said. "It is true that your house would be worth significantly more than your business, but your wife is offering to take over full responsibility for the mortgage. If you agree then we can wrap this up with the court."

"Yeah, what the hell," I said. "At least there'll be something that's mine."

"Very well," he said. "I'll send the documents to your business address. All you need to do is sign and return them."

I agreed to do just that. I did wonder whether Julie was trying to help me out by taking over responsibility for the mortgage and enabling me to support myself. I found myself confused. She was obviously trying to help me cope with the divorce, so she must still care, but she gave no indication that she wanted to get back together. When I received the papers I did sign and return them and yes, I was more able to cope without the mortgage.

When I tried to talk to Julie about it at the next access visit all she would say was, "It was never my intention to punish you, Greg. After all, you are my children's father."

Relations continued to improve and once or twice she even rang me and asked me to pick up the girls from nursery. This made it all the more difficult to accept when the decree absolute dropped through the door. That was it, my marriage was over and nothing I could do would bring it back. 

Clare took me out to dinner that evening in an attempt to cheer me up. It didn't really work. In fact it sort of made things worse. I started to feel that she was acting like we were a couple rather than just two friends.

Following the decree absolute I got the accounts from both my own and Julie's solicitors. Along with that came a cheque for more than five thousand pounds. Apparently, that was my share of our joint assets after the lawyers had been paid. I knew they were not my assets, so the money must have come from Julie's accounts. I'd never been comfortable with Julie bringing home so much more than me and now to be taking her money seemed wrong. I sent the cheque back to her solicitors with a letter saying I was refusing to accept it.

Julie and I were getting on reasonably well and I decided that for now I would be happy with that. However, there were some things that had to change. Living with Clare was not working out. From my side it was always two friends sharing a house and sometimes a bed. From Clare's side of things I thought I saw a change. She started to ask me to accompany her to social engagements where I was introduced as her partner or her toy boy. Even when I slept in my own bed I frequently woke up to find her kneeling at the side of my bed with her head bobbing up and down on my morning glory. One evening we had a long chat about it 




People Can Change Ch. 02



"Clare, we are still friends aren't we?"

"Of course we are." she said.

"No I mean that we're still just friends, right?"

She looked a little embarrassed "Well I hoped that maybe we were becoming a bit more than that"

"I am sorry Clare. You have been a great friend to me and I love you dearly but only as a friend."

"Of course you do. Why would you want to get involved with an old bird like me" she said as tears filled her eyes.

"You're not old." I told her "You're a fine woman and you deserve a good man but we both know that I can't be that man. Julie would only have to say the word and I'd be gone like a shot. I don't want to be another man that breaks your heart and if we carry on the way we are that is exactly what I'd be."

The tears started to flow and I pulled her head to my chest. I just sat and held her while she cried. As the sobs subsided I lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. 

"You know I have to move out don't you?" 

She nodded. "We will still be friends though?"

"Clare you will always be a very special friend as far as I am concerned. I just can't love you the way I think you want me to."

She dried her eyes got up and poured us a glass of wine each.

"When will you go?" she asked

"As soon as I've found somewhere."

"I am so sorry Clare. I know I've hurt you but it would hurt a lot more if we let it continue."

The next morning her eyes were still red. Once more I felt like a right bastard. She had agreed to stay friends and I really hoped we could.

I found a small flat over a takeaway in the town centre. Now having found somewhere to live, the next task was to turn my business into something that would support a family. I had made a start, but now I had to go further. I had an idea, but it required capital. Capital that I didn't have. I was on my way to Aldershot for my weekly session with John when it struck me. Of course I had capital - I was driving it. A five year old Morgan +4 in mint condition was worth a considerable sum. With a four year waiting list for a new one there would be no problem selling it. We had a small company van that I could use, so whatever I got for the Morgan would finance my project. I investigated as soon as I got back.

Eric couldn't believe it when the buyer came to pick up the Morgan. He came straight into our little office.

"Are we in trouble boss?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Why should we be?"

"That car was your pride and joy," he said. "When you lost Julie I thought, 'He's always got the Morgan to lavish affection on.' So why have you sold it?"

"I needed the money for something," I told him. "Stick around long enough and you'll see what."

On my next visit to the children Julie was obviously not happy.

"You've sold the Morgan," she said, "yet you sent the divorce settlement money back. Do you hate me that much that you can't bear to take anything from me?"

"I don't hate you," I told her. "I'd give my right arm not to have done what I did, and to be still married to you. Don't you see? That was your money. Taking that would have been like profiting from my own bad behaviour."

"But you sold the Morgan. You loved that car. I always looked on that as my main competition. Eric said you needed the money. So why didn't you ask me?"

"Julie," I said. "It may have escaped your notice but you are no longer my wife. I don't like that fact one little bit, but I have accepted that it's true. Thanks to the deal our solicitors did you no longer have any interest in J&G Tyre Services. So when I am looking for money to invest in the business, I look first to the bank and then to releasing my own assets. If I have to have a life without you then that business has got to bring in enough to support a family outright. I intend to see that it does and I intend to do it on my own. Anyway, when does Eric feed you all this information?"

She looked a bit embarrassed for revealing her sources.

"I often see him and his wife in the supermarket on Friday nights. He is worrying about his job, but he also worries about you."

"Well, he has no need to worry on either account," I told her. "In the next couple of weeks he will see what I wanted the money for. Meanwhile, driving around in a connoisseur's sports car is a luxury I can do without."

I gathered up the girls and took them out for the day. When I returned Julie only wanted to talk about what we'd been doing, so I guess she accepted the situation.

In the next two weeks I bought a Transit drop-side truck and mounted a petrol driven compressor on the back. I fitted tyre changing jigs and also got heavy duty pneumatic jacks. I got Tom in to cover and sent Eric on a couple of courses on the use of the airbag jacks and changing lorry tyres on the road. The motorway passed within a couple of miles of our workshop and I was going to get in on the lucrative business of emergency tyre services for commercial vehicles.

It took about six months for the new venture to start paying off, but pay off it did. The hauliers were willing to pay whatever it took to get their trucks back on the road and with Europ Assistance and Mondial Services using us, I was in need of more help. I already had Tom back working as many hours as he could manage, but he was unwilling to give up his college course. I couldn't blame him for that. When I checked with Clare I found that the company had never been in such a sound financial state.

My weekly trips to Aldershot had become less stressful. We had passed the stage of confronting the problem and John had got me into group therapy. I missed driving the Morgan down there. The little company van just was not the same. My life was definitely on the up, yet still there was something missing. It was not sex, I could get that when I wanted it. Clare and I were still keeping each other supplied in that department. However, the only person for whom I had any strong emotional attachment didn't want to be anything more than friendly. I was beginning to understand what it meant to be lonely.

I was dreading my first Christmas alone, so when Clare invited me to spend Christmas day with her I jumped at the chance. The following weekend when I went to visit the girls I got a second invitation. Julie told me the children wanted me to come for Christmas. I don't know if she knew how much that hurt. She didn't want me, but she was prepared to invite me because the girls wanted Daddy on Christmas day. That may not have been what she really meant, but it was how it sounded to me. I told her I had already made other plans but I would be happy to come over for Boxing Day and she reluctantly accepted the compromise. She must have spoken to Eric again because a week later I got a phone call at work.

"Hello, Greg Maitland."

"YOUR BOOKKEEPER?" she shouted down the phone. "YOU GIVE UP THE CHANCE TO BE WITH YOUR CHILDREN ON CHRISTMAS DAY TO BE WITH A WOMAN WHO IS OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR MOTHER?"

"Julie, just calm down and I'll explain. She asked me before you did."

"Well, I would have thought that we would still take precedence," she said.

"Look, she has no one else to go to. When she asked me it looked like two lonely people could actually get together for the day and cheer each other up a bit. Now, you can't expect me to leave her on her own, can you? Anyway, according to you it's only the girls who want me to come. You don't want me there."

There was a period of silence before she came back with, "Don't be stupid, of course I want you to come. OK, I'm sorry if it sounded like it was only the girls that wanted you. You could bring your friend with you, if you like."

"Well, thanks very much for the invitation. I'll ask her," I said.

"Is that the only reason you turned us down?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Because you didn't want to leave her on her own at Christmas?"

"More or less."

"You've changed," she said.

"Well maybe that's a good thing," I responded. "Now, we are really busy here, so if it's all right with you I'll hang up now. I'll ring Clare later and extend your invitation, and call you back tonight. Is that OK?"

"Yes," she said. "And, Greg..... I am sorry I shouted at you."

And so it was that Clare met Julie, Annabel and Grace. We all had a great time and it set the scene for Christmases to come.

As we were about to leave Julie kissed my cheek and said, "I really like her. A bit blunt at times, but a nice person." 

"Yes," I said. "She deserves better from life. Thanks for making her so welcome."

She gave me a curious look, as if she couldn't quite believe what I had said, and then we were out of the door. As I drove her home Clare suddenly said, "You know what is really surprising? In spite of what you did to her, that girl still loves you."

"Did she say that?" I asked.

"She didn't have to say it. It is blindingly obvious to everyone except you two silly buggers. You only have to see how proudly she speaks about the way you have turned your business around. The only question is, how long is it going to be till you both wake up to the fact that you were born to be together."

Clare made up her mind to do whatever she could to get Julie and I back together. What neither of us knew was that there were other forces working for the opposite end. Christmas and New Year came and went. Julie and I seemed to be getting closer. However, as soon as she went back to work we were back to cordial relations. I was totally confused. It was one step forward, two steps back. It would seem all I could do was wait.

Everything else in my life was going well. Down in Aldershot I had been leading the discussion groups for some months when John called me into his office.

"Greg," he said. "I am sorry to have to admit that I have been using you the last few months. There is really no need for you to come here any more. I haven't mentioned it before because it has been beneficial for us to have you leading the groups."

"You mean I'm free to go?" I asked.

"You've been free to go since the day you came," he said. "What I'm saying to you is that you've achieved a great deal and I don't think there is any more benefit in you coming to these sessions."

I left feeling a little bit proud of myself. As I reflected on the year, even I could see the progress I'd made in dealing with situations that made me angry. I just hoped I would never have to find out how I'd react, if confronted with a situation like the one that caused me to tear my marriage apart. 

Weeks turned into months, months into years and my life got better in almost every respect. Two years after the divorce, or AD as I came to refer to it, one of the big car dealerships folded. They were a nationwide organisation but they had a showroom and workshop in our town. I made enquiries and found out what sort of price the receiver was looking for. Clare helped me with the business plan and this time when I went to the bank they couldn't do enough for me. 

No one believed I would get the premises for less than half a million, but I did. For only three hundred thousand I got the showroom and forecourt and the fully equipped workshop. I already had a used car company wanting to rent the showroom and forecourt. The rent alone covered my repayments on the loan to buy the whole place. Tom had just finished his course and, as I knew he would, left me to work in a local garage. Once the deal was sealed I went around to pick him up from work.

"How would you like to be your own boss Tom?" I asked.

"I can't afford the set up costs," he said.

We arrived at the workshop and I took him in for a look. He looked around. We had four bays with hydraulic lifts plus space for all the diagnostic equipment.

"Now, I need at least one bay for tyres, but with jacks we can use some of the open space. What I'm offering you is one of the bays. They'll be fully equipped - that is, if you help me select the equipment we need."

"We'll work out a fixed scale of charges for the jobs we're prepared to undertake, and that's what the customer pays. I supply all materials and parts and the cost will be added to the customer's bill. You can do as much or as little work as you want, but you pay me a weekly rent for the bay and the equipment. As we get more business and get more blokes in here I'll give you a discount on your rent in return for keeping an eye on them. I don't want any bodge jobs going out of here."

"Who allocates the work" he asked.

"I do," I said. "It'll be in rotation except when a customer asks for a particular fitter to work on their car. If they want you to do the job, they get you, unless you can't fit them in, in which case we offer it to someone else. So how does it sound? Are you in?"

"It sounds too bloody good to be true," he said. "If the numbers add up I am definitely in."

That was the start of J&G Auto Services and locally it broke the mould of car servicing. Within the year all three servicing bays were occupied and each of the fitters took home more money than they ever did working for other garages. Clare did well out of it because all the guys needed someone to keep them within the law and sort out their tax.

It was shortly after moving into the new workshops that my first romantic interlude since the divorce began. The local companies that supply the motor trade all use good looking young women to take orders and make deliveries. It was one such woman who waltzed into my life. Her name was Kelly, a blonde of about five foot four, very slim with a fantastic smile. She had come to collect orders and picked me out as the man to speak to.

"Hello, I'm Kelly from Brandon Auto Factors. I was passing, so I thought I'd call in to see if you needed anything," she said.

"Oh, he needs something all right," Eric called out.

She grinned and I introduced myself. "Greg Maitland," I said. "I own this place."

"Oh, the Ice Man himself. I'm pleased to meet you." 

"You'll have to explain that one." 

"It's the nickname the girls have for you," she said. "We're supposed to flirt a bit with the customers. You know, make out we fancy you. It's supposed to make you give us orders. The girls say nothing works on you, that you must be cold as ice. So now you're the Ice Man."

We both laughed at that. "I'm not cold," I told her. "I just don't see the point in starting something that can't go anywhere. Most of your girls are married."

It was then she held up her left hand to show me the empty third finger. "Divorced," she said.

"Me too," I said, "but I can't get mine off."

I didn't really know if that was true or not. I had only tried to get it off once since the divorce and gave up when it wouldn't go over the knuckle. We chatted for a while and I found myself making a date for Thursday night. As she left, there were cat calls from the blokes in the workshop, including Eric who was eager to know if I was going to get what I needed.

She had asked me to call when I was on my way over, and she would wait outside. When I picked her up she looked amazing. She was wearing a dark green trench coat just draped over her shoulders. Underneath was a tight fitting red satin dress with a halter top and a skirt that barely reached mid thigh. The date went really well. We went to dinner and then on to a club. She told me she was living back home with her parents, and her mother was looking after the children. She had two kids, a girl and a boy, aged three and two. She had divorced her husband when she caught him cheating with her best friend. I filled her in on my background and by the time twelve o'clock rolled around neither of us wanted the night to end. Nevertheless, I drove her home and kissed her good night at the gate. It was a long, lingering kiss that screamed out "More, more, I want more," but I was determined to be the gentleman. I asked what she was doing on Friday.

"Washing my hair," she said.

"What about the weekend?" I asked. "I could take you and the kids out."

"Most weekends are out," she said. "I have to take the kids to Reading to see their Dad."

"Why doesn't he come here?" I asked.

"I got the car as part of the divorce settlement, so he says because he has no transport I have to take the children to him. I usually stay over with a friend in Reading and bring them back the next day. I am free Monday, though."

"Monday's not good," I said. "Most of the restaurants and clubs will be closed."

"Well, we don't have to go out. I could come to your place and cook for you," she said.

"OK, but I'll do the cooking."

And that was it. My second date in only two years, all sorted out.

From the time she stepped through the front door of my little flat I got the idea Kelly was not much interested in the food. She wore the same green trench coat, but when I took that from her shoulders I saw she was wearing a strapless black leather dress that barely covered her pussy and zipped down the front almost to the hem. As we ate it was hard to keep my eyes off the neck line of the dress. I kept expecting her nipples to pop out the top. By the time I had cleared the dishes away and served the coffee I was already hard.

"Well," I said, "what would you like to do now? I've got a good selection of DVDs if you fancy watching one of them."

She fixed me with a look as if she was trying to gauge what my reaction would be, and then she said it right out loud.

"I wanna fuck."

"I want you to take me to the bedroom and fuck my brains out. Then, as soon as you've recovered I want you to do it again. I want you to fuck me till I scream for mercy and, when I do, I want you to ignore my screams and just keep on fucking me. I want you to fill my cunt with hot meat and then shove it down my throat so I can hardly breathe. I want you to eat my pussy till I flood your mouth with my cum. I want you."

I was a little taken aback by her statement, but after a short pause I took her hand.

"I really like a woman who knows what she wants," I said, as I led her to the bedroom.

I was right about her not wearing a bra. As I unzipped her dress I found no panties either. She was very slim, not curvy like Julie. Her small breasts were in keeping with the rest of her body, as was her small round arse. No sooner had the leather dress hit the floor than she was fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. She then moved on to the belt of my trousers and in no time they fell to the floor. As I stepped out of them she dropped to the floor, tugging my jockey shorts down as she went. My beast was now available to her and she started raining kisses down upon it. Her tongue went to town, licking and swirling. I was leaking pre-cum long before she took it fully into her mouth. She thrust her head further and further forward till I could feel the end of my dick pop into her throat. Still she tried harder. Her hands were on my arse, pulling me into her ravenous mouth. I felt her finger enter my arse and almost immediately my dick exploded into her mouth and throat. Shot after shot of semen squirted into her. She calmed as I began to soften and slowly she pulled her mouth away. She stood up, put her hands either side of my head and kissed me passionately. Her tongue entered my mouth and she shared the taste of my own cum with me. She turned me round and walked me backwards so that I fell back on the bed. Then, almost without breaking her movement, she was on the bed, on her knees, moving her legs up either side of me. She stopped and sat for a moment on my chest, looking down at me.

"Now it's your turn."

She moved further up the bed till her bald pussy was over my mouth. I went to work with my tongue, licking at her little clitty and driving my tongue deeper into her, interspersing this with periods of just sucking on her pussy in an amorous kiss. I brought my hands up to reach her perky little breasts and used my thumbs on her nipples. She started thrusting her hips, forcing her pussy harder and harder onto my mouth. As I brought my tongue back to her clit she started to moan and thrust even harder. "Oh god, oh god, oh eaeeeeey," she screamed as her juices started to flow into my mouth and down over my chin onto the sheets below. She fell sideways off me and lay for a moment alongside me. I rolled into her and held her tight, running my fingers up and down her back as I did so. Her pubic mound started thumping against my chest and she was soon astride me again. This time it was my dick she was interested in.




People Can Change Ch. 02



I reached out to the drawer by the bed and pulled out a condom. "No," she said, as I fumbled to open it. 

I looked into her eyes. "Yes," I said, "or we stop right now."

She waited until I had rolled the condom on before taking hold of my dick and feeding it up into her pussy. Soon she was riding me cowgirl style and the groans were coming thick and fast. Suddenly she threw her hands back to grab her ankles and she started moving her hips as she came down to get greater penetration. She gave out a loud scream as another orgasm shot through her. I was still hard when she recovered so she turned herself round so that she was facing my feet and started again. I could sense another orgasm building and this one coincided with me filling my condom. She fell forward onto my feet as she felt the last throws of her orgasm. I reached down, pulled off the condom and threw it into the bin. 

I don't know if she passed out or fell asleep, but she lay quite still on top of my legs. As she lay there I started gently stroking the inside of her legs. I moved further up into her arse crack and her hips lifted in response. When I did it again she clenched her buttocks so they held on to my hand as I lifted it away. I started to massage her little anus, and again she lifted her arse in the air. I pushed one finger into her anus, just up to the first knuckle. Her sphincter gripped the finger and her whole arse move up with the finger when I started to pull it up. As I pulled it out she turned to look at me.

"Fuck my arse, Greg. Please fuck my arse," she said. 

I reached for another condom and, putting it on, called her back to the cowgirl position. Her pussy was really dripping now and I used its fluids to lubricate both my dick and her anus. I positioned her anus over my dick and allowed her to sink down onto it. As she started her rise and fall her hand came around to rub her clitoris. I reached forward and took hold of both of her breasts. We often used to say in the service that more than a handful was a waste. Well if that's true then Kelly was wasting nothing. Each breast fitted my hand perfectly and as I squeezed and massaged her moans increased. She soon started bouncing up and down enthusiastically on my dick. Her rectal muscles and sphincter were gripping my dick as she rose . The experience was mind blowing. Suddenly, I felt her clench around me and she screamed as once again an orgasm flushed through her. She fell forward onto me and I just held her. It was after twelve when we hit the shower and nearly one before she left.

As I lay in bed that night I tried to make sense of what had happened. I had been well and truly fucked, of that there was no question. As to whether it had been a pleasurable experience I was not so sure. However, I certainly slept well and almost missed the alarm in the morning. Kelly called in to see me the next day and made arrangements to meet again that evening. I decided on a meal and a film, though she seemed keen on a repeat of the previous night. I would be lying if I said that I didn't like being with Kelly. She made me feel good, but I wanted to get to know her, not just fuck her. During the meal I told her some of my life story and tried to get her to open up with some of her own. I wondered what must have happened to her to make her so withdrawn, getting each little bit of information was like drawing teeth. I decided to be patient and let things happen at their own pace.

Eric had obviously seen Julie in the supermarket again because on Sunday when I picked up the girls she made me a coffee and sat down for a chat. She asked about my new girlfriend with not a little jealousy in her eyes. 

"I'm so pleased for you," she said. "You need a woman in your life."

"Yes, I do," I agreed. "I do need a woman in my life. I need a particular woman in my life, but in spite of the fact that she still loves me, she refuses to have anything to do with me. All I can do is find a pale imitation."

"Now, Greg we've been through this before. You know why we can never be together. I just can't trust you. I wouldn't feel safe."

"Just who is that talking, Julie? It can't be the woman who is about to let me leave with her two precious children. Who is it that says I'm still a danger to you?"

"I know who it isn't," I continued. "It isn't the social services. They think it's perfectly safe for me to be unsupervised with my children. It isn't my shrink. He thinks I've made amazing progress and doesn't need to see me any more." 

She seemed totally shocked at my mention of a psychiatrist and for a moment was at a loss for words.

"You can't just expect me to forget what you did to me," she said.

"Of course I don't expect you to forget it," I said. "Why should you? I certainly can't. I'd just like the chance to show you that I am not that man any more."

"I don't want to discuss this Greg. I think you'd better take the girls out for their daddy time."

As I was leaving I suddenly realised that she had not denied that she still loved me. Clare was right. I put Grace and Annabel in the car and drove away. When I returned Julie just let them in and kept me on the doorstep while we sorted out the time for the next visit.

The relationship with Kelly continued and seemed to be getting ever more sexual. Her refusal to let me into the rest of her life puzzled me. I was so troubled by it that one night, as she was about to leave my flat, I asked her.

"Kelly, are you ashamed of me or something?"

"Of course not," she answered. "How can you ask that? You're a successful businessman with the body of Adonis and hung like a mule. What is there to be ashamed of?"

"You live with your parents, but you never let me meet them. You have two children, but we never take them out. It's almost as if you're trying to hide me from them."

"You have nothing to worry about, lover boy," she said, as she was leaving.

Two days later I got the answer to my questions. Following another marathon sex session, Kelly had just got in the shower. I reached out to turn the clock round and accidentally knocked her handbag off the shelf. I got out of bed and started gathering up her belongings to put them back in her bag. That's when I saw them. There, with her phone, lipstick and make-up kit, were two gold rings, one with a solitaire diamond set in it. A chill went through my bones. I put on my robe and slipped the two rings into my pocket. I told myself there might be a perfectly reasonable explanation. She could have taken them off months ago and simply forgot they were in her bag. I thought about it and decided if she hadn't missed them in a couple of days I would tell her I found them while cleaning and give them back.

Kelly came out of the shower, tripped across the bedroom and got dressed. I went to the door with her and as she kissed me goodnight she whispered, "See you tomorrow, lover." and was gone. I have to admit I expected it to take longer than five minutes, but just as I was making my way back to the bedroom my doorbell rang.

"I think I dropped something in the bedroom," she said. 

I let her go straight to the bedroom and could hear her turning it upside down as she searched. When she gave up in the bedroom she came back to the lounge, searching down the sides of the sofa and under the cushions.

"It would help," I said, "if I knew what you were looking for."

She stopped for a moment, obviously trying to think of what to say.

"My phone," she said. "I've lost my phone."

I walked to the kitchen, picked up my mobile, and punched in the speed dial sequence for Kelly's phone. The first sound was the vibrator, then came the ring tone.

"It sounds like the phone is in your bag," I said as she started to blush.

I sat down at the table and put the rings down on it.

"You see I asked because I thought you might be searching for these," I said, pointing at the rings.

"You've been through my bag. How dare you? You have no right," she screamed at me.

"This is good," I said. "The woman who has lied, cheated and deceived at least two men is suddenly concerned about what is right. Now sit down." I pointed to the chair opposite.

"So," I said. "Now I know that you are not divorced, what else is a lie? Do you have any children? Do you live with your parents? And what does hubby think you're doing when you're round here getting fucked senseless?"

"Yes, I do have two lovely children and they are my pride and joy. Yes, I do live with my mother. We can't afford to buy a house and living with mum helps us save for a deposit. Rob doesn't know that I go out at night. He works the night shift at the plastics factory. Mum thinks I go out with the girls and I let her. That's why I never let you call for me - don't want the neighbours talking."

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because I hardly see him. I work all day, he works all night. He's like a bear with a sore head on Saturdays so that only leaves us Sundays. Then all day I'm surrounded by men. Men who find me attractive, men who want to flirt with me, men like you."

She was starting to look sad and pathetic, but I was in no mood to stop.

"So why me? What was it that made you take off your rings and show me your naked hand? Was it lonely business man, easy prey? Was it the challenge of cracking the Ice Man? Or were you looking to trade up to a new husband with more cash?"

The tears started to flow now. There's nothing like confronting your behaviour to make you feel like shit.

"All of them, I suppose," she said, being honest for the first time. "The other delivery girls kept going on about how good looking you were and I wanted to see for myself. Well I did see, and I liked what I saw. They told me you'd been on your own for a couple of years, but you never responded to any of their flirting. Eric told them you definitely weren't gay so they called you the Ice Man and I wanted to see if I could thaw you out. Yes, I thought you were lonely and would be appreciative. But once we started making love, I started falling for you."

"Making love?" I said. "You call what we did making love? We were just two people using each other for sex. You fuck like a porn star, but there was never any love. For what it's worth, I found it satisfying but I can't say I enjoyed it."

"So why did you let it go on?" she asked. "If I was so useless."

"I never said you were useless. I liked you. I liked being with you. Add to that, yes, I was lonely and I needed a woman in my life. I thought I could teach you the lovemaking."

"You still can," she said quietly. "I can get a divorce."

"If you do get a divorce it'll be nothing to do with me," I said. "I am a sad and lonely man because my wife divorced me just over two years ago. I am not about to do that to someone else. If I had known you were married I would never have got involved with you."

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, you are going to pick up your rings and walk out of my life forever. I don't want to see you here. I don't want to see you in my garage. If I do, I will go round to see Rob and tell him all about you. I'll also call Tony Brandon and let him know what damage his flirtatious girls are doing."

"But I have to call on you. It's my job and I need the money it brings in."

"How you do it is up to you, Kelly. I don't care. But turn up at my business again and I promise you that I will reveal all. Now I think you should go."

As we got to the door she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry, Greg." Then she pulled my head down and kissed me tenderly.

"Now that is where you start with lovemaking," I said as she left.

No one called from Brandon Auto Factors the following day and on Friday a nice young brunette called Tricia turned up to take our orders. Eric gave me an inquisitive look, but got nothing in return.

It was another week before I had the girls for the Sunday. When I got there Julie invited me in for coffee and a chat. I knew what she wanted to talk about, but we had to skirt around all the other things first. We talked about how the girls were doing at school, where she was taking them on holiday, etc. Then she got onto what she really wanted to know.

"And how are things going with your new girlfriend?" she asked.

"Oh, didn't Eric tell you? It's all over," I said in a matter of fact sort of way.

"Well, no, actually he didn't know," she said. "What happened?"

"You know, I'm surprised you two get any shopping done, the amount of time you spend talking about my private life."

"We care about you. Is that so wrong?" she asked.

"Yeah, well, it's best we don't go down that road or we'll both get upset again," I said, referring to the conversation a few weeks previous.

"Anyway, if you must know, it turned out that she was married." 

"Oh, that is awful, Greg. How did you find out?" 

I told her the whole story and she listened.

"And you just sat down and talked to her?" she asked.

"Yep. Cool as a cucumber, me. Never even raised my voice," I told her. "I phoned John the next day to tell him about it."

"You must have been hurt, though," she said.

"Of course I was. Hurt, angry. You name it, I was it." 

"And nothing happened? I mean, Eric said she hasn't been seen around the workshop," she said.

"Of course not. What did you think? That I'd done her in and buried her in the garden?" I asked. "Oh, what it is to have people trust you. I just told her I didn't ever want to see her again, and if I did I would blow the whistle on everything."

"I am sorry, it's just that, well, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Greg Maitland, violent man, knocks women about. I'll bet they were rubbing their hands in your office, thinking of all the money they would make defending or prosecuting me. How many times must I tell you, I'm not that man any more."

"Who is John, by the way?" she said, changing the subject. "You said you rang him and told him all about it."

"He is, or was, the psychologist who runs the program I went through. I was really pleased at how I handled it, so I rang him to tell him. I was just sort of reinforcing what a good job he had done."

"You actually went through some sort of program to..."

"Get my mind right," I interrupted. "Yes. You told me I needed help, and you were right, so I got some. How do you think I got the supervision order quashed so quickly?"

"Still," I said, "once a wrong un always a wrong un. Isn't that the way they look at it in your line of business?"

I called to the girls, swept them up one in each arm, and headed out to the car.

This was the way of things for the next couple of years. I had no further romances and the situation with Julie remained unchanged. I became convinced that someone in her office was getting at her, convincing her that I remained a threat to her. During holidays, especially Christmas and New Year, we would be on the verge of giving it another try, but after one day back at work all the barriers were back up and I was back to square one. 

To be continued......



People Can Change Ch. 03



From the day that I threw my wife naked into the street because of my mistaken belief that she had starred in a porn movie, my life started on a a downward trend. I got a criminal record for assaulting her and I was forced to review the situation at work so that the business paid. It had taken a few years but I had turned things around. It was now four years since my divorce or four years AD as I had taken to calling it and things were looking up.

Business-wise things were really on a roll. So much so that Clare was pressing me to talk to a tax expert to ensure I didn't pay more than I had to. I gave up my flat and bought a three bedroomed house so the girls could come and stay with me. Things took a new turn. I was collecting some brake pads and discs when Eric called, asking me to drop in to our tyre supplier to get a pair of Pirelli Cinturato P7s . I picked up the tyres and headed back to the workshop. When I got there I was somewhat surprised to find a silver Aston Martin DB5 parked outside. Eric came out for the tyres and saw me looking at the car.

"Straight out of James Bond, innit?" he said.

"This is a great car," I said.

"Yeah," he said, "pity the driver's such an arsehole."

"You're jealous," I said.

"Jealous of what?" he asked. "Him having this car or him being an arsehole?"

I have to admit to being a bit surprised at the way Eric was talking about our customer. He had always been a bit blunt, but I'd never known him be offensive about a customer before. I went into the office to start getting all my invoices ready for Clare. I heard the Aston roar into the workshop and Eric started work on changing the tyres. Eric had just brought in the invoice for the Aston's tyres when a car pulled into the car park. 

"Oh god, here comes the arsehole for the Aston," he said. 

"I must have a chat to him. It must be great to drive a car like that," I said.

"You don't want to talk to him, he's an arsehole," he said and walked out the door. 

I got up and walked to the door only to find it wouldn't open. Eric had locked the door. I watched him as he walked out into the car park. The guy got out of the passenger side of the car. He was about forty, five foot ten, slight of build with short blonde hair. He leaned back into the car and gave the driver a kiss. That was when I recognised her. The driver was Julie. I sat down with a thud and put my head in my hands. I knew it would happen sometime, but seeing her kissing another man in the car park of my own workshop was more than I could take. I just sat there, sobbing. It was half an hour before Eric opened the door. He passed me the receipt stub for the job.

"Sorry, guv," he said. "I was hoping you wouldn't be here when he came back."

"It's OK, Eric. It had to happen some day," I told him.

"No, it didn't," he said. "Not with an arsehole like him."

"Eric," I called out. "How long have we been charging five hundred pounds for a pair of Pirelli Cints?"

"Ever since the bastard that buys them comes in here boasting that I can take as long as I like because he intends to spend the time in bed with his girlfriend, and that girlfriend turns out to be my bosses ex-wife. I've always had great respect for your Julie. I thought she had better taste than that." 

"He thought I was you, and he was trying to rub your nose in it. So now it's cost him an extra hundred quid for gloating. I hope he thinks it was worth it."

When I went to pick up the girls the following weekend I never mentioned it to Julie. I did notice our wedding photo was missing. When I asked about it she just said she must have put it away when cleaning.

"If you don't want it any more, I'd like it," I said. "I could do with a few things to put around the house." 

"I see you've taken your rings off as well," I said.

She covered her left hand with her right. "Well, I haven't been married for four years, Greg."

"Oh, so it has nothing to do with Uncle Miles that the girls keep talking about?" I said.

Julie chose not to answer and instead rounded up the girls for me to take them out.

By this time we were entering our fifth year AD. It looked like I was losing Julie to the man Eric simply referred to as "The Arsehole". He and his wife had taken to doing their shopping on Thursday nights so they could avoid Julie. I decided I was going to cheer myself up. My birthday was coming up and I was going to buy myself a particularly extravagant present. On the day itself I went in to work as usual and found all the doors strewn with happy birthday banners. I got a couple of rude cards from Tom and Eric and a promise of a damn good piss up after work.

"It's not every day you turn 40," Eric said. "Me and the lads wanted to make it special." That evening we shut up shop dead on the dot of five thirty and set off for the pub. They had gone to a lot of trouble. The bar had my favourite Hobgoblin on draft as a "guest ale" and as the evening progressed even some of our regular customers and suppliers put in an appearance. I hadn't had such a good boy's night out since I left the service. Everything was going fine until about eight thirty when the police put in an appearance. One WPC (woman police constable) and a male officer entered the bar. The WPC walked into the middle of the bar and turned to address us.

Reading from her notebook, she said, "Do we have a Mr Greg Maitland in the bar?" 

My heart was in my mouth as I came forward. After all, there was no reason for the police to call me out unless something bad had happened.

"Are you the owner of a vehicle registered with the number FG02FXB?" she asked.

"I am," I said, still puzzled as to what was going on.

"Our records show you have no insurance on that vehicle, sir. I'm afraid I must impound the vehicle and issue a fixed penalty notice."

I was mystified, until Eric called out, "Ahh, you can't do that to him on his birthday."

The WPC stopped writing the ticket.

"Is it your birthday today?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "Forty today."

"Well, in that case I'm duty bound to tear up this ticket and dance for you."

She pointed at the other cop who produced a large boom box from behind him and pressed play. As the music filled the bar I realised that what looked like a normal police uniform was actually all held together with velcro. The blokes in the bar were all laughing and cheering as she danced in front of me, first removing her stab vest, then her blouse. Her hat she placed on my head as she continued to gyrate in front of me. Her black skirt was also fixed with velcro and she was able to just rip it off. The lads in the bar were calling out for her to "get your tits out". She turned around to face them and slipped one strap down her arm and pulled one cup down to show her breast. She pulled that one up again and did the same think to the other breast. She turned back to me and putting her hands behind her back released the Bra catch and let the garment fall to the floor revealing a perfect pair of breasts. She pulled my head up and placed it between her tits rubbing them against the side of my face. When she moved down to the panties they came down a little bit at a time. She was still wearing her black stockings and suspenders. The panties hit the floor and she bent over to pick them up pushing her arse into my face as she did so. She picked up the panties and spun them round on her extended finger as she high stepped around the bar, pulling me behind by my tie. Then the music changed and we got The Police (who else?) singing "Don't Stand So Close To Me". The boys in the bar were joining in with the chorus and every time it came on she would put an arm around my waist and pull me to her forcing her breasts into my chest and grinding her pubic mound against my straining dick. When the music stopped she picked up the small pile of clothes her colleague had placed on the table and skipped off to the ladies. She came out looking once more like a WPC. Coming over to me, she took her hat from my head. I felt her put something into my shirt pocket as she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and whisper.

"Call me," she said.

As she left Eric started calling for people to drink up. I looked at him a bit curious and he said, "This isn't over yet. We're all joining the ladies for a ruby." In cockney rhyming slang "Ruby Murray" means "curry".

We made our way out of the pub and across the street to The Star of India. Inside, the wives and girlfriends were already waiting for us. Each of the blokes paired up with their other halves and I suddenly felt acutely alone. Just as we were all finding our seats, Clare walked in. I was conscious of feeling shock. She looked amazing. Here she was, a woman in her mid fifties, and she didn't look a day over forty.

"Scrubs up well, don't she?" Eric said.

"Look, boss. I was going to ask Julie, but she's probably far too busy with Arsehole to come to something that really matters."

Clare reached across and touched my hand. "Isn't it good to be among people that love you?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said.

We all placed our orders, had a few more beers and the fun continued. I could hear Tom and Eric taking the piss out of Miles.

"The name's Jones," Tom said in his phoney posh accent. "Miles Penry-Jones. Now are you the boss around here?"

Clare reached out for my hand again. "He did try to get her here," she said. "He called several times, even left messages. Perhaps it's time to call it a day."

"You know what really hurts, Clare?" I said. "I didn't even get a card from her or the girls. It's my fortieth birthday and they can't even manage a card."

"You're in no fit state to go home tonight. You'd better come to mine," she said. "At least I have something for you."

I grinned at her. "It's not sex I need," I said.

"I wasn't talking about sex, but we can do that too, if you like."

The party broke up about eleven and Clare, who had drunk nothing stronger than orange juice, drove me back to her place. When we arrived she gave me an envelope and a parcel. The card was a humorous one, as I would have expected, but the parcel really surprised me. When I unwrapped it I found four vinyl albums - John Lee Hooker, Howlin Wolf, Elmore James and Sonny Boy Williamson. It must have taken her hours to find them. I welled up, not knowing what to say or do. She came to me and kissed me tenderly.

"Come on," she said. "Let's see if we can make this night even more memorable."

On the way into work we swung by my place for a change of clothes and for me to see if the post had brought any cards from the girls. It had not. 

No one turned up late for work the following day and they didn't even seem particularly hung over. Of course, I had to put up with the "old man" jokes. The first of these was to find a Zimmer frame in front of my desk where the chair should be. Having sorted through the mail and dealt with the important ones I went out into the workshop to find Tom.

"So, just who do I have to thank for last night's little shindig?" I asked.

"All Eric's idea," he said. "He thought we should mark it and we all agreed. Eric organised the lot. Got the discount on the bar and at the restaurant."

"Eric did it all?" I asked.

"That's right," he said. "Even organised the stripper, and by heck she was some girl wasn't she? I think she had the hots for you. She went well beyond the call of duty."

The following Sunday was my access time. On Saturday I took delivery of the birthday present I had bought my self. Julie seemed a little preoccupied, but Annabel was on top form. She and Grace ran out to meet me.

"Whose car is this daddy?" she asked.

"It's mine," I said, as I walked them to the door.

"Mum, have you seen dad's new car?" Annabel asked Julie.

Julie looked out to see my bright red Morgan four seater outside.

"What brought that on?" she asked.

"Well, I could afford it, so I bought myself a little birthday present. It's one year old - I didn't want to wait four years for a new one."

"Birthday present?" she said. "But it's not your birthday until..."

"Last Wednesday," I said.

Annabel flew at Julie. "I told you," she screamed. "I told you we had to go shopping for daddy's birthday, but you insisted we go out with Miles. I hate him. You never have time for us when he's around. And now we've missed daddy's birthday. I hate him, and I hate you too."

Annabel held on to me, and I put my arm around her. Julie's eyes started to fill after Annabel's outburst. 

"She doesn't mean it," I said. "She's just upset at having missed her daddy's birthday." 

Julie began to look really embarrassed.

"At least it wasn't a big one," she said. "I could never forget a big one."

"No, you're right," I said. "I turned forty this week, which you would have known if you had picked up any of Eric's messages. He was trying to get hold of you all last weekend."

"I'm so sorry, Greg." Now the tears really were flowing. "I swear, I didn't get any messages."

"I know Eric," I said. "If he says he left messages on your phone, then messages were left. If you didn't get them then you need to look at who's deleting your messages. I wonder, could Miles have been staying here last weekend?"

"Come on, girls," I said. "It's a nice day. We can ride with the top down and have lunch at the pub by the river. Then we can feed the ducks."

As we walked towards the door Annabel turned back to look at Julie.

"I still hate you," she said, "but I hate him more."

Another flood of tears came to Julie's eyes and we left her sobbing.

We arrived at the pub and I lifted Grace out of the back seat.

"Daddy, I like your car better then uncle Miles' because you can fold the top down and it's easier to get out of."

I smiled at her and said, "Well, I don't think you should tell uncle Miles that because he thinks his car is pretty cool."

"I'll tell him," snorted Annabel.

We had a great day at the river. After feeding the ducks I took them out in a boat, then we watched the boats going through the lock as we ate our ice creams. By the time we roared back into Julie's drive Grace was already falling asleep in the back seat. 

Annabel stormed into the house, completely ignored her mother, and went straight to her room. I set Grace down on the sofa.

"She doesn't mean it," I said. "She will never hate you - you're her mum. She's just a little upset right now. She thinks you're putting Miles in front of everyone and everything, and it's hard for her to adjust to that."

"She thinks I hurt you and I did, didn't I?"

"Yes, I can't deny having my fortieth birthday ignored, by the only family I have, hurt me. Having no card from the girls hurt most. I can take it from you, it's sort of par for the course. Every time you reject me it hurts, but I deserve that because I hurt you really badly. I just never expected you to use my girls against me."

"I didn't mean to," she cried. "I would never do that on purpose."

.

"No, but HE would," I said. "One day, when this is all over, I'll tell you why Eric refers to him as the arsehole."

"Anyway," I said, "please pass on my thanks to him for part financing my birthday party. The party you were invited to, but arsehole deleted the messages."

"Eric was so disgusted by his behaviour at the workshop that he put an extra hundred on his bill. So tell Mr Miles Penry-Jones thank you very much. I haven't had such a good night out since I left the marines."

I left her crying on the sofa. Yes, I felt sorry for her, but this problem was not of my making and she refused to see how Miles was manipulating the situation to try to drive us further apart. I went home with a heavy heart. I took no pleasure in Julie's predicament with the girls. The fact it would make Miles attempts to get into her panties that much more difficult was a boost, but he obviously had her wrapped around his finger. Suddenly I could see the chances of reconciliation disappearing fast.

The following Thursday I received a small package at work. On opening it I found a pilot's chronometer. The watch was engraved on the back. "To Greg on his 40th Birthday from Julie, Annabel and Grace." I rang Julie at work.

She was quite buoyed up by the call.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Who chose it?" I responded.

"I did," she said. "I can assure you Miles had nothing to do with it." This told me he had probably suggested it.

"If you hadn't had it engraved, making it non-returnable, I would have sent it back to you," I said.

"Oh, so you don't like it," she said, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"You still don't get it, do you, Julie? What the girls and I wanted was for them to be able to pick out a present for their daddy's birthday. What they wanted from you was to take them shopping so they could pick something. No one, including me, wanted you to wade in with your cheque book to provide some expensive gift. I don't know what is happening to you, Julie. You used to understand that people are more important than money. Yet this gift seems to say you think you can buy your way out of anything. I'm going to call the jeweller and if he says the engraving can be polished out then I'll return it to you."

Julie was very quiet at the other end of the phone. "Oh well, I tried to put things right," she said.

"No, you didn't, Julie. You tried to make yourself feel better by spending money. I'm over it, I don't need this. If you want to put things right, ask the girls what they want to do, then go with them while they do it. This may surprise you, but seeing Annabel so upset was just as bad for me as it was for you."

"Don't preach to me, Greg. You're in no position to do that." She was getting angry now, which seemed to indicate she knew I was right. "I have a right to a life of my own you know."

"Yes, Julie, you do have a right to a life of your own. If your responsibility for the children is getting in the way of that, then you might like to consider letting me take over that responsibility."

She hung up the phone.

"Well," I thought to myself, "that didn't go too well, did it?"

Julie hardly spoke to me the next time I picked up the girls. I put the small box on the kitchen worktop. 

"You'll just have to pay for a new back to be put on," I told her.

"You couldn't just accept that I was sorry and was making a gesture could you?" she said.

"I don't call a four hundred pound wrist watch a gesture," I said. "Now can we just forget it and move on."

Once again I left with Annabel looking daggers at her mother.

Relations during this period were particularly frosty, so it came as a surprise when I received a phone call from Julie suggesting we meet for dinner. She suggested "Gino's" a little Italian restaurant in town and we made a date for the following Friday.

Many thoughts went through my head as I waited for Friday to arrive. Since our divorce Julie had shown little interest in going out on a date with me. I thought the most likely scenario was that Miles had dumped her and she wanted some comfort. I was not about to blow my chances. I put on a suit with a tie. I had my haircut and I shaved again before leaving the house.

Seeing Julie really took my breath away. She wore a low cut little black dress with a hem line which stopped mid thigh. It certainly showed her curves off to her best advantage. She had obviously had her hair done. As she walked through the restaurant on her four inch stilettos the eyes of every man in the room were on her. I got up and welcomed her.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," I said.

"Thank you," she said. "You're no too shabby yourself."

We sat, ordered, and chatted our way through three courses. We talked about the girls, my business and virtually anything but us. By the time we were waiting for the coffee I decided to hurry things along. I reached out and took both of her hands in mine. 




People Can Change Ch. 03



"You don't know how much I've been looking forward to tonight," I said. "You must know that I've been trying to get you to give me a second chance for the last four years."

She pulled both of her hands away.

"Greg, I'm sorry. I didn't ask you here to discuss getting back together," she said. "Quite the reverse, in fact. I'm sorry if you got that impression."

"OK," I said. "So why did you ask me to come here?"

"I'm getting married, Greg," she said. "I'm marrying Miles as soon as his divorce comes through."

"So, what do you want from me?" I asked. "You don't need my permission to get married, or are you going to ask me to give you away?"

"No, of course not," she said. "The thing is, there is something you can help me with. You see, Miles' family want the girls to carry his name."

"Now, let's get this straight," I said. "You got me here to ask me to agree to that arsehole adopting my children. How long have you known this guy?"

"His name is Miles," she said rather pointedly. "He's a barrister, and he handles a lot of cases for our practice. I have known him for about six years."

Suddenly many things became clear. Whenever it looked like we were making progress in our relationship, she would return to work and suddenly everything went back square one. Now I find that everyday she was being advised by a man who was just trying to get in her knickers.

"So, the poison pusher at work is revealed," I said.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"I mean that despite all I've done to prove I've changed, it became obvious there was someone at work convincing you I couldn't be trusted. Now I know he had a vested interest. He was trying to get in your pants."

"You have to reduce everything to the basest levels, don't you?" she said, obviously annoyed I had made the connection.

"But he has been persuading you not to give me a second chance, hasn't he?" I said.

"I grant you Miles did advise me during the divorce and things, but calling him a poison pusher is carrying things a bit too far."

"Right, let's get back to what you want from me?" I said. "You want me to hand over my girls to a man they can't stand and who has spent the last five years trying to ensure their mother and father continue to live apart. Is that what you're asking me to do?"

"You're making this much harder than it need be," she said. "All I'm asking you to do is sign the papers which will allow Miles to take on parental responsibility for Annabel and Grace. I thought you would jump at the chance, since it would mean an end to paying three hundred pounds a week to the CSA."

For a moment I felt the anger flow through me, but it was soon under control.

"Julie," I said calmly and quietly, "I know I've changed, but I can't remember ever being the sort of man who would sell his own children."

"Now you're twisting my words," she said. "I never suggested you sell the girls."

"Give up parental rights in return for three hundred pound a week. It sure sounds like selling them to me."

"Well, you know I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to point out the advantages to you," she said.

"To tell you the truth, the Julie I knew wouldn't have dreamed of asking me to do this. She knows how much my daughters mean to me. Now, you want to talk about advantages, tell me about the advantage to the girls of this move."

She sat there, speechless. I could see her racking her brain to think of an advantage.

"So," I continued, "now we know there is no advantage for the girls, try telling me why I should do something which benefits no one but you and Miles."

She sat thinking for a while. "Perhaps I should have laid my cards on the table from the beginning," she said. "Miles really wants to marry me, but he can't give me children and his family are desperate to continue the family name. They will disown him if he marries me without the children taking his name."

This was total bollocks, and I knew it. None of it made sense. The question was, is she bullshitting me or has he been bullshitting her? I racked my brain to find a reason why Miles would want to bring up another man's children, one of whom hated him. If I had been a difficult father I could understand it, but I had never denied Julie the chance to do anything with the girls, and she knew I never would. Having come up with no advantage for Miles in adopting the girls, I started asking myself why he expected me to agree to it. That's when it hit me. He expected me to refuse, so he could continue shafting her and blame me for him being unable to marry her. From what I knew of Miles, this seemed to fit all too well.

"The first thing I have to say is that I don't think much of a man who puts his inheritance before getting married to the woman he's supposed to love," I said. "The other thing is that I would want my access to remain as it is now, and I would want a legally binding document to guarantee that."

She looked at me surprised. "You mean, you would do it?" she asked.

"I mean I'll do it on my terms," I said. "Those terms are that I want the document I've already mentioned. I'll also not sign anything until you're actually married. I'm not giving him any control over my girls unless you're there to protect them."

Julie was so excited she failed to see the Aston Martin pull up outside. Miles was halfway across the restaurant before she even noticed. 

"Hi Babe," he said. "Are we all done here?"

He looked down at Julie and mistook her tears of joy for tears of sorrow.

"Oh, come on babe. I told you he wouldn't go for it. When has he ever shown any interest in your happiness?" Miles asked.

"I think you misunderstand," I said. "I have agreed, but with some conditions of my own."

I outlined the details of the contract I wanted from them.

"But, that means nothing really changes," he said.

"It means you get what you say you want. The girls can bear your family name, but without me losing my rights of access."

"No, no, that is not acceptable," he said.

Then I told him I wouldn't sign until they were actually married.

"But that means we have to trust you. You could back out and we would still be married," he said.

"Miles, old chap, you're making it sound like you don't really want to marry this lovely lady," I said, pointing to Julie.

"Not too lovely right now," Julie said, looking at her face in her make up mirror. "I'm going to the ladies."

She got up and made her way to the rest room to touch up her make up.

Miles continued to try and bait me. It ranged from selling my children to only being prepared to fight women. Nothing got the violent reaction he so obviously wanted. As Julie came out of the ladies room I stood up and took his right hand in mine, in a handshake motion. My time in the Royal Marines and several years fitting tyres had given me one hell of a grip in my right hand. As I proceeded to crush his right hand in mine I leaned forward to slap him on the back. As I did so I spoke into his ear.

"If you EVER hurt her or my children, I will break your fucking neck. That is one promise you can take to the bank," I said.

I knew my message had struck home by the way the colour drained from his face. I made to leave and Julie came up to me and kissed me on the lips.

"Thank you, Greg," she said. "I can see now, you really have changed. Thank you."

It was Saturday morning of the following week that I got the phone call from Annabel.

"Daddy," she said, "come quickly. Mummy's not well. I can't wake her up."

I left Eric in charge and jumped in the Morgan and, for the first time, drove it the way it was meant to be driven. Within five minutes I was ringing Julie's doorbell. Annabel let me in and I ran straight to the master bedroom. Julie was lying in bed, motionless. I checked she was still breathing before slapping her face to try to bring her round. I looked around the room. On the bedside table I saw a half empty vodka bottle, a glass and a packet of Tamazepam tablets. I checked the packet and found about half of them missing. I put the pills in my pocket then gathered Julie up in my arms. I told Annabel to bring Grace and that we were taking mummy to the hospital.

I carried Julie out to the car and placed her in the front passenger seat. Annabel came running out of the house with Grace and they clambered into the back seat. I set off for the hospital at some speed. I'd travelled just over a mile when I saw the flashing blue lights in my mirror. I pulled to the side of the road and the police car stopped in front of me. When one officer got out and came back to my car I thought I recognised him. He stepped up to the driver's door and a big smile spread across his face.

"Sergeant Maitland," he said. "You remember me - Corporal John Blackman. We served together in Afghanistan."

"John, I know I was speeding and you have to give me a ticket, but can it wait until I've got this lady to the hospital?"

PC Blackman looked over at Julie then back at me. 

"Follow us, sarge, close as you like," he said. 

As he went back to his car he yelled out to the driver, "Nicola, blues and twos to the hospital." 

The police car pulled out into the traffic with blue lights flashing and sirens wailing. I tucked in behind and we raced through the streets to the hospital. Once we arrived I scooped up Julie once more and carried her into the Accident and Emergency department. I told a nurse it was an accidental overdose and gave her the packet of pills. I was shown into the relatives room with the girls. We hadn't been waiting there more than a couple of minutes when PC John Blackman and his partner WPC Nicola Bates came in.

Corporal John (Chalky) Blackman was a salt of the earth type character, six feet tall and built like a brick shit house. If you needed someone to watch your back then you wanted it to be Chalky. He and I had served in Iraq and Afghanistan together and we had the kind of mutual respect that is only developed between men living together in the shadow of death. His partner was only five foot four and looked to be much slighter in build. It's difficult to observe a woman's figure when she's wearing a stab vest, but my guess would be she was not flat chested, and despite the uniform trousers I did observe a nice round bum. Her face was very attractive with blue eyes, dark hair and full lips. If I had to share a car with anyone all day, every day, I wouldn't mind it being her.

"So, who is the lady then, sarge?" asked PC Blackman.

"Please, drop the sarge bit, John. All that was a long time ago. It's just Greg these days," I told him. "The lady is Julie Maitland, my ex-wife."

"Is that the same lady you assaulted some years back?" asked WPC Bates. For the first time I noticed she had her notebook out and was taking everything down.

"Yes it is, but this has nothing to do with me. God, what do I have to do to escape that?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Maitland, but it came up on the computer when I entered your registration number. I would be failing in my duty if I didn't get curious when a man convicted of beating up his wife is driving around with an unconscious woman in his car."

"I didn't beat her up, as you put it," I said. "I threw her out rather too forcefully and it's something I've regretted ever since."

"So, can you tell us what happened this time?" she asked.

To my surprise, little Annabel sprang to her daddy's defence. "I called Daddy because Mummy wouldn't wake up," she said.

"Yeah," I said "when I got there I couldn't wake her either and there was a packet of Tamazepam and a half drunk bottle of Vodka on the bedside table."

"And you didn't think to call an ambulance?" asked the WPC.

"Well, of course I thought about it," I answered. "I just thought I could get her here quicker, and thanks to you I did."

"Sorry, Greg. She had to ask you know," said John Blackman.

WPC Bates put her notebook away. "I think that's the business taken care of. Now," she said to Annabel, "tell me about your daddy."

"Come on," said John Blackman. "We have to get back to work." 

Then he looked at me. "We're off shift in an hour," he said. "I'll pop back and see how things are going."

With that they were gone, leaving me to try and convince Grace and Annabel their mother would be all right.

It was half an hour before anyone came to tell us anything about Julie. Even then, it was only to tell us she was responding to treatment. Within the hour I was allowed to see her and a nurse stayed with the children.

Julie certainly did not look like the beauty I married at that moment. Her hair was wet and matted with traces of vomit. She had a saline drip in her arm and looked like she was suffering the hangover from hell. She apologised for ruining my weekend and for frightening the girls. What she didn't do was tell me why. In the end I had to ask her what she thought she was doing. 

"I was just trying to shut it all out," she said. "I wanted to sleep, to stop thinking about it all."

"Thinking about what?" I asked. "What could be so bad that it takes half a bottle of vodka and any number of pills to shut out."

"I've been such a fool, Greg," she said. "He didn't want to marry me. He just wanted to keep on fucking me. He used me like a cheap whore." 

She broke down in tears and I was asked to leave her for a while. When I got back to the relatives room I was surprised to find not only John Blackman but also Nicola Bates sitting chatting with Grace and Annabel. Without the uniform Nicola Bates was outstanding. Her jeans were tight enough to show the contours of her bum and without the stab vest I could see she was very shapely. Her long chestnut hair was now down and framed her face beautifully. 

The girls cheered when I told them Julie was going to be all right and we just had to wait until the doctors thought it would be safe for her to go home. I chatted to both John and Nicola about what had happened and why.

"You do realise you could use this as evidence that she's unstable, if you wanted to contest custody," Nicola told me.

"But I don't want to do that," I said. "The girls need stability and before Arsehole came on the scene she always put the children first. I think she needs my support right now and I intend to give it."

"You know, down at the station they paint you as an evil bastard who got off lightly," she said. "Then there's John, who says you're the best bloke he ever served with and that something serious must have happened to make you behave like that."

"And which camp are you in?" I asked.

"I don't know yet," she said, "but everything I've seen today says that John got it right."

John stayed for about half an hour and we exchanged phone numbers and promised to get together for a drink. Nicola said she would stay with the girls while I went in to see Julie again. John gave me a nudge and told me his mates at the station would give their right arms to get to first base with Nicola.

When I went back to see Julie she was looking a lot better and was more able to talk to me. I also managed a chat with the doctor who told me they wanted to monitor her for another hour and as long as there was someone to keep an eye on her they would let her go home. Julie pointed out that I had brought her in wearing only a nightie and she would need clothes to go home. I agreed to collect her clothes and some make up. 

The girls were overjoyed to hear mummy was coming home and I told them they would have to help me choose what she was going to wear. Nicola seemed quite happy, too. She asked if I could give her a lift home and I willingly agreed. I told myself it was the least I could do after she sat with the girls for me. The truth was, the longer I spent in her company the better I liked it. The drive to Nicola's flat was all too short. I pulled up outside and she got out and looked back at me.

"Nice car," she said. "I'd like to drive it some time."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," I replied.

She said her goodbyes to the girls then turned and held her hand out to me. I reached to take her hand and found a small piece of paper being held in her fingers. I clasped her hand as I took the paper. I've heard it called electricity or chemistry. I don't know what to call it, but something more than a piece of paper passed between us in that moment.

"Call me," she said. "Please."

I waited for her to walk away. Written on the paper were both her land line and mobile phone number.

Together with the girls, I selected one of Julie's business outfits, some underwear and a pair of shoes. Not having a clue what make up she needed I just picked up her handbag and took that. Back at the hospital I gave Julie the clothes and had a chat with the doctor. He wanted my assurance there would be someone with her for the next twenty four hours. I assured him I would be there. Everyone was happy to see Julie coming home and once home she relaxed and played with the girls while I prepared the lunch. I really wanted to know what had happened, but I didn't want anything to upset the girls so I was prepared to wait.

Once I had put the girls to bed I sat down on the sofa and Julie brought me a glass of wine. She snuggled up next to me with her legs tucked under her the way women do. I waited for her to reveal what had happened.

"Oh, Greg, I've been such a fool. I allowed myself to be used by a man who couldn't even tell me he didn't want to marry me," she said. "You were supposed to oppose the adoption idea so he could blame you."

"You said he couldn't tell you, so how did you find out?" I asked.

"His wife came to see me yesterday," she said. "She was really horrible to me. She told me he had never petitioned for divorce and that he never would. Apparently her family are very big in the judiciary and the chances of him ever becoming a judge would be minimal if he ever divorced her. I couldn't believe it. She said she knew he had plenty of affairs, but I was the first who wasn't married."

"So, she knows all about his affairs and just turns a blind eye," I said.

"Apparently it was because I started telling people we were going to be married that she felt she had to put a stop to it."

By now she was crying on my shoulder. 

"What am I going to do?" she sobbed. "Our firm does so much business with his chambers that I see him almost every day. I don't think I can face that."

"What you're going to do right now is find me a duvet and a pillow so I can sleep on the sofa," I told her. "Then you're going to bed. Everything will seem much better in the morning."

The next morning I was up with the lark and all three girls woke up to the smell of bacon frying. Annabel and Grace thought it was a real treat having Daddy cooking breakfast and even Julie was so pleased to see me she greeted me with a good morning kiss. 

Overnight I had worked out a plan, so during breakfast I asked the girls the all important question.

"How would you like to go to Spain, or Portugal, or Morocco, or all three?"

Both Grace and Annabel yelled "Yes" at the tops of their voices and were bouncing up and down in their seats.

"You shouldn't do things like that," Julie said to me. "You know we can't just take off like that. I would have to book my holidays at work and we would never get fixed up at such short notice."

"Relax," I said. "I've got it all figured out. First thing tomorrow you go to see the doctor and tell him what happened, including your little accident. He'll sign you off work for at least two weeks. If you want, you can call work and tell them you're signed off but are happy to take it as annual holiday. Now, I'm booked on a ten day Mediterranean cruise, leaving on Tuesday. It's a four berth cabin and should be a piece of cake to change the booking."

"I don't believe you, Greg Maitland," Julie said angrily. "Here I am, in a vulnerable state, and at the first opportunity you're trying to get me to share a cabin with you. Huh, you might just as well have jumped into bed with me last night."




People Can Change Ch. 03



"Will you never let me finish, woman?" I said laughingly. "I have some urgent business to attend to, so I can't go. You would be doing me a favour by taking the booking."

Julie threw her arms around my neck and hugged and kissed me. The two girls joined in for good measure. I stayed with them all day. Julie cooked a roast lunch and I was blown out all afternoon.

That evening I went home and the first thing I did was to fish out the paper with Nicola's number. There was no answer on the land line, so I tried her mobile. She sounded pleased to hear from me, but didn't seem to want to say much. However, when she told me she was at her parents home I understood. When I asked if she'd like to come out for a drink on Monday night she sounded disappointed.

"Tomorrow," she said. "So who are you taking out tonight?"

"No one," I said. "I just thought it was a bit late to ask for tonight."

"Do you know the Rose and Crown on Thorpe Road?" she asked.

I said I did.

"Good. I can be there in half an hour. I'll see you there."

Never before had I experienced such a forceful woman. She obviously knew what she wanted and was going to make sure she got it. I got to the pub with ten minutes to spare, so I found a quiet table and sat down with my St Clements to wait for her. When she opened the door my mouth fell open. She was absolutely gorgeous. It was the first time I'd seen her in a dress and it showed off her legs a treat. When I escorted her to the table I was the envy of every man in the pub. As she kissed me on the cheek a strange feeling shot through my head, a bit like you get when the plane you're in is descending. We sat and she asked me about the girls and then about Julie and I told her of the plan.

"And is there any urgent business?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," I replied, "but if the truth be told, it would probably have waited till I got back."

"Well, I'm glad you're not going," she said.

This gave me a lift, but when I looked into her eyes I could see there was something troubling her.

"OK," I said," lets have it. What's the problem?"

She looked deep into my eyes.

"Greg, you must have realised by now that I'm very attracted to you, but there is something I have to know."

"You want to know about what I did to Julie," I said, as my mood suddenly sank.

"I've seen you with your girls and with Julie and everything tells me you're a good man, but I've also talked to the boys who handled your case, and they think you're the worst kind of bully, a clever one. It's like two different people and I need to know which one is real."

It gives you a sinking feeling when you're forced to re-live something you have been trying for years to forget, but I knew if I wanted this relationship to go anywhere I was going to have to tell the whole sorry tale. At that moment I wanted my evening with Nicola to go on for ever, so I started at the beginning. I told her all about the video on the porn site and how convinced I was that it was Julie. I told her how much I'd hated her for betraying me. Then I told her about the revelation of a twin sister I knew nothing about. I told her about the court case, how Julie had spoken up for me; and how she had told me I needed help. Then I told her about John's clinic down in Aldershot and the year I spent regularly visiting there until John had told me I didn't need to go any more. I was on a roll now. My eyes were wet with tears, so I continued and told her about Kelly and how I had discovered she was married and the way I had dealt with that. By the time I got to Miles goading me in the restaurant she was in danger of her mascara running.

"So you see," I said. "When you ask which one is the real Greg Maitland? The answer is they both are, but that was then and this is now. This Greg Maitland would never react the way the old one did because he has learned to divorce anger from hatred. I only wish he had learned it before all that happened."

She reached over the table and took my hand in both of hers. Then she got up, kissed me on the forehead and walked away from the table. At that moment I thought that would be the last I ever saw of her. I turned, hoping to catch a final glimpse before she left, but she wasn't headed for the door. She was going towards the ladies rest room. Five minutes later she was standing beside me.

"I don't know about you, but I could do with another drink," she said as she picked up our glasses and headed to the bar.

When she returned it was obvious she had decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. The subject matter of our conversation got much lighter and before I knew it the landlord was asking us to leave so he could close up for the night. Nicola had arrived in a taxi so I drove her home in the Morgan. We arrived outside her place and just sat in the car, neither of us really wanting the night to end. I asked if I could see her again. When she said yes I was delighted and said I would pick her up the following night. We kissed before she left me and I realised what it was I had been missing for the last five years.

On Tuesday I drove Julie and the girls down to Falmouth to board the ship and was not expecting to be back in time for a date with Nicola. Both of us were reluctant to accept a day without seeing each other. We were behaving like a pair of love struck teenagers who couldn't stand to be apart. 

The trip down to Falmouth was uneventful, in spite of the excitement level. Annabel had found out there were internet facilities on board and promised me an email every day to let me know what was happening. As they were checking in Julie turned and hugged me.

"I still can't believe we're doing this," she said. "Thank you."

They made their way up the gang plank and disappeared inside the ship. I waited around to see if they appeared at the stern to wave goodbye and sure enough, as the ship cast off, they all came out. As the ship left the harbour I made my way back to the car and set off for home. 

During the time they were away I saw Nicola almost every night. It was Friday night when Nicola finally got tired of waiting. For my part, I treasured what we had so much, I was nervous about pushing things too fast, but that Friday Nicola invited me to her place. After dinner she led me to the bedroom. Five years is a long time to go without the sort of love we made in that room on that Friday night. We slept, woke up and made love again. I feasted on her body which turned out to be every bit as beautiful as I had expected. Her wonderful round bum proved to be very receptive to being stroked and massaged and my fingers on her back brought her mouth crashing down on mine with her hips grinding against me. We fell asleep in each other's arms. I woke to find my dick being prepared for action by Nicola's gorgeous mouth. After another session of lovemaking we showered and went to work. Eric was all smiles and winks when I turned up late for the first time since my divorce.

Annabel's emails were a joy to read. They were really enjoying their cruise. By the end of the first week they had dined with the Captain twice. Annabel thought he must fancy Julie. Nicola was always interested to hear about Annabel's emails.

Nicola's shifts made life difficult for us in the second week. She was working evenings, meaning the only time we saw each other was for lunch. I really missed her, but it did give me some time to work on the business plan for the bank. Another dealership had gone to the wall in the neighbouring town of Bishop Stanton and if I could get the premises for a good price I could expand the business into another town. I also took the opportunity to go and see Clare. I told her about Nicola and that our times of comforting each other were probably over. She actually seemed happy about it.

"I can't say I'm not going to miss it," she said, "but you're a good man and you deserve to be happy. I'm really glad you've found someone."

My interview with the business adviser at the bank went well. I now had such a good track record they were happy to finance a second branch. I put my bid in to the receivers and waited for their response. I also had something to sort out in London, so Thursday was devoted to a trip to there. 

I took Saturday off to go down to Falmouth and pick up Julie and the girls. The ship docked at two pm and by three we were on our way home. Grace was telling me all about seeing mice drinking port in the Bodega and Annabel was full of seeing dolphins swimming close to the ship. 

"And what about you?" I asked Julie. " I gather you were a big hit with the Captain."

"I really don't know what you mean," she said. "I can honestly say the only man who occupied my mind was the one who gave up his holiday for us." She grabbed my arm, pulled me close, and put her head on my shoulder. 

I got them home around ten, helped Julie put the girls to bed, and brought the luggage in. Julie poured us both a glass of wine.

"So, how are you feeling now?" I asked.

"Fine," she said. "We all had a wonderful time and we all agreed the only thing that could have made it better was if you could have been with us."

This last comment took me by surprise. There had been a number of occasions when I'd thought we were getting close, but this was the first time in five years she'd said she wanted to be with me. She offered me another glass of wine, which I turned down as I had to drive home.

"You don't have to go," she said. "You could stay here tonight."

"No," I said. "I think I would sleep a lot better in my bed than on your sofa."

"It doesn't have to be the sofa," she said.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, do you?" I said. "I think you need to be sure of your feelings before we start anything like that."

I could see the look of disappointment on her face as she kissed me goodbye. I agreed I would go back on Monday evening to see how she felt after her first day back at work. I was very glad I decided to go home. Not long after I got there Nicola turned up on my doorstep looking very fragile. She threw her arms around me and buried her head in my chest. As I took her into the house I realised she was crying. We sat down and I just hugged her until she started to talk to me. It turned out she and John Blackman had been pursuing a stolen vehicle when it crashed into another car coming the other way. The occupants of the oncoming car, a young family, were all killed.

"Would you like to stay here tonight?" I asked. 

She nodded and I led the way upstairs to bed. I held her until she fell asleep. In the morning she felt much better, good enough for us to spend the whole morning in bed. Breakfast was amazing. I had her lips and nipples for starter and her pussy for the main course. She feasted on my dick and my mouth. We got up in time for lunch and I took her to the pub by the river. I realised her shifts were getting in the way of our relationship. What the previous night had shown me was that I wanted her to be able to call on me any time she needed me. During lunch I gave her a key to my house with the instruction to come over whenever she wanted. I was hoping she would come over at the end of her shifts so at least we could spend the nights together. My plan worked out well. That night, as I was about to turn in, I heard her key in my door. Before I left for work I told Nicola I was going to see Julie that night. She gave me a look that said she was not entirely happy about it but just accepted it.

"Before I leave," I said, "there's something I'd like your help with."

I held up the third finger on my left hand.

"I've been trying to get this ring off for five years," I said. "I don't suppose you could help me get it off?"

"With pleasure, sir," she said, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me.

With the help of some olive oil and a pair of latex gloves, she had the ring off my finger in less than ten minutes. Now I was truly a free man. 

When Julie arrived home she was looking a little stunned. I asked how her day had gone and she said it had been fine. I asked if she had seen Miles and that's when I understood her stunned appearance.

"That's the strangest thing," she said. "I heard some of the girls in the office talking and they said he was dead. Some sort of car accident."

"How do you feel about that?" I asked.

"I don't know, really," she said. "I mean, I did really care for him, and in spite of what he did to me I never wished him dead. I'm not really sure he is dead, but right now I don't know how I would feel if he is."

"Well, I hope he's dead," said Annabel.

"Annabel," Julie said. "You shouldn't wish people harm."

That evening we sat and ate as a family. It was very pleasant and Julie seemed to be making a special effort to make me feel welcome. She asked me if I managed to get my business done and I told her I now had another branch of "Drive-In Auto services". She queried the name and I told her it was more appealing than "J&G Auto services".

"Yes, but J&G stood for Julie and Greg. Aren't you sad to see it go?" she asked.

"Not really," I said. "You made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with the company when you swapped your share for my half the house. At the time, my share of the house was worth a lot more than half the company. Still, I couldn't afford my share of the mortgage at the time, so it was a good short term deal for me."

"Well, I'm sad about it," she said. "It's like one more connection between us has been broken"

At the end of the evening I went home, even though Julie appeared to want me to stay.

The inquest for Miles was held at the Slough coroner's court. Julie wanted to go and had asked me to accompany her. From the start the verdict seemed to be a foregone conclusion. The police were convinced it was an accident. All their evidence pointed to Miles falling asleep at the wheel and not making the bend. The sergeant said there were no skid marks to indicate he had tried to brake, and where the car had hit the tree all the indications were that the car was coasting when it hit. The coroner asked if he thought suicide was a possibility. The sergeant said , in that case, he would expect the vehicle to be accelerating right up to the point of impact. However, all the evidence at the scene indicated this was not the case. When the grieving widow was called she painted a picture of a devoted family man. Julie was seething as she heard Miles' wife paint him as an ideal husband with absolutely no reason to take his own life. 

The only dissenting voice came from the pathologist. He pointed out that the cause of death was a broken neck, caused by the head moving suddenly and quickly forward while the body was held back by the seat belt. He told the coroner that in a modern car with air bags it would not have happened. When the coroner asked if there was any evidence to contradict the police view of Miles falling asleep at the wheel, he came up with some interesting facts. He would have expected to find bruising from the seat belt on the right shoulder, but there was none. He also commented on there being post mortem trauma to the left shoulder. However, when asked if any of this ruled out the theory of falling asleep at the wheel he said he couldn't rule it out and that the level of alcohol in the blood made falling asleep more likely.

A recess was called to consider the verdict and I took the opportunity to speak to the grieving widow. Julie was interested in what I had to say to her.

"I asked her if she was open to offers on the wreck," I said. "She said I was being insensitive, but she still took my card."

"What do you want with the wreck?" she asked.

"I thought I would restore it," I told her.

"You will not," she said. "I never want to see that car in my driveway ever again."

"Ooh, Julie, are you inviting me to put my car in your driveway?" I asked.

Recognising the innuendo, she slapped me on the arm.

"I might be," she said, and we both laughed.

The court reconvened and the coroner recorded a verdict of accidental death. Julie needed to go to the ladies room and I waited for her in the corridor outside the court. As I waited the grieving widow came up to me.

"Mr Maitland, you expressed an interest in buying Miles' car. Perhaps we could discuss it. Over dinner maybe." 

"My God," I thought. "Her old man isn't buried yet and she's already looking for action."

"Sorry," I said. "I've changed my mind, I don't need the car now."

"Now that is a pity," she said. "Still, there's no reason why we shouldn't still have dinner."

At that moment Julie arrived. The widow's face changed as she recognised Julie.

"Mrs Penry-Jones, this is my ex-wife, Julie Maidment. I believe you two have already met," I said.

"Yes," said Mrs Penry-Jones, "but I know her as Julie Baker."

"I've always used my maiden name at work," Julie said.

This was another surprise for me.

"Tell me, Mrs Penry-Jones, does it take much practice to lie through your teeth like you just did in there?" Julie had her claws out now.

"All that stuff about being a devoted husband, when you know he hardly comes home and has been fucking me for the last year."

"It becomes much easier, darling, when half a million pounds is at stake," said the widow. "Not that I think there was ever a chance of it, but if suicide had been suspected the insurance company would halve the settlement. We both know the only person he ever really loved was Miles. To be honest I always expected to find he had been murdered by some jealous husband."

With that she handed me her card. "Think about my offer, Mr Maitland. I'm sure it would be worth your while."

As she walked away Julie was fuming. "She gets a million pounds and she didn't care about him one way or the other. He took six years of my life and I get nothing," she said. 

There it was again, that mercenary streak. When did she become so obsessed with money, or had she always been so and I hadn't noticed? Then there was the other thing. SIX years she had said, but we had only been divorced for five. There were things that didn't quite add up.

I drove her back to her work in London and we had a light lunch in a wine bar, just around the corner from her office. While we were there one of her colleagues, Allison, came in and Julie invited her to join us. The two chatted about work and the inquest until Julie decided she had to go into work. Allison was still finishing her lunch and remained with me. Just as I was about to leave she reached across and put her hand on mine.

"I'd just like to say I think it's wonderful how you still support her," she said. "After her affairs with Miles and all."

"That was all after we divorced," I said, "so it was none of my business."

"Oh, yes, of course," Allison said, with a look of someone who has said more than she meant to, "but to still be friends is really good."

I showed no indication of having noticed, but it kept going around in my head. Alison had said Julie had affairs with Miles. That was affairs, plural. I only knew about an affair, singular.

It all came out shortly after the inquest. Julie had started cooking dinner on the days I had the girls and she would invite me to stay to eat with them. It was at one of these dinners that Annabel and Grace started to talk about Nicola. I hadn't really thought to tell Julie about her. After all, it was none of her business. However, after one visit that had particularly excited them they started to tell Julie about having a ride in Nicola's police car. This time Julia wanted to know who she was, so I told her she was my fiancée. Julie was particularly quiet after that until we'd put the girls to bed.

"How could you do that to me?" she asked.

"Do what?" I countered.

"Oh, come off it, you must have realised," she said. "You let me waste all my efforts, cooking for you, almost pleading with you to come to my bed. You must have realised I was trying to win you back. All the time I was doing that you're asking some slut of a police woman to marry you."