43 comments/ 77181 views/ 13 favorites Funny, How Time Slips Away By: The Wanderer This is a re-posted and edited version of the original story; but there are no significant changes. I asked LadyCibelle to read it through and remove the all too many mistakes and typos I generally make. Hopefully it will make it easier to read. * It's funny how your mind works when you see something or someone familiar. I had just come out of a shop on the High street, when something caught my eye. I looked, and then I had to look again. No that's impossible. No my eyes had got to be playing tricks on me. Standing there across the street, was Rebecca. But no, it couldn't be! This was a young woman who looked just like Becky had looked, twenty-odd years ago. My mind raced back to my first meeting with Becky at a party when we were both seventeen. God it was uncanny this young lady was the image of her. Suddenly, I realised I was staring at the girl; I think around the same time she became aware of me and it appeared my attentions were making her feel somewhat uncomfortable. She turned away and pretended to look into a shop window. I could see that she was keeping a wary eye on me in the window's reflection. I couldn't take my eyes off of her; her whole stance everything about the way she carried herself was my Rebecca. Then at last, I came to my senses and turned away. There was no way this child could be Becky; it was just a trick of the mind. I walked down the road glancing back on occasions. Yes, she was still there and every time I looked, I saw Becky. I felt very uncomfortable myself and somewhat melancholy. By the time I came upon the 'Stag Inn', a pint was definitely called for. I went in, got myself a pint, and then I chose a quiet corner table where I hoped I wouldn't be disturbed. Then my mind drifted back to happier times. I had first met Rebecca at a party when I was seventeen. She caught my eye the moment she came into the place. She wasn't a raving beauty or anything like that, but there was something about her, that attracted me to her from the moment I saw her. She had come in with one of the usual studs, well that's what he thought he was. He had mummy's car outside and thought he was God's gift. You remember the sort, always bragging about whom they had scored with. Personally I've always thought that guys who have to keep talking about how successful they'd been getting into girl's knickers, must have an inferiority complex or something and the odds were they hadn't scored as much as they would have liked to. Me, I have always preferred to keep my own council; well there's no point in getting you the wrong kind of reputation. If the girls hear the guys discussing just whom you had laid, they knew it wasn't going to do their reputation too much good to go out with you. It was the girls you needed to get talking about you, and if you were lucky they would say how nice and trustworthy you were. Then if you played your cards right, you got yourself a nice healthy score count; up to that point in my life, that had been my philosophy and it was working fine. Something about Becky's body language was telling me she wasn't over enamoured with her escort. When they were dancing to the slow numbers she appeared to be trying to hold him away from herself. Well to be honest, he was trying to grind his crotch into her and she was getting into all kinds of contortions to keep him from achieving his goal. OK, maybe little things do please little minds. But I did found it all highly amusing, so much so in fact, that I was not on the prowl myself; if you know what I mean. Well, maybe I had decided that I was going try and steal Becky from this guy; but I don't think that was a conscious thought at the time. But the Prick was putting it away a bit, stupid if you're intending to drive later. She didn't look stupid, so I was in with a chance. Anyway around eleven or there-abouts Becky's date went to the little boy's room. On instinct I went for it and before he returned Becky and me were tripping the light fantastic. He tried to butt in, but I was having none of it, and I did have a little bit of a reputation back then, that I wasn't the kind of guy you picked a fight with. Not quite sure how I got that, could be that had I never got into a fight; I wasn't sure I was going to win and I always had the boys around as well to back me up. Her date withdrew and mingled with some of his friends, whilst he looked daggers at me. Becky explained that she was on a blind date along with her friend. She said, if she had known just whom her date was going to be she wouldn't have come. She was worried about the journey home as the guy bad been putting it away a bit and he did have a reputation for not behaving himself. That was just what I was hoping to hear. "OK Rebecca, if you're really that worried, we've got the van outside if you want a lift, and we'll be leaving about one. It'll be a bit crowded, but I can promise you'll get home in one piece and with your virtue intact. Alan our driver doesn't drink, he's allergic to alcohol or something, one pint and the bugger's out for the count." "Thanks, that's kind of you and I'll probably take you up on that. But I had better go back to him for the time being; I think he's getting a bit antsy" she replied Pleased with myself, I did a quick tour of my close friends to let them know what I was up to, and ensure they were all happy with a one o'clock split. Alan, as usual, was buried under Angela, the second love of his life; the first being his old Thames Trader van. I just said "One o'clock all right" and an arm appeared from under Angela's skirt and gave me the thumbs up sign. God forbid they ever break they're snog to actually speak to me. One o'clock and we're all in the van; Alan in the driving seat with Angela, kind of half-sat on the engine cover and half draped over Alan. How the hell he ever drove that thing with her draped all over him I was never able to understand. But he never came near having a prang whenever I was with then. The hoards were in the back, jammed in as best they could and I was sitting on the passenger seat. Becky came tripping out of the party with a big smile on her face and jumped into the van and sat on my lap. Now to be honest, she wasn't as careful as I would have liked when she jumped in and I did talk a couple of octaves higher for a few minutes. "What did he say when you told him you were getting a lift home with us?" I asked. "I didn't tell him, he thinks I'm in the loo. I wonder how long it will take him to realise I'm not coming back?" We all laughed as Alan pulled away. It was a long and convoluted journey, to take everyone home. Each of the guy's girls had to be dropped off and of course there was the necessary snogging session and arrangements for their next date to be made. Then the guy would have to be taken home. So it was gone three when we finally arrived at Rebecca's house. She was worried, as there were lights on, so she figured her parents were still up waiting for her and they weren't going to be happy. Now I've always found that if you are prepared to take the bull by the horns, you can achieve miracles, sometimes! So asking the two A's if they would wait for me, I took hold of Becky's hand and marched up to the front door. The door swung open before we got there and the mountain that was apparently Becky's father was standing there to greet us. I quickly switched from 'Randy little bugger' into 'Young gentleman' mode. "Good evening sir, I must apologise for bringing Rebecca home at this ridiculously late hour. But the boy she went out with this evening, had far too much to drink. I thought it would be safer, that she rode home with us, as my friend who's driving doesn't drink. I'm sorry but we did have quite a lot of people to drop off on the way. Had I realised you were waiting up, I would have asked Rebecca to call you. You have my deepest apologies, goodnight Sir." I think I had taken him completely by surprise; Becky told me later that her other boyfriends that had brought her home late, had usually tended to leg it when they saw the size of her father. He just said thank you and goodnight in reply to me, and then I said Goodnight to Becky, turned and walked away. Course there was the slight problem that I hadn't got Becky's phone number, but that was easy to rectify; it was that first impression with daddy, which counted. The following afternoon I was knocking at her door with two bouquets of flowers, one for Becky and the other for her mother, who I had seen lurking in the background the night before. Becky's mother opened the door; I presented her with her bouquet and apologised to her for bringing Becky home so late the night before. There are times when you have to crawl. Then I asked if I could speak to Rebecca. Becky and I finished up going for a walk in the local park and later that evening we went bowling together. That was the start of a great romance and we rapidly became an inseparable couple. It was three months before we slept together. My family were away for the weekend and we spent a memorable Saturday in my bedroom. None of your Wham Bam malarkey! We made love to one another, after that we got into the habit of having sex two or three times a week. I was crazy about my Becky, but for some reason it did take us three years before we decided to get engaged. I don't think either of us were in a hurry to get married; we were just having a good time. The trouble with sitting in a bar on your own, remembering the good old times, is that its leads you on into remembering the bad time's as well. The Christmas after Becky and I got engaged things began to go wrong between us. I suppose it was my fault really; we were at a Christmas party and there was at lot of kissing under the mistletoe going on. Some guy was kissing Becky; I got it into my head that this was the third or forth time he'd kissed her and it appeared to me they both were making too much of a meal of it. That led on to me telling Becky, I thought it was enough. We'd both been drinking a bit and she told me, not to be so silly and jealous. Well that was to lead into out first real fight. It all blew over after a couple of days, but looking back at it now that was the beginning of the end for us. After that we seemed to have arguments every couple of weeks or so. Always about stupid things, I think we were both becoming too possessive and jealous; we would fly off the handle for no apparent reason. We were definitely in love, had we been actually married, I'm sure a lot of the arguments would never have happened. With hindsight I realise that we had been together for so long, and not having made that final commitment had left us both feeling a little insecure. Then we had the big one. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about; but it finished up with Rebecca throwing her engagement ring at me and storming off. As it worked out, we were never to see each other again. For the first week or so, I moped about my house waiting for her to call and apologise. I know from what our friends were to tell me later, that Becky was doing exactly the same thing. But then the hand of fate stepped in and dealt us a deathblow. My older brother and his wife, who had emigrated to Australia some years before, were involved in a serious road accident. My sister and I immediately flew out there to look after the children and their business. It was only later that I was to realise, I should have sorted things out with Becky before I went, but hindsight can be wonderful thing; you can always see your mistakes when you look back on them. A letter or two to Rebecca could have made all the difference to our lives. It was eight months before I returned to England. I quickly learnt through the grapevine, that Becky had got herself pregnant by some guy; they had married and moved up north. Her friends told me that she had been really upset when she heard I had gone down under; they all, including Becky, had thought I had emigrated out there for good and had no idea I was intending to return. I never could figure that one out as all my friends knew why I had gone out to Australia. Maybe someone had their eyes on Becky and spread a rumour around. Becky must have assumed I had deserted her and she had started going out with lots of other of guys. Her best friend Julia told me she had been looking for someone to replace me, and had turned into somewhat of a slapper in the process. She apparently developed the reputation of allowing anyone into her pants. But that didn't sound like the Becky I knew, but then again she did finish up pregnant. After I found that Becky was gone, I didn't really go out on dates very much; I seemed to have lost interest in chasing the girls. I spent a lot of my spare time down the snooker club or on the Bowling Green. No it's not an old man's game. I'll give you most of the players are getting on in years, but it is a very skilful and enjoyable pastime; although I do think I'm much better on the baize with a cue in one hand and a pint in the other. A couple of pints and a snooker table, now that's heaven! When I was twenty-five I met a girl called Sheila at work; with whom I became quite friendly. She was a year older than me and had been married and divorced once already. Looking back on it now, I suppose I should have been a little more sceptical when she started to come on strong to me. But a year later we were married, I don't think I ever really loved her, like I loved Becky. I was extremely fond of her, we had two lovely children in quick succession and by the time I was thirty-two I was a happily married father, with a nice little semi. My two daughters we named Anna Otterley Garner and Carol Otterley Garner. Why the Otterley? Well I just happened to like the name. I had always wanted to have a daughter named Otterley, but Sheila wasn't too keen on the idea. But then again I did the registering of the births bit, so I quietly slipped the name in for both of them. It's funny that Sheila wasn't keen on the name Otterley, as Rebecca had always turned her nose up at it as well. Maybe that was one of the silly things we argued about in those final few months. For a few years, things rolled along quite nicely. Becky faded into my dream world; I would sometimes have the most vivid dreams that it was Becky who I was married to instead of Sheila. We would be walking in that park we went on that first afternoon. Or she would be pushing Anna on the swings whilst I pushed Carol. Then that fickle hand of fate visited me once again. A good mate told me that Sheila was playing around. You'll never believe it, it turned out she was having an affair with her first husband. Her ex, who is now her husband again, generally stays well out of my way, as I did put him in hospital for a little rest. It all happened very quickly from my friend tipping me the wink; to me being a single man again, took just over six months. After the divorce Sheila asked for a meeting and the pair of them came to my solicitors office to see me. They both apologised to me for what had happened and told me that they wouldn't be claiming any maintenance for the children. But said that they would put any money I gave Sheila into the children's trust accounts. Oh' and they dropped the assault charge as well. They told me they wanted me to be part of the children's lives and promised me that I would have access whenever I wanted to see them, or when the children wanted to see me. That sometimes has proved not to be the blessing that it sounds. When Carol had a nightmare one night, I found myself being summoned to her bedside at three in the morning. Yes, if you're wondering, it turned out the children were mine; I had that checked. But I don't think it would've made any difference to me; I loved the little tykes. I was taking them out every weekend and I'm pleased to be able to say that for a long while Sheila and I were quite friendly and civil to each other when we met. It turned out Sheila's ex was infertile, and that's why she had divorced him in the first place. Sheila was obviously more in love with him, than she ever was with me. Once she had the girls I was superfluous and she turned back to him. You know, Sheila once actually had the gall to ask me to get her pregnant again, as she would like to have more children. Well it take's all sorts! I've got myself a little flat. Nothing fancy, but it suited me well enough and it was somewhere for the kids to visit me. For the next year or so things settled into a relaxed routine. I had the children on the weekends Sheila and shitface had them during the week. The girls never did say that anything was wrong, but I noticed towards the end that Sheila wasn't coming to the door anymore when I picked the children up. I would pull up outside the house and the girls would come running out, carrying their weekend bags. I became aware that they always appeared to be wearing clothes that I bought them on our weekend shopping trips. I just assumed that they wore them to please me. Then one Wednesday I came home from work to be greeted by the dreaded social worker and a policeman. As I walked up the stairs to the flat, I saw that there were two suitcases outside my door. "Are you Mr Garner sir," the officer asked. "Yes." I replied, I never like it when a copper calls you sir! I know I'm not going to like what he has to say next. It was a stupid question for him to ask anyway, I had heard the social worker tell him who I was as I came up the stairs. "I'm sorry to have to tell you sir, that your ex-wife Mrs Sheila Sabey has passed away. It is a suspicious death, but it appears your ex-wife may have inadvertently taken an overdose of anti-depressants. There will have to be an inquest and we would appreciate it if you could call in the station and make a statement for us." "I don't think I can help you officer, I haven't seen my ex-wife for months." "I understand that sir, but the coroner will require a statement from you to that effect. So if you wouldn't mind; anytime within the next few days will do. Good evening sir." With that he walked off down the stairs. I looked at the social worker, who was patiently waiting her turn at me. "Anna and Carol have asked that I bring them here to you. Sheila's husband has. Er Um. Look I'm not supposed to tell you this, but he's become an alcoholic in the last few years. Sheila's been in a real mess for a year or so now. The girls have been running the house; I can't leave them with your ex-wife's husband and if you can't take them, I'm going to have to take them into care." "I don't like to say this, but you and that policeman have just made me the happiest man in the world. Of course I'll take them, they're all I've got. But where are they and how have they taken their mother's death?" "They're in with your neighbours' children, at the moment. They appeared to be old friends and it got them out the way while we have a little chat." "They appear to be taking they're mothers death very well. It was Carol who found her this afternoon when she came home from school. The two girls called the police and me. They are two very bright young girls you've got there. I'm sure they know what their mother has done; but I think it best we don't discuss that with them. I'll arrange for a trained councillor to see them as soon as I can." I gathered from her remarks that it was assumed that Sheila's death might not have been an accident and she could well have had taken her own life. The girls soon settled in. I could see no ill effects on them concerning their mother's death. They had obviously been running the house for sometime and soon took over my place completely. If nothing else Sheila had taught them how to cook well. I soon had to go on a strict diet and started having to go to the gym. Funny How Time Slips Away Copyright© 2009,2012 by Stultus A Story in the Jake River's Willie Nelson Invitational Universe When a cheating wife ill-treats and leaves a struggling poor factory manager, sometimes the very best revenge in life is to live well! A tale of how karmic justice sometimes does work out for everyone. Any story codes are trivial and only implied. Genre: Romantic Codes: MF FF Mult Humor Cheat preg Sex Content: Minimal Sex Originally Posted on SOL: 2009-06-21 Thanks to Jake and my usual cast and crew of Editors and Advance Readers! This story was in a worse mess than usual but we eventually got it reasonably straightened out together! Funny How Time Slips Away "Your family kept you cut off?" She nodded again and finished the last of her wine. Their well-tipped bartender immediately filled it full again right away. "At first they liked Dave quite a lot, and paid for most of the divorce expenses, but when his other legal problems started, they cut us off right at the knees. He had borrowed a lot of money from them, too — money that I didn't know about until after he was in prison. He was also openly unfaithful to me several times during that period of time and they were angry that I continued to forgive him. He's been mostly faithful to me since his release, but there have been occasional lapses where he's disappointed me. Nevertheless, we try to work through it. I've tried to repay at least some of the debt, but my letters home are always returned unopened. Go ahead and say it ... mom and dad always were uptight assholes and they didn't start to like you until long after you were gone." Jeff laughed and agreed. "Old man Hudson wanted Dave's balls mounted on a wall, but he had another big heart attack not long afterward and pretty much had to retire completely. He moved to Florida to fish full time and left his daughter Carla with the reins of the empire." "Crazy Carla? The outrageous one that was living in Greenwich Village in New York going to art school and majoring in radical feminism?" "That's the one. Long black hair, very gothic looking with body piercings everyplace she could find to put one. She used to be a hardcore confirmed lesbian who hated men and anything remotely capitalist. Responsibility has been good for her though. She had been studying fashion design there and found that she had a real knack for it. Since she took over she completely revamped our entire product line and made our women's fashion collection the hit of Milan nearly every season for the last few years." "The big Milan shoe fashion shows?" "The biggest. The Fashion and Style channels regularly show our latest collections on display worn by the world's top models. Our shoes are worn now by nearly every major fashion house in Paris for their own shows too. I guess you don't read Vogue very often anymore, but they tend to think rather highly of us and consider us one of the big boys now. This live show today from London featured the new Gloria Regina lingerie line, during which every model wore our shoes from slippers and sandals to fuck-me-pumps. We were all watching the show on the big screen here and counting the number of happy buyers in the audience. We don't have to sell crap to Wally or K-Mart anymore, we're in Macy's and Neiman-Marcus and hundreds of other boutique shops all over the world now!" "Oh." She said and focused her attention on her fresh glass of wine for awhile. "So things have been alright for you then? You're still Director of Operations and running things?" She asked. "I'm still running things. Carla is the owner and our head designer, but she lets me handle all of the business side of things. She's still not much of a people person. I did get a bit of a title change a few years ago when I married Carla. Technically, I'm a co-owner now, but I prefer to just be called 'Boss'." "You married Crazy Carla?" Maureen sputtered, nearly spilling her drink. "I thought you said she was a lesbian?" "She was ... and still sort of is. Let's just say she's a bit more bisexual now. We had to work very closely together for a couple of years to pull the company out of the trash heap it was in. Since we were spending sixteen-hour days together, every single day of the week for a while, we eventually started to grow on each other and decided to make the association more permanent. She's learned to tolerate old western swing music and I've learned to tolerate her love of the avante-garde. It works ... sometimes she'll even go dancing with me, or one of her girlfriends will go with me instead. It gets a little harder to get out now with the children. When she's home she loves to play mom ... she's been a great mother for all of the children." "You and Carla have children?" "We've had two kids and she wouldn't mind one more before we're done." He pulled out his wallet, extracted an accordion-folded photo holder and pulled out the first two pictures. "Here is Jack; he's eight, and his six-year-old sister Charlotte. They are our oldest and the only ones that live at home with us." "Other ones? Where do they live? I'm confused." Jeff smiled and began to lay out some more photographs. "Many of Carla's girlfriends are also confirmed lesbians, but that doesn't mean that they don't want children of their own, or mind being with a man occasionally to get them. Carla's very good about sharing her friends and helping them with their private needs. Jeffery is five and his mother is one of Carla's oldest friends from New York. Amanda is also just about to turn five and her mother is a famous fashion model I'm sure you would recognize. I've also helped her with another younger daughter, Carrie, who is two. I think she wants a third child also, since she's coming to stay with us for a long visit sometime this late this summer." Jeff laid out three additional photos, but Maureen was already in complete shock. "You've had eight children by five different women? And your wife approves?" "We have a very unconventional relationship, but we're happy. She loves kids. The more the merrier. It's not like they all live with us, but I do get to see them occasionally, whenever they visit. Besides, I knew going into this marriage that my wife would be unfaithful to me with other women — repeatedly and often. So we each have our own freedom and I can have lovers of my own. I think it's nice that she's honest about it and often shares her friends; it makes for a more trusting relationship. It's certainly better than finding out your wife was having an affair by coming home to an empty house." "I've always felt bad about that. We should have cleared the air and made a better break. I had meant to write and apologize, but time just slipped away and it never got done." Her drink was empty once again and Jeff signaled for another for both of them. They drank in silence for awhile, but then his Blackberry signaled an incoming message. He looked at it and laughed. "Look what my darling bride is bringing home for me tomorrow!" He laughed and showed Maureen the message and the attached image, which was a very graphic photo taken by a cell phone camera of two naked and very beautiful women together in bed. "This is her new supermodel girlfriend that she just met at a runway show in London last week, and she has already gotten her into bed. They met up at Milan again and now she's going to bring her home with her tomorrow for a week or two of some threesome fun here. I just love how my wife takes care of me!" Maureen downed what was left of her drink in one gulp and looked at the empty glass for some time before starting to make her excuses to leave. "Jeff, it was good to see you again and I'm glad to see that you're doing well, but it's time for me to leave and meet up with Dave. I see that you've found happiness in your life since I left. I do wish you well, but we won't likely return up here again." They briefly hugged and Jeff pulled out all of the cash that was left in his wallet, a few hundred dollar bills and pressed them firmly into Maureen's hand, not taking "No!" for an answer. "Take this and treat yourselves to a nice dinner tonight, or later after you get home go buy something nice for yourself. He might be trying to reform, but the old schemer and cheater is still there inside him. Dave was a rat in an expensive suit and he'll still be a rat in a cheap one. Draw a line in the sand and make him toe it. The next time he cheats on you, show him the door. You're a better woman than that now and you don't deserve this. Kick him to the curb and be strong. Worst case, you can cry to your sort-of rich ex-husband. Call me and I'll help: a plane ticket, a job and a clean start ... on me. Not a loan, but a gift from an old college friend ... we were friends once, long before we screwed it up by getting married. Be well, Maureen." After a final embrace she left the bar, still clutching the gift of $300 in her tight fist. She had wanted to throw it back into his face, but he hadn't offered it out of malice or perverse humor ... and she really needed the money. Dave was drinking again and the meager cash savings she had hidden in the old cookie jar at home for a rainy day had suddenly disappeared a few weeks ago. The bills were starting to pile up once again. Maybe the 'bad' old Dave was back once again ... and she wasn't sure that she could live with that all over again. Seeing her ex again had badly confused her. She had wronged him and hurt him bad but he had picked himself off of the ground and he had prospered. If she had only trusted him and had been patient to wait, she could have had that life of wealth and privilege she had always wanted. And children ... those children that she had nearly now waited too long to bear, waiting for times to get better. The photos showed that Jeff did make awfully beautiful babies apparently, and those could have been her children instead. Instead, for reasons that she couldn't explain or fathom to this very day, she had jumped ship for the first better looking opportunity, but soon found herself in a far worse situation than she had been in before. Nearly from the very start, Maureen had been tempted to run back to Jeff and beg for forgiveness, but her pride and arrogant ego had prevented her. What a foolish young woman she had been in those days! Maureen skipped the scheduled shopping tour of the town with the other wives. She sat quietly by herself in the hotel restaurant, drinking coffee and considering the hash she had made of her life. Besides, she had very little money of her own to spend on frivolities these days, and window shopping held little appeal to her at the moment. Watching the hotel lobby from inside the restaurant, it didn't come as a great shock to see her husband Dave slip out of one of his sales seminars early with a busty blonde fellow saleswoman. Together they took the elevator up to her room, where they remained from two-thirty until nearly five, just before Maureen had been due to return from the scheduled shopping expedition that she had skipped. Maureen had listened to the cheating couple indulge in sex and she remained patiently waiting outside their door until it opened, and she and her soon-to-be-next ex-husband then settled their accounts for good. The last fifteen years of her life had indeed been an utter waste. Jeff was right, she decided, it was indeed funny how time just slips away. Funny, How Time Slips Away ----------------------- A shadow suddenly fell over my table and as I looked up a voice said. "Hi John, how do you fancy buying an old friend and her daughter a drink? You always used to say, ladies shouldn't be in a bar unescorted." I looked up to see Rebecca standing there, with the young lady I had seen earlier standing along side her. They looked like two sisters; the young woman was obviously her daughter. I felt a twinge in my chest and it was all I could do to call out to the barman. "George! Can I have two Vodka and Orange's over here please? And you'd better bring me a large Rum, I've just had a little bit of shock." Vodka and Orange had always been Becky's favourite drink. It was an old joke for me to order without asking her what she wanted. The game always had been that she would object that I hadn't asked her what she wanted and then when I did. Becky would ask for an Orange with Vodka Please. Today she didn't object, but I detected a hint of twinkle in her eyes that told me she remembered. Her daughter had a strange reaction as well; it was as if she had expected what drinks I was going to order. The two girls sat down opposite me. "John I'd like you to meet Otterley; she told me that some strange guy had been staring at her. From her description I knew it had to be you. How are you keeping?" Otterley, Becky had called her daughter Otterley. All the times she told me that no child of hers was going to be lumbered with the name Otterley and that's what she finished up calling her daughter. The barman brought us our drinks as I started telling Becky and her daughter the story of my life since I'd last seen Rebecca, much as I have told you. Then it was Becky's turn. She told me that when she'd heard I'd gone to Aus. she'd been heartbroken; her friends told her to forget me and get on with her life. She had a few boyfriends, and then she'd fallen pregnant by this student guy from Birmingham. They got married and she moved back to Birmingham with him when he graduated. When Becky's friends had told her I was back from Australia and asking after her; she said she was even more upset than she had been when she thought I had emigrated. She realised she'd burnt her bridges. Then a few years later someone had told her I was married and had a couple of children. Her marriage had turned out to be a disaster. The only two good things came out of it, were Otterley and her Job. She had got in on the ground floor with some firm that was just starting up; as the company had grown she had gone up with it. Now she ran the accounts department with twenty people working under her and had an impressive salary. Her husband hadn't fared so well in the job stakes and as Becky's salary went up he had gotten jealous of her. Even with his years in Uni. he couldn't match Becky's earnings and he apparently couldn't stomach, to not be the main wage earner. There was a downside to the job for Becky though, when her marriage broke up she had to stay in Brom, as she would never match her salary anywhere else. That meant she couldn't move back to be near her family. Becky and I talked for hours about our time together and I noted that Otterley wasn't just sitting listening. She was part of the conversation; she would ask about how I remembered certain incidents; it appeared to me that Rebecca had told her the intermittent details of our time together. Eventually we got round to that last argument. Neither one of us could recall what it had been about, and Becky almost broke into tears when she related how she had taken off my engagement ring and thrown it at me. I slowly reached up to my neck and pulled out the chain that I always wear around it. Rebecca's eyes got wide as she spotted the ring hanging on the chain. Then she burst out crying, jumped up and ran out of the Pub. Otterley sat quietly and watched her go, then turned back at me. "Grandfather is very ill and we're staying at gran's house whilst he's in hospital. You know were to find us if you want. John, you know mother has always loved you and has missed you something awful. She has often told me how much she regrets making the biggest mistake of her life, that day when she threw your ring at you. I have missed you too and I have never met you before today, but mother has told me so much about you over the years; in a way I've felt I've always known you. I somehow knew who you were when I saw you looking at me." Then she thanked me for the drinks and left to join her mother. I followed Otterley to the door and watched her get into the driving seat of a Discovery in the car park. Becky was in the passenger seat her head bent forward. I could see she was crying. -------------------------------------- So the next morning I found myself standing outside that door again. This time I was struggling to carry three bouquets. The Disco wasn't in the drive so I was hoping someone was in. Rebecca's mother opened the door and I held out her bouquet to her. She pushed it aside and threw her arms around me, and started crying. "Oh John!" She said, "You will never know how pleased I am to see you. Otterley has told me all about yesterday. She will be so happy; she said she hoped you'd be here today." "Otterley, I was kind of hoping, it would be Becky that wanted me to come!" "Oh, she does alright, but for a few years now, when your name is mentioned she starts crying and you can't get any sense out of her at all. It's really come back to her what a silly thing she did when she threw your ring at you; she's been crying most of the night. Otterley took her to see father this morning to take her mind off you. But I'll bet the silly old bugger asks her if she's tracked you down yet. He's been keeping tabs on you over the years and told her you were divorced, you know." "Well Becky's not the only one that's had a sleepless night!" "That's good! Oh that wasn't very nice of me was it? But we always knew you two were made for one another. It's good you've found each other again before its too late." "Come on Mary, please don't go jumping the gun. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since Rebecca and I were engaged. People change you know." "Some do, but the only change in you, is the fact you've brought three bunches of flowers this time. I know you still love Rebecca. Otterley told me that she could see it in your face when you were looking at her mother yesterday. She's a very perceptive young lady and she said you were on the edge of tears all afternoon; she is hoping today you might take that ring off its chain and put it back where it belongs." We were disturbed by the arrival of the Disco in the drive. I had parked along the road so they wouldn't know I was there. I placed the other two bouquets on the coffee table, telling Mary which one was for Becky and asked her not to let on I was still in the house; then I went and hid in the dinning room. Rebecca and Otterley came in and Becky gave Mary the good news that her husband was feeling much better. Then she went quiet for a few moments, as she noticed the flowers that Mary still had in her hand, before asking Mary where they had come from? "Oh, there are some for both of you over there, as well." Mary replied. "I had a gentleman caller this morning. He came to ask how your father was." Through the crack at the edge of the door I saw Rebecca go over to the flowers. But she reached down to the wrong bouquet. "No! The other one is yours; apparently there is a difference." Becky picked up the flowers and had a good look at them. Having located the card, she pulled the little envelope out and began to open it. Then she stopped and began to cry as she had felt that the envelope contained something else besides the card. The game was up and I came out of my hiding place. Becky looked at me. "Well go on girl, you took the bloody thing off. It's your choice, if you want to put it back on again. Or do you want me to do it?" She passed me the envelope. "AH, but before I do that, there's a couple of things you've got to take into account first." I pushed the button on my cell phone to send the message. Shortly we heard a car door slam in the distance. Mary went over and opened the front door again and two little blond tornado's burst into the house and ran over to me; throwing their arms around my waist. "I'm afraid we come as a package nowadays." Becky smiled down at them. "You must be Anna and that means you have to be Carol." She said. "I think your father is asking me to become you're step-mother; would you like that?" "I'm Otty and she's Tilly." Anna corrected her. That's what daddy calls us and we hope you will do the same. Daddy loves you, he has told us all about you before. He said you should have been our mummy in the first place." Becky held out her finger and surprisingly, the ring slipped right on. I had been worried that it would have to be resized after all these years. "Well Otty and Tilly it looks like you've got yourselves a new big sister. This is my daughter Otterley. You know, I think these names are going to cause some confusion." ---------------------------------------- Right, here I am, waiting at the registry office. Rebecca is late, but that's always a bride's prerogative hasn't it. We've had to wait a few months until her father has got well enough to do the honours. Alan and Angela have just come in with their hoard. Christ, seven of them and they're all girls; Alan has my sympathies. But he has told me Rebecca is outside and is going to make me wait, just a few minutes more. Becky's quit her job in Brom and we've moved into a nice detached house, not far from her parent's place. Otty and Tilly (that wasn't my idea honestly, but they insist) have taken to Becky and Otterley like ducks to water, and from the moment that ring went back on Rebecca's finger, Otterley has taken to calling me dad. When the three girls get together, there's hell to pay, you would never believe that they aren't really sisters. Otterley has just started at the LSE. God, I'll bet she's going to be a right pain in the arse, that crowd always are. I don't know what the future has in store for me, but at least now I'm with the woman I love. I really do feel like I'm twenty-one again, but of course I'm not and I've got three lovely daughters to prove it. I wonder if Beck's fancies trying for a boy before its too late. Funny, how time slips away. Life goes on. Thank you for taking the time to read this tale. Your votes and comments are always appreciated. The Wanderer