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The Way Back Ch. 01

By: Alwaysraining



A warning to the unwary. This is a long story that unfolds slowly as a man seeks to regain his life. It is in 10 parts containing 53 chapters all of which are completed and will be submitted daily. After that it's up to Literotica.

It is written in British English.

Though it is told in the first person. It is not autobiographical, but fiction. Any resemblance to, or names of, real persons is accidental. Many of the places, however, do exist, though some liberties have been taken.

There is sex in a number of different relationships, all such acts are between characters over 18 years of age.

***********

ONE 

I'm still not right. Never will be. I don't mean right or wrong; I mean healthy. At least I remember now, apart from the actual days it happened. Those days are still blank.

"You are a very rare case," said my doctor. "Apart from those with permanent memory loss, practically every case gets memory back after a few months, and to lose your identity for so long... but then we've not seen anyone else survive after the hammering your brain took."

Big deal. So I'm a rare case. It doesn't help; hasn't helped. Of course I'm much better now; I remember most things and people from before the injury except, as I say, the day of the injury itself. My short-term memory is still improving even after all this time. Sometimes it lapses and I panic, but I carry about my little electronic pad, and it tells me the most important things. Keeps me on track. 

But I am anticipating. Let's start at the beginning. Settle down, it's a long story.

They told me what they knew at the hospital, Newcastle-upon-Tyne General. They were very patient, telling me the story over and over again, and over and over again I forgot it. Gradually it stuck.

I had been rushed into hospital on the twenty fourth of August 2001. Someone had phoned the ambulance, which saved my life. I was in a very bad way: I had been badly beaten, ending up on a patch of waste ground. 

Badly? My face had been thoroughly mashed and probably stamped on, and my skull was fractured. Most of my teeth were gone, my nose was a pulp, my jaw and cheeks broken. That was only my head. 

My neck had suffered, my voice box slightly damaged. Ribs, one thigh and a shin on the other leg broken, kneecaps damaged and both ankles the same. There were some internal injuries upon which they operated: the thugs had concentrated on my head. It was clear to everyone that the thug or thugs had tried to kill me, and more than that had tried to obliterate my face.

My balls were bruised: they must have got a few kicks to my backside. I must have got into a foetal position because my penis remained untouched. We need to be thankful for small mercies, laughed the doctor. Joke. No comment.

Everything I had on me was stolen. In an attack of prudishness they left me my underpants, but that was all. The police, world-weary as always, were assuming it was a mugging carried to extremes, or that I was involved in some shady dealings in the underworld. It didn't change the outcome. Apparently they took my fingerprints but it turned out I was innocent. No records.

However, my injuries were the worst any of the medics had ever seen, and no one thought I would live. I was on life support in a deep coma for six months, but no relatives came forward to give permission to switch off the life-support. Not surprising perhaps; I had no identification on me, and I was not talking! So, at last, the hospital went to court to get permission to discontinue life-support. It took weeks to be resolved in the hospital's favour. 

When they did turn it off I carried on breathing! A month later I began very slowly to come round, and all that legal stuff had been useless. So I survived one attempt by thugs, and another by the medical profession to kill me.

I came round slowly as I said; it took months. Gradually I began to make some sort of response to the prodding and pinching they did to assess my consciousness. I was at a very rudimentary level; I could not speak. I had to begin to learn to talk again. I didn't know how to do anything -- I mean anything. 

An additional problem was that I had no memory and didn't know who I was. Neither did anyone else. I had been unconscious or semi-conscious for nine months in different levels of coma, and two more months regaining what most would call consciousness.

Then came long months of rehabilitation. I was a rare case because I had no memories at all, not even my name, a condition which was almost unheard of. The medics and the police later thought I was pretending, since it was unusual for memory loss to extend to identity; I had something to hide, probably the reason I was beaten up. 

I learned to understand, to talk, to walk, to read, to dress myself, to wash and to use the toilet, not necessarily in that order! Much later I learned to write. The pain was intense and the struggle long and dispiriting. My emotional life was all to pot as well. I was by turns aggressive and docile, optimistic and deeply depressed, but utterly and doggedly determined, I am told.

Nearly two years after my admission I was physically fit enough to leave rehabilitation although I was still crippled, walking on crutches with pins in bones, but because my short-term memory came and went I was not able to live alone, so I had to remain at the rehab centre. 

Some memory began to return: I had vivid nightmares the details of which I couldn't remember shortly after I awoke, and there were flashes which I couldn't understand. 

I remembered "no 'H', two 'Ls' and two 'Ss'". It made no sense. 

They called me Aled Jones after the Welsh Tenor. It was a joke: they'd heard me singing in the shower. It was heavy irony also, for with my voice no one would want to hear me sing. As it happened the initials AJ were just right but no one knew that.

My body and face had been reconstructed over the months while I was comatose. I was grateful for that because it had saved me some of the pain. However, my face looked a mess; I mean my own reflection frightened me! I wondered from time to time what I used to look like before. The medics had done what they could; mustn't grumble. The female nurses used to say it gave me a unique charm, a rugged attractiveness. I was not taken in.

The thing was, I was obsessive about making progress. At least that is what they told me. I would get frustrated and angry, to the extent of throwing things around when I was not improving fast enough. It did mean that my doggedness made me progress more quickly. 

I did puzzles, I walked and walked on my crutches and tried to walk without them too early, with disastrous results. I don't think I was nice to know. One thing I took to immediately was the computer they got me. 

To help my short-term memory, I wrote everything that I needed to remember into my computer diary. There were emerging memories of childhood. For instance it came to me out of the blue that I lived in the Manchester area, not Newcastle.

Don't get the idea that I was all alone in all this. One nurse in particular took a special shine to me. She was the one who would come and visit me as I lay in hospital before I could walk. She held my hand and stroked it when I felt I couldn't go on any more. After she was moved to another department, she continued to come and see me. 

Her name was Patricia Mary O'Toole. With her devilish sense of humour, she used to say that without the 'O' in O'Toole she'd have been a mental wreck. Get it? Initials PMT? Pre-Menstrual Tension? Never mind. 

Trish had no trace of an Irish accent, after all she was born and brought up on Tyneside and her accent came from there. I found it delightful. She called me 'pet' and 'hinny', and had a way of injecting me with optimism when the pain and stress were at their worst.

She was a tall, slim girl, about twenty-five, perhaps a little older, pretty with a good figure; I suppose you might call it 'understated hour-glass'. She had a nice pert bottom which balanced her nice pert tits. She had thin but shapely legs. Auburn hair. 

I wondered about her private life since she spent so much time with me, but she said she had no family left in Britain and she was not into relationships. She liked casual flings when she felt horny, but no strings. 

She would regale me with stories about going out on Saturday nights in winter, wearing a skimpy top, micro-skirt, tiny knickers and high heels, 'on the pull' as she put it. It was not unusual for girls in Newcastle to do that, she said. It made me feel cold just to think about it! She did not go into sexual details.

To allow me to leave rehab she found me a flat and moved in with me, leaving her own flat for a while. She bustled round the flat, tidying up or making meals when I couldn't be bothered or was feeling too depressed to do anything. Once she was sure I could be left, she returned to her flat, but visited me daily, staying over some nights.

The other thing she did, and to that I owe my ability to tell this tale, she bought me a cheapish laptop computer (the hospital wouldn't let me keep theirs) and suggested that every night, and sometimes during the day, I should write everything that I did that day. It would help my memory, she told me, because I could go over previous day's activities repeatedly. She pointed out wryly that I had plenty of time on my hands. 

So I began to keep a diary. At the beginning it took me a long time to write, but soon I became more adept at typing. Just as well, for my writing was very poor indeed: my co-ordination was all to pot. As my typing became more fluent and the pain in my hands decreased, I moved from only describing actions to discussing motives and making conjectures.

I have kept my diary ever since, a few minutes each night, and it is to that diary and the contributions of others you owe my story.

Initially Trish did my shopping but began to suggest that I try to do it myself. Now I was visiting the hospital twice a week and I hated the short journey there. It was hard work on crutches, and I longed to be able to shield my face; I was embarrassed and ashamed of it. The expressions on people's faces when they looked at me: disgust, fear and worst of all pity, all reinforced those feelings. So I contrived to stay at home. It was Trish who tried everything to get me out, I suspected so that I would get used to the stares. The hours she spent over me! 

It was ironic that I strove so hard in every other aspect of my rehabilitation while trying to duck that one aspect of it.

Trish and I talked about all sort of things but I would often bring the conversation back to one thing. I would complain and moan that apart from her there was no one who would ever want to live with me, marry me or even have a fling, unless they were in some sense perverted. She would sigh her disagreement and change the subject.

One day she snapped. 

"I'm sick of hearing you moaning on about being ugly. You guys might look only at women's bodies but most girls are attracted to the sort of guy a bloke is. You are a nice man, Aled. The other nurses admired you, you have guts and determination and some of them fancied you. Why? For your qualities: you were thoughtful, considerate, gentle with them but hard on yourself, single minded, driving yourself hard."

I smiled wryly. "Oh, yeah? Did you see how that check-out girl looked at me at the supermarket? She was repulsed."

"OK," she said decisively. "It's obvious you have no confidence. You don't believe what I say. You've been having therapy. Tomorrow night we begin some different therapy."

I groaned. Therapy was the excruciatingly hard work at the rehab centre twice a week, and self-inflicted for the rest of the time. It hurt like hell and wore me out.

"Don't knock my therapy until you've tried it!" she said smiling as she left for work.

That night she arrived at the flat in her raincoat. It was April. When she took it off, which unusually she did in front of me, she revealed what she was wearing underneath. Not much as it happened.

Her hair was piled high on her head. She wore a tee shirt with a deep 'V' at the front which was cropped to finish just under her breasts. It was sheer, silky, semi-transparent red material and under it, quite visible, was a black half-cup, 'push-up' bra. Her navel was pierced, her skin toned and her waist exquisitely shaped -- those smooth curves! The pleated micro-skirt was just long enough to cover her behind. No stockings or tights but three inch high heels completed the outfit. She twirled for me, her skirt flared out and her black lacy French-cut knickers flashed me.

There was a stirring and a growing down below. 

Don't get me wrong, I had 'discovered' my penis and its potential for giving me pleasure and cheering me up, though I tend to think there is something instinctive in that! Trish had also rented DVDs, some of which were of explicit sex. She never spoke of them and I never commented on their content. 

"Am I making any sort of impression?" she asked sarcastically.

"Oh yes, Trish. Definitely. Another twirl?"

She obliged. Her bum was so rounded, her cheeks peeking out below the panties! She was truly lovely.

"Now listen, Aled pet, what we do tonight and on future nights -- the therapy will take some repetition -- is strictly 'no strings'. I do not want a permanent relationship with you, not because of your face but because I don't do relationships. 

"We can have fun together and it won't do your confidence any harm at all. I'm doing this because I fancy you rotten. Don't forget, I've seen your prick at rest and standing to attention! This is partly selfish on my part. Speech over; time for action!"

I struggled to stand up, my erection proudly pushing out my trousers. She looked and smiled with what I began to hope was lust.

"Good! I notice there's nothing wrong with his short term memory! He hasn't forgotten what he's for!"

She walked ahead of me into the bedroom, her hips swaying. I reckoned she was putting it on for my benefit but I was not complaining. As soon as we were by the bed she twirled again -- another glimpse of those hidden knickers -- and dropped to her knees in front of me. With all the alacrity of a hedonistic nurse, she undid, unzipped and pulled my trousers down, following them with my briefs, carefully working them over my erection. Then she stood and lifted off my tee shirt. I stood nude save for my socks in all my mutilated glory.

"Sit on the bed," she ordered, though gently. 

She removed my socks. Now I was completely naked and my turgid prick was standing tall, urgently begging for attention. 

"You know what to do?" she asked, as she shimmied her French knickers down her thighs and unclipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

I nodded, gazing for the first time at her closely cropped pudenda with rapt admiration. I was probably dreaming but I could have sworn she blushed.

"The basics," I said.

"That's all we need this time," she laughed as she crawled onto the bed and lay down, spreading her legs wide and giving me an unrestricted view of her pussy. Her outer lips covered the inner folds but I could see they were enlarged with expectation of what was to follow. There was a sheen of dampness along the slit.

"Come on then," she ordered briskly. "For now just stick it in and see if you can fuck me. Don't worry; just do your own thing." 

She hadn't taken off her top and in a way that was even more erotic.

I got on the bed and knelt between her legs. It hurt my knees even on the softness of the duvet, but I persevered, who wouldn't? She was looking at me expectantly rather than lustfully. 

I put my hands on her knees and froze. The sensation of her skin was mesmerising, so soft and yet tight and firm. Some say the skin of the inner thigh is the softest on the body, and my hands were stroking up hers. It was the nearest thing to ecstasy I knew. I stroked down to her crotch and up again to her knees, over and over again.

"Oh Trish," I breathed, "the feel of your skin! It's heaven!" 

My stroking had had an effect: her eyes were closed and a sigh escaped her (upper) lips. So I carried on until, as I reached her vulva for the umpteenth time, her hand snaked out and took mine. She guided it into her cleft and, taking my finger, traced round and round a little knob. She let go and I continued the routine, but soon I wanted to explore further and slipped the finger along her crease to the other end, where I found that place where the men on the DVDs pushed in their huge bald cocks into the women's gaping bald pussies. 

I didn't push my finger in, but retraced its path to stroke the other way, discovering there were inner lips. It triggered a memory of a DVD where a woman lay with her vulva open to inspection. I reached her little knob and circled it again until she cried out and began to convulse.

"Oh yes!" she cried. "Now Aled, now!"

What did she mean? Fuck her, or was it simply appreciation?

She clarified. She grabbed my prick and pulled it towards her sex. I followed -- no choice really -- trying to ignore the twinges in my knees. She lined me up and I pushed in, stretching out my legs. That felt better. Another breathtaking experience! The feel of the walls of her warm moist sheath as I began to move! I was rapt in the sensation, slowly moving within her to and fro, to and fro. My eyes had been closed the whole time, and when I opened them I was looking into hers. She was laughing gently.

"Aled, you are the sort of lover every girl wants! You appreciate every sensation so much, and you move slowly; you stroke, but for now please speed up."

I smiled with a hint of embarrassment as I tried to find a painless way to fuck her. I raised myself on my arms, and as I speeded up my thrusting there was that familiar gathering. I slowed to make it last longer, speeded up again getting myself to the edge, then backing off, until at last I had to take it over the brink and I came, shuddering and gasping for breath.

I kissed her, and she kissed back.

"I never expected to have an orgasm first time with you," she said appreciatively, "and your fucking is the best. It's usually 'wham, bam, thank you mam'. Even when I stay the night, most blokes don't seem to know the first thing about the female orgasm."

"So, are we going to have more therapy?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh yes! And for the time being I'm going to swear off other blokes. By the way," she added, "all the blokes I've been with have worn condoms."

"But not me?"

"Aled, I know you've not been with anyone for nearly three years, so I know you're clean. We can do it bareback and it feels great!"

"Trish, they reckon I'm in my mid-forties and you're in your twenties. Aren't I too old for you?"

"As I said Aled," she winked at me, "this is no strings sex and I don't care about your age, you're good at it."

She stayed the whole night in my bed. The following morning there was more therapy.

Over the next few weeks she would come round often and we'd have sex.

The pain in my knees began to decrease. I put it down to the sanctifying effect of the missionary position. In addition to the actual fucking, I would do what came naturally, and without remembering anything I did it correctly. I liked stroking her back. She liked it. I liked nibbling her ears. She liked it. I massaged her feet. She loved it. The backs of her knees? Great! Her armpits. Superb! This in addition to the usual things, breasts, lips, vulva, arse, buttocks. I was in heaven. It struck me later that I had been lucky enough to have been a virgin twice!

She complimented me all the time. What a great lover I was! I must have made some woman very happy, she enthused.

Two things resulted from this. 


The Way Back Ch. 01



One, I started to do my own shopping. It took a long time, shuffling on my crutches, but I persevered. I got out more and more. I went to a rock concert with her, to the pictures and to pubs with her friends. 

I discovered that after the first flinch and pitying look, I was accepted as normal. 

Two, I began to wonder about my life before. Was I in a relationship? Married? Good heavens, children? Did I have a job? What was it? Was I rich or poor?

However, I wasn't going anywhere was I? Not without two sticks anyway.

After weeks of haggling I had got the usual social security allowances for a cripple and it enabled me to pay my way. As far as her friends were concerned we were an 'item', and neither of us had any inclination to tell them otherwise.

I continued to get better physically. I graduated to one stick but that was as far as I got. My damaged knees would give way suddenly and I needed the support. My ankles strengthened.

As Christmas approached I wondered where Trish would go, but she told me (again) she had no family in Britain; they were all in New Zealand. So we had a quiet Christmas together. She dragged me to Mass, of which I could make neither head nor tail, cooked a superb goose and we got pleasantly tipsy with a few friends of hers in the evening. Then, after a riotous party at New Year we were back to normal life again.

However my memory seemed to be stuck, and depression set in half way through January. Mind you, the weather didn't help, cold, grey and wet. Where was this thing they called snow?



------ 

TWO

Towards the end of January, two years and five months after the mugging, memories began returning, mainly of childhood. I kept coming back to the idea of Manchester. 

On Tuesday 27th January (I noted the date in my 'diary'), I awoke and I knew; I knew who I was. Allan Jonsson, from a place called Sale, near Manchester. 

I just knew I had a wife, though I couldn't remember what she looked like or her name. I also believed I had children, though I could not remember how many or their names. I think I had remembered bits of that before but was unable to process it or to remember it later.

I was about to tell Trish. but something stopped me. I needed to think. Trish went off to work and I sat down to think. I had been here for over two years but my wife had not been near me. Perhaps our marriage was unhappy. Perhaps she had divorced me. In any case she would hardly want to start again with me in the state I was in. I didn't want her to see me and then for me to know that she was revolted by me. I needed to find out more before approaching her. But how? More immediately I would have to tell Trish.

That evening after the evening meal that I had prepared, I sat her down on the sofa and prepared myself. She looked intrigued.

"Something happened?" she asked with a nervous smile.

"Before I start, will you promise to do nothing about what I'm going to tell you?" I asked earnestly.

She looked startled, then a smile spread across her face. 

"You've remembered!" she said triumphantly.

"Will you promise?"

"It's big, isn't it?" her smile was broader.

"Trish, for the last time, or I won't tell you. Promise?"

She looked contrite. 

"Yes, Aled," she said, and waited.

"It's not Aled," I said with a straight face.

She actually squealed, something I'd never heard her do before, I least I didn't think so. "You've remembered! Well?"

"It's Allan Jonsson."

She flung her arms round me and hugged me hard while avoiding my tender bits. 

"Two Ls two Ss no H! One of your earliest memories. I'm so glad," she whispered, "but why keep it secret? What's the problem?"

"I've remembered something else. I think I have a wife and children."

Trish stopped smiling and looked puzzled. 

"So? Now you can find them. We can find out where you lived before the accident. You can go home."

"It wasn't an accident, Trish."

"No," she corrected herself. "The attack. But what's stopping you?"

"Has it ever struck you that no one came looking for me? It's over two years, Trish, two long years. If you were married and your husband suddenly disappeared, what would you do?"

"Contact the police and the hosp... Oh hell!"

"Exactly. So there's got to be a reason why she didn't do that. Perhaps our marriage was in trouble. Perhaps we were in the process of divorcing. There may be other reasons but the fact remains she didn't bother to look for me."

"Perhaps you're right. Perhaps you did have a lousy marriage."

"And there's another reason I don't want to go rushing to her even if I knew who she was."

"Which is?"

"Look at me, Trish. You've never known me to look different. But my wife? I couldn't bear to rush back to her loving arms if that's what they are, only to see her shrink away from the monster I've become. If she did take me back I'd never know whether it was out of pity or love."

"Most women--" 

"I know, you see past the outside, but she may not be like that. I want to feel my way a little."

The next morning, I thought I might have been in computing. Did I work for someone? I had a feeling I worked in a smallish company. I told Trish.

"It's taken its time coming, but I think your memory is starting to connect," she said.

She was delighted and kissed me vigorously before going off to work.

When she returned she had a look of triumph on her face. 

"I got the use of a computer at work and looked up the electoral rolls for Sale. I know the address you live at, and do you want to know your wife's name?"

That got my interest. 

"Go on," I said.

"She's called Ann." 

It didn't ring a bell but I accepted it.

"My children?" I asked.

"There is a girl called Greta. Any others must either have left home, or be too young to appear on the register." 

I smiled at her happy and triumphant face and pulled her to me for a kiss.

"Thank you my darling."

I was now convinced that it would be in Manchester that I would find more answers. 

"I need to go," I said.

"You're right," she said. "Take the risk. Go and see. If you like I'll take you in the car. It's a long way by train and you're nowhere near a hundred percent. I've got three days owing me and at this time of year no one else is away; I can make it next week."

I was grateful for that: I had been dreading making the journey alone. Trish booked us into a Premier Inn near Sale for three nights. The time available for our search was too short, for she had to be back at work and I had my therapy. The Pelican was an old inn, over a hundred years old, but it was more of a motel round the back. 

So it was that on the following Monday we arrived in my old hometown. I recognised all sorts of landmarks as we travelled south along the A56, Washway Road: a bakery, and the site of the doctor's surgery when I was a small child. 

We crossed a small bridge and there on the other side of the bridge was the hotel, its front bathed in the late afternoon sun. We checked in and went to our room. I put down the bags and began to unpack. When I turned round, Trish was naked and lying on the bed.

"Come on," was all she said. I stripped and lay by her side.

It may have been February outside, and cold, but the room was pleasantly warm and we did not need covers. Trish lay on her side facing me and I did the same for her. She traced a pattern over my shoulder and down my arm, stopping at each scar while she kissed my lips. Then down my side and over my hip until she could reach no further. She touched my cock and balls, feather light. She smiled and waited.

I did the same on her body, stopping at the same places she had, and kissing her in my turn. When I got to the end of my reach I traced inside her thigh and stroked her bush just as lightly. All the while we gazed into each other's eyes and drank the love we found there.

She brought her fingers to my face and traced a pattern over my sunken cheeks and misshapen nose, drawing at length over my lips and down my chin. It was an acceptance of my damaged state and a love of me as I was. 

I repeated the pattern on her face, but when I reached her lips she could not resist opening her mouth and sucking my fingers in, licking them with her tongue, while I caressed the inside of her lips. She groaned -- the first noise to be made -- and her hand encircled my cock, which had risen with the eroticism of the situation, and then stroked me up and down but so lightly that the sensation was as intense as any I had experienced. My groan answered hers as she sucked on my fingers three of which were now in her mouth.

I felt her thigh move. She rolled onto her back and, leaving my sensitised cock, she pulled me over her.

Her hand returned to my cock and aligned me to her. 

"Right in, lover," she whispered as she lifted her hips.

Sometimes penetration is so hurried and lustful that one hardly notices the feeling of that first moment of entry. Not this time. I entered her female need with infinite slowness, feeling each inch of progress intently. I did it for me but she wanted it for herself as well. She held my hips and kept my progress under her control. She constantly changed the angle of her hips to feel me in every undulation of her centre; every crevice and cranny was worshipped.

Then I felt the end of her channel. Our eyes were still locked on each other.

"Now," she said.

I began to move slowly outwards until nearly free of her, before pushing in again. She sighed and rotated her hips to catch my hardness with her button as I pushed gently into her. We moved for some minutes, and then she began to roll me off her, taking me with her, so that she was on top. She sat straight up and continued the rhythm we had established, rolling her hips in circles to touch every part of her with my cock, as all the while she traced the scars on my chest with one hand while rubbing herself off with the other. 

"I can't... I got to... Oh!" and suddenly she came, falling forward onto me. After a moment she rolled under me and rolled her hips up. 

"Now you," she whispered. "Do it."

I began to repeat what we had done before but she pushed my bottom into her and growled, "Harder and faster, lover."

I speeded up and got into my favourite rhythm. It did not take long before I felt that gathering and muttered, "Coming!" 

It was almost painful in its intensity, every muscle in my body was tight with the tension I felt as I crested my peak and my juice was ejaculated forcefully into her. I could not breathe while the semen squirted from me. 

In my turn I collapsed onto her. I rested on my forearms and we stared at each other in wonder. We said nothing; we smiled into each other's eyes, and inside her I stayed for a good five minutes before my wilting erection slipped from her. I moved to her side, she cuddled into me and we slept.

It was dark when we awoke. We ate in the hotel and went for a short walk round the district in the dark. Some of it seemed familiar but that was as far as my memory went. 

However when we stood on the bridge next to the hotel, and looked down upon a small brook, I had a flash of memory. It was called Baguley Brook, and I remembered games we used to play by it and in it, fishing for minnows, finding frog spawn, wading in Wellington boots or bare feet in the water. The clarity of the memory surprised me.

We had a few drinks back at the hotel before going back to bed. We had ordinary, missionary position sex, as if we both tacitly agreed that a repeat of the intensity of the afternoon's activity was out of the question. 



------ 

THREE 

Tuesday morning dawned wet with light rain from a uniformly dark leaden sky, which threatened to penetrate our clothing as we hurried to the main hotel building from our room for breakfast.

"I thought we'd start by looking at the house I lived in and then wander about Sale town centre seeing what I remember," I offered.

Trish nodded. "Car?" she asked.

I nodded. "Too wet to wait for buses, and I sure there'll be plenty of walking to do."

She understood that my legs would not cope with standing or too much walking, and my arms would be painful from my stick or the crutches. I needed to pace things. 

Trish drove along a leafy road called Cherry Tree Lane and stopped near a large house. There was a 'For Sale' board outside and it had the look of an empty property, looking rather sad in the misty rain. It was unlike any of the other houses round it. They were built in the 1930s, and had a characteristic '30s' look, but this house was larger and much older, turn of the 19/20th century. 

It was a large tall detached house, three storeys, with a huge garden. Whereas all the other houses faced the street in long rows, this one was at about thirty degrees to the road and set much further back from it. We drove up the drive to the front of the house and got out to look at the place. A older woman came out of the house next door. Trish went to her.

"Has it been empty long?" she asked her.

"Couple of months, I suppose," the woman answered. "Mrs Jonsson's gone to live with her fiancé. Her husband left her a couple of years ago. I think she was glad to get out of the house: too many memories."

We got back in the car.

"Well, it seems your marriage was going downhill," said Trish after she relayed the information. "She must be getting a divorce if she's engaged to some bloke."

I felt betrayed and angry, though since I knew little or nothing about my wife -- or ex-wife. I realised the feeling was ridiculous. 

"Let's go into town," I said, and settled back into the seat.

The drizzle had stopped, but everything was damp as we walked the streets of Sale, or rather the street, there being only one main street. Rather, Trish walked and I hobbled, but I was used to that by now. There were still twinges as I moved my legs, taking the weight on my stick, but the twinges were minimal compared with the early days.

I was about to get my big break. We turned the corner of School Road near the Town Hall and she laughed at the names of the solicitors on the board outside the corner offices.

"Look at that," she said, "Crook and Lombard. I think I'd prefer to deal with a Lombard than a Crook."

I stopped dead. 

"Lombard?" I said. "It's familiar and so is this corner but I don't know why. I feel I should know the name."

"Come on," said Trish eagerly, "let's see if he knows you."

I was reluctant. It seemed cheeky to be taking up a solicitor's time on a whim but Trish was already entering the premises. She had no fear.

A receptionist sat in a small room at the foot of some stairs. In fact it was little more than a hallway. She had a fan heater to keep at bay the cold draughts which assailed her every time the door to the street opened. She shivered. She was a pretty girl; I noticed.

"May I help you?" she asked after the obligatory shocked look at my face and her attempt to conceal it.

Trish spoke for me. 

"Would it be possible to see Mr Lombard?"

The girl consulted the diary in front of her. 

"He's with someone at the moment but if you can wait, he'll be free afterwards."

"We'll wait."

"If you go up the stairs," she looked at me. "I'm sorry we don't have a lift. The door on the left at the top is a waiting room. I'll let him know you're waiting when he's finished with his client. Whom shall I say?"

"O'Toole," said Trish, shooting me a warning look as I began to give my name. I closed my mouth.

Trish helped me up the stairs and we thankfully collapsed onto the comfortable chairs of the waiting room. 

"I don't want Mr Lombard to know your name. Better he find out from us, then we can see his reaction." 

I had to admire her tactics.

There were the usual outdated magazines in a pile on the coffee table but also a selection of the day's papers, and we settled to read, lit by a single light bulb which bravely sought to counter the dimness of the outdoors. Half an hour later the door opened. As soon as the man entered, I knew I ought to know him. 

"David Lombard," he greeted us and shook our hands. "Please come with me to my office." 

He smiled and led the way.

"What can I do for you, Mr and Mrs O'Toole?" he asked once we were seated.

"We're not married. My friend here has survived a vicious mugging, as you can see, but his memory is seriously impaired. He lived here before the incident and we're trying to rebuild his memory. Your name rang a bell with him. This is Allan Jonsson. Do you know him?"

David Lombard's reaction was interesting. He looked shaken and then there was a long silence as he studied my face. 

Then, "Needless to say, you look nothing like Allan," he said and waited.

"I had my face re-arranged by the muggers," I said quietly, "and most of the rest of my body as well. Patricia can tell you the whole story of my recovery. I only remembered my name last week. I knew I came from Sale. I knew I had a wife and children, but that memory only came back an even shorter while ago. A few childhood memories have come back."

"I recognise something in your voice, but you don't really sound exactly like him," said David.

"They got my voice box as well but that's healed."

"I don't buy it," David Lombard said. "When Allan disappeared we checked the hospitals. Nothing. The police came up with nothing; it was only the Private Investigator who found out what really happened. Allan went off with another woman, though we've not been able to trace him or her. The PI reckoned they'd gone abroad."

"That's ridiculous!" exclaimed Trish. "He was in a deep coma for six months! Then it took more months for him to come to what most would call adequate consciousness. If anyone had contacted Newcastle General looking for a missing person, they would have been told."

"Newcastle?" David looked perplexed. "He disappeared from York."

"Allan was admitted on the twenty-fourth of August two and a half years ago," said Trish with exaggerated patience. "Someone reported three men in a red car getting a body out of the boot and dropping in on some waste ground and then driving off. The witness called an ambulance. If it hadn't been a warm dry night he wouldn't have survived at all. As it was he was the worst injury case we ever saw. No one we could remember ever survived injuries like his. 

"No one came looking for him, and no one inquired. Since he remembered he was married, we've assumed his marriage was in trouble and his wife didn't care."

"The date fits exactly," he mused. Then he stiffened. 

"Look, I am Allan's solicitor and friend. I'm sorry but I need proof. I have documents which bear his thumbprint. Would you be prepared to be finger-printed at the police station?"

"Yes, of course," I replied. "They took my face and voice away, and broke my hands among other things, but the prints are intact."

"Good," he said and picked up the phone. "Is DCI Sinnott in?" he asked after identifying himself. 

"Colin, I've got a good one for you. Could you bend the rules and fingerprint someone for me and then see if there are any matching prints on a document I have here? 

"Good. We'll be round." Fortunately the police station was close by.

I seemed to know the plain-clothes policeman who met us at the door but no name came to me. I assumed it was DCI Sinnott, whatever DCI might mean. 

"Who is this?" he asked David.

"Can you leave his identity until after the results of the test?"

"OK," sighed Sinnott, "another of your games?"

We went in and I was fingerprinted. The young policeman who did it then took the prints and a couple of documents that David gave him and disappeared. We waited in the interview room. Half an hour later DCI Sinnott returned looking puzzled.

"Allan?" he queried looking closely at me. "God, man, you've been in the wars. Bloody Hell! This is going to upset a lot of people round here."




The Way Back Ch. 01



"I'm sorry, Mr. Sinnott," I said, "Colin is it? I feel I should know you but at present I don't."

Trish explained about the memory loss.

"Allan," interrupted David, "I'm very sorry I doubted you. You understand I was acting in your own interest?"

I nodded. 

"Gentlemen," I declared, "I must ask you to keep my identity confidential. Can I rely on you both not to talk of this to anyone?"

"Of course," said David, "but there's your wife -- I mean your ex... Oh dear. You'd better come back to my office with me. Colin you can keep his secret can't you?"

"Yes," he answered, "but Allan, have they found who did this to you?"

"Northumberland police reckon it was a gang of muggers; that I probably resisted and they kicked hell out of me. There was a red car involved, and that doesn't tie in with an opportunist attack. Someone saw three men get me out of the car and dump me on some waste ground. There have been no leads."

"I may contact the force and see what they have."

"Fine. I don't think they know my name yet. The hospital staff called me Aled Jones -- don't ask! By the way, what does DCI mean?"

"Detective Chief Superintendent," he replied. "Memory gone?"

I nodded.

We returned to David's office, and I had to make the tedious journey up those narrow stairs again. David saw my pain and was sorry. 

"Thoughtless of me," he apologised.

We sat down. David thought for a moment. 

"Would you both like to come to ours for dinner?" he asked. "It's going to take a long time to sort all this out. A lot has been happening and you need to know everything. Can you tell me why you don't want Ann contacted? Or the children?"

"From what I gather she's living with someone else now. Is she happy?"

"Yes, as far as I can tell. I know they intend to marry in May once the Decree Absolute has been granted. The children don't like him, but that's par for the course with putative step-parents."

"I know this will be hard for you to understand, David, but I don't know Ann. I know she's -- she was married to me, but I can't remember what she looks like or anything about her. I only knew she existed a few days ago. I don't think it's fair to saddle her with guilt that she's moved on and was wrong about me, or that I'm in this state and she's left me to suffer alone, not that I am quite alone." I glanced at Trish and smiled. The look was not lost on David. 

"Enough for now," David said, "I don't want to tire you out." 

He picked up the phone again, and while waiting he asked, "Is it all right for Vivienne to know who you are?"

"Who's Vivienne?"

"Sorry, sorry," he looked embarrassed, "I keep forgetting that you have a memory problem; though looking at you, I can't think why I should ever forget it. Viv. is my wife. You always got on very well with her."

"If she can keep a secret, fine; otherwise no."

"She can," he asserted, and he phoned her. "Viv? Can we manage two visitors for dinner tonight, it really is very important."

"All will be revealed when we get there. I'll leave the office early."

"Love you too!" and he hung up. "She muttered about cloak and dagger but she's very forgiving. Shall we say six?"

"Fine," I answered. "Where do you live?"

He apologised again and gave me an address in Hale. I asked for a map and he sketched one out and wrote instructions. 

"This all seems very odd," he smiled, giving it to Trish.

"Before you go we need to apply for a new driving license for you," he said. 

We went and got a photo taken and he filled in the form and got me to sign it. All was done at the receptionist's desk to save me climbing the stairs again. He verified the photos and he asked the girl to post it, next day delivery.

"It seems you have a lot to learn and we can start tonight," said David.

It was mid afternoon and I was bushed, so Trish drove us back to the hotel, where I collapsed and slept for a couple of hours.



------ 

FOUR 

We arrived at the house by a circuitous route occasioned by my misreading David's instructions, but we were not late. David opened the door and issued us into the large and tastefully decorated and furnished living room, where stood a very attractive woman about my age. I assumed it was David's wife. At first she looked at me with horror and disbelief then expectation and finally her face showed disappointment.

"This is Vivienne, Allan," David said gently.

"Hello, Vivienne," I said.

Vivienne looked at me a little longer as I waited. Then tears came to her eyes. 

"Well," she said at last with a sniff, "David said your face was different. That was an understatement! I'm so sorry, Allan." 

I grinned my lop-sided grin at her and shrugged my shoulders.

"And this is Patricia O'Toole, Viv. Pat -- Vivienne," David said, making the introductions.

The two woman touched hands briefly and I could see Vivienne was not happy with my girlfriend.

Greetings and introductions over, we sat down at two sides of a coffee table. David offered drinks and I asked for a beer. Trish asked for a tonic since she was driving.

"So Allan," Vivienne said, "David told me something of what happened. I'm very sorry."

I smiled and shrugged again. 

"Trish is a nurse at Newcastle General," I told her, "She knows more about my recovery than I do. I was not really aware in the early days, and I forgot practically everything as soon as I knew it for a long while. Still do. I have to have a notebook and a personal recorder to remind me of things, or I rely on Trish here. I have a computer and keep a diary. I go back over previous days again and again. It helps my memory."

Trish then began to outline the whole story from my admission to hospital, through the operations and my eventual coming slowly to consciousness. 

"He's obsessive and obstinate about his recovery and he's worked so hard. It's a miracle he's come this far, and it's down to a lot of pain and hard work," she said with pride.

"Will you improve further?" Vivienne asked me.

"I certainly hope so. Yes, I'm sure of it, I try without the stick for part of each day, but I don't think my face will get any better." 

"You two an item?" Viv asked.

"Yes, at the moment; Trish is a no strings person." 

Vivienne frowned. Trish began to look aggressive.

"Vivienne!" snapped David. "He only knew he had a wife and children two weeks ago. Anyway, from a throwaway remark I made, he knows he doesn't really have a wife any more. Patricia was a nurse at the hospital and took him in when he had no one." 

Vivienne coloured and was quiet; Trish relaxed and smiled.

I asked that we talk about other things until after the meal, and that's what we did. We talked about nursing, about Trish's family in New Zealand, about Newcastle and many other things. David told Trish about the origins of the small towns that are Sale and Altrincham, now subsumed into the sprawl that is Greater Manchester.

After the meal we settled in the living room. I prepared myself for a history lesson, mine!

"David," I said to get things started on the right foot, "talk to me as if you're telling a stranger about Allan Jonsson. If you keep that in mind I won't have to keep on stopping you with questions."

"Good idea," he said.

"And if you don't mind," I added, "I'd like to record what you say on this Personal Recorder thing."

I produced a recorder that Trish had bought for me, out of my pocket. He nodded.

"Before I start," he asked, "I think Trish said you had nothing on you when you were admitted to hospital?"

"That's right," said Trish.

"Well, now you know who you are, can I suggest we move quickly and get full copies of your birth certificate, marriage certificate, then a passport. Also you should go private and get DNA evidence."

"Why?"

"Your facial reconstruction. We may have legal problems if you can't remember things and you are clearly not sufficiently like your original photos. You could be an impostor trying to get his hands on your money. The DNA evidence, along with those fingerprints, can be used to prove that you are your children's father, and that will confirm your identity -- only if the worst comes to the worst," he added as he saw me stiffen: he hadn't forgotten I wanted to keep my identity secret.

"Have I a driving licence?" I asked, intrigued, and forgetting we had already put a new license in train. "And also, exactly how old am I?"

"Oh, yes, you've got a licence with, I suppose, your original photo, but it's disappeared. I'll countersign your passport photo and we did the driving licence at the office. I can tell you that you are 41 years old. Just sign this piece of paper would you?"

I didn't quibble but did what he asked. He looked at it and then at some documents he drew out of his case.

"Well," he said, "I suppose it's near enough. It is two plus years, and you have had brain injury." 

What he meant was that there was little or no resemblance! I said as much and he nodded with a ruthful smile.

"Why do I need all this?" I was mystified.

"Well I better start on your history, and it should become clear." 

He settled back in his chair and began.

"You were born in Altrincham on the 23rd March 1962. Your grandfather came to Britain from Sweden long before you were born. Apparently he had a major bust up with his brother. His brother bought him out of the family firm in Sweden so he was able to start afresh. 

He married here, a Swedish girl strangely, and your father was the only child of the marriage. Your father married another Swedish woman -- how they met is a mystery -- and carried on the family business, selling tools and parts for car maintenance. 

"You completed a physics degree at Manchester University, first class, and then did two years' research to get your Master's. It was in your last year that your mother was killed in an road accident. Your father went to pieces I'm afraid. He sold the business, put all the profit into a trust fund for you, and I'm sorry to tell you this, he took an overdose and died. So though you might have relatives in Sweden you have none here.

"You went into computing, working on dedicated processors for machinery, and started your own business with the money your father left, and it took off. You knew the market and you supplied to fill a niche. You recruited a friend from university to work for you, Geoffrey Bucklow, and the business expanded. Geoff became Managing Director and you, very generously in my view, formed a Limited Company and allowed Geoff to buy in as a partner. 

Geoff bought 15% of the company paying in instalments, and in fact the profits from the firm allowed him to pay off in record time. He now has 20%. You have the other 80%. You were the one with a talent for sales and contracts, and you went all over the world selling the firm's electronic expertise and its bespoke products. Don't ask me what they were, but they have been appreciated by the buyers. The company is very profitable and this might shock you, but Allan you are a millionaire several times over."

I was indeed shocked! 

Trish smiled happily, "Oh brilliant!" she exclaimed.

Vivienne interrupted, "You've not said anything about his marriage." 

I wondered what Vivienne read into Trish's reaction to the news. I suspected the words 'gold digger' were in there somewhere.

"No," David explained, "I wanted to get the finance thing out of the way, but you do that bit now if you wish."

"You married Ann Drayton a year before the company was set up, as you were finishing your Master's," said Vivienne, "She was and is a very attractive woman. She met you about eighteen months before while you were doing your masters. As far as the rest of us were concerned you were both were very happy together, right up to the moment you disappeared, Allan. 

"The children were balanced and healthy. Oh, yes, the children. There's Greta, she's seventeen; Jan is thirteen and Stefan is ten. They've suffered a lot since you went. It was very strange. One day you were all a happy family, seemingly without a care in the world, and the next there was chaos. Just as well Derek was there for her or I don't know what she'd have done."

"Three children?" I asked, with some surprise, "Two boys?"

She nodded.

"This Derek," I asked. "He's the man she's going to marry?"

"That's right," she answered. "Derek Fanshaw. I think the wedding is set for May. He got divorced and you both helped him a lot. He was round at your place for dinner quite often after his breakup. I know you took him out for drinks a lot. He was very cut up about his divorce; his wife took him to the cleaners. I think that's why he wanted to help Ann so much, repay your kindness, you know."

David took up the story. 

"Back to the money. This bit's important. One day, early on in your marriage, I think you only had Greta at the time though Ann may have been carrying Jan, you arrived at the office with Ann and Geoff. 

"Geoff was concerned about your safety in some of the countries you visited, you know, kidnappings, hostage taking and the like. You all wanted the company protected to keep the employees' jobs intact. You wanted to leave the company to Ann, but she didn't like that idea at all. She asked about Powers of Attorney, where a person signs over the handling of his affairs to another person, usually in case of illness. You obviously had a will, but this was to cover the eventuality you would not be here while still alive somewhere else.

"The upshot was that you and Ann signed an agreement that I would be responsible for the company to you alone, Allan. When you were absent I would have power of attorney over your business and financial affairs, obviously coordinating with Geoff who would actually run the place. 

"I was obliged under the terms of the arrangement to protect the integrity of the company at all costs, to ensure that Ann and the children were well looked after and to be your representative. The only way I would be relieved of that responsibility would be upon your death or if you and Ann both revoked it in person. 

"Then you wanted to give half of your ownership to Ann but she would hear none of it: she didn't want the responsibility. Are you following this Allan?"

I was trying to keep up but I was getting tired. 

"Only just," I grinned, "but it's all recorded; I can go over it until it's clear later."

"OK. We now know what's happened to you, but you'll understand we didn't before. So I'm going to tell you what's happened from our unknowing point of view, what we were told and what we thought was true.

"Geoff will tell you what you went to York for -- and you did go to York, not Newcastle. I think you were meeting a client who was over from the continent for the races. Geoff said you got a good deal out of him; the paperwork came through later. You phoned Ann normally that night and told her you were finished there, but the next day you did not come home. Ann phoned the hotel to be told that you and 'the lady' had left. Ann was surprised and asked her name. Mrs Alsvik I think it was. Ring any bells?"

I shook my head. "No, but that's not surprising."

"You didn't return home. Not then, nor the next day. There was no answer from your mobile though she tried it hourly, and you always left it on while you were away. You had disappeared. The next step was the police. They said they would wait another day, and to be fair they did initiate an investigation. But you were an adult and it was a missing person investigation, so low priority. That's when Derek stepped in and hired a PI."

"PI?" I enquired.

"Private Investigator. Derek was round at the house every day and stayed every evening, though Ann was at pains to let us know that he always went home to sleep. He was, after all, divorced and lived on his own. The report came through remarkably quickly. Allan had left the hotel with a woman. The PI managed to get photos from the CCTV footage, showing you and she in a close embrace in the hotel foyer, another of you both leaving the hotel with baggage. 

"The man found out that you were headed to York Station where he again got pictures from CCTV of you both at the booking office. We don't know any more details. Perhaps his brief was simply to find out where you'd gone. He obviously failed because there was no talk about where you had gone with this woman.

"Ann went downhill fast. We all tried to rally round. She was totally bemused by the fact that she had not detected any changes in your attitude to her or the children. You were always meticulous about telling her where you were and it seemed out of character. We now know what happened, but how you got to Newcastle, well that's a mystery.

"Derek was very good and very patient. She wouldn't let go of the idea that you would come back to her once you'd had your fling. Then, last March I think it was, she became very angry and very bitter. She told us that you were never coming back; that she knew then you'd been having an affair for years and now wanted a new life and for her to get on with her own. She never said how she 'knew' this.

"She came to me and asked me to handle the divorce. I had to tell her I couldn't do that, because I was under instruction from the Power of Attorney to act for you, Allan. She asked if the Power could be reversed, but I told her that it would have taken a long time. I explained that I was bound to fight any change in the orders I was acting under. 

"She was not happy. She accused me of knowing where you were and she would get the courts to find that out. I told her that if that were true I wouldn't have to act under obligation to the Power of Attorney. She didn't believe me, and we haven't been friends since. 

"Under the Power of Attorney I left the joint account you had open, but organised an account for her into which I put a very generous amount per month. I also covered the mortgage. I wrote to her officially to explain that if she needed more money I would furnish her with whatever she needed, but that the joint account still contained a sizeable fund if she needed money in an emergency. I could also make extra payments for special occasions, Christmas, holidays, birthdays etc. I explained that I am directed to be prudent but generous with such payments. There was no reply but she started using the new account, though she never touched the joint account, and in any case she had a well-paid job by then.

"Well, she started divorce proceedings last June. She cited unreasonable behaviour in that you had left her and was living with someone else. 

"Now this is where it becomes interesting. The court served the petition on me as your representative to be forwarded on. My idea was that to protect your interests I needed to delay matters while trying to find you. So I left it a couple of months, telling the court I was waiting for you to contact me since I did not know where you were. Then I told them I had organised a search for you. After another couple of months I told them you were nowhere to be found. So in late September last year, the case came up uncontested. I was still hoping you would contact me. I hated doing it to Ann but I had no choice under the terms of the order. 

"The next sticking point was how you would provide for the children and your access to them should you re-appear. Now the amount 'you' were giving Ann was more than enough for all their needs and then some, so I prevaricated over any increase in that. I was able to adduce evidence that you had set up a trust fund for their education and for setting them up in life after it. Again very generous, a lot more than a court would award. Ann opposed contact but eventually agreed that you should have access. This in itself took another couple of months, everything done in writing passing to and fro.

"Then, her solicitor wanted a huge settlement for Ann. By now she had her own job that was well paid but she said she wanted part of the company's equity. Now I had a really complicated case on my hands but I pointed out to Ann that the divorce could go through without the financial arrangements being finalised. She didn't believe me but her solicitor had to agree that it was the case. 




The Way Back Ch. 01



"Derek came to see me just before Christmas asking why I was being so awkward. There seemed to be an implication in what he said that I was acting fraudulently though I couldn't put a finger on it. 

"I explained that I had a legal obligation to fulfil and I could do no other. If he could find you, it would make things go a lot quicker. I had tried but had come up with nothing. I had actually long since got a PI in Sweden to find the Alsvik woman living with you. It's a Swedish surname, but it's quite a common name and he had not come up with anyone fitting your description. Hardly surprising!

"The arguments are still going on and it's my guess they'll get the courts involved soon. The Decree Nisi goes through this week but the financial settlement will run on. Ann wants half the company but I've pointed out that the most she could get would be half your share: 40%. To realise the assets she would have to get Geoff to agree to sell the company since I had told her that the terms I'm working under will not allow me to sell. I know Geoff won't sell. 

"I told her through her solicitor that the best she could hope for was a share in the business from which she could take her annual profit. Her solicitor thinks she could get the court to order the company to realise the assets to pay her, but I suspect they won't do that; it would be financial suicide. I've pointed out that she's getting a very generous allowance per month, and this could not be paid if the company went bankrupt because the court was realising the assets. I also appealed to her sense of justice; fifty people's jobs were on the line. It surprised me that this cut no ice with her. 

"On reflection I think she didn't believe me. At the time I thought that the break up with you had made her so bitter she no longer cared about others. It saddened me but made me more determined to preserve as much as possible for you. I was also surprised that in all that time you had withdrawn no money from your current account.

"The Decree Absolute should come through in mid-March and then, though if you hadn't come back you wouldn't know it, you will be a single man again, and she will be free to marry. 

"At Christmas Derek and she announced they were engaged and would marry in May. In January we started to argue in earnest to adjudicate on the assets. As I say it will eventually have to go to court, I'm sure. In fact I'll make sure of it.

"Anyway, she came to me a few weeks ago and told me she had moved out of the house in Sale last October and is living with Derek. She asked if the house could be sold, and though I could see it stuck in her throat she wondered if she would get the proceeds. 

I told her that under any Divorce Agreement, since she no longer required it as the family home, she could expect half the value after expenses were deducted and the mortgage paid off. She looked disappointed but accepted it. Her brush with the legal system seems to have taken more of her assets than she wanted. She still wants to sell and so the house is on the market.

"The latest thing is that they are now challenging the Power of Attorney. I think the grounds are that you have not been in touch for over two years, and that it is unreasonable for me to be continuing in this position. 

"If successful they will be in a good position to take over half the company, since Ann is your next of kin, and will be until the Decree Absolute, and incidentally she is still the sole beneficiary under your will. I think that needs changing, don't you think? I was worried about the outcome but now you're here they haven't a chance. If the worst comes to the worst you will have to appear in court.

"Well I think that sums everything up," he concluded, "Not a happy state of affairs."

I wondered about this woman I had lived with for so many years. 

I asked, "This man, what's he like?"

"Nice enough bloke. Mild mannered. Quite obsessive. Very attentive to Ann, if anything he's got a jealous streak where she's concerned. Ann seems happy with him."

There was something else, I could tell. 

"And?"

"Well, he runs a building firm, and he's not the best businessman in the world. Not too good with paper work. He's in a bit of trouble; he overreached himself and cut some corners in some of the houses he built. He's likely to be sued. So I suspect he needs the money from the settlement or it won't be too long before he's bankrupt."

"How long?"

"A year at the most; he can dodge until then."

"This company of ours, are we doing well?"

"Yes indeed! Geoff is something of a genius. Very hands on in the workshop as you were. He's actually looking for someone to take care of Sales; that's his weak point. Things are just beginning to taper off. You used to take care of that side of things."

"Do I have other assets?"

"A large stocks and shares portfolio and of course the house. Oh yes, it's your house." 

"And you're selling it?"

"Technically yes, but I've felt reluctant; you really loved that house."

"Still do." I didn't know why I said that but it gave me an idea.

"She's moved out, hasn't she? We noticed it was empty and for sale, and you said she'd moved in with Derek."

"Yes, she's living with Derek in Hale Barns. He's got a big modern house there, living beyond his means. I warned her about him but she told me to mind my own business, so I do."

"She definitely wants the house sold?"

"Yes."

"Sell it. To me. Or do whatever it takes to transfer ownership to me outright. Market value plus some, then another very generous amount for the furnishing so she can't object it's not enough. She gets 60 per cent of the value from the house, and all the money from the valuation of the contents. You tell her you have to sell it furnished for that price. The 'buyer' insists she leaves everything as it is. Nothing to be touched. I want that house for myself. I'm sure it'll provoke memories."

"You'll need to change the locks," David said.

"So you're coming back to us Allan?" Vivienne interjected, "What's your plan with regard to Ann? When will you 'return'?"

I noticed Trish's expression; I thought she looked disappointed at the idea.

I was quiet for a moment. David waited patiently.

"No plans for Ann, Viv," I stated baldly, "We're divorced. Finish. 

"From a dispassionate point of view," I continued, "she doesn't seem to have made much of an effort to find me, and she's started living with someone else fairly quickly after my disappearance. I'm a bit miffed that she's been so quick to shack up with someone else. Doesn't say much for me or for our marriage."

"Allan, believe me, she was totally in love with you," interrupted Vivienne, "You had a great marriage."

"Well, you see my problem then. I don't know her or anything about her yet, though my memory will return, I'm sure of that. You say she loved me. So when I come back into her life, what happens? 

"She sees this disfigured, lame and let's face it, ugly man. She's with someone else, a damn sight better looking. It puts her in a terrible position. She seems to be in love with this man. What does she do? Whatever she does will make her feel guilty. I wouldn't be surprised if which ever way she jumped, it didn't ruin the relationship. Even if she came back to me and I remembered everything about her and fell in love with her again, I'd always be wondering if she was thinking about him, that she was wishing she'd chosen a whole man instead of a cripple. In any case, I certainly don't love her at the moment."

"So?" Vivienne asked, looking shocked at my last remark.

"I think we should hold off revealing my return for a while. It needs thinking about."

"The children don't like him at all, Allan; they'll want you back at all costs," said Vivienne, "And they are entitled to their real father."

"OK. Viv, that's enough for now; it's early days," said David wanting to move on, "Tomorrow Allan you need to visit your company, see Geoff and perhaps jog your memory a little bit more. He'll tell you what he's been doing while you've been away, and what you were doing before you left! The sooner we get you fully attested as yourself the sooner we'll be in a position to defend the company and the rest of your property."

"Will he keep me a secret?" I asked.

"Definitely. Totally reliable."

"So what do I do now?" I was somewhat at a loss. "If I come back to Sale, how do I live?"

"As I said, I have the power to release the money from your accounts until you can prove who you are. We can go over your accounts in detail later in the week. Until the house is yours I can easily find you a flat."

"We only have today and tomorrow. Trish has her work and I have therapy," I grimaced.

"Well there's no hurry. We can sort things out when you come back, but you should have a flat to live in when you're here until I can sort out the house."

"Do that then." 

I thought of the other obstacle in this plan he needed to know about. 

"David, there's another complication," I told him.

He looked worried. 

"Isn't it obvious David?" I said. "Ann isn't the only one in another relationship, is she?"

Light dawned. He looked at Trish.

"Don't worry about me, Allan," she hastened to say. "We'll find a way." 

I put my arm round her. 

"I'm very grateful for all you're doing for me, David." I told him.

"Don't be. We are friends, but you're also paying me very well for my services."

Trish and I expressed our gratitude and left, promising to meet David the next morning for our visit to the factory. Trish said she'd go shopping and then wait at the hotel.

We didn't speak at all on the way back. I was wondering about Trish's feelings. I thought her silence was significant. Once in the hotel room I had to clear it up.

"Trish," I said gently, "be honest with me. Where's our relationship going? You weren't happy with the talk of my moving back here."

She thought for a long moment. 

"OK," she said, "let me be totally up front with you. I love you. I love you as a dear friend and as a great bedmate. I know I'll always feel something special for you. 

"I'm enjoying our relationship, but if I'm realistic I know it can't be permanent. For one thing I'm too flighty, for another there is the age difference and for a third I can't see me staying in Britain for much longer. I want to join my parents and family in New Zealand now I've got a wider experience in nursing."

"You look so disappointed when I was talking of coming back here."

"It's all come about very quickly. I think it's because I'm not ready to let you go just yet. You're good for me; you've steadied me. I had this thought of you being with me for months yet, and here you are sorting out a house and flat to live in here. But you belong here Allan, not in Newcastle. Here is where you'll make progress with your memory, and while I think about it, you need to move your therapy here."

"You mean find another lover?" I asked with a glint in my eye.

"No!" she laughed. "You know what I mean: your hospital therapy."

"So we're OK?" I asked. "We can go on seeing each other, visiting each other, once I'm settled?"

"Oh. yes. I'm not letting go easily; we have a lot more loving to do!"

We undressed and climbed into bed together, but as soon as I hit the pillow I was asleep. It had been an exhausting day.



------ 

FIVE

I know it's most men's fantasy (well it's mine anyway) that they awake to a warm feeling on their cock and open their eyes to see their wife/girlfriend/girl-who-stayed-the-night, with the aforesaid cock deep in their mouths. 

For some it does come true, lucky sods, and I was a lucky sod that morning! Trish was kneeling at the end of the bed, leaning over me and sucking me gently into consciousness and my cock into life and looking lovingly into my opening eyes.

"Good morning!" that's what I think she said, though clear speech and a mouthful of penis do not go well together.

"Good morning!" I replied. "It's rude to talk with your mouth full."

She let my engorged cock fall from her lips, "Are you going to criticise or do you want me to bring you to some sort of conclusion?"

"Prefer a shag?" 

She nodded, scooted up the bed and impaled herself on my well-prepared member. She lost no time in getting into a rhythm, with eyes closed and biting her bottom lip in concentration, her tits bouncing in circles as she worked herself on me. 

I could feel her getting close though she made no sound other than heavy panting breaths, and I reached up to tweak her nipples. Her eyes flew open, heavy lidded with excitement, and she looked down at me full of lust. Her orgasm hit her; her face twisted in a grimace and her eyes once again closed tight shut as she gave one quiet groan and twitched, convulsed and then held tense and still while it took her. I felt the contractions grip.

Still with no word spoken she came back from that wordless, imageless place, her look having softened into an adoring stare as she began to rise and fall once more, this time for my resolution which came quickly and powerfully thanks to her kegel muscles and her talented fingers, reaching behind her to caress my perineum and my balls, and finally pressing a finger hard against my anus.

We lay together in the afterglow, knowing that we needed to rise to another strenuous day for me. As usual she read my thoughts.

"Don't worry about us, my sweet. Things have a way of working out. We won't be the first couple who had to travel to see each other. You belong here not in Newcastle. Don't feel guilty. Live for the day."

I hugged her hard by way of reply. We did that lovers thing, gazing into each other's eyes and loving each other in a wordless yet eloquent conversation which spoke only of love and self-giving.

Then we were up and showering, breakfasting, sorting the room out and welcoming David's arrival. As I left, Trish called after me. "I'll be in Manchester shopping. See you back here."

I waved and got into David's car.

We drove the short hop to Sale. I did seem to know the route in a vague sort of way, but couldn't tell whether I should be happier at the working of my long- or my short-term memory. 

Once we got near the centre of the town David turned off the main road and took a side road to an industrial estate. Soon we were outside an industrial unit that I did not recognise, though the name Jonsson Solutions, was clearly mine.

We entered. Seated at reception was a pretty young woman who greeted David with "Hi, Mr Lombard. Mr Bucklow is expecting you. Would you sign in please?"

David signed his name and added 'and guest'. We then proceeded down the corridor to an office. David knocked and walked in; I followed. 

Here there was another pretty woman, older than the first, perhaps in her late thirties. She was blond with blue eyes, a small nose and wide mouth.

"Hello Judy," said David. "Geoff ready for us?"

"Morning David; Mr Jones. Yes he's ready. Go right in."

"Know her?" asked David in such a quiet voice I could hardly hear him.

I shook my head.

Then the door was open and I saw Mr Geoff Bucklow for the first time (for me). 

I don't know what I was expecting, probably a sleek, dark haired, be-suited executive sitting behind a large desk with a perfect smile. What I got was the backside of a figure bending over a side table on which was a laptop. 

"With you in a minute, David," he muttered. "Damn problem is insoluble. One more try."

David raised his eyes to heaven, "He's always like this," he said.

Geoff immediately straightened up. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, turning towards us. "I'd forgotten David was bringing a visitor."

The man had a shock of untidy blond hair with a hint of red in it, his body was thick-set and he was an inch taller than I. He took two strides towards us holding out his large hand. He showed no reaction at all to my face which surprised me. There was not even a flicker of surprise at the state of it.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, "Geoff Bucklow," introducing himself. I took his hand and shook it.

"How d'you do, Mr Bucklow," I replied, "I've been looking forward to meeting you. We've met many times before but I don't know you and you don't know me!" and I laughed, more a giggle really.

The effect was comical. He looked puzzled. You could see his mind working, trying to piece together two conflicting ideas, that we met often and did not know each other, and I thought he recognised something in my voice.

"I'm sure I'd remember you," he said tentatively. "In fact--"

"With this face? Yes you would, but I didn't have this face two and a half years ago in York."

He was quick. His mouth dropped open. "It's... It's not?..."

"Yes Geoff, it's me," I said, putting him out of his misery.

He stared at me in silence, his mouth opening and closing. 

At length he stuttered, "Allan? In God's name where have you been? And what's happened to you?"

"Shall we sit down?" suggested David. 

Geoff started and gestured to the easy chairs at the side, sitting in one himself. We did the same. 

"Tell him, Allan." said David.

I told him. I was getting good at telling this tale. I told it straight leaving out all speculation. When I finished he looked shell-shocked. 

"But how come no one knew where you were? Didn't Ann check? I assumed the first thing she'd do would be to go to the hotel and check you were there and when you left. You mean she didn't check?"

"No," I replied, "At least not widely enough. Why should anyone check a Newcastle Hospital? There's no way she could have traced me to Newcastle General from what she would have learned from the hotel."

"But why didn't she go on to the police? I assumed she had." 

He looked wretched. 

"If I'd known, I would have done the usual searches," he muttered. "If I'd have known she hadn't gone there, I would have. I assumed she'd done that."

"She went to the police but that was all. She didn't go to the hotel," said David. "She just seemed to accept everything she was told."

"Look," I said, "don't beat yourself up about it. I've been beaten up and I don't recommend it!" 

He had the grace to smile ruefully. 

"I have no memory of that trip," I added. "Tell us about it."

"You were going to meet Jan Thomasson while he took in the races. Great man for the horses is Jan. He was very impressed with your hospitality and we got a good order from him. You rang to say you'd met him. You sealed the deal with him and I got the details." 

I shook my head. 

"I've no memory of any of that, Geoff. This will come as a shock to you; I don't remember you either. I don't know anything about this company other than that I own it, or part of it."

That did shock him. I explained how memory was supposed to come back and the difference between my difficulties with short-term memory and my memories previous to the attack. I told him how childhood memories often surface first and gradually become more recent. I told him about flashes and dreams. It was a lot for him to take in.

At length he spoke again. "Have you been to see Ann? David will have told you where she is."

"No," I replied, "and I have no plans to at present." 

I explained the reasons as I had to David. He saw the sense in them and nodded.

"And Geoff," I added, "I don't want it known that I'm back. I don't want it to get back to Ann. No one must know."

"So how are we to handle your presence here?" He was astute, and saw the practical difficulties immediately.

"Who can be trusted to stay tight lipped on this?" I asked.

"You don't know?" Geoff was incredulous and then realised his mistake. 

"Sorry Allan, I keep forgetting you don't have any memory of this. The obvious one is Judy. She's fanatically loyal to you and to me. She had tears in her eyes for weeks after you disappeared. She could not believe you'd abandoned Ann and gone off with someone else."




The Way Back Ch. 01



"Let's have her in then. You can tell her the details when we're gone."

Geoff pressed the intercom. "Judy, would you come in please?"

I stood as she entered the room and she smiled at my politeness.

"Judy. Can you promise not to let anything go out of this room of what we reveal to you?" Geoff asked.

"Yes of course Geoff."

I spoke. "Hello, Judy. I'm back."

I was getting used to the reactions of various people. It amused me. This time she looked at me for a long time and shrugged.

"You don't know me, and for a different reason I don't know you, but I believe we knew each other two and a half years ago. Until I disappeared." 

I waited while the statement went home.

"Allan?" she whispered, her eyes wide. Her next reaction was totally unexpected. She fainted away.

I, being the only one standing, leapt forward and caught her as she fell, falling to my knees in the process. It was excruciatingly painful but I stopped her hitting the floor and held her in my arms. The other two had sprung to their feet but I held on to her while they stood round us, a strange tableau.

Then she began to come round. Her eyes opened and she realised that I had her in my arms on the floor. She struggled to get up.

"No Judy, just lie here a few moments. Take it slowly," I said softly.

Her eyes darted over my face and I saw the tell-tale flashes of unbelief, horror and pity. 

"W-w-hat?" was all she could get out.

"It's me, Judy. As you can see I've been in a bit of trouble. Geoff will tell you the whole story. Some men mugged me and tried to kill me. As you can see, they made a thorough job of my face."

She reached up and stroked my face. 

"Oh, you poor, poor man," was all she said, her eyes filling with tears. 

Then she began to get up and David helped her to a chair. I remained where I was. My knees were hurting me badly and I hoped I had not damaged them further. Geoff noticed and helped me to stand. I tested them and the pain did not increase. I sat in another chair.

Geoff and David then told her the story between them, each filling in gaps for the other. She sat transfixed. I massaged my knees.

"Three years?" she asked, "and no one came looking for you? I don't believe it. There was no woman?"

I shook my head. "Not that I know of. Judy, it's important to me that no one beyond a few trusted friends knows I'm back. It mustn't get back to Ann, for reasons Geoff will explain to you."

"So how do we explain your presence here?" she asked, echoing Geoff's thought. A good question.

Geoff thought. "You could be a consultant. Someone I've brought in to assist me because you're gone, Allan. Len Jones. How's that?"

I wrote the name down. "Won't do to forget my own name, will it?" I laughed. "Why Len?"

"If I forget myself and call you Allan, it sounds near enough." 

I nodded; this man was clever.

"It must be very strange for you," said Judy.

"It's frustrating to know I had a life of nearly forty years, all those experiences and I can't remember any of them. Not yet, anyhow."

"You know," Geoff reflected, "Ann hasn't been here for nigh on half a year. We got a Christmas Card but no special message. She's not told us her new address."

"Perhaps she feels guilty," David offered. "I have her address." 

The conversation lapsed.

"OK, Geoff," I said, breaking the thoughtful silence that had descended, "Let's get to business." 

Judy took the cue and stood to leave. I stood also and she smiled.

"You were always the perfect gentleman, Len," she said. Then, "If I may take a liberty." 

She came across and kissed me on both damaged cheeks. "Welcome home, Len. You've no idea how happy I am to see you again," then she left.

"Lucky bugger," muttered Geoff with a grin, "More than I ever got! Now to the job in hand."

We talked about the latest challenge from Ann and Derek and I agreed that if necessary I would blow my cover to keep control of the company.

Geoff had really taken to heart my lack of memory and proceeded to take me round the factory, introducing me as a new consultant to all the work people, none of whom I remembered. He explained what they were doing, and when we got back to the office he went through all the orders and research we were doing. It was only when he began to talk science and technology, using specialist terms, that I realised I understood everything he was saying. My heart leapt. I was really back!

David had gone back to his own office in Sale; it was after all a working week and he was busy. Geoff offered to take me back to the hotel and I gratefully accepted. 

Once back I settled to listen again to David's and Viv's exposition of my life and situation. I had had the Dictaphone running during the morning meeting with Geoff, and listened to that as well. Then I did it all over again until eventually I heard the car arrive, and Trish burst into the room with an armful of bags. 

She'd bought me a collection of clothes, most of which I thought I could wear without too much embarrassment. She tried on her stuff and I approved of it all; how could I not? I liked her choice of lingerie especially. She had a knack of choosing knickers that were comfortable as well as sexy.

We came to the end of her undressing and dressing, and lay down for a nap. Trish actually read a novel while I slept. The activities of those two days had really got to me.

David called in while we were eating dinner with some documents for me to sign and I signed at the table without reading any of it. He gave me a folder with bank details, a debit card, its PIN and other things with which I would need to deal, and left hurriedly, assuring me he would phone if he needed anything else from me.

That night, Trish and I watched TV from the bed, and hugged before turning the lights out and going to sleep. We were both too tired for sex. The next day we left for Newcastle which until recently was the only life I knew.



The Way Back Ch. 02



SIX 

On Thursday Patricia and I left Manchester and drove back to Newcastle through the Pennine Hills rather than taking the motorways. There had been no snow for over a week on the top, so the roads were quite passable. 

It was the last day of our break and while I was a gentleman of leisure, if you can call therapy leisure, Trish was back at work the next day and on early shift at that. She would be working earlies until Saturday. She wanted to make the most of this last day by enjoying the hills, covered as they were by snow.

We arrived back at Trish's in the evening and did a quick shop, ate and went to bed. We made love as long-standing lovers do, very relaxed and undemanding of each other.

Next morning when I awoke, Trish had already gone off to work and I went to therapy. It was gruelling as usual but I worked hard and returned home exhausted but satisfied. Home now was Trish's flat, and though I'd hardly been there before, having my own place, it felt more like home than mine. I slept the afternoon away and was awoken by Trish's arrival. She drove me over to my flat to collect more of my clothes and toiletries.

After dinner we joined some of her nursing friends and spent an evening laughing at the sort of filthy jokes and anecdotes at which the medical profession excel; and drinking at which they also excel. 

Thus on Saturday morning I awoke feeling very ill indeed. My painkillers did not react well to large amounts of alcohol. Once again Trish had gone off to work, leaving me with my stomach and head. I held my head and thought that I wasn't really helping Trish first thing in the morning. I was never awake in time.

I was not in the best condition to do serious thinking but I saw the personal recorder and played the recordings of all the conversations I'd had over and over.

The first thing I noticed was how everyone seemed to be so keen on me meeting my ex-wife. I could understand that. They had a memory of my relationship with her in the past, and it was reasonable for them to want us to rekindle that relationship. I heard myself on the tape saying over and over that I didn't know her.

The next thing was more serious and important. It seemed my children really needed me. How would I get round that one? Whereas Ann was now safely with someone else she obviously loved, my children needed me. It didn't matter that I didn't remember them; that was irrelevant. I had to find a way to get in touch with them. However something told me that the time was not yet. I would know when the time was right, wouldn't I?

I knew I would be making Manchester my new home. My friends from of old all lived there and I would be meeting more of them, but it would be as if for the first time. They would be new friends. What I had learned about those I had met, was that they were the best friends a person could want, but I didn't have a history with them. 

My company was there. My history was there and I was becoming more confident I would eventually remember it. 

However, now I felt more at home in Newcastle. I didn't have much of a history with Trish and our friends from the hospital, but it was longer and deeper than those in Sale. It would be a wrench to leave them.

From my point of view, Trish was beautiful, physically as well as mentally and emotionally; we were certainly sexually highly compatible and it wasn't just lust. We communicated intimately at every level. So why didn't I make my future with her? I loved her; I was in love with her. What was the problem with settling with her? Of course, I had forgotten she was set on going to her family in New Zealand.

It eventually dawned on me that the problem was that I was not a complete person. It was precisely that I had no history. I was living on inadequate data, and when the other data came through -- if it came through -- it might change things drastically. So what to do?

I concluded that it meant I couldn't make a solid commitment to Trish. She had always said she was not into commitment but some of her reactions belied that assertion. I surmised I may have been conceited but I thought she was falling in love with me.

I rang Trish at work, and we arranged to meet at our local pub mid-afternoon. As soon as she saw me I could see she knew we had to 'have the talk'.

"Trish, darling," I began, but she interrupted.

"Have you decided it's finished between us, Allan, is that it?"

I thought for a moment, though it seemed like an age.

"Trish. A lot has happened. I'm not sure where I stand."

"OK, carry on." She was steeling herself for bad news.

"I've found a family, a divorcing wife, money, and a company I own which may be under threat from my ex-wife."

"So are you saying it's still all in the air, as far as we're concerned?" she asked hopefully. "If it's open-ended I can live with that. I did say no strings when we started this relationship after all." 

She paused, then, "You'll be going back to Manchester permanently, then."

"At the moment it seems so, but Trish, I don't want to end our relationship. Will you come and visit when I have a place to stay?"

She didn't need to think. 

"Don't be daft, Allan," she giggled, "and you can come here as well. We came back the pretty way but it only takes a few hours by car along the motorways and the A1. And whatever happens we'll always be close. It's the sextra bit that's not clear," she smiled at her clever elision. "Sex. Do we carry on -- carrying on?"

"You want to?" I asked.

"Yes, I've sort of got used to the shagging bit. You're very good at it you know, thanks to my tuition of course." 

She looked at me expecting a response; there was none because I was obviously biting back a smile. So she qualified with a grin, "and your innate ability, of course!" 

"Of course," I answered smugly. We both laughed and went back to her place. Were we any clearer about where we were going with each other? I didn't think so.

"Do you feel any sense of being unfaithful to Ann?" she asked as we undressed in front of each other. 

"She's shagging this bloke; she's moved in with him. We're divorcing, Trish," I muttered. "I don't know her. No, I don't feel bad." 

We fell into bed and afterwards she assured me that while I had problems with my short term memory, I had forgotten nothing about the art of lovemaking. 

For my part I assured her that being buried in that special place of hers between her thighs was the best, indeed the only real home I knew.

We got out of bed and made dinner, which we had with a bottle of wine. Spaghetti Bolognese with a side salad, simple but delicious. We watched some bland TV and then went to bed early. Trish was on early shift all week as a favour to a friend.

As I drifted off, it came to me that I had no trouble with my memory when it came to my relationship with Trish. It made me feel happy and optimistic.

We awoke together and breakfasted together. The early morning was just getting light and there was a deep red sky. It was good. I arranged to meet her at the hospital and then go for a pub meal and an afternoon out somewhere. 

Once she had gone to work, I went back to bed and slept another two hours, being awoken by the bell of a local church calling the faithful to worship. 

Out of curiosity I hobbled to the church. It made no sense what was going on, but the priest had two topics: love and forgiveness.

Cut short, he said that commitment to others in love was the way to contentment and happiness. Trying to achieve lasting happiness through selfish actions was doomed to failure in the long run. Love was the only answer to the human search for true and lasting satisfaction. Made sense to me.

Then he went on to talk of forgiveness. I only knew my present condition, but I'd endured a lot of pain, and I could tell that others were a lot better looking than me and looked with horror at my face. Some men or youths had done this to me. They had ruined my life as it had been. I now knew I had lost my wife and children, my memory and my agility. 

Forgiveness? No! I wanted revenge, or perhaps justice? I could see what so-called justice would mean; a prison sentence of about ten years maximum. Then they'd be out, perfectly healthy and able to carry on with their lives. My sentence was a life sentence, I would always look like this. My medics had told me that as I grew older I would suffer increased pain in my joints and muscles. No, I had no intention of forgiving those bastards.

Now I wanted them found and punished, but had no idea how this could be achieved. A dead end.

"Where shall we go?" Trish asked as we got into her car, after a coffee at a café near the hospital. 

"The coast," I answered without really thinking. It was a bright fine day and not too cold for a winter's day. I wanted to see the sea. Something in me wanted a sense of perspective, and standing small in front of the immensity and power of the sea and its breakers was just what I needed.

We walked along the seashore at Whitley Bay, muffled up against the wind. 

"Are you religious?" I asked her, out of the blue.

"Depends what you mean," she said reflectively. "I was brought up a Catholic, you can tell that by the surname, can't you? But I don't go to church any more."

"Any particular reason, don't you believe any more?"

"There were just too many things I couldn't swallow. The usual ones, contraception, a male dominated clergy and the pathetic reasons to maintaining it, and their celibacy. It just seemed to me to be a way of keeping power over people. When I read the Bible I can't see any place where Jesus was into holding power over people, he seemed to be the very opposite. What brought that on?"

"I heard a church bell and thought I'd have a look at what went on. The priest talked about love and forgiveness.

"I was fine until he got to the forgiveness bit. How can I forgive the thugs who did this to me? I want justice, not forgiveness."

"Will you forgive your wife?"

That stopped me. I actually stopped walking. I couldn't answer the question. For some reason it angered me.

"What's all this about Ann? Has the talk about me going back to Sale brought this on? I thought we'd talked it through together. Didn't we agree that this wasn't going to be a permanent relationship? We will go on seeing each other for as long as you want us to. Isn't that what you want? You've said so often enough."

"Sorry Allan," she was taken aback by my vehemence, "but there are two of us in this relationship and it might be you who wants out one day, not me." 

"It's OK Trish," I said calming down. "It's just I got this 'Are you going to see Ann? Are you going to try again with Ann?' from Vivienne. It's getting on my nerves. Ann's with someone else. They're getting married. And I haven't any feelings about it at all. She's not someone I know." 

Deep down I think I knew that wasn't quite true. I too needed answers about her reaction to my disappearance and I was emotionally affected by her being with another man, though I wasn't aware of what those emotions were.

"Allan," she said tentatively, "when you do remember, you know, your feelings might change. You might realise how much you love her. Then what? In fact I think that's your problem. You're afraid that when you see her you'll fall hard for her and she'll reject you and marry this other bloke. That's it, isn't it?"

That thought had not occurred to me. I had been in love with Ann for years, so it was likely I would be again. 

"Well according to those Christian principles of love," I replied, "I should do what would be best for her. If she wants to marry this man, I would need to keep clear of her." 

"There you go again," she said more patiently, "keeping clear of her. You see why I wonder if you could cope with her rejection of you? I really think you ought to meet before she marries. 

"You can hardly keep your identity a secret for the rest of your life while carrying on running your business in the same area. For goodness' sake Allan, she's likely to be a shareholder! She's bound to find out sooner or later. Better before. 

"Can you imagine how dreadful it would be for her if she heard your whole story, still loved you with all her heart and had just married this other guy? If she wants you back and you find you love her it'll stop her doing something she'll regret."

I thought about that. 

"As usual you're right. I have a couple of month's grace; I want to take my time over this, but you are right, I will need to see her. Even if it causes difficulties with her new husband-to-be."

"And for you." She was not letting this go.

Then she added, "You know I love you, Allan?"

"Yes. And I love you, you know that, don't you?"

"So let's go home."

We did, and when we reached the bedroom, she turned to me and her arms were round my neck. Mine went behind her, round her waist and under her sweater. Her kiss became more intense and I began to push the garment upwards. She broke the kiss and raised her arms so I could take it off. We did the same for my tee shirt. Then her jeans and my trousers. Then her knickers and my pants. Finally her bra, and we were naked apart from our socks.

We fell onto the bed and I knelt up between her legs, my cock was hardening and I pulled at it a few times while she fingered her clit. We held each other's gaze. No further foreplay but my lowering onto her and into her, and her sigh of satisfaction as she felt the penetration. As she usually did, as I began to thrust into her gently, she traced the scars on my back, arms and behind. That skin is strangely especially sensitive and I moaned my appreciation and felt my orgasm approaching. I slowed down to delay my climax so that she could catch up but she urged me on. 

"Don't stop, don't wait. Please love."

So I didn't and came hard and she grunted and groaned as she felt it and saw my orgasm in my face but did not reach completion herself. I withdrew rapidly and plunged my fingers down to her clitoris; she was near and I began strumming on the little bud until she convulsed and thrashed in her own release. 

As she began to come down, I pushed my softening cock back into her and was rewarded by a further series of spasms which enlivened my wilting member and we pushed and shoved each other hard into a second orgasm apiece which, if not as intense as the first, was if anything more deeply satisfying. I rolled off her and she nestled into me and we stroked each other absently before falling asleep for a while.

I realised I had hardly eaten anything all day, and we ordered a Chinese meal to be delivered and felt better for eating it and washing it down with a bottle of wine. Then, because she had to be up early, she went off to bed leaving me to tidy up. I sat down with the intention of thinking some more about this development in my life, but I was too tired and gave up the struggle, climbing the stairs and creeping into our bed. In her sleep she turned and cuddled me and I kissed her forehead before falling asleep myself.

When I awoke, she had gone, but there was a note.

Dearest Allan

Sorry I had to leave you sleeping. No time for therapy this morning, on at six. Even with your face you looked angelic in sleep!

Don't waste any more time. Get things sorted and get some peace of mind. Follow the list you made. You remember the list??? 

Why don't you move the rest of your things to my place? You can give up your flat and that will save commuting between yours and mine. When you settle in Manchester we can take everything there.

I've left a key in the hallway. See you here about 3pm.

Love you loads,

Trish.

What a good heart the woman has, I thought. 

I did as she suggested, and moved the remains of my things to her flat by taxi. The taxi driver cheerfully handled my luggage, and was even more cheerful when I tipped him generously. I left the cases in the Hallway and made my way back to town on the bus.

Before I set off I phoned David on his mobile to tell him of my move. He was grateful since he had obtained a replacement birth and marriage certificate from the Trafford Register Office, and wanted to send them on. I told him to keep them until I arrived. 

Then I phoned a clinic that Trish knew about for a DNA test. Oh, the wonders of private medicine; they were open for business on Mondays and could give me an immediate appointment!

I went to keep my appointment at the clinic for my DNA test. They took some blood, a pin prick rather than an armful. There was a little panic about payment, but the nurse suggested I pay by card. A revelation! Then she wondered in view of my memory whether my PIN might be written somewhere. Of course it was, though that was contravening card rules.

Afterwards I went to an ATM and checked my balance -- I had no idea if there was any money in it, and found there were twelve thousand four hundred and sixty three pounds and eighty six pence residing there. I wondered where such a lot of money had come from, when I remembered that David said he would transfer money for me.

I consulted David's list, got passport forms and had photo's taken.

Finally I went to the estate agents who managed my flat and arranged for a final visit to check the place over, giving in my notice at the same time.

I went back to Trish's feeling successful, and tried to fill in the forms. I soon gave up. There was no way I could remember the details needed. I did what I could and then settled down for a nap.

She awoke me when she arrived. She was in her nurse's uniform. If a picture has arisen of a very short thigh-high blue dress open at the top to reveal burgeoning breasts bursting over a sexy bra, with white apron, mop-cap and thigh-high stockings, the tops visible below the hem of the dress, douse it immediately. That is what nurses wear in porn and Carry On films. She was in a loose smock and roomy trousers to match.

But she was horny and so was I. In no time I was naked, and she was down to her working bra and plain white briefs. She was unhooking her bra and bending over the sofa arm, and I was easing said knickers over her admirable tight rounded buttocks when the phone rang. She reached over and answered it. The panties were down to her knees as she handed the phone to me. The bra fell onto the sofa.

"It's for you!" she said, looking back over her shoulder with a wicked grin.

"Hello?" I said, taking the phone from her as she reached between her legs, dropped the knickers, took my cock in hand and led it to her eager entrance.

"Allan, it's David!"

"Oof! Hi, David!" I gasped as she pushed her back end into me, impaling me in her depths, tickling my balls as she did so.

"You ok?" He asked with some concern.

"O-o-h, yes!" I managed to exhale, since she was now caressing my balls and fucking me as I stood behind her. "Any news?" 

I only had one hand free, so I spanked her and held her still.

He persisted against all odds: "Got you a flat in Stretford. Furnished nicely. Two bedrooms, living area with kitchen off, bathroom and separate toilet."

"Gre - a - t," I managed. She was still playing with my balls and perineum. 

"Allan, are you busy with your nurse friend? She giving you some therapy?"

"Well, yes. Ugh!" She was grinding her arse in circular motion against my groin.

"Phone me first thing tomorrow. Now concentrate on the job in hand!" He was laughing as he disconnected.

I dropped the phone. "Right, you lust-laden slut, you're really going to get it now!"

"Oh, goody!" she shouted, as I began to slam my cock repeatedly, filling the length of her. "Oh, yes, give it to me baby! I like it!" 

She was laughing at her poor imitation of a porn movie, but she had given up trying to hold on to my balls, and was giving her breasts a good work out with her free hand. I was sure there would be bruises. Then she moved to her clit, brushing my balls as she strummed away. The other hand was holding her up against the repeated pressure pushing her forward over the arm of the sofa.




The Way Back Ch. 02



I did 'give it to her'. I idly wondered, as she came with a few loud encouraging phrases and appreciative yelling, and as I followed soon afterwards grunting and groaning, whether the neighbours would call the murder squad, but we were left in peace to regain our equilibrium.

After our evening meal, we did it again, just as loudly, but in bed. Again no one complained; we certainly didn't.

As on Monday Trish was on earlies yet again, and as on Sunday I awoke with her and at 5.15am we were sharing breakfast time in the dark of the early morning. 

"I'm on lates, from tomorrow for three days. One of the supply nurses has flu. I'm off from Saturday to Wednesday. It won't be much fun for you here, why don't you go back to Sale, sort things out with David and enjoy your new flat? Then I could visit you for the weekend."

I phoned David and he told me that Ann had begun her claim for maintenance and a share in my money. He told me it was called an 'application for ancillary relief', or alimony for the layperson. He would tell me more when I returned.

Going back seemed like a good idea and I told David I would be back the next day. I went for therapy and physio and returned to the flat aching in every joint and muscle as always. I knew it was doing me good: no pain -- no gain; I was becoming more mobile as I did the daily exercises I had been taught, and I could now walk some distance without a stick. I got my train ticket on the way back from the torture.

Trish took me out for a meal at a good restaurant. We went early and availed ourselves of their 'early bird offer', buy one meal and get one free. So we were well fed and felt good about the bill! Trish said it was known as a BOGOF (Buy One Get One Free). Sounded a bit rude to me.

"I'll miss you," she said as we walked home. 

"I know I'll miss you, but it's only a few days."

"I know," she said with sadness in her voice.

"Well, you'll have a chance to let your hair down while I'm gone."

"I'll be thinking of you all the time," she said more seriously. "You know, since we've been together I've not missed the evenings with the girls."

"Well, I certainly don't expect to shack up with another girl. Having only you is easy for me. No girl will look at me, and my dancing is not what it was!"

We both laughed. It was so comfortable with her. Other people tended to keep the conversation away from my condition, no doubt feeling embarrassed at their own fitness, but Trish and I could always joke about it; after all, she'd been my travelling companion through the worst of it.

We stayed up late talking about all sorts of things and listening to Mozart and then we went to bed. We did caress each other all over and we did kiss each other at length and deeply, but it was relaxed and sensuous rather than erotic; it was comfortable and gentle and soft. Gradually our stroking slowed and we slept.

After all those early starts, that Wednesday morning we enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in. I got up and made some tea and then we made gentle love which became more intense as we reached orgasm and we kept our eyes open throughout, watching each other's reactions through the fullness of climax and resolution, and loving what we saw.

A leisurely breakfast. Grapefruit, grilled bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes and poached eggs. Then we showered together, soaping each other gently and becoming so turned on by the experience that we raced to the bed and got ourselves sticky and sweaty using each other, this time from behind at her request.

"We did the loving before breakfast now give me lust!" She had growled at me as we hurtled to the bed. I gave her lust, the regular smashing of my balls against her clit bringing forth cries of appreciation and yelps of pseudo-pain as my cock bottomed out hard in her passage again and again until I spewed my juice into her and she arched and bowed in her coming, falling onto her face at the end. 

I withdrew slowly, her sheath pulling on my cock, and enjoyed her exquisitely rounded buttocks, as my wilting member left her. Then when she could raise herself form the bed, we showered again and resisted a repeat performance.

After coffee, I phoned David, giving him the time of the train, and he told me that Viv would meet me and take me to the flat. Then Trish took me and my two suitcases to the station and saw me onto the train. We hugged and kissed on the platform, and then we kissed again at the door. I watched her lonely form waving from the platform, all too soon disappearing, modern trains not having opening windows.

I settled into my first class seat and read a light novel, but it did not stop a feeling of loneliness sweeping over me. Could I ever let this woman go when the time came? We were getting totally enmeshed in each other in every way. The wrench I now felt at the prospect of a few days apart reinforced this feeling.

------

SEVEN 

The train kept good time and the sun shone so the journey was very pleasant, especially across the Pennines, where the deeper drifted snow had remained after most had melted. I arrived at Manchester and was met by Vivienne as arranged. I took some time to get to the end of the platform using one stick (I was very proud of this) and pushing the trolley with my two huge suitcases perched on it, but there she was, almost hopping up and down with excitement. 

She hugged me and I her. She took one case in one hand and my arm with the other while I pulled the other case on its wheels, and we made our way to the car park.

"I'm to take you to the flat first and get your seal of approval. I'm sure you'll like it. Then I rather hoped you'd come for dinner."

I was happy to agree. I was getting tired, and did not relish starting cooking from scratch in a new kitchen. 

She was right, the flat David had rented for me was very comfortable and tastefully furnished. I suspected the choice had been a joint effort and they had excelled themselves. It was in Stretford, a short tram ride from Sale and a slightly longer one to Altrincham. A lift to all floors. Two bedrooms. 

The previous tenants had made the second bedroom into a study or office. It had a desk for a computer and a phone point. To do this they had had to move the double bed into the main bedroom, which already had one and so that room was rather crowded as a result, but I didn't care; I wasn't going to move the bed on my own with my aching bones. 

The kitchen opened onto the living area and was small but well appointed. The bathroom was roomy and had a power shower. The living room window looked over well-kept gardens and being on the second floor had a good view of the main road and its heavy traffic without it being near enough to disturb me. 

The shopping centre was across the local road. It was not a beautiful complex but none of my windows overlooked it, for which I was grateful. 

Viv made some tea, I noticed that they must have stocked the place for me, since there was milk available for the tea. The bed was also made up.

"I brought some sheets and a duvet cover over," she explained, "You've got to have something to sleep in."

"Viv, you and David, you're very good to me! How can I ever repay you?" I said, trying and failing to express the extent of my gratitude.

"As David always says," she said dismissively, "You do repay us; you pay David very well for the work he does, and you looked after him when he had trouble a few years ago. You were always a good friend to us."

I didn't remember what I'd done, but I wasn't going to pursue it at that moment. I turned my attention to unpacking my case and having a shower. I exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel round my waist just as Viv came out of the living area.

"Allan... Oh you're out. I was going to... Good God!..." She paled and stood stock still, gazing at my torso and ankles. 

I would like to have thought she was impressed with my toned and sexy body, but her expression was not of admiration but horror. She could see my scars. They were impressive in a ghoulish sort of way, though they had become less vivid with the passing years.

"They don't hurt any more, Viv. I'm so used to Trish seeing them I quite forgot they might shock you. Sorry."

"I'm the one who's sorry, Allan. How could anyone be so vicious?"

"Easily, it seems," I replied with a smile. "I'll go and cover up. Hardly appropriate behaviour, exhibiting my scars to a married woman!"

It made her laugh and any awkwardness passed. She turned and went back to the living area where I joined her shortly afterwards, suitably dressed.

Dinner was perfect as always, but I had to pay. Vivienne returned to matchmaking mode and it occasioned a repetition of the arguments we had at our previous meeting.

She began innocuously. "So, Allan, what are your plans for the coming week? Going into work?"

"No, not this week; I need to settle into that excellent flat, buy some bedding for a start and David has a lot in store for me, I'm sure. On Saturday Trish comes for a long weekend."

Again there was that look of disappointment on Viv's face.

"Viv, I'm with Trish now," I told her patiently. "You have to get used to that. It's not exactly helpful of you look despondent every time I mention her."

She was suitably chastened and apologised. 

"Viv can't help it Allan," said David. "She has memories that you haven't got yet, but while we're on it, have you had any more thoughts on the Ann question?"

"The only thing I'd like to know is why Ann didn't make more effort to try to find me. She had enough money to hire someone. Perhaps she had already decided to dump me for Derek."

"No chance, Allan," Vivienne asserted, "she loved you to bits."

"All the more worrying that she made no real effort to find me."

"Did it upset you as you were recovering not to have anyone look for you or visit you?" Vivienne asked.

"Well, no. I had no memory so I didn't miss anyone. It was more a puzzle for me at the time really."

"Well," said David, "as you know, we have a friend who might be able to help there. Keith."

"Keith?"

"Keith Cuthbertson. A Private Investigator."

"No. Don't know him. I live a strange life, David. Things come and go."

"Yes, you told me."

"Did I?"

A giggle escaped Vivienne's lips, followed instantly by a look of acute embarrassment on her face. I started laughing at her expression and in no time we were all sharing the laughter. I wrote Keith's name and occupation down when our laughter subsided.

"Friday evening, we go to the pub and meet Colin. "

I cocked an eyebrow.

"Detective Chief Inspector Sinnott in the Greater Manchester Force?" He suggested.

"We met at the Police Station?" I ventured.

"That's right."

"I move in exalted society then?"

"Oh, yes. I asked him to keep in touch with the Northumbria Force about your attack."

Things are looking up, I thought.

"Allan?" Vivienne looked apprehensive at what she was about to say.

"Yes?" I smiled, mainly to put her at her ease.

"Is there any chance of you getting back with Ann? Any at all?" Her question was tentative: she knew where Ann was living, and with whom.

"Viv!" said David rather sharply. "I thought we'd agreed--"

"It's OK, David," I stopped him. "It's a question that's gong to be asked again and again. I have been thinking about it, Viv." 

I smiled. "But that very thing shows the problem. You were a brand new person when we met. I know you now but only from that first evening. You remember our history. For me there is none.

"They say my memory will come back; it is already coming back in fits and starts. Sometimes I just know something but not consciously. I'll say something and wonder where it came from. I have flashes from my childhood, my mother for instance. As far as I'm concerned, I can't 'get back with Ann' because I've never been with her in the first place! See what I mean?"

Viv sighed. She understood, and I understood her longing for something of which I knew nothing. I continued.

"So I don't know Ann. Don't you think that our love for someone is governed by the context? The context is all the life you've lived together, remembered consciously or unconsciously? I have no context as far as Ann is concerned. No history. Viv, I don't even know if I'd know her if I saw her! So you can work out for yourself the chances of us getting together."

"But I'm certain she will still love you once she knows the true story."

"But I don't love her!" I was becoming exasperated again. "I can't. Perhaps when memories come back I'll love her again, but even that's not certain. That's why I'm not keen on meeting her. She's with someone else. She's making a new life for herself. And there's another complication."

"What?" Viv looked dispirited.

"You know what, or rather who. She's called Trish. Now I do love her, even if we won't be together permanently. I do have a history with her and a context."

"But you're married."

"Was married. No longer. Ann has divorced me if you remember."

"Not entirely: it's not absolute yet. Anyway she's only divorcing you because--"

"Yes, I know. I disappeared." My patience was running thin. "Well, now she's got someone else and I have someone else as well as her! When we became an 'item', Trish and I had no knowledge of my life here. Things might have been different if I had. We have now to wait and see. There's another thing, Viv. What woman, Ann included, would want to be shackled to a hideous monster like me? I know what my face does to people." 

I turned to David, with a smile.

"David, I flashed Viv as I came out of the bathroom at the flat after a shower. It's all right; I was wearing a towel. She saw my scars. Her face showed the same horror and revulsion as I see on people's faces everyday. Can you see Ann, or any woman beyond Trish, taking a fancy to me?"

"Don't be daft, Allan," Viv responded quickly and decisively. "Teenage girls might just go on a boy's looks, but women with any sense look deeper than that, though I admit that some never grow up. 

Trish loves you because of the qualities you've shown, your fight back to health, the way you look after her and she after you; your love for her. Allan, most women will stand by the man they love no matter what. But you're right, it's the context of the love a couple's past life together has made, and that's what will drive Ann when she knows, believe me."

"OK," I replied resignedly, "but the fact remains that until I get some memory back, I'd be going to a stranger."

"I still think that when you meet her you'll fall in love with her like you did the first time. You could do that, you know, start from scratch. Then what?"

I couldn't help but admire Viv's commitment to Ann and I must confess I'd only just started thinking about what might actually happen when I did see her since the conversation with Trish on that Sunday walk.

"OK Viv, if it makes you happy, I'm open to anything happening when I see her. Perhaps I can meet her without her recognising me, but not this week."

That ended the conversation. 

David now explained about the divorce and Ann's application. Because I was not present, she needed to get a court to decide how the effects of the marriage would be divided up and how much maintenance she and the children would get. David had to provide an "Affidavit of Means" showing everything I owned, including my holdings in the company. Ann had to do the same. Then the two solicitors had to exchange them. It had to be done within 28 days.

Then he outlined my week. He would see me on Friday to sort out legal things; we would have dinner with Viv, and then go and meet Colin at the pub. It was time to go home and prepare for a busy week. He would arrange a driving lesson on Saturday to check I could still drive safely. He would then hire me a car unless Geoff was going to sort out a firm's car for me.

I awoke late on Thursday morning wondering where I was, and panicked for a moment until I remembered. It was a strange place and I'd moved in yesterday. Anyone would have had that disorientated experience. I showered in luxury, made breakfast and then stood at the window of the living area, watching the traffic in the distance. The rain was falling lightly -- fine drops which drench you to the skin but oh so gently. The passers-by hurried to and fro under their umbrellas like a Lowry painting.

I went round the flat making a long list of things to buy and spent the morning shopping. The afternoon brightened up and I began to make the place my own, re-arranging the furniture to my liking and cleaning the kitchen, bathroom, toilet and the bathroom. 

I'm sure they were perfectly clean, but it is an emotional thing; somehow cleaning the areas for food and intimate bodily functions seems to make one's ownership of a place complete.

I was tired when I finished and had just fallen asleep in the armchair when the phone rang. I picked up. It was Geoff.

"Can I tell Susan about you?" he asked, "We don't keep secrets from each other and she's good at keeping confidences."

"Who's Susan? Your girlfriend?"

"Oh bugger!" he swore. "I keep forgetting."

"No Geoff, I keep forgetting!" I was laughing.

He laughed out loud.

"She's my wife Allan."

"Yes, go ahead. There shouldn't be secrets between husbands and wives." There was an edge of bitterness. It was anger at Ann, why I had no idea. I knew the feeling was groundless.

"Thanks. Are you in Saturday morning? I might have something for you."

I assured him I would be and he rang off. After all he was a busy man, making money for me. I napped for an hour and felt dreadful when I awoke. I made myself an evening meal of Spaghetti Bolognese and felt better in the making of it and better still in the eating.

It struck me when I sat down after washing up that this was the first time I had been truly alone in a house or flat since I left hospital and rehab. I didn't like it much: I missed Trish. I wondered what she was doing, and then my mind strayed into wondering what my ex-wife and my children were doing. It was fruitless really, and I went on to think about these new-old friends of mine who were being so good to me and obviously thought a lot of me. 

I'd often wondered what I was like before the attack. They say that people often change character quite dramatically after brain damage, and I wondered if I was a real sod to people and whether that was why my ex-wife was so keen to sever links with me. 

On the other hand, it did seem I couldn't have been all that bad or my friends wouldn't have wanted to know me. Of course Viv and David assured me that Ann was head over heels in love with me.

I watched TV and then went to bed. Friday was going to be busy.

------ 

EIGHT

Friday morning dawned sunny and crisp, a beautiful March morning, even though it was mid-February. I stood at the window and watched the traffic on the main road as it stopped, started and crawled by in a parody of the phrase 'rush hour'. 

It suddenly (all my new memories seemed to come suddenly) came to me. There was a picture in my mind of a little boy of five or six years old waiting for a bus on that road. Then a picture of the school. Yes, I travelled at that age alone on two buses to a school in Chorlton. I smiled at the memory. 

I had thick soup in a flask for lunch at school. Why that memory?

The more memories that followed on from these, the broader my smile became.

"You're looking cheerful!" said David as he walked in.

"Memories, David, memories! Childhood ones," I added seeing hope dawn in his eyes. 

"But every little helps," I added again as I saw his disappointment. "They're coming back!"

We went to his office. Getting up those stairs was becoming easier. 

The first thing he did was to hand me my driving license. There followed a long series of form filling and swearing oaths. In view of the impending court case about the financial settlement and involving the Power of Attorney, he invited me to write a letter to him explaining I was now able to take care of my own affairs, but wanted him to continue for the time being. Also I could say I could attend court if necessary, but that I appointed David to represent me. David would submit the evidence that I was who I was, and that my new signature was genuine. He dictated the letter to his secretary and I signed it,




The Way Back Ch. 02



We went to my bank where I was introduced to the manager and filled in more forms, then a drive into Manchester and meetings with my stockbroker. Finally we went back to David's office, and I changed my will to exclude Ann but include the children in trust up to age twenty-five. David went over the legalities of our company, and gave me a written summary of it all. 

Then there was the paperwork concerning the Cherry Tree Lane house, and the authorisation of the transfer of funds which would make the house mine and mine alone. I noted the condition that everything in the house, contents as well as fixtures and fittings would be left. It turned out David had got a surveyor to make an inventory of everything in the house. It had the appearance of a thick book, and apparently Ann had signed it off without a second glance. The inventory went to an interminable number of pages and like Ann, I wasn't interested in reading it.

"You'll find some very interesting things in the house," was all David said about the contents, but the smile assured me that the surprise would be pleasant. 

He invited me once again for dinner, but my head was spinning from the day's activities and I needed to rest on my own for a while, and so gratefully refused his offer. He reminded me of our evening at the pub, and said he would collect me at seven thirty. I ate and slept.

Viv drove us to the pub and promised to pick us up afterwards, admonishing David not to let me drink too much since I was still taking pain killers for my legs, though I was now finding I did not need such a high dosage. She was like a mother hen with an errant chick.

I recognised Colin immediately. He was sitting in a corner with a pint in front of him and David brought me over to him before going to buy beer for us both. We exchanged pleasantries for a while, he asking what we'd been up to since we last met, but I sensed there was more to this meeting than a friendly night out. As it turned out I was right. Things would not be the same after this night. We had only been seated for a few minutes when another man joined us, carrying a pint. I vaguely recognised him.

He saw me and his mouth dropped open. "Allan?" he enquired after a long moment.

I nodded.

"Allan, this is Keith Cuthbertson," said David. "He's another good friend. Your company has supplied him with stuff. He's a Private Investigator."

I stood and shook his hand.

"You don't know me do you?" he said. 

"No, Keith, I don't remember you, but my memory is coming back so I may soon."

"It's a bloody shame! God, they really went to town on you."

"Now to business," said David. He knew I didn't need more sympathy.

I cocked an eyebrow. Business?

"Colin?" David looked over at him. 

Colin turned to me, with a serious expression. "Allan, the three of us have been talking about you and the attack on you. I've been in touch with Northumberland Police and had a very interesting conversation with them. Has anything struck you about your attack?"

"Well, the police were convinced that it wasn't a random mugging but a deliberate attack. They kept questioning me about whether I was involved in drug dealing or protection rackets. I couldn't remember my name, and they thought that I was lying about that. It wasn't pleasant. I was in continuous pain and they didn't let up with the questions; they kept coming back. I got quite a grilling."

"Have you thought of any reason why you should have ended up in Newcastle?" David asked.

"No, but all I can think is that I did meet a woman. Perhaps I'd had a relationship with her. That she lured me there, got me beaten up and stole everything from me."

"Well," said David. "I didn't want to bring this up when I first met you, but there are worrying facts you need to know."

"Go on."

"I told you that Derek Fanshaw had a PI check on you, and that he got pictures of you at York Station." 

I nodded.

"Well," he continued, "there was a charge on your credit card for that Station. I got Keith here to check and he reckons that it would have covered two first class tickets to Newcastle."

"Oh," I said. I began to feel guilty. So I was a cheating husband and Ann had every right to take me to the cleaners and to marry Derek.

I was feeling ashamed. "I don't know what to say. I don't remember that day at all, so I can't very well deny it. All I can say is that I hate the idea of doing that to Ann after so many years. No wonder she hates me."

"The thing is," said Colin, "we can't believe it. You were so obviously deeply in love with Ann. We would pass comments about other women but you were never interested. You always wanted to get back home to her. You were always the first to leave when we met for a boys' night out. You never missed a single day to speak to her when you went away, even when you were globe-trotting on business you'd find a way to contact her. This was totally out of character."

"You can't get away from the facts, Colin," I said morosely. "You are a policeman. There's evidence."

"No," he replied. "Look at all the evidence. Why did you get beaten up?"

"And," added David, "those last transactions on the card. The card was stolen from you when you were mugged but never used. No one ever tried to steal your identity."

"Well..." I stopped. I couldn't answer those questions. I looked at the others for help.

"And why were you so comprehensively beaten? It couldn't have been for money, none was taken beyond what you had on you."

"One idea," suggested Keith. "He was with the woman, Alsvik, was it? And her husband or boyfriend caught them. That would account for the severity of the beating."

"But then, why steal everything from me including my clothes and leave me with nothing to identify me?" 

"Perhaps the boyfriend/ husband, whatever, thought he'd killed you," said Keith. "We've traced your movements quite easily now you've come back from the dead. If you were dead and unidentified eventually you'd be buried. End of story."

"So?" I asked. "Where does this leave us? Where are we going with this?"

"Well," said David. "I think it's important to try to find who did this to you and the real reason for it. What we've said is only a theory. We do know it can't have been a simple mugging. You were in the wrong place. We have some possible leads; I think we should try to follow them."

"I say again. So? If we want to follow this up, where do we start?" I asked.

I didn't know whether I really wanted to follow this up, especially if I was a cheating bastard, but on the other hand...

Keith was talking; Colin was nodding, "I think we try to find this Alsvik woman. If we can trace her, do you fancy going to Norway to talk to her, Allan? David, would you go? Allan may remember her."

"Alsvik sounds Swedish to me," I said and then stopped. "How did I think that?" I asked them. They laughed.

"You have a Swedish name Allan. You'll be tuned in to the sounds. We'll check your theory," said Colin, "Funny thing memory."

Once again it was Keith who came up with a new idea. "You said that Fanshaw had CCTV pics of the hotel and the railway booking office? Is it worth getting hold of them if Fanshaw's still got them? Allan might recognise her. The hotel in York may have her home address, they often keep registration details to send adverts to past patrons."

"Then why didn't the PI find it?" asked Colin. "I think they'd already deleted her record."

"Not thought of that," said Keith, deflated. "If that PI had any talent he would have tried to find the record. If all else fails it may be worth double checking."

"Well, let's divide the work," said David. "I'll get back to the PI I used in Sweden. You've just confirmed that the name was Swedish, and you'd know, being of Swedish extraction. I remember now looking up the name and finding it was Swedish. Well that'll save us some time. I'll get the Alsviks he turned up and get him to try phoning round. If I strike lucky we should go over there."

"I don't follow," I interjected. "You said this PI didn't find her. They would have known my name, surely they'd make a connection?"

"The PI was looking for you. He didn't approach the women. If you were having an affair it could have ruined her marriage, if she was married that is. I didn't want that. Also a PI sniffing round might have started some unfounded suspicions in husbands of innocent women. So I told him to look for you and you alone, using the Alsvik name. Colin, could you try to get that York PI's report from Fanshaw?"

"No problem, I'll tell them we're reviewing the missing person's file on behalf of the Yorkshire force. I can twist his arm if he gets difficult."

I looked around the table at these three men. What friends they were! Even though they might suspect I had been a real bastard to Ann, they still wanted me to find out who did this dreadful thing to me. I tried to stutter out my gratitude but they dismissed my attempts. They told me I had always been a good friend to them and had helped each of them financially on occasion. 

"And," said Keith, "I still can't believe you would ever have done something like that to Ann. I'm keeping an open mind."

"As are we all," added Colin. David just smiled a satisfied smile.

The rest of the evening passed happily. Plenty of banter and poking fun at me telling me tall stories about my past, none of which I believed, and after Vivienne had dropped me off at my flat I fell into bed and slept soundly.

I awoke early the next morning. I had to remember it was Saturday, not because of my memory but because it was difficult keeping track of the days. There was little structure to my life and Saturday was no different from other days.

Saturday morning was a true winter's day with heavy rain and windy with it. I turned on the TV and watched the news channel for half an hour while I had my breakfast. It's a good way to get yourself thoroughly depressed. Then came a ring at the door. I opened it to a man I knew I should recognise. He was soaked.

"Hello?" I said. I must have looked puzzled.

"It's Geoff. From Work?" he ventured, then I knew him.

"Come in Geoff." 

"I've brought you a few things," At his feet were three or four packages. "A laptop, and a scanner and printer. And something else." I helped him with the parcels.

I led him to the second bedroom where he began to set everything up. 

"I'll get BT to connect the broadband," he said, "Their private house service is crap, but I'll get them under business use. Take a few days, I should think. Still, this laptop's got all the history of the company while you've been away: sales, accounts, research, special projects etc. Also photo's and CVs of all the staff, it may help you to memorise them."

I went and made tea, and a coffee for Geoff at his request. When I returned he was sitting in the living room, holding a small piece of equipment.

"This may help with your memory," he said, "I was working on it a few months ago, and had another go at it yesterday afternoon. Seems to be working. Got a mobile?"

Had I? I looked at a loss.

"I thought David gave you one?" 

Then I remembered and fished it out of my coat pocket. He fiddled for a few minutes and then sat back with a satisfied smile.

"This little darling is a prototype. Things are moving quickly in this field. I'll move the SIM card over to it," he said, doing it. "It is a mobile phone but much more. It's got a huge memory, you'll never fill it. It's wireless. It also has a GPS connection and SATNAV so you can find out where you are if you get lost, and it'll tell you the way home. It's got a full name and photo of everyone you need to know. You take the photo and speak their name. There's a menu which comes up when you open it. I went round last night and got a good few names and photos of people you know. You can also speak anything you want to remember or key it in like a text message. You can make lists and use it as a diary. You can set it to remind you to do things. Of course you can take photos and text people as well. Give it a few years and everyone will have one."

He worked with me for an hour, reminding me how the laptop worked and repeatedly testing me on the new mobile until I seemed to be remembering how to use it. He phoned the mobile from his and when the phone rang the memory put up his picture and name and what he did for a living! I was impressed, still am! Nowadays mobile phones can now do all this and more, then it was little known. 

He told me he would pick me up on the Thursday of the next week, when Trish had gone back. I thought that was good idea, and it would give me a chance to settle in. He said he would phone me in the meantime for a chat.

I dragooned him into moving the second double bed into the second bedroom, which he was happy to do.

After he had gone, weighed down with my gratitude, I played with the laptop and the phone over and over again until they were second nature to me. 

I was pleased when the rain stopped. 'Rain before seven, fair before eleven.' I remembered the saying my mother used to swear by! So then I went shopping for something for our evening meal, writing the shopping list on the little thing. It worked. While out I tried the GPS and was told the street I was in. This was fun. I put in 'home' as the destination and there was a route for me! Fun!

I had just sorted it to my satisfaction when the doorbell went again and there stood a small man in a fluorescent jacket.

"Driving lesson?" he queried, and I remembered David had set me up for it. 

Four hours later I was sitting in the living area of my flat, feeling successful, virtuous and optimistic for my future. I could drive an automatic car with ease and without any pain at all. I drove all over Sale, Timperley, Altrincham, Bowden and Hale and began to remember many of the roads. My instructor said I was as safe as anyone else on the roads. Life was looking up.

To be ready for Trish's arrival, I had bought steak, potatoes, green beans and frozen corn -- and ice cream. I had peeled and chipped the potatoes, leaving them in water so they wouldn't discolour, and trimmed the beans. I blessed the landlord for including a deep fat fryer in the kitchen appliances, until, that is, I looked inside and found it empty and filthy dirty. So out to the shop again for oil. 

I returned home and then I spent nearly an hour cleaning up the fryer until it was fit to receive the oil.

This done, I awaited the arrival of my lover. The afternoon before, I had phoned her, making sure she was coming for the weekend and that she was bringing the rest of my things. She seemed excited and I gave her the address. She would drive over Saturday afternoon and reach me in the evening. 

It got later and later. Supper time passed and still I waited. She arrived at ten. Her kiss was perfunctory and she was past me and into the living area before I could react.

"Sorry," she said. "I overslept. Then I had to load the car."

There was something wrong about her. I went over to her to hug her but she made for the door. 

"Let's get your stuff inside then we can relax." 

She smiled but I could see it was forced.

So we did. Then she fussed over getting all my things in the right places. Finally I went into the living area and sat down. Trish went to the loo. She was a long time. There was something seriously wrong. She was avoiding me.

When she emerged I gestured to her to come and sit with me. She came with what I could only surmise was a guilty look. 

"Well?" I asked.

"Allan, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for Trish?" 

"Last night," she spoke softly with her head down, "I went out with the crowd. It was Tony's birthday. We went dancing. You know how I love dancing and I haven't been out dancing for ages. Oh it's not your fault. I didn't miss it until I got the chance to go out last night."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"It's not that. I got drunk. And..."

"And?"

"I had sex with someone. One of the other nurses. He used a condom." She sat still gazing at the floor.

Well, I thought, that's a surprise. We had made no exclusive contract; she was entitled to live her own life. She was not endangering my life: she made the guy wear a condom. We were friends with sexual extras; we expressed our friendship in many ways and one of them was sex. 

Who was I kidding? I was annoyed. I felt betrayed as if we had an exclusive relationship, but I couldn't say anything because we didn't. 

"Well say something!"

"Trish I've nothing to say. You're a free woman. You said over and over that we have no strings sex. So what's your problem?" but I didn't hide my irritation very well.

"You're upset."

"Why? Should I be? I don't own you."

"I feel guilty Allan. I feel I've betrayed our relationship. I don't understand your reaction. You're saying one thing and it's obvious your feelings are different. You're angry? Disappointed? Jealous? You have a right to be; I've let you down. Once a slag always a slag."

"So it wasn't no strings sex we've been having? You think we have something more? Yet you slept with someone else? Is that what you're saying?"

"It's not that. It's Valentine's day today and instead of waiting and longing to make love with you, I was shagging some bloke from work. Now I feel uncomfortable about it. Forgive me?"

"I just don't know what to make of all this. Is there anything to forgive? Do we have a commitment that you should need forgiving? When you took me on, you said it was no-strings sex. Last week you said there was something more, but you never said there were now some strings. So why beat yourself up over it?"

"Allan, last night I had sex. I was drunk. It was what I used to do. I used to feel it was OK, the sex, but never so good I wanted to do it with the same guy again. Then there was you. The sex was different right from the start. You didn't want to use me, you worshipped me; you loved me as well as having me. You put me first every time, and from then on I didn't want anyone else. The strings were your strings. You tied them. That's why I feel guilty."

"OK I gave you my love. I gave you gratitude to begin with, but we've become closer and closer. Yes, I love you and I always will. When you told me you'd fucked someone else I couldn't work out how I felt. Perhaps you're right. Perhaps it's possessiveness. Perhaps I feel jealous. Or just confused. I really don't know. I'll get over it."

What exactly did she want of our relationship? I needed to know.

"Trish, if I told you a secretary from work had come on to me, she came back here and fucked the life out of me, how would you feel?"

"Has she?"

"Good God, Trish!" I exploded. "Don't answer my question with another question. Just imagine I have the option of some sex while you're not here. How do you feel about that?"

"You want a revenge fuck?" she glanced up at me and saw the look in my eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I'm answering with a question again. OK. I don't like the idea. I hate the idea. I want you all to myself while we are together. That's why I feel guilty, I want something from you and haven't been faithful myself."

"What you're saying is that you want us to be monogamous while we're together; that you fell into old habits. Will you do that again?"

"No way!" 

"Then lets forget about it. I still have you and you have me. You haven't changed. You're still you. We alone have bareback sex, and only I get to put my semen inside you. I can't see I need any more than that, but if you go bareback with anyone else, that would be different and I trust you to tell me. You told me about last night so I trust you. Let's have something to eat."

She lunged forward and hugged me hard.

"I do love you so much!" she murmured. We kissed. It was a gentle loving kiss full of thankfulness on her part, and I felt good that she felt better about it. We got up and made a very late supper.




The Way Back Ch. 02



I updated her on my meeting with David, Colin and Keith and she was thoughtful. She said nothing then, but days later when she was leaving, she said something arresting. 

"It seems to me that your troubles originated here. I think your murderer lives here." 

When she said it, it was obvious of course, and I was then sure the other men had already reached that conclusion.

Her 'four' days were busy. Sunday afternoon we called on David and Vivienne, and I was relieved that they kept off the usual subject of Ann and a possible meeting with her or the children. It certainly cost Viv a great deal of effort and I thanked her sincerely with a hug for being so diplomatic. I still remember her beatific smile, and David's smug expression; it had obviously been a joint effort! 

We took in a play at the Lowry, a film, and dinner with Geoff and Susan Bucklow. Susan was eager to see Trish and size her up, and I was gratified that she took to her immediately. Geoff and I talked business all night, and Susan and Trish didn't stop talking either. Trish got hugs and kisses from both my new found old friends.

We also found a few hours to go for a walk in Dunham Park. 

Of course we made love. It was comfortable and easy. Ordinary people settle to a few positions and know each other's preferences, and we certainly did, but there was something different about it; a subtle change in our relationship, and we both noticed it.

As we stood by her car before she went back to Newcastle she looked into my eyes, searching for something.

"What?" I asked.

"Something's changed, hasn't it?"

"Yes, but relationships change all the time. We're still the same people Trish. We still love each other."

"Yes, but," she pursued, "what I did, you know, it's put a sort of distance between us. It's my fault and I'm really sorry. I've never had a relationship like ours, never allowed anything to develop before. 

"I didn't realise how binding, in a good way, sex can be. It sort of pulls us closer, opens us up to each other. I think that's why my slip on Friday was so damaging and why I feel so guilty. Casual sex is really a waste of time; it doesn't even satisfy like committed sex does. Am I being stupid?"

I smiled. "No. It makes perfect sense. I think that's what irritated me. Perhaps I couldn't see why you had to do it. Look my love, it's in the past now; let it go. I know I can. All your previous one-night stands didn't stop our relationship growing. Put Friday with them and let it go."

"I love you. You're so good for me," and she looked at me with such love.

"I love you too. You've saved my life you know," and I smiled back into her eyes. The closeness was back.

And we kissed and hugged and kissed again. And then she was gone.



The Way Back Ch. 03



NINE

I woke on Thursday to the sound of my phone telling me I had a text message. It was from Geoff, reminding me that he was picking me up at 8.30. I glanced at the clock by the bed: 7.30. 

Now for a man in good physical shape, an hour is plenty to get washed, dressed and breakfasted. For me it was not so easy, and so I missed breakfast.

Geoff took me to the Toyota Dealership and we leased an automatic car. It would be delivered within the week. Then we met some buyers and I watched Geoff trying to do the job I used to be so good at. I put in the odd comment and each one seemed to help. On the way back Geoff thanked me profusely for it seemed my meagre input swung the deal. I doubted it but he repeated that it was so. Once in the office I asked for the contract we were going to sign. It was a mess, I just knew it without knowing how I knew. I tidied it up and gave it to Judy to retype. Geoff's smile grew even broader. 

"With your memory, how did you know how to do that?"

"No idea!" I laughed, "it just came to me."

"If you do nothing more than you did today, say, once a month, you'll more than pay your way," he laughed, "You have a real talent in sales and especially contracts; must be in your genes." 

"Never wear them!" I quipped. It was a lie. Trish had bought me some.

I reminded him (while commenting on the irony of me reminding anyone of anything), that I would not be full time for a while. I had to get my life sorted out first, but I promised that I'd help out whenever I could. I went home by taxi feeling much better and called at the gym on the way, doing a half hour 'brisk' exercise.

I was making my evening meal when David rang. Was I joining the gang tonight? Yes I was, provided I got a lift. Same as last week it seemed, so by nine we were sitting in our accustomed corner when Colin, and then Keith came in. Once again I sensed an agenda.

David began once everyone had drinks. 

"While you were making hay, or sowing your oats with your girlfriend," he said to me with a smile which held no malice, "we've all been hard at work."

"Good," I replied. "I'd hate any of you to be idle. After all you have nothing else to do all day, do you?" 

My irony was appreciated. They knew I was grateful that they took the time in their busy lives.

Colin began.

"I contacted York and asked about your missing person file. It was still open after a fashion, so I told them we'd found you but that you had been viciously assaulted. I wondered if they had any info on your last day. They knew basically what we know. I know one of the blokes there and told him I was on the case, and he 'asked me' to follow up the re-opened file." He grinned at the subterfuge. 

"That meant I could legitimately go to Fanshaw. I took a DC and we called on Saturday morning. He wasn't delighted to see us. Interesting meeting. I asked him about the PI's report and he told me that they only needed it for the divorce and that he had destroyed it. So I asked him the name of the PI. He couldn't remember.

"Then things became interesting. Ann said she was sure she had his name and address and the photos somewhere and went off to search. Derek was not happy. He muttered and grumbled about losing his Saturday morning to a fruitless search for you Allan. Then Ann returned and she had the man's name and address and these photos." 

Colin laid them on the table.

There were four. The first showed a couple having a cup of coffee together, the second the same couple kissing, the third the same couple at the booking office at the railway station, and the fourth the same couple leaving the hotel. I looked at Colin and waited.

"Well that's you, and the woman we're looking for."

I looked at the photos again. So that was what I looked like.

"Yes," said David, very seriously. "You were a good looking bloke, at least that's what the women I know say. Those bastards robbed you of that."

"So what do we do with these, then?" I gestured at the photos.

"I've already sent digital copies to our friend in Sweden," said David, "He was delighted. So it looks as if we may now have some success there." He smiled encouragingly.

"Anyway," Colin added, "I looked Fanshaw's PI up on the register of PIs when I got back to the Station and he wasn't there. I tried the address and it was a fast food take-way. He's retired apparently. I've asked York to look for him and see if he's kept his records."

David took his turn. 

"The Swedish man is on the job. He's got a lot of names to get through though, but he's got the photos now. So we wait."

"From the look of these photos," I said dejectedly, "I had a relationship with this woman."

"Don't jump to conclusions," said David, "Let's find out for sure, eh?"

On Friday I was amazed to get my new car. The manual was so thick and detailed that it would take a degree to read it and I was sure there should have been an exam at the end. I skimmed it and opted for the brief guide, which told me all I wanted to know. 

My memory was coming back. I remembered university, mainly the work side, though there were flashes of parties and meetings in pubs. I drove around until I felt the car was part of me, and then called in on Geoff. Then on to physio. My physical progress was matching my memory recall. I felt good while aching all over.

On an impulse I called Trish and suggested I come over to Newcastle the next day.

"Checking up on me?" Trish asked. It was light-hearted but stung me. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Oh Allan, that was crass, I'm sorry. You have every right to check and I know you wouldn't dream of it."

"It's OK, I shouldn't be so sensitive. Perhaps I won't come after all."

"Oh no! Please come. I missed you terribly these past days. Tim asked me out again but I turned him down. I told him it was a big mistake and that my boyfriend was not happy at what we did. That frightened him!" 

She laughed. "So I've been faithful every night, though I did play with myself once."

"Wicked girl!" I said sternly. "I may need to punish you for that self-abuse."

"Oh, yes please," she sighed sensuously. "I need punishing. Come tomorrow. I know I will if you do!" A guttural laugh.

"God, Trish, you're insatiable."

"Yes, and you love it!"

I didn't feel ready to drive to Newcastle, so on Saturday morning I set off for the station. My short-term memory was still playing tricks, but I was confident now in my use of Geoff's mobile and in fact had no difficulty in remembering where I was going. I also remembered the bus in Newcastle to get to Trish's. I arrived mid-afternoon and she was home after her early shift.

When she opened the door, it was clear she had been waiting for me. She was wearing a plain white blouse which showed a white bra beneath, white knee socks and a deep blue pleated micro skirt which only just covered her pert buttocks, and as she threw her arms round my neck to kiss me, I could see her plain white knickers in the hall mirror as the skirt rode up. 

We kissed long and sensuously and my erection began to make itself felt and she giggled. My hands went to her bottom and swept up under the skirt to the waistband of her little panties, but she stopped me.

"Before you go any further, there is something you must do," she said with mischief in her eyes, and led me to the living room. She stood facing me. "Now you must punish me for being a bad girl," she said with a grin. "I need a spanking."

This was something new. Beyond a few encouraging light smacks as we neared orgasm we hadn't done any S and M, and I wasn't sure I wanted to, but I went along with it.

"Sit down," she said, "and I'll lie across you."

I sat down. "Take down your knickers!" I ordered, trying to get into character.

She reached up under her skirt and pulled the article down.

"Stop!" I cried, as the garment reached mid-thigh. She stopped and left it there, falling across my knee with her bottom before me, the position of her knickers giving me a hardness which I was sure she could feel.

"Now, punish me," she growled. "I'm ready."

So I began. I hit her upturned cheeks with the flat of my hand gently, after all this was sex play.

"No!" she cried. "Hard! Spank me hard."

I couldn't do it.

"Harder!"

I tried and failed, "Sorry, I can't do it, Trish."

"I need punishing for being unfaithful. Please, Allan!"

Why was she getting distressed?

"I'll tell you what," I said -- I was still hard, "As punishment give me a blow job. Then when I'm nearly there, I'll fuck you from behind and come before you can. Then you can be frustrated until bedtime."

She sat up and looked at me. "Really?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I didn't get turned on by trying to spank you."

"Yes you did! I could feel it!" she began to smile. Thank God, I thought.

"No it wasn't the spanking, it was your little pure white knickers coming half way down your thighs," I sniggered. "Now, are you going to accept your punishment?"

She did not answer, but slid off the sofa and knelt before me, her knickers still at half-mast, stretched wide by her separated knees. She undid my pants and I lifted my bottom so she could slide them down along with my underpants. She slid back my foreskin and took me gently the way I liked it. 

It did not take her long to get me near to orgasm, and she sensed it and pulled away, turning her back and presenting herself to me on hands and knees. I knelt behind her and thrust into her. She was wet and I slipped in easily. I began to fuck her with long slow strokes on the edge of my orgasm all the time, getting her excited. Then, when she began to groan as she neared her release I speeded up and came strongly, pushing my cock into her as far as it would go as I released my semen deep into her. Then I quickly withdrew and heard her moan of frustration.

"You want to come?" I asked, reaching down to her sopping slit.

"Yes!, but I'm not going to. Take your fingers away." 

I loved her for that.

My knees ached from being on the floor, but she helped me up. Then we dressed and went into Newcastle for a meal. Neither of us brought up what had happened between us and I felt we were both avoiding the subject. There were questions about her reaction to her 'unfaithfulness' that needed to be answered, if that is, I could work out what the questions were. 

However Trish seemed to be feeling a lot better, though she sat down gingerly at the restaurant, saying she felt 'squishy' from my earlier donation.

We went to a bar and had a few drinks before returning to her flat. Once in bed, Trish wrapped herself round me, rubbing her slit against my thigh. I pretended not to understand what she wanted, until she sighed in desperation. She was not going to ask for release from her frustration. 

However, my penis gave me away and she chuckled as she took charge of it, working her finger magic on it and on my balls and perineum. I gave in and ran my hands over her body eliciting those little mewling sounds that showed her appreciation and growing excitement. 

I kept clear of her more erogenous zones until she began to move her body to try to meet my fingers. Then I gave in further and stroked her breasts with one hand and her vertical and horizontal creases down below with the other until she began to gasp with pleasure, when I rolled on top of her and penetrated her soaking cunt, her legs scissoring over my back as she rotated her hips to drive me further in and press me hard against her sex for maximum stimulation.

It did not take long. My own orgasm was slow in coming after my earlier experience, but she was already primed and rapidly began her extended climax, at first wild and utterly intense as she gasped and cried out and twitched and yelped, then as it reduced in intensity and I could feel only a gentle thrill from her vagina, she began to sigh with relief. That was my signal to thrust hard and fast, and to submit to my own release. 

We really were very good together, and that made me very happy. Here was I, aged over forty, ugly as sin with my reconstructed face and battered body, and she in her mid twenties, beautiful, shapely and long legged. This was why I hadn't expected permanence or faithfulness from her, and why I couldn't understand her overwhelming guilt at her dalliance with Tim. I said as much as we relaxed in the afterglow.

She then began to talk almost as if to herself. 

"When I was eighteen I fell in love with a boy. We had sex and I was so into him, but he dumped me after a few weeks. He'd got what he wanted, he'd broken in a virgin. He boasted about it all over school. I was mortified. Then other lads hit on me. Now that I was broken in I was thought to be easy. I wasn't. None of them lasted more than one date. Then about six months later I really fell for another boy and again the relationship lasted until we'd had sex for a couple of weeks. He dumped me too. 

"I was just nineteen. I enjoyed the sex, but both times I was used and heart-broken. I think that was when my best friend started taking me out on Saturday nights. She talked and I listened. She talked about boys and that they were after one thing and so was she. Have fun, have sex, always use a condom, and just enjoy your real friends -- girl friends. I realised I agreed with her. Boys used girls, why shouldn't girls use boys. So that's been my life until..."

"Until you met me?"

"Until I met you. You needed me and I loved being needed, part of being a nurse I suppose. Our relationship grew without sex. I used to pick lads for their looks but always made sure they were gentle, I couldn't abide the arrogant ones who thought you needed to be taken hard, often before you were ready. 

"You weren't good looking but I'd been with you through the worst of your recovery and we had been through it all together. We shared our lives and gradually I began to fancy you. This time it was not a boy's hard body but a man's courage and guts that did it for me. I wanted you sexually as well as everything else and I used your fear of going out to have my way with you. 

"I thought I was in the driving seat. I was going to teach you about sex. But then... that first time... you worshipped me and you loved me. I'd always taken sex from lads on one-night stands and they'd taken sex from me, but you gave, and I found myself giving as well. So we always made love; we have, haven't we?"

"Yes."

"I never got any closer to the guys I fucked. I only went with a couple of guys more than once. I thought the sex was good, until we started making love. Then all that fucking I'd done, well, it wasn't really up to much. I got orgasms, I made sure the men gave them to me, but now there's so much more and even the orgasms are deeper and more intense. 

"Now sex is telling you how much I love you, and I know you're telling me you love me. Oh I know it's unlikely we'll be together for life, but now, this moment, our lovemaking is about just that, love.

"When I went with Tim it was out of habit. That's what I'd done for years, got drunk and then fuck the nicest bloke I could find. I think it was while he was screwing me I realised that I wasn't getting anything from it. He tried to get me off but nothing happened. I faked it in the end. And then the guilt!" 

She tensed and I squeezed her to reassure her.

"Trish, you have nothing to be ashamed of," I said gently, though aware I was repeating myself. "You give yourself to me, without condoms and that means the world to me. You love me; you stuck with me through the really dark times. So you fucked up once? You found it wasn't enough for you. Perhaps you needed to do it the old way to show yourself that for you there's a better way. 

"Personally I'm grateful for anything and everything you do for me. I can't commit to you, we've been through all that, so I don't expect you to commit to me. And once more, don't forget our age difference."

We hugged and I felt her tears wet on my chest.

"What that for now?"

"I'm so happy with you, that's all."

"No more guilt?"

"No more guilt, but I don't think I'll be fucking strangers ever again. You've spoilt me for that! Not that I mind. I was a hormonal teenager when I fell in love before. Somehow my love for you, and probably for anyone who may come later is more measured, less intense but rock solid. I like it this way."

And that was that. We slept. As far as I remember (which isn't necessarily saying much) we never discussed our relationship again, apart from telling each other that we loved each other.

Sunday morning we were awoken by the phone. It was David.

"Sorry to wake you. I've been trying to find you all weekend. Our man in Sweden has found your woman. Do you fancy a trip to Stockholm on Tuesday?"

I did not have to think for long. David promised to get the airfares and book a hotel. "Your woman is living in Vasteras, about an hour's drive from Stockholm. Tell you all on the way. Tomorrow I'll let you know the time of the flight; you are coming back tomorrow?"

I assured him I was returning the next morning and he chuckled and rang off.

We were awake. What does one do with one's lover when awake on a Sunday morning? Well we did that, then we dressed and walked to the shops for a paper or two. Trish had croissants in the freezer and we brewed coffee to go with them. The day was relaxed with a restaurant lunch, a gentle walk in the afternoon and a comfortable evening with some music, then slow lovemaking and sleep. 

Trish was on lates during the new week and so saw me off at the station. We agreed she would come next weekend when she had some extra days and I suggested we take the new car for a couple of days in Wales.

On arrival at Piccadilly Station I took a taxi home to the flat, checked all was well and then drove to the factory, getting a beatific smile from Judy as I entered the holy of holies. It was worth going in just for that. Geoff already knew of my impending trip to Sweden and had the name and address of Jan Thomasson, the buyer from Sweden with whom I'd done business in York. 

"It may help to jog that memory of yours a little more," he grinned.

He gave me a run down on how things were going and I settled to tighten up a couple of contracts made while I was away. I again apologised for not being there as often as I should have been, but he laughed it off.

"You come in here for two hours and make us a lot of money, Allan," he said, "and you don't get under my feet! By the way, it's cold in Sweden at this time of year. Have you got a really warm coat and hat?"

I hadn't, so he took me to what he called 'a proper man's shop' and kitted me out with a greatcoat, scarf, an all-enveloping hat and thick gloves. That done I drove him back to the factory and then went back to the flat where I phoned David. He was busy but phoned me back later. He reminded me that he had my passport and told me that we were flying from Manchester to Arlanda, the flight taking about two hours, followed by a train journey to Vasteras via Stockholm taking another two hours in all. He had booked a hotel in central Vasteras in which we could take stock and decide how to go about the interview. I told him I had the address of my business contact in Stockholm and he said he could factor that in for the return journey.

I packed a bag and went to bed early, immediately after phoning Trish. It had been a busy day and I slept well.

------ 

TEN 

I awoke at dawn, which in mid February is about seven, so I had time for a shower and breakfast before the taxi containing David arrived. The journey was uneventful. As the train sped from Stockholm to Vasteras, I was intrigued, not so much by the red painted houses as by the feeling that this was all somehow familiar. I wondered if I had spent any time as a child or youth in Sweden. 




The Way Back Ch. 03



The hotel was comfortable and the staff efficient and attentive, and in the case of the receptionist strikingly beautiful. She was almost a caricature of a Swedish beauty, ash blond hair, deep blue eyes and a statuesque figure. She had a face that demanded to be gazed at in wonder and this we dutifully did. 

She was clearly used to the treatment and smiled indulgently as she took us through the registration process in wonderfully lilting English. She did not react in any way to my appearance which sent her up in my estimation. At this point there came another revelation.

She turned and spoke to another woman behind the desk and when she turned back I thanked her and asked her where the lift was.

"Turn left along that corridor and you'll find it on your left."

"Thank you."

"You speak good Swedish. Do you come from Stockholm?" she said in English.

At this point I stopped dead and looked puzzled. David laughed.

"He didn't know he could speak Swedish!" he told the girl, "and I don't think he realised he was speaking it! He's had a bad accident and lost his memory."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can see you have suffered a lot," she said, this time I knew it was Swedish. 

"Your eyes are quite beautiful, so kind and deep. Perhaps your parents spoke Swedish at home? Your accent is very good."

I stammered that I didn't know, but that they were Swedish. 

"Well," she said, "if there's anything you need, ask for Greta."

"That's my daughter's name."

"Oh, you have a wife and family?"

"A family and an ex-wife."

"I'm sorry. Anything you want, anything, just ask."

David asked what we'd been talking about, and when I relayed the conversation he nudged my arm as we ascended in the lift. 

"You're in there!" he laughed. "When she said anything, she meant anything! I could tell by her expression and the tone of voice!"

"Patricia," I said solemnly, giving him a hard look.

"Point taken," but he laughed again, "It just that I would have thought that Greta is the chance of a lifetime."

"Trish is the chance for a lifetime," I replied in a lighter tone. "She's more than enough for me."

"That's what the three of us were saying about you before we met you at the pub. You are not the cheating kind of man. You are one of the faithful ones. I still think it's in your genes."

We arrived at our rooms and I invited him in for a nightcap and a plan of action for the morning. Our PI, Mr Hultmann, had already asked if we could see Mrs Alsvik the next day, so we needed to phone to arrange a time. David did this and we were set to meet her in the lobby of the hotel at 10.30. She had taken the day off work, for which David thanked her profusely.

When he rang off we discussed tactics for the meeting.

"What's the best approach, d'you think?" asked David.

"Well, you're the lawyer. I thought you were trained in this sort of thing."

"OK," said David decisively. "We could ask her what she remembered of the day and take it from there."

"She probably won't recognise me. If she's responsible for my beating up we need to be careful."

"So we give her the chance to tell us what she knows, then ask questions gently. I think we can find out quite a lot. We should wait to reveal who you are until we know more."

I thought that was sensible. So we finished our drinks and retired to bed.

After breakfast the next morning, I went for a walk alone through the snow. It did not seem very cold, and indeed it wasn't -- for Sweden, about the same as at home, except for the snow. I returned refreshed and knocked on David's door. He was ready and had paper, pen and recorder.

"I won't use them unless she's cooperative," he said. "Any statement she makes on paper could be useful though."

We sat in the lobby and waited, the photo in front of us. David saw her first and went to meet her, bringing her over. 

"If you don't mind, Mrs Alsvik, I won't introduce my friend for the moment. You'll soon realise why. Can you humour me?"

"Yes, of course. Now how may I help you?"

"It's initially a missing person enquiry. I'm the gentleman's lawyer and I've got to get as much information together as I can for a court case. You were in York at the end of August just over two years ago?"

"That would be during the races? Yes."

"I have a photograph of a CCTV record showing you with someone. Can you tell me anything about him?" He showed her the photo.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

"You remember him?"

"Yes, and he is not my favourite person. He was so good and he said he would keep in touch and -- nothing. I tried his mobile after one then two weeks, but it was not in operation."

"Can you tell me the story? It would help me a great deal, and may I record it?"

She nodded and began. "We had been in York for a week on holiday. Well, half holiday, half a little work for Lorenz, he is my husband. Lorenz had to see a client for an hour, while I checked out of the hotel. 

"Allan, the man in the photo, heard me give my name and he asked me, in Swedish, if I was one of the Vasteras Alsviks, and did I know the Jonssons? Of course my maiden name was Jonsson as well, and it turned out he was a cousin of mine. We were both checking out of the hotel, so after doing that we went for a coffee -- that's the picture you have there. We had just met.

"He wanted to know why the families had lost touch, and I was able to give him the sad history of our grandfathers falling out; they were brothers.

"Well, suddenly I realised I had to get to the station or we would miss our train. Lorenz was nowhere to be seen. Allan gave me his mobile phone to call him. He, Lorenz that is, told me to go to the station and we would meet there. 

"Allan said he was going to the station as well, so we went together. Then I had a thought. Lorenz had the credit cards, and I could not book the train to London. Allan was wonderful; he offered to buy the tickets for us. 

"So I hugged him, that's the second photo. Then we got a taxi to the station and he bought the tickets for us. I asked him to call or write and gave him our address and email address and phone number. He promised. 

"At the last minute Lorenz arrived and we rushed to the train and got on board. We had gone out of the station when I realised that we had not repaid him. We still haven't. I did not get his address, only his cell phone number. Does that help? I cannot think how."

"Well, Mrs. Alsvik--"

"Please call me Felicia."

"Well Felicia, Allan was the one who went missing. In fact after those photos nothing was heard of him. He disappeared."

She paled and her hand went to her mouth. David hastened to put her mind at rest.

"It's all right, Felicia, he's been found, but I'm afraid you're in for a shock. He was found badly beaten up in Newcastle about four hours later."

Felicia suddenly looked up and over at me, "Allan?" she asked tremulously.

"Yes, Felicia, I'm afraid so. They did a thorough job on me as you can see. It's a long story. It's been a long road to where you can see me now, and I'm afraid I've no recollection of you or anything that happened that day. That's what we're trying to do, put together the story of what happened to me. Those photos were used by my wife to divorce me. It was assumed that we'd run off together."

Felicia was looking more and more shocked.

"David," I said urgently. "Get us some drinks. Felicia here needs one."

"Coffee!" she hastened to say. "I am driving and the laws are strict."

David got three coffees and we drank in silence for a while. Then Felicia seemed to gather herself. 

"Your wife should be told. Do you want me to phone her?"

"Too late for that, Felicia," I said tonelessly. "She's arranged to marry someone else. I don't want to mess up her life again."

"But it wasn't you!"

"She's making a new life. He's a nice bloke from what I know of him. I don't want to make trouble for them."

She thought for a while, then, "You must both come back to the house and have dinner with us." She smiled broadly. "We can pay you for the train tickets!"

She would take no refusal and we were driven to her house, where we spent the day until Lorenz came home. Part of the time was taken with David typing out Felicia's statement and getting her to swear to it and seal it as an affidavit. Lorenz had his story similarly recorded and attested.

Of course they had to hear the whole story of my life subsequent to our meeting. I was getting better and better at telling it. They were delighted I'd found Trish but sorry that it seemed a limited liaison. 

In return Felicia told me the history of the family, coming eventually to the story of our respective grandfathers.

It turned out that my grandfather was engaged to a pretty young thing. He had to go away on the family firm's business and when he returned some months later, he found his brother, Felicia's grandfather, had got the girl pregnant and married her. The brothers never spoke to each other again. My grandfather was paid off and left Vasteras for good. He married, and the couple came to England where they had a son, my father, but no other children.The two sides of the family totally lost contact.

I learned much later that my father visited Sweden in his early twenties and met my mother there, and after a whirlwind romance over two weeks, she returned to Britain with him! My mother and father regularly went to Sweden with me to visit her relatives, but I lost contact after her death. Since I spoke Swedish fairly fluently, they must have spoken it at home.

We parted from Felicia and Lorenz with mutual promises to keep in touch. I promised not to get beaten up on the way home, and this time they had my flat address and phone number, and I had theirs.

After we returned to the hotel by taxi, we adjourned to the bar for extremely expensive drinks -- nothing extravagant, all alcoholic drinks are expensive in Sweden! It was time to consider what we had heard. 

We agreed that Felicia and Lorenz had cleared up one mystery. She was not a femme fatale luring me to a mugging with her sexual favours. Nor had I been having an affair. However it brought us no nearer to my beating up, or the reason for it, beyond a straight mugging, but that in turn was countered by my mysterious arrival in Newcastle, dumped from the red car. 

"There's another thing," said David taking a sip of his beer. "These photos from the CCTV footage don't show Lorenz anywhere. Why not? He must have walked through the station and joined you both. Why didn't the PI find those shots?"

"If you think about it," I reflected, "the PI would have got the hotel shots first, and Lorenz would already have left. So he wouldn't have been looking for a third person. He would have stopped looking once he got me and Felicia at the booking office, and Lorenz, from what he said, met us briefly there and then they ran out of the booking area and straight onto the train.

"The CCTV could have missed him altogether. Colin said the CCTV only takes frames every so many seconds, so it's not like a film. Shame though. It would have made things much clearer for Derek and Ann if Lorenz had been seen with Felicia and me, and shaking hands with me. Ann might have still been waiting for news, she might have looked harder for me; even found me."

"Unlikely. I think the chance of her finding you in Newcastle was non-existent. Don't forget you had no identification on you and you weren't exactly recognisable!"

I had to agree. So we had to be content with what we had. The next day we were on our way home. That day was really cold. We visited Jan Thomasson, the buyer I'd done business with in York, at his office in Stockholm, but beyond being appalled at my condition and expressing his condolences, he was unable to help. He had left the hotel earlier that day, and in any case didn't see me because he was at the races. He was able to attest that I had not consorted with any women while at the hotel. So at least I had three different witnesses who agreed I had been faithful to Ann all the time.

That was of little use; it would not affect the divorce. If I were to crash in on Ann and Derek at this stage, there was that catch twenty-two situation of her reaction to the new me, and the necessity of her choosing Derek or me. I'd been through all that over and over, and it would not work. The divorce should go through. Hell, I hadn't even set eyes on the woman yet! 

I said as much to David and he muttered that it was time I took a look at the woman I was giving up. I didn't like the tone of his voice: would she affect me that much? I couldn't see how.

So we returned home on Thursday armed with three affidavits and a lot of knowledge about my family, and some family I never knew I had before, and so it had been a productive journey. 

As we travelled from the airport, I idly wished my parents had lived longer, dying as they did relatively young, soon after one another when I was at university. From them I could have gained some more information about my family in Sweden, but that's a common story; the young are not interested in family history and when they do take an interest it is often too late. In any case, all that knowledge was now lost to me.

------ 

ELEVEN

On Friday I felt tired when I woke up. It had been an emotional few days and my poor old body was reacting against the strain. But I dragged myself out of bed, showered, shaved and breakfasted, keeping myself on the go. I drove to work and arrived before Geoff. I was looking through the specifications for the latest round of jobs when he arrived.

He was eager to know what had transpired in Sweden and I gave him the whole story.

"Well," he said when I had finished. "So the woman did not lure you to the mugging. I'm glad Jan Thomasson was able to give you a clean moral bill of health! Not that I ever suspected you of anything. So when are you going to meet Ann and acquaint her with the truth of the matter?"

"I've not thought things through yet, Geoff. I need some time to assimilate the new knowledge. My immediate reaction is to let her get on with her life. Facing her with the news that she was wrong about me can only hurt her."

"But Susan thinks you're going to have to meet your children. They deserve that, Allan. More, they are entitled to it, don't you think?"

"Yes, I want them to have me in their lives again, but I have to do things carefully. They aren't going to be too badly damaged by another few weeks. After the decree absolute I think would be the time to start thinking about it. David has already secured access rights, very open ended as well, so there won't be a problem. He says Ann has a strong sense of justice and doesn't want to deprive them of their father. That bodes well, but I don't want to mess Ann up in the process."

"You have some feelings for her then?"

"No, not really, she's a person and I wouldn't want to mess her about. I wouldn't mess anyone else about so why start with her?"

"OK, point taken."

We moved on to business and worked together for the rest of the day. I was going to cancel my physio when I awoke that morning, but after the day's work I felt better and went for my regular pounding. It did me good as it always did, I could tell by the aching joints!

On Saturday I rose late for me, about ten. I decided to go walking in the Peaks. I drove out there and walked onto Kinder Scout, remembering to walk for half the time I wanted to be there, so I could spend the same time coming back. It is all uphill going and therefore downhill coming back. 

My intention was to spend the time thinking. In reality I hardly thought at all, but my body, especially my legs got a fine work out. When the air is freezing and the wind is so strong that you need to lean into it and then it begins to rain and the rain turns to sleet and hits you horizontally, you stop thinking and all attention is on the weather and the struggle against it.

I'd had enough of the great outdoors and drove home. It was only when I'd parked the car at the flat that I realised I had driven the route from memory without thinking. That felt really good!

As I sank into my favourite armchair and enjoyed the winter sun slanting across the room, I felt utterly content. I began to consider my life so far. Since I returned to Manchester I'd been the centre of the hopes and enthusiasm of my friends. I'd been sucked into the search for the meaning of my injuries; for the solution to the mystery. I'd been on the receiving end of a campaign to get me back with Ann who I still did not know. 

Through it all, there was Trish. She had been the solid home for my spirit; my encouragement and support. The thought began to take shape that after all, the two of us might settle down together permanently. I had rehearsed all the reasons why this would not work, but after her guilt trip about Tim I wondered if she were ready for a totally committed relationship. Perhaps, I thought. The time away together in Wales might clarify things. But, I reasoned, I really had everything in life I needed as things stood. Of course I had completely forgotten about New Zealand.

I realised I needed to settle more into work. It was my company and I should be more involved. My physical health was improving; I hardly needed the stick except when I got tired. My limbs still ached, but the physio and gym work were countering the worst of it and I was physically very fit. Mentally my memory was returning in spurts, and my short-term memory constantly surprised me, though I still carried Geoff's little wonder as a back up.

The problem was getting some memory of Ann and the children. I remembered a family playing in the back garden at Cherry Tree it was more what they played: catch, frisbee, cricket etc. rather than what they looked like. I sporadically remembered things about their school life: Greta's exam results, or the older lad coming back from a school trip. It was again what happened rather than a picture of the event. What I did not have was any memory of my emotional life with Ann or even of any moments of affection. It puzzled me but I was confident such memories would return in time.

It was dark by the time my thoughts drew to an end and I felt much better. There is something satisfying about watching the winter sun set and the growing coldness of the night outside repelled by the warmth of the flat. I stirred myself to make a sandwich for my evening meal and a pot of tea. I had just finished when the phone rang. It was Trish phoning from work.

"Allan, I've something to ask you."

My heart sank. What disappointment was coming my way? 

"Well?" I asked, my feelings evident in my voice.

"Hey! Cheer up! I wanted to ask if I drove over tonight you would mind?"

My spirits lifted at once. "I'd be delighted!" Now I was smiling.

"It'll be very late, one or two a.m."

"No problem; just use your key, I won't bolt the door."

I went to bed and was sound asleep when I felt a warm body slide into bed beside me. I vaguely wondered who it was, but was asleep again before I could answer my own muddled question. In the morning I woke early as usual to find her sleeping peacefully beside me, a half smile on her pretty face. 

I left her sleeping and went to buy a newspaper. I was doing the crossword when I heard her go to the bathroom, and made a pot of tea with which to greet her when she went back to bed. I took it to her and had begun to undress to get back into bed when she insisted we get up and set off for Wales as soon as we'd had some breakfast. I was a little disappointed but acquiesced, and within the hour we were on our way, with the winter sun at our backs and the early Sunday roads relatively empty.

The hotel was good, the food excellent and the weather mainly dry if cold, the wind being from the north off the sea. We had a leisurely few days, touring in the car to places where we could hike. We went to the coast and, suitably muffled against the biting wind, walked along the beach enjoying the sight and sound of the breakers. It was, she said, almost as cold as Tynemouth! 




The Way Back Ch. 03



We got back to the hotel mid afternoon each day and spent the time before dinner making relaxed and sensual love in the huge newly made bed. There is a peacefulness which arises between couples who fit well together and have no need to impress. We talked about all sorts of things, but often were silent with each other and the silence was comfortable.

I think that was what clinched it for me. We were comfortable together; our love making left nothing to be desired; she had said that she was past the stage of one-night stands and wanted loving commitment in her love making. Ann was marrying Derek and was settled. Our ages were disparate, true, but if she didn't mind neither did I. 

So it was at dinner on Tuesday night, our last night before going home, that I decided to take the plunge and ask her if she would like to make our relationship permanent when she forestalled me.

"Allan?" I looked up from the excellent seafood platter.

"I need to tell you something. You know I said I wanted to join my family in New Zealand? Well, now you're settled back at your hometown, I've decided that I'll make plans to emigrate. I've begun the process already but I felt I needed to tell you as soon as possible."

It came as a body blow, or shall I say my stomach sank? Or the bottom dropped out of my world? Well not quite, but the shock on my face was obvious.

"Oh God, Allan!" she cried softly, "I never meant to hurt you! I thought--"

I found my voice -- and my self control. 

"No Trish. It's just come as a shock, you telling me out of the blue like that. I suppose it would always come as a shock now we've become so close. I know I should have expected it; after all, you did say that it was in your plans, but somehow it was always going to be a wrench. I just wasn't ready for it to be so soon."

"Allan, if I thought you would come with me, I'd be looking at marrying you. You don't mind me saying that, do you?"

I shook my head.

"But you won't leave here, I know. You care too much about your business and the people who work there. And there are your children. I know you want to get to know them, but I need my family around me as well; my parents are getting old and will need me. My father has already had a slight stroke. Will you be all right?"

"Trish, my darling, I think I was shocked because we were getting, have got, so close. I have to admit I thought of marriage myself, but here, not New Zealand. You're right; I can't leave the life I've just rediscovered, though it will be awfully empty without you. You're so much part of me now and I owe you so much."

At this the tears came for both of us and we ate the rest of the meal in silence. Then we made for our room, stripped each other and fell into bed and hugged our nakedness together hard. Our hands roamed over each other as if to commit to memory every part of our bodies. I was hard and all she had to say was 'please', as she rolled on top of me. I was more than ready as she put me inside her and sank down until we were totally meshed together. 

Then she fell forward and put all her weight on me. That in itself was symbolic, because for many weeks she had been unable to put weight on me without causing me pain. She was telling me that I was as whole as I'd ever be but that she too would always miss me. 

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her more tightly on top of me, and there we stayed for a long time, until she felt my erection begin to subside and sat up to ride me back to hardness, and then on to her own orgasm and to mine, her breasts swinging to and fro as she rose and fell, until I caught them and tweaked her nipples. It was enough and she cried out as she came, and I came after, sent over the edge by her own climax.

Afterwards she resumed her prone position and when my cock slipped from her, she in turn slipped off me and we cradled each other in our arms, rocking each other gently to and fro.

"Allan."

"Yes, my darling."

"It'll be some weeks before I go. Can we go on like we are until then?"

"Making love, you mean. Visiting each other?"

"Yes."

"Of course. I want every bit of you I can get until you slip from my arms."

She snuffled, and her face was wet, "There's one more thing."

"Yes?"

"If someone else comes along, you know, another woman, don't keep her at arm's length just because of me. Promise me you'll take her on."

"Trish," I half laughed, "I think that's most unlikely, don't you? Beauty and the beast is a fairy tale, you know."

At this she laughed through her tears. 

"There's very little of the fairy about you, my boy. Believe me, I think you'll be surprised. You know, you are a powerful man: you own a company. Power is very erotic to women. Why do ugly politicians end up with stunning wives and even more stunning mistresses? It's power, and of course you're also very rich!"

I giggled. "You mean they'll only want me for my money?"

"Allan, once you've bedded them they won't be bothered about your money," she reached forward and tweaked my penis. "Believe me. You're a talented lover but your money and power will get them into your bed!"

I laughed. "We poor men are no match for you scheming women, are we?" and she slapped me gently.

"Go on with you," she scolded. "You can hold your own."

"I might have to after you've gone!"

"Dirty boy!"

And our joined laughter lightened the atmosphere. 

Wednesday morning dawned wet and windy. We breakfasted early, I paid the bill and we were on the road home by ten. I drove. Trish had driven to Wales and indeed had driven the car everywhere while we were there; she loved the automatic car but she had a three hour drive back to Newcastle later in the day and I insisted she rest. So we were able to have some lunch at home before she set off.

"Don't forget, Allan," she smiled, as she settled into her car, "if a pretty young thing hits on you, go for it! It's an order!"

"Same for you. Don't feel guilty if you have another fling with Tim."

Her face clouded briefly before the smile resumed its place. 

"No more flings for me. You'll do until I go, but I'll be hunting once I get down under! If you do find a woman you won't ditch me completely before I go, will you?"

I assured her that she would have first place in my affections and my bed until she went and she looked relieved. I bent and kissed her and she kissed me back hard, pulling my head down to her hungry lips. Then she was gone.

I felt at a loose end after she'd gone, so I got back in the car and went to the gym and had a strenuous workout. My trainer expressed his satisfaction at my fitness and my progress, and I went home feeling relaxed and satisfied.

On the way home I got a curry from my local take-away. While I ate, I watched the evening news, muttering at the poor use of English and the clear editorial bias in some of the reporting, but after it was over, I turned the TV off and put on some music, reaching for a novel I had bought in Conwy. 

Geoff phoned before I could open it, asking if I was going to grace them with my presence on the morrow, about which I reassured him.

"And Friday, as well. You'll be sick of the sight of me, I'll be cramping your style."

After he had rung off with a few friendly insults about absentee landlords, I opened the novel, but couldn't settle to it. I thought of Trish and her new life in NZ. 

She had been my support and my security for a long time, all my recent life. She was the bedrock on which I had built my confidence and pertinacity. She supported me when depressed, laughed about my disabilities when everyone else looked hesitant and pussy-footed around me, and afforded me all the love and sexual release I ever needed. Now she was going and I began to feel apprehensive about surviving on my own. In my head I knew I would manage, but my heart was nearing panic stations. 

Though Trish always bolstered my confidence as a sexual partner and had always been there for me, I had never considered until she told me of her going, that I might be alone without a lover for the rest of my life. Trish had been my partner. I might never have another. She might be confident that women would fall at my feet; I had no such illusions.

So I began to feel depressed that she was leaving me. I felt deserted, almost betrayed, but immediately berated myself. After all, I thought, until last week I never really felt that we were a permanent fixture. At least we both knew where we stood. She'd done me the favour of giving me time to adjust. I felt a surge of love for this woman who was so thoughtful; though it made her departure all the more distressing.

My thoughts turned to work. Geoff wanted me to take care of contracts and indirectly of sales. I thought about that. My face would not improve much more. It was scarred and ugly. No eyebrows, a peculiar nose. At least I had my own lips, and a fine set of false teeth, mainly crowns, but my head was a different matter. 

I had long been embarrassed at my patchy hair, and the bald patches where the scars showed through, until I realised that they would always be visible whether I had the rest of my hair or not. So I had shaved my head and usually wore a hat or a skull cap. 

My knees were tender without being painful, but I could live with that. Thanks to physio and the gym my muscle tone was superb. I had a six-pack, though it was crossed by a scars from an operation early after my admission to hospital to sort out some internal damage caused by the kicking I'd received.

Mentally, my short-term memory was getting much better by leaps and bounds, and the very patchy long-term memory was getting closer to the present except for the lack of images, which I mentioned before. 

My speech was slightly slurred, and my thought processes were slower than I would have liked, but they worked. I was absent minded; I mislaid things; forgot what I was looking for. I'd lose my train of thought and wonder what I'd been talking about. 

These 'qualities' were not conducive to a good sales technique. Where I shone was in drawing up contracts and tightening them up. I was a hard bargainer, I remembered that. I decided I needed to talk to Geoff about this before I made a real mess of a negotiation. His confidence in my abilities was a source of pleasure but needed a dose of realism.

So the next morning I relayed all that to him and then sat back and waited for his response. He looked thoughtful and sat back in his own chair. Eventually he spoke; carefully, I thought.

"Really, what you need is a bloody good personal assistant. Someone who can handle things by themselves, and would therefore be in the best position to, shall we say, remedy your deficiencies. Right?"

It was my turn to think.

"That's roughly it, but a consultant wouldn't warrant a PA would he?"

"No, that's true, but you won't be incognito for much longer, and let's face it, though it may look odd, as managing director I can do what I bloody well want!" 

He laughed his trade-mark short barking laugh (how did I know that?), then became serious. "Of course, your PA will have to know who you are -- and be able to keep it a secret."

"So?" I asked.

He seemed abruptly to change the subject. 

"How's things with Patricia?" 

I gave him the full story, and finished by explaining that we were freeing one another up while keeping our relationship going until she went.

"No chance of getting back with Ann?" he asked.

"I don't see the relevance of all this," I said, rather tersely, "but since you ask, I remind you she's marrying someone else! So no."

He seemed relieved, strangely I thought, since he seemed to be part of the 'get back together with Ann' campaign.

"The relevance is that I know just the person but it's a she. I just didn't want any complications with Patricia or with Ann, that's all."

"Surely it would be a professional relationship? Not good practice, sleeping with colleagues, less so with employees."

"Well, normally I'd agree. In fact that would be my policy, but you are a special case Allan. This woman will have to know you inside out. She'll have to travel everywhere with you: share meals, spend long hours with you, know all your weaknesses -- because of your condition," he added quickly, "a relationship that close..." 

He broke off, his meaning obvious.

"I don't think so, Geoff. I think my unusual good looks will keep our relationship professional."

"Don't be too sure of that," he said dryly.

"So who've you got in mind?"

"Jennifer Tasker. She's a secretary at the moment, but sharp as a button [I wondered at the mixed metaphor, but he was continuing and I had to keep up]. Arrived about a year ago. Late twenties, early thirties, very reliable and can keep a secret I'm sure. In any case, if your identity leaks out she gets fired. She's not too aggressive either, knows when to speak and when to keep quiet, but she doesn't pull her punches when she's arguing, not a 'yes' woman. I think she'd be ideal."

I knew her. In fact I remembered her vividly, because what Geoff hadn't said was that she was gorgeous. She was small-boned, slim with honey blond hair, button nose, wide mouth and big doe-like azure blue eyes. Her figure was understated, but shapely nevertheless, and she had the best pair of long legs I'd ever seen on a woman, and wore shortish skirts to show them off. All in all, the most devastatingly beautiful woman I had come across -- in my memory of course. I wondered if she would be more of a distraction than a help; in fact I knew she would be!

"You'll need to see how committed she'd be," I opined. "Her boyfriend or partner might object to regular trips away from home with another man. I can see him being insanely jealous if another man even looks at her! Also she might not want the additional responsibility. Mind you, with our pay policy she'd be a fool to turn it down!"

"Well I'll get her in then. D'you want to be in on the interview?"

"No, I think I'll lurk in the outer office with Judy and listen in. It'll give me a better idea of whether I want her, and her attitude to me."

"D'you want me to tell her who you are?"

"No, I'll do that if she agrees. We can have a meal somewhere and I'll fill her in then."

"Allan, I should tell you that there are a couple of big deals coming along. You'll need travel abroad. I'll need to point that out to her."

"Fine. Go ahead."

I left the room as Geoff phoned for Jenny; I told Judy of my plan, and disappeared into my own office. Judy would call me when Jenny was installed with Geoff. I got the call and joined Judy round the intercom. The initial pleasantries were over.

"Jenny, I asked to see you because I have been watching you and you've shown great promise."

"Thank you Geoff."

"So I want to offer you something a good deal more demanding than secretarial work. It would be a promotion."

"Yes?"

"It would mean some travelling, staying away from home, both in this country and abroad. How does that strike you?"

"Sounds fine. I like to travel."

"Could you be a Personal Assistant?"

"Oh. But I thought Judy--"

"Oh, not to me. I'm offering you, with the usual increase in salary, the position of personal assistant to Len Jones."

Silence.

Geoff: "You want time to think about it? It's a good opportunity."

"You think so? I don't understand."

"He needs a personal assistant, and he will be travelling quite a bit." (That was news to me!)

"I still don't understand. Can I speak frankly?"

"Of course."

"And you won't hold it against me. Affect my progress?"

"Jenny, you know me better than that."

"Well. For starters, I don't want a part time job. I've noticed he only comes in every now and again, and when he's here he doesn't seem to do much. Also I didn't take this job to be a carer for a disabled man, and boy is he disabled! So the money would be nice, but if I'd wanted to be a nurse, I'd not be here would I? 

"What is it Geoff? When he goes off for on his trips or weekends, am I to be his squeeze? Get the extra money for favours to a man who can't get it anywhere else? Sorry Geoff, I'd prefer to stay as I am. I'm not a whore."

Judy exploded. "How dare she? Stuck up bitch! She needs putting in her place!"

"Go easy Judy. She doesn't know who I am, or the story. Remember you didn't reckon much to me when I first came back, now did you?"

She reddened. "Well, OK. But that she should think that Geoff wanted her as your bedmate! It's disgusting."

"Listen!" I said sharply, We were missing the exchange in the next room.

"...and there's more to him than you know. Do you know how much he's saved the company since he's been 'coming in now and again'? Half a million, that's how much. 

"He's aware that his speech is slow, so he's not good at sales, but he's second to none in tweaking contracts in our favour. He knows a lot about the business, but his memory is poor. He loses his train of thought. 

"So he needs someone to be his memory, to work on the sales side, and to help him with the contracts. So you would be with him on his trips to supply those needs and only those. When he's not here, you would do the follow up work and any other work that needs catching up on, or that I need doing."

Silence.

"So? Do you want extra time. or shall I forget it and find someone else?"

"You're sure there's no other agendum?"

"There's a lot about him that he would tell you in his own time, but I assure you that he's a man of the highest principles. I think when you know him better you'll be impressed."

"Can we have a trial period, see if we can get on together?"

"You would have to ask him that. But there is one thing, he may have to tell you things about himself that must not, and I repeat that, must not be repeated to anyone else. Nothing bad, but he is a private person and doesn't want his private life discussed all over the company. Can you keep his secrets?"

"As long as he's not done anything illegal, yes. I can keep confidences."

"Then I suggest you go along to his office and talk with him, then come back and tell me what you think."

I 'sprang' up and went to my office, and in less than two minutes she was knocking on my door and putting her pretty face round it.

"Mr Jones--" she began.

"Come in Ms Tasker. I believe you want to interview me for the post as your assistant."

"No, Mr Jones, I want to talk about being your assistant."

I let a smile cross my lips, and she reddened, realising that I was joking with her.

"Sorry, Ms Tasker, I really shouldn't. You want to talk. So talk, ask questions. Do you mind me recording our conversation? My memory, you know."

"Please call me Jenny. And no, I don't mind you recording me."

"OK, Jenny, as long as you don't think I'm being too familiar. What you can call me we'll discuss in a few minutes, I'm sure. So, ask away."

"Well, Mr Jones, I can't see I'd have that much to do. You only come here now and again, and, if you'll pardon me, you don't seem to do much while you're here. Geoff says you've saved the company money, but I don't see how."

"So you think I might be after more than a PA, a nurse maid? an 'escort'? That it?"

She reddened again. "Oh dear, this is not going well."

"On the contrary, it's going very well. So you want to know how you'll be used, how much you'll get to do?"

"Yes."

"And you want to know more about me?"

"Well--"

"Look, Jenny, there are too many mysteries here for you to make a decision on such a serious matter. There are more important things than higher salaries, aren't there?"

Again she looked thoughtful. "You seem to be reading my mind, Mr Jones."

"Right. Here's the deal. I'll fill you in on all the details you need, and a few more than you want probably. But, and there's a big but... If anything of what I tell you gets to anyone here, or to any of your friends and I find out, you'll be sacked immediately, that will be part of the contract. You understand?"




The Way Back Ch. 03



She nodded, a shadow of fear crossing her face.

"The thing is that what you are about to hear, you'll want to tell someone. It must not happen!"

"I understand. I can keep secrets."

"Give me your hand."

She looked uncertain but held it out. I took it and shook it. 

"OK. It's a deal," I said, letting go. "You'll be thinking that this is all a bit over dramatic."

"Well--"

"Let's get it all in the open then. You can call me Allan."

"But--" 

"I'm Len Jones. No I'm not; that's for the employees. I'm Allan Jonsson." I let it sink in. It took a while. 

"But... That's... "

"Yes. I'm the founder and owner of the company along with Geoff. Now d'you see why I want to keep it a secret?"

"Yes, of course."

"No you don't. Are you a patient person, Jenny, because I want to tell you the whole story in detail. I don't need any comment, much less any suggestions. If we get on well, I'm sure you'll want to add your ideas and advice to everyone else's! Can you stand a long story?"

She nodded. So I told her the story. It took a long time and by the time I finished she looked sombre, but her comment was unexpected.

"So Patricia is leaving you?"

It was my turn to nod, "As I said, there were no permanent commitments made. She wants her family near her and I want my company and my friends."

"And your ex-wife?"

"No. I thought I explained that," I must have sounded doggedly patient but with an edge, for she looked discomfited. 

She countered with "And your kids?"

"Definitely my kids."

She smiled.

"Now," I said, in my 'back to business' voice, "Do you want to team up with me?"

"Yes. Definitely."

We turned to discuss what her role would be. I pointed out that I did not only want a memory aid, but someone to discuss ideas with, to plan, and to have original ideas of her own. She would do sales' pitches. I told her that Geoff felt she was not a 'yes woman' and for that I was grateful. She was open about her lack of technical knowledge, but that was not going to be a problem.

"Geoff said that we'd be travelling."

"He's not let me completely into the secret yet, but I suspect so. Is there a problem? Someone you need to discuss it with? Boyfriend? Partner?"

"No. I just thought I'd better check my passport. One final question."

"Yes?"

"Why 'Len Jones'?"

"Geoff's idea. He thought that if he were accidentally to call me Allan, it would sound enough like Len to pass for a mistake. Jones is quite like Jonsson too. And there is the Aled Jones link, I still respond to people calling me Jones!"

She laughed. "I will keep all your confidences to myself, Allan. I understand the problems you have with your ex-wife. By the way, where will I work?"

I hadn't thought of that, but my office was large and would accommodate an extra desk and the electronics and peripherals that went with them. She seemed happy enough with that idea, and I certainly relished the idea of sitting opposite such a pretty woman. Those legs were enticing!

So she returned to Geoff with me, and we settled on what turned out to be a doubling of her salary. 

"To keep you quiet!" joked Geoff. I was saying nothing!

"Now Geoff, my PA tells me I'm going abroad travelling for the firm."

"Oh, yes, I was going to tell you about that. Canada in three weeks, Vancouver actually. Then Germany four weeks after that. And there are a few inland trips in between. Can you manage that?"

"Yes boss! Good to be on your sales team sir!"

Jenny briefly looked aghast, but immediately saw we were joking and joined in the smiles.

Geoff smiled at her. "Now since you're going to be spending a lot of time with my partner, can I suggest you allow him to take you out for dinner this weekend, if you've nothing else planned?"

"Isn't it rather up to Allan?" she asked him with a coquettish grin.

"He's far too shy!" said Geoff, looking at me.

"OK!" I answered, "Jenny, would you consider having dinner with me on Saturday evening?"

"Why, thank you sir," she flirted. "I'd be delighted."

The next day, Friday, Jenny moved into my office, There was some talk about it around the place but we ignored it. All would be revealed in time. We set up a computer terminal, printer/fax machine and scanner for her. Then we went through the new orders and discussed the specifications wanted. It was a productive day, and we felt very satisfied with it.

In the afternoon, I took a phone call from Colin, who told me there was a development with the PI in York, and that we ought to go and see the man. I agreed without thinking about Jenny and what she would do in my absence. We were to travel there on Monday and he hoped to return the same day. Jenny assured me that there was so much for her to get her head round, that the day would be well spent without me. The girl was good!

That evening I waited until Trish got home from work and phoned her to tell her of my new 'acquisition'. I wondered if I detected a note of jealousy in her voice, but she was encouraging me verbally to 'go for it', though I told her in no uncertain terms that working relationships get too complicated if they stray beyond the professional. She laughed loudly, which annoyed me. I then remembered how the nurses and medics carried on with each other!

On Saturday night, my taxi picked Jenny up at her flat. I was open-mouthed with wonder as she opened the door and stood before me. Everything about her was demure. Her hair was up, her coat was a classic design, and her shoes' heels were mid-height. She certainly knew how to use make-up; again it was done very gently but all the more effective for that. 

When we reached the restaurant and she shed her coat, there was the little black dress showing a little cleavage and with a hem at mid-thigh, set off with a matching broach, earrings and necklace. I could see the attention from the other diners, particularly the men. It was amusing to see the thoughts crossing their faces: 'How does an ugly bugger like him get a classy woman like her?'

We had a very pleasant relaxed evening together. We clicked as friends as well as colleagues; we laughed a lot, talked about our families, at least she did, though I regaled her with the Swedish connection, and we shared ideas about religion and politics without arguing too strongly. 

We found we liked much the same things. We both liked walking, she liked to jog every morning, where I went to the gym; she loved classical music and the theatre. I liked classical music but had not been to the theatre that I could remember. I resolved to ask friends if I liked the theatre before. Sounded good though. So generally we got on very well. 

She wanted to know how it felt having my injuries and seeing the looks on people's faces, I wanted to know how someone as beautiful as she was, felt about being hit on by men all the time. I found she felt persecuted sometimes, that the men who were the most confident were arrogant and aggressive and assumed she would want sex with them, while the really interesting 'ordinary' men were intimidated and assumed she was not going to be interested in them. I told her how lucky she was to meet someone as ugly and shy as me, and was relieved she laughed without the guilty look I got from most folk when I joked about my appearance. 

I asked her if she wanted to go on anywhere afterwards, but she said she would prefer to go home. So we came to that moment when the taxi arrived at her flat. I thanked her and she thanked me. We smiled at each other. Said goodnight. She got out and I waited in the car until she was safely inside. Yes, I thought, she would do very nicely. 

Sunday always used to be a day of rest, and that's what it was for me. I rose late, and went for a walk. I wandered into a church where the service was just beginning, but there was no welcome, the music was dull and dreary and the priest's sermon made no sense to me at all, so I left. I picked up a Danish from the local supermarket, a paper from the same place and went home to enjoy coffee, read and do the crossword. 

A walk round the local area in the afternoon was followed by preparing and eating my Sunday dinner. I remembered, again as an idea without any images, that as a family we always had a Sunday dinner together, either eating in or out. Strangely, I think it was the smell of the cooking food that brought the recollection, and it brought with it a resolution that I make it up to my children when I at last made contact with Derek, Ann and the family. 

The evening was spent packing for the trip to York. I knew it was supposed to be a day trip, but Colin had suggested that I take an overnight bag in case there were problems. I phoned Trish at eleven.

"How did the evening go?" she asked, with a faintly detectable edge to her voice.

"Very well," I replied, ignoring the underlying questions, "The meal was excellent."

"Come on, Allan, give me the details. All of them."

"Trish it was a very nice evening. We found we have a lot in common. I think we'll be a good working partnership. She's intelligent, resourceful and sensitive. She's not intimidated by my appearance nor does she pussyfoot around my problems. We had a good meal, a good talk and I dropped her off at her place. No kissing. OK? She's a colleague Trish!"

I could almost hear her shrug. 

"OK. Point taken, but I'll feel better when I go if you've got someone else."

"Well, I've been thinking about that as well. I think it'll do me good to be independent for a while. When I do meet someone I want to be self-sufficient, not a dependent cripple."

"Oh, Allan!" she cried. "You're about as self-reliant as anyone I know. It's your guts and determination that's got you as well as you are. I know plenty who were injured a lot less than you, and are still in wheelchairs."

"Still, I feel that some time on my own, after you've gone, not before, will be good for me."

She told me she was on ordinary days from Wednesday, but because of staff shortages, she'd be working overtime and over next weekend. She would be free a week on Friday for a four day weekend. We agreed I would visit her then. 

"So you can get to know your little helper a bit better, you know what I mean!" she giggled and rang off before I could protest.

------ 

TWELVE

"So who was that gorgeous bit of stuff you were out with on Saturday?" Colin asked as we finally hit the M62 after a tortuous rush hour drive through the Manchester suburbs. "You're not wasting any time, are you? A nurse in Newcastle and now this fantastic blonde bird as well. Do the scars and the shaven head attract them?" he laughed.

"Seems like it," I replied smugly, "Actually, she's my PA and it was a 'getting to know you' evening."

"Lucky bastard!" he smirked.

"Anyway, how do you know who I was out with?"

"I have my methods," It was his turn to be smug, and the conversation moved on to the coming day.

The meeting with York police was brief. There was no new information. They had already forwarded everything they knew to Colin. The CCTV recordings were long gone, so the PI was the only hope for more evidence. They had decided not to alert him to our impending arrival, in case there was illegality and he had time to destroy evidence that would be useful to us. What they had done, and I do not know how they swung it, was to get a search warrant for his house. They gave us his address and phone number, and a Detective Constable Harrop was assigned to come with us.

Neil Holt was out, but a helpful neighbour informed us that he would be back the next morning. He was visiting his daughter for the day. We spent the day booking in at the same hotel I'd stayed in, and then retracing my steps as told by Felicia and Lorenz to the station. It did no good. So we went back to the hotel and ate and spent the evening in the bar.

At seven the next rain-soaked morning, we were sitting in Colin's car with our tame DC outside Neil Holt's house. It was a large, nineteen-thirties detached. He had done well for himself. We listened to the radio and the drumming of the rain on the roof, and at ten our Mr Holt arrived with a woman who we assumed rightly was his wife. We let him get inside and gave him another ten minutes before knocking on the door.

"Here we go," said Harrop. "We knock, he answers. We ask about the case, he denies any records of it. I show the warrant and remind him of what a police search does to a house, and that they tend to find illegal things they weren't looking for. He lets us in and gives us some stuff. Want to bet?"

We didn't. Just as well, because it played out exactly as he had predicted.

Like our Keith Cuthberston, Neil Holt was a nondescript man; he was the sort of man people describe as 'average height, average weight, an ordinary coat, no unusual features. His face was round and innocent-looking, but this was belied by his attitude. He would never be noticed or remembered.

He stood back to let us through. The house was well kept, tidy and clean. It was clear that Neil Holt, or his wife, was fastidious. He led us into the kitchen and thence out to an outhouse. We exchanged glances. An outhouse would be damp. Evidence would decay. But the room was dry and carpeted and there was an array of filing cabinets along one wall and a narrow table in the centre. We stood in a line against the other wall. Neil Holt stood by the cabinets.

"We believe you took these photos from CCTV tapes." Colin began, pulling the photos out of his briefcase, and placing them on the table. Holt examined them.

"I paid for the use of the tapes and copied them," Holt protested.

Abruptly he seemed to decide there was no point in prevaricating any longer and took out a folder from one of the cabinets. "This is the Jonsson file," he said, "It's got the tape inside but the correspondence is long gone. I think the original letter from Mrs Jonsson is there."

"It has all the footage I thought I needed," he added almost as an afterthought..

We examined the folder. Sure enough there was a tape, and one letter.

Dear Mr Holt

We wish to engage your services to find information about the activities of my husband Allan Jonsson. 

The letter went on to give my itinerary in detail, giving the hotel and the times and dates. 

He has disappeared from the time he left the hotel, and we are worried about his state of mind. Any information would be greatly appreciated.

The letter finished in the usual way, signed by both Derek and Ann.

"So what did you do?" asked Colin.

"Got in touch and agreed terms, very generous they were too. I think the hotel receptionist said that Mr Jonsson and the woman were, shall we say, very close. Well, you can see that from the pictures."

"You want us to make a copy of this?" asked Colin, ignoring the comment.

"No. Take it."

"What did you put in your report?" asked Harrop.

"Can't remember. I think it was a standard report. You know, husband seen with other woman, incriminating photos, it's usually what people want. I assumed the man who signed the letter was likely to be her lover, and they were looking for evidence against the husband. Saw a lot of that in my job."

So we left. The rain had mercifully stopped and a watery sun was attempting to make its presence felt. We returned to the police station and watched the video. It was typical CCTV footage, a frame taken every five to fifteen seconds or so. I saw Felicia and myself at reception then leaving the hotel with baggage, then a different camera shot of us in the lounge hugging and kissing, then drinking coffee together. The third camera was at the Station, where I was with her alone at the booking office, then with Felicia and Lorenz, then the three of us going onto the platforms. The final frame showed me leaving the station with a man. All in all they showed very little more than the photos Holt had sent to Ann and Derek, except for the last frames. Why hadn't he sent those as well?

"Probably thought it wasn't wanted," said Harrop. "If he thought they wanted evidence of your adultery that picture wouldn't have helped. We'll go back and find out and let you know."

We thanked the folk at the police station, returned to the hotel, collected our baggage and were soon on our way home. Colin took the evidence with him, and suggested 'the four' should meet to examine it on Friday. I suggested my flat, and he promised to set it up with the others if I provided the beer.

Wednesday was to be full of sunshine. The night had been clear and the morning was frosty, but the sun shone strongly for a late winter's day. It lifted my spirits. 

When I arrived at my office, I stopped at the door, wondering if I'd come to the wrong room. It was somehow homely. There was a vase of fresh flowers, and abstract paintings on the walls. The paintings were relaxing but I couldn't place the artist. 

Jenny regarded me, a huge smile on her pretty face which lit up the room. There was a sofa and an armchair in leather to one side and our two desks at the other at a decorative angle. The filing cabinets were unobtrusive against the far wall, and the sun was shining through the windows. She looked very self-satisfied She searched my face for a reaction and I had to smile.

"Your work?" I asked needlessly. She nodded. "It's beautiful Jenny," I enthused. "So comfortable and peaceful. Thank you. I could never have thought of this. Whose are the paintings?"

"Mine."

"I mean who painted them?"

"I did."

I was staggered. She was so talented; what was she doing as a secretary in a medium sized company? I resolved to ask her at a suitable moment. There was more to this complex person than met the eye.

"What talent!" I exclaimed, and she beamed with pleasure.

"I think that if your surroundings are peaceful and beautiful," she said quietly, "it makes work easier. There's enough stress in our lives. I hoped this might be healing."

"I can see you are a treasure. I wonder what other talents you are hiding ready to be unleashed. I know I'm going to enjoy working with you. You've brought sunshine into my life!"

"Well, how did your trip go?"

I gave her a run down of the visit, and the evidence we had seen in its original form. 

"Good," she said, that smile lighting her face again. "You're making progress."

The office was not just decorated. She had sorted out a filing system and I found the office tidy and everything filed perfectly. We got down to business and discussed the up-coming meetings with customers and suppliers and it was clear that she had done her homework on it all. 

I called in on Geoff at lunchtime and filled him in on my trip.

"What do you think of your office?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. 

I spread my arms and hands, "I'm speechless!"

"And I'm jealous! If I didn't have Judy, I'd be scheming to take her from you."

"Don't even think about it! She's mine!"

"I think she could be. She's your type."

"Professional, Geoff, professional. Let's keep it that way."

David phoned me at work to tell me the meeting at my place for the 'four' was set up, and also that he had submitted my finances to the court.

The rest of the week was full of hard work, intellectually at work, and physically out of it. I punished myself at the gym on Wednesday afternoon, and was punished in my turn by my physiotherapist, who once again complimented me on my progress. Friday afternoon, I noticed Jenny was a little preoccupied,

"What's up, Jenny?" I asked out of the blue. She looked disconcerted, but recovered quickly.

"Are you seeing Patricia this weekend?"

"No, probably next week -- she's working the whole weekend."

"Well, if you've not got anything on on Sunday night, I'm going to a concert and I've an extra ticket. Would you like to come?"

"What sort of concert?"

"Hallé Orchestra at the Bridgewater Hall. It's an 'Opus One ' concert, so it'll be well-known pieces."




The Way Back Ch. 03



"Well..." I hesitated. Was she asking me out on a date? She read my mind.

"You were nice enough to take me out to dinner, and you said you thought you would enjoy concerts, so I thought I'd like to repay you. No hidden agenda!"

I had no choice! "Thanks Jenny, I'd love to come."

"Good, I'll pick you up at six forty."

"Do you--"

"Yes, I know where you live," she laughed, and so it was agreed.

By eight that evening there were three of my friends round my table with a selection of bottled beer from all sorts of breweries. Drinking was under way.

Colin and I had told the group that there didn't seem to be anything new to be learned from the film, apart from the final frames which only established I did not go off with Felicia.

"Show us anyway," said Keith. 

"I put it on DVD." said Colin. 

I put it in the player and started it. We watched in silence as it played out. 

The three agreed that the final frames would have altered the perception of the events, and that the PI had withheld them, either of his own accord or because he was told to.

When it finished, Keith said, "Go back to the station." I did, it played through again. 

"Stop there!" cried Keith. The frame froze. We looked at it. There were Felicia and I booking a ticket, and a few other travellers standing around. "See that bloke bottom left? I'm sure I've seen him around here; I've a good memory for faces, it helps in my job. I just can't place him."

"Wait a minute," interjected David. "He's the same man you're leaving the station with, Allan. Go back to the hotel foyer, that bit where you're both leaving."

I obeyed.

"There!" said David, "that's the same man isn't it, Keith?" 

Keith agreed. "Yes, that's him. Now that's a coincidence I'd like to follow up. it looks to me as if he was watching you to intercept you at the station. It may be nothing; there were plenty of people from round here at York races that week. He could just have been staying at the same hotel. it could be a coincidence but I doubt it. Leave it with me. I'm sure it will come to me in time."

David waited until the other two had gone home before bringing me up to date with the divorce.

"I submitted the affidavit of means at the end of last week, but didn't get anything from Ann's man, I'm still waiting. Even though it goes to the court, I should have a copy. 

"I did get another suggested settlement, but it involved Ann getting half the company as well as half your whole assets. Then there was maintenance for the children to be doubled! I suggested in reply that when I received her affidavit, I could start to negotiate, but her offer was totally unacceptable. 

"God! the house sale is worth a few hundred K. I can't understand why she's being so aggressive. I know she's hurt by your apparent rejection of her in favour of this mythical woman, but this is vindictive. She's got a man and they're getting married for pity's sake! Anyway, I think it's definitely got to go to court. I'll make a generous offer, which she'll reject, and then we'll see."

It was depressing after a good week to hear all that. After David went I tidied up and went to an early bed at ten. I was awoken at eleven thirty by the phone, which annoyed me, and my abrupt manner resulted in an apology from Trish.

"I thought you were seeing 'the three', I thought you'd still be with them."

"I had an early night."

"Sorry." There was a pause. "Ok then, I'll phone you tomorrow sometime," and she rang off.

I felt guilty immediately and phoned her back.

"Sorry Trish, David finished the evening with an update on my divorce. Very depressing. So I took to my bed."

"The rest of the week?"

"Very good," I replied becoming more conscious, "The trip to York didn't reveal much, but Jenny is a real find. My office looks like a palace; paintings, her paintings! Flowers, easy chairs, coffee table. Feels like home!"

"Where's she taking you this weekend?" The question came as a complete surprise.

"How did you--"

"Allan," she said with exaggerated patience, "she fancies you. I keep telling you, you're a very attractive man even with your scars."

"She's just repaying my taking her out to dinner." 

The laughter at the other end nearly deafened me.

"Allan darling, you're so naïve! She'll be subtle and professional, but I bet she fancies you!"

"You don't mind?"

"Why should I? I won't be here soon."

"Still, I want to keep our relationship professional. I mean it Trish."

"You might!" she laughed.

She told me about her week: work, work, work. I sympathised and after agreeing that I would go to Newcastle the following weekend, we disconnected.

I wondered about Jenny. I wasn't sure where I stood with her. I shrugged my shoulders and resolved to play things by ear. There was that nagging feeling that taking our relationship beyond professional would be a bad idea, but very pleasant! I laughed at myself and tried to sleep, succeeding an hour later after reading my novel.

I had nothing with which to occupy myself over the weekend except to fume over the avarice of my ex-wife, so I found things to do. I cleaned the flat from end to end and I went out and bought a rowing machine. I really wanted to go jogging but my knees wouldn't allow it. I spent many hours putting it together and another hour rowing. Exhausted, I had a bath and spent the evening sprawled on my sofa watching rubbish on TV. Sunday I slept in, went out for croissants and a paper and lazed the morning and early afternoon away. 

I was therefore ready for Jenny long before she arrived. When I opened the door, I saw she was wearing a black figure hugging sweater and a pair of jeans, and as she burst out laughing and suggested I change out of my dinner suit and bow tie into something less formal.

"It's an Opus One concert," she laughed, "The only ones wearing ties will be over seventy or members of the orchestra!"

Suitably chastened I showed her to the living room and changed. The concert was very good, the ice cream at the interval expensive but mind-blowingly delicious, and the drinks exorbitant. She dropped me off at the flat and drove off, my thanks ringing in her ears. Our professionalism was undiminished, though I was kicking myself for not inviting her in.

The week that followed was hectic. Jenny and I took the train to Birmingham to negotiate with one of our suppliers. The day was productive in the end after prolonged discussions as to whether they could make a couple of pilot boxes to house one of our products before going into full production. I think it was Jenny's diplomacy and winning cajoling that got their agreement, along with the combination of a very sharp tailored suit and suitably décolleté blouse which had the men (all their team were men) drooling, especially when she leant forward over the plans!

It was on Wednesday that week that we had our weekly meeting of 'the four'. As we left the pub, David invited me out for a meal the next day, Thursday. It was to be a deeply disturbing evening.

I went to the gym twice and physio on Thursday.

------ 

THIRTEEN

I was ready for David half an hour before he arrived. He had made his veiled comments about being ready for another memory step and that we were going to eat out. I was surprised that Vivienne was not invited; or rather that she and David had decided he should take me by himself. I learned later that she didn't trust herself not to say something untoward.

He drove us to a little restaurant in a suburb of Altrincham, which he assured me would be a revelation. We were welcomed by the manager who obviously knew him well. The manager took a second look at me but I was used to that. There were, I suppose, ten tables and half of them were already occupied by couples and groups. We were shown to a table in a corner which provided a view of the whole room, which David said was necessary.

We had begun the starter course when David stiffened and said, "The door. Look!"

Coming in through the door was a man of about fifty, slightly overweight but otherwise fit, handsome and obviously well groomed, and with him a very attractive woman about forty years old, I supposed. They were laughing together and she was hanging on his arm. They were shown to their table which was three tables away from ours.

As the couple made their way to their table David said, "There's your man. That's Derek Fanshaw."

"And that's Ann?" I asked, staring at her, trying to provoke some memory. It was no use. She was very attractive indeed in a mature way, with a very pretty face and a superb figure, but I could not make any connection.

They were seated and I continued to stare, willing some memory to arise.

"Any luck?" asked David.

"No," I replied. "She's a nice looker though. So she's my ex-wife!"

Now my efforts to retrieve some memory were misinterpreted by Derek Fanshaw, and he muttered something to Ann and stood. 

She looked over at us and I saw that fleeting look of revulsion followed by pity. She tried to restrain Fanshaw, looking over to our table and seeing David. 

I heard her say, "It's David and another man, leave it Derek."

But he was not going to leave it. This was a jealous man. He arrived at our table and ignoring David began aggressively to attack me.

"I'll thank you not to stare at my w... fiancée."

I kept my voice low as if I had laryngitis. 

"Then you've no need to thank me since I'll continue to stare as long as I feel like it. Can I suggest you go and sit at your own table?"

"Why you..." he clenched his fists by his side and David intervened.

"Derek, you're making a fool of yourself. Violence could be an expensive mistake," and he stared down the angry man.

At this, Ann appeared at Derek's side, the side next to me, and took his arm. 

"Come on darling," she said quietly. "Leave these gentlemen to get on with their meal." 

She smiled at me and I caught a whiff of her perfume. It is true that smells evoke memories, often better than sounds or ideas!

The perfume did it. It was as if a light had gone on inside my head, and my heart. Memories came flooding back, tumbling over one another. I closed my eyes and gripped the table. It was the combination of voice and perfume, the one I always bought her, her favourite. 

I had visions, yes visions, of the two of us arm in arm walking through some garden, of her coming out of a bathroom, and of her face on a pillow in the early morning, and more, and still more. Playing with the children in the garden at Cherry Tree Lane, cuddling me on a sofa, her head in my shoulder. It was a waterfall of memories and I knew now why so many people desperately wanted to get us together again. I didn't have any visual memories? I did then!

"Allan!" 

My reverie was interrupted by David's sotto voce exclamation. 

"Allan! Are you all right?"

I opened my eyes. The other couple had gone back to their table and there was an argument between them. 

"No, I'm not all right. We need to go, David. I can't stay with her in here." 

I struggled up and limped out of the place, waiting for David on the pavement outside. I felt faint and bent double to send some blood to my head. Then David was by me and I felt his arms on my shoulder.

"You OK?"

"Do I look OK?" I asked him petulantly and regretted it immediately. "Sorry, let's get to the car and let me sit down." 

Which we did. Once in the car, David sat patiently waiting as my head cleared.

"That was a shock," I said at length.

"But you said you didn't remember her."

"It was her perfume and her voice, David," I shuddered. "You've no idea what it was like. Suddenly there were so many memories I couldn't cope. It was like a bomb going off."

"Well, you shocked the hell out of Ann," he laughed. "She was most worried about you, thinking it was Derek who brought it on. He's not the flavour of the month at the moment. She was still berating him about his jealousy when I left."

"You didn't--"

"Of course not, Allan. Credit me with some intelligence, would you?"

"Sorry."

"I told her you had been badly injured and these attacks sometimes came on, but she insisted that Derek had been the one to ruin our evening. I think they were about to leave themselves: she was blazing."

I had another memory. Ann in full flow having a row with me. I smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"I just remembered Ann rowing with me! Derek should be very afraid!" 

We both laughed and he drove me home.

Once in the house I sank into an armchair and closed my eyes. I had mental indigestion. As I said, for the first time the memories were visual. A large piece of the jigsaw had fallen into place, and I became very angry indeed. I knew now that not only had my own life been damaged beyond repair, but my love life had been destroyed into the bargain. 

I knew then that I had loved that woman, and that I had loved her for many years. We had brought our children up together as a team. I knew clearly that we fitted together perfectly before I was viciously deprived of it all. 

However she, the love of my life, had not bothered beyond a cursory investigation by a dodgy PI, to search for me. Now I knew, if it had been the other way round, I would still have been searching for her. I felt utterly betrayed.

She was so happy, so carefree, with Derek Fanshaw, hanging on his arm, smiling at him. He was hers and she was his. I was forgotten, or hated for something I didn't do. I suffered, and she? Well, she came out of it laughing. I had a blighted life and she had a new start with a handsome new man.

It went round and round in my head, I fumed and fretted, and when I struggled to my feet and went to bed the thoughts continued. It was not logical; it was not considered. I was tired but I was not sleeping. Eventually sleep took me, and the next morning I felt terrible.

That is an understatement. I was a zombie. How I drove to work I don't know, but as soon as I hit the office my beautiful assistant told me to go home. No, she ordered me to go home. No, she drove me home in my car.

"Go back to bed," she ordered. 

She was in charge today; I liked it. She was right, I had told her I was driving to Newcastle for the weekend and she was looking after me. I went back to bed and slept for three hours. Then I drove to Newcastle. It was the first time I had driven so far. 

Trish knew there was a problem as soon as I got out of the car. Her compassion was all over her face.



The Way Back Ch. 04



FOURTEEN

"It's not that she didn't find me, it's the fact that she didn't really look! And why? Because she had someone else lined up to take my place. That Derek was installed before the trail was cold! Everything's gone swimmingly for her hasn't it? One man disappears another takes his place in her bed and in her life. You should have seen them, they're definitely a married couple already, I could have sworn that when he came over to our table, he nearly said 'wife' instead of 'fiancée'."

I was fulminating yet again and Trish was taking it all patiently. She had taken me to her bed as soon as I arrived and made gentle love to me for hours before even asking the question. In fact it wasn't a question but a statement.

"You've seen Ann, and you've remembered."

So I had to tell her the whole story. I recounted how my memories had cascaded into my mind overwhelmingly. Now, having exhausted my diatribe, she had time to speak herself. She didn't try to change my mind; she didn't offer any solutions. I knew I would have done in her place and that's what I was waiting for.

"Allan, you've had a terrible shock. You're suffering from overload, and you're bereaved in the worst possible way."

My love for her surged. She understood me, she knew what I was going through. We'd risen from her marathon love in, and we'd eaten a lovely meal she'd prepared for me and I hardly tasted it. As soon as we began to eat I'd launched into the whole thing again, and from her there was no reproach, no sign of disappointment.

"Time for bed," was all she said next. "Tomorrow we have all day. You have a lot of healing to do."

It was early to retire, but retire we did and as she folded me in her arms I fell at once into a deep and dreamless sleep, at least I had no recollection of any dreams. 

The next morning as I came to consciousness, the bed was empty and the sun was shining. It was late, very late, almost not morning at all. I stumbled to the lavatory to relieve my aching bladder, and when I returned after splashing my face with cold water, Trish was sitting in bed displaying her wonderfully neat breasts, and sipping a mug of tea. Mine was on my side and I did likewise, including displaying my breasts, which did not measure up to hers at all. 

When the mugs were empty we hunkered down into the bed, and she idly began to trace patterns over my body, my face and my head. The feeling was almost soporific and there was no world anywhere else but there in her arms. She was my universe at that moment, and everything else simply faded away. 

When I was totally relaxed, her hand glided over my quiescent penis, her fingers featherlike on the very tip. It grew, and her head went down and she bestowed kiss after kiss on my now erect member, up and down the sides and gossamer touches of her lips on the tip and the rest of the glans. Nothing mattered in the world at all, but the exquisite feeling of her loving lips.

It was strange that at that moment I realised that I had not thought about Ann that morning, nor about the first meeting with her, until then, and the thought aroused no angry or depressive feelings at all. It was as if those events were in another world. That world did not matter; only this world mattered, where this loving woman was healing me gently with her mouth.

My eyes were closed, and then it was no longer her mouth, but something much warmer, and it enveloped my penis entirely with a soft embrace. I opened my eyes and she was straddled over me, keeping her weight off but slowly riding me up and down so gently that it did not excite unduly, but gave an intense sensation of her vaginal walls. Her eyes were closed and she seemed lost in her own world. 

This went on for a long time until I began to want release and moved my hips up to meet her sinking down. Immediately her eyes opened and she smiled, rolling off me and pulling me over her. She held my cock and directed it to her pussy and I slipped back into her slick and welcoming channel. Then we moved together with more purpose, my strokes were deepening and her upward thrusts more active and soon we were moving fast and hard. 

I saw the flush spread over her chest and she began to pant, until suddenly she held her breath. She became still, rigid, and her hands clenched the bed. Then came the release; she bucked and groaned and shook and cried out in a wordless affirmation of the intensity racking her lithe body, then she twitched a whole body twitch again and again, each time accompanied by a guttural sound which seemed to come from her very core. I rode her as her body shook seeming as if it wanted to shake me off. As her movements gentled, I came myself, deeply and thoroughly, feeling the life-force gush all along my cock before it burst in spurts into her. 

"Yes," she gasped, just once, and I collapsed onto her.

We lay supine and spent as the sun's light became hazy. Then she pushed me off her and we lay wrapped round each other's bodies. Did we sleep awhile? I think so, because I became aware of her leaving the bed and disappearing into the bathroom, and following that, the uniquely musical tinkle of a woman passing water. She came back to the bed, leant over me, her breasts hanging deliciously, and kissed me long and gently. I kissed back and fondled her paps, running my fingers over her nips and making her exhale with pleasure.

"Come on, my lover," she murmured, "Let's get out of here or the day will be gone."

She took me to the coast again, driving my car which she loved, and we walked along the sand muffled against the cold as we'd done before. A sea fret had rolled in and its cold damp fingers, coupled with the lack of visibility, made the sound of the waves eerie, invisible as they were. The brisk exercise was like an exorcism, purging with the biting cold of the North East coast all my pent up feelings, and complementing the gentle loving exercise of the morning. 

I said nothing and indeed I didn't think much either. I wanted to stay in this other misty world, with this wonderful loving woman who as always had taken such comprehensive care of me and seemed to know exactly what my body and spirit needed. 

She spoke little either, save to avert to the foghorn from the Whitley Bay Lighthouse, and the other sounds drifting from Tynemouth harbour and the river mouth. We ate an evening meal at a pub and then she drove me home.

The evening was spent listening to music and playing scrabble, a game she loved to distraction, and which she usually won comprehensively. We fell into bed with that clean exhaustion that comes from good exercise in the cold and a warm evening's mental exercise. 

As I drifted off, her arm across my hip and mine under her neck, her head on my shoulder, I fleetingly wondered why she'd said nothing about my trauma. It did not worry or concern me and I think I must have gone to sleep smiling.

We both awoke relatively early on Sunday morning, and after a visit each to the loo, made love in a business-like manner, totally the opposite from Saturday's marathon. We both wished to give the other a satisfying orgasm, playing each other's body with considerable success, and flopped back onto our backs shining with perspiration and panting with our exertion. We each turned our heads to the other.

"Good." I said

"Yes." She said.

Then we got up and after a breakfast of cereal and toast were on the road to the Cheviots for a long bracing walk, lunch at a pub near the Roman Wall, and a relaxing drive back. 

In the early evening she took me to meet her colleagues at the hospital watering hole, most of whom I had not seen for a while. It was the usual mix of gossip, anecdotes and ribald humour. Everyone was relaxed and that helped me. I felt a warm glow, fuelled no doubt by the pints which were going down with reckless rapidity, but also by the lack of any of that emotional intensity which characterised life back in Sale.

I say everyone was relaxed. There was one who looked anything but. When I went to return some of what I had gained from the bar in the gentleman's washroom, the worried one followed me. He was a muscular young man with a handsome face and a shock of red hair. We stood at the stalls side by side.

"Allan," he said, looking straight ahead.

"Yes?" I answered in like manner.

"I'm Tim."

"Oh. Pleased to meet you. "

"That it?"

"Yes. I'd shake you hand, but I've got my hands full at the moment," I gave a short laugh at my own joke.

"But--"

"Look Tim," I said gently, "what you and Trish did together caused her to feel guilty as hell. I told her at the time that she was not under any obligation of faithfulness to me, but she then said she wanted to be faithful while our relationship lasts. That's fine with me as well. I've no real claim on her; she's done more for me than anyone, so I'm grateful for whatever she gives me. It seems she wants to stay monogamous until she goes to New Zealand. So don't worry."

"Oh, that's a relief!" he sighed. "I was worried you'd be miffed by our fling."

"As I said, don't worry about it." 

He was a nice enough bloke. I almost advised him to improve his sexual technique but resisted the impulse.

We returned to the group.Trish gave an enquiring look; I smiled and she looked relieved.

When we got back to her flat she got out the whisky and we sat, not together on the sofa, she sitting in the armchair.

"OK, Allan. How do you feel?"

I thought about it. 

"I feel good. I needed to relax, things were pretty tense at work as I settled in and got to know Jenny better as well. Then there's the ongoing search for the bastards who did this to me; 'the three' are working so hard on that, and I feel a little stressed that they're spending so much time on me. 

"Then David pulled this stunt with Ann at the restaurant. I think that it has all been too much. You've given me a great weekend, but you've said nothing about this Ann business. As usual you've done exactly the right thing. I feel much better."

"And the Ann business?"

I thought again, "I'm not livid with anger any more; there are other emotions but I've not been bothered to sort them out."

"You're going back tomorrow. I want to say some things about the Ann business. That OK with you?"

"Of course," I sighed. "You've more right than most to give advice."

"I'm not sure I want to give you advice. I want to state some things I've been mulling over, not just this weekend either."

"Ok, fire away."

"I think you already know everything I'm going to say. 

"Before you met Ann you had a detached attitude. Now it's different. You know exactly what's been taken away from you so it becomes personal. Most of what we've talked about is full of questions. Why didn't Ann look for you for longer? Why did she shack up so quickly with this Derek man? Does she still miss you? How will she react to your new face and body?"

"I know that one. She pities me and finds it revolting. I saw the look on her face."

"Another question then; if she knew it was you would that change her attitude? Personally, speaking as a woman I think it would make all the difference in the world."

Trish wasn't the first to say that. 

"Well, she'll be married soon," I replied, "and she's obviously happy in her new life. She'll have to live with it; I've had to. She's being vindictive about the financial settlement; that's a side of her I don't remember."

"That's because she thinks you've dumped her for another woman. She thinks you cheated on her. If she's still angry I think it shows she still has very strong feelings for you. 

"Another thing. Think of all those years she gave you, don't you think those years and all that love deserves that she knows the truth, and that before the wedding? Is it fair she's marrying with a dreadful misconception? Whether you finally part and she marries him or she calls off the wedding, she should do it with full knowledge of the facts."

Once again Trish was talking eminent sense into me. I'd been wrapped up in my own anger and resentment. Ann may not ever get my love again but she deserved justice and the full facts. I became aware of Trish's anxious face waiting for my response.

"Trish, as usual, you're right. How d'you manage to be right all the time? I need to meet her and tell her the whole thing. I've not worked out what I feel about her yet. My mind's a jumble, though thanks to you and what you've done this weekend, I feel at ease with it. There's time. I'll see her when I get back from Vancouver."

There was an imperceptible pause, before she asked with a nonchalant air, "Jenny going with you?"

So she did care! 

"Yes."

Another pause, longer this time. 

"Look Allan," she spoke quietly, "I know all about the professional relationship thing but if she comes on to you, go with the flow. You're practically divorced and I'm leaving soon. She sounds a sweet girl."

"You won't mind?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course I'll mind!" she scolded. "That's not the point. She's going to be here and I'm not; I've got to let you go. I've always been ready for you to go back to Ann, and if that's not going to happen I'd prefer you to have someone else."

"I still think affairs between colleagues are a bad idea. When or if they finish how do you continue to work together? She's my PA, Trish. Any move away from me would be demotion, or she would have to leave. I can't leave; I own the bloody place!"

"Yes, I see that. All I'm saying is, if she's willing to risk all that, go with it. And you can talk about it beforehand you know, I did with you; I told you it was no strings sex."

"But it wasn't. It isn't, is it?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "OK, it was when we started out, but yes, you win! I wouldn't have it any other way, even though it hurts leaving you."

We went to bed and made missionary love and then fell asleep in each other's arms as we usually did. We both got up at the same time, 5.30am, so she could get to work. I stayed longer and had a cup of coffee before getting into the car and driving back to the mix up at home.

I drove straight into work. When I got to my office there was no one there, but Judy put her head round the door and told me Jenny was with Geoff, so I wandered down to Geoff's office, which used to be mine. I entered without knocking and found the two of them hunched over a number of pieces of A3 paper.

"Better late than never," said Geoff, with a smile. 

Jenny smiled too, but it was more a welcome than an appreciation of his humour. 

He continued, "These are the specs for the component we are hoping Glencoe Industries will want. You know you go on Wednesday?"

"Yes, let me see," and I joined them.

Geoff began to speak, but I stopped him. 

"Let Jenny explain it to me." 

She flushed and looked uncertain.

"Go on," said Geoff. "Tell him. Sell it to him."

She did. She had mastered the technical details and knew the limits of the component parts and how the unit would fit into the larger machines they were wanting to make. She was hesitant at first, but as she went on she became more confident and by the time she reached the price she was motoring, but the price was way too high.

"Too expensive. I couldn't pay that much for it. Can you produce it more cheaply?" I said.

"That's the cost to you for one," she said. "It's patented and you can see it's technically advanced, and though we'd get a small fee for each one you had made elsewhere we need to protect our own profits."

We entered into a haggling round in which she brought in discounts on a sliding scale for quantity and ended with a handsome profit for us and a good deal for them.

"I'm impressed," I said brightly. "OK, Jenny. You handle the sales pitch and the initial agreement and I'll tweak the contract at the end."

"Are you sure?" she asked, suddenly looking uncertain, but Geoff beamed.

"Positive," I asserted. "You know all there is to know about it. You pitched it perfectly to me, and of course there'll be a commission if you make the sale. Can you put a PowerPoint presentation together for the meeting?"

Of course she could. What a silly question! All that was in the tone of voice used for a simple 'Yes'.

She went off to do the job armed with the papers, but Geoff stopped me following.

"Allan," he smiled, "you haven't lost your touch. Always giving people chance to grow. She'll do you proud."

"I think so, she's very talented."

"By the way, Victor Belling, the president of the company and its original owner before it went public, knows you. You got on very well about six months before you were attacked. He came here looking for us to develop this piece. You two had a great time. He was very taken with Ann. He'll get quite a shock when he sees you."

"Geoff, I've a feeling I've been to Vancouver before. Is that right?"

"No. As far as I know, you've never been there." 

Ah well, you win some and you lose some!

I had physio that evening; oh the virtue of going private! You can go when you want. The next morning Jenny and I went through her presentation and collected a prototype. For something that was at the core of controlling a large manufacturing process and assessing quality, it was very small! 

We checked our tickets and I found she had organised everything for the trip, including a very swish hotel on the Waterfront in Vancouver. We left work at lunchtime to pack; Geoff's blessing in our ears. 

I was packing when David phoned. 

"Sorry to tell you this old friend, but I got the Decree Absolute this morning. You're no longer married."

I felt nothing. "OK, thanks David," I said at length.

"You ok?"

"Yes, David, I'm fine. I knew it was coming. It doesn't mean a lot to me. She's decided on a new life long since. I'm settling in nicely at work. I've got Trish and a superb PA who's coming to Canada with me. Ann and I have separate lives now, though I'll have to see her about access to the kids." 

My feelings were growing and were different, but I suppressed them.

"As soon as you get back?" he asked.

"Yes."

------ 

FIFTEEN

It was a long journey, even if you discounted the three-hour check in. We left at about two o'clock and arrived at about four after travelling for over nine hours non-stop. We got a taxi to the Waterfront Hotel and checked in. 

Here I was in for a surprise. We were booked into a suite on some impossibly high floor, and when we reached the suite it had only one bedroom, with two queen-size beds.

Jenny looked embarrassed. "I hope you don't mind. There are two beds, and this was the only suite they had available."

I smiled. The thought of seeing this beauty in her night attire and possibly her underwear was not doing me any harm at all! 

"No, Jenny, that'll be fine, as long as you're comfortable with the idea."

"Oh, yes," she answered, visibly relieved. "Boys and girls always shared when I was at University and we went away. We never thought it was strange."

I wondered how many of these innocent room sharings ended in hot sex in only one of the beds. Well, that wouldn't happen here, I thought. This is too good a relationship to mess up by getting personal.

We were tired. It may have been five pm there but our clocks told us it was after one in the morning. I suggested we nap for a couple of hours and then have dinner. I booked dinner for seven thirty and got a wake-up call as well. Then I lay down, fully dressed. Jenny did the same on the other bed. We hardly looked at the view from the large picture window.

Coming to when the wakeup call came was excruciating. It was like being woken suddenly in the middle of the night. We both struggled to our feet and used the bathroom consecutively. I looked out over the water looking at the lights reflected in the water. I could see why people fall in love with Vancouver.




The Way Back Ch. 04



The food was wonderful. It needed to be, since our body clocks were screaming we should be asleep at four in the morning, and certainly not having a dinner! The bar served beer from local micro-breweries and the bartender offered samples before pulling full measures. We eventually went to our beds feeling better. Jenny had a theory that travelling east to west was less a shock to the system, and as I felt better I began to believe I could agree with her.

Jenny changed in the bathroom, and while she was gone I found a pair of boxers, and put them on, then my dressing gown. I had expected to be alone and I always sleep nude. She emerged after about twenty minutes in a pair of white silk pyjamas. They were quite baggy but she looked stunning, hinting at a great deal, up top and down below!

"Don't look too closely," she said, "I'm not a pretty sight without makeup."

It was a blatant lie and I told her so, and she blushed prettily. I made my way to the bathroom,and when I returned she was asleep. I shed my gown and dropped into my bed and was asleep in my turn. It was only nine o'clock.

I awoke at five, wondering where I was, and immediately knowing. Through the open door into the living area of the suite I could see a light, and wandered in to find Jenny sitting at the writing desk with her computer, going over her presentation. She heard me and turned. Her hand flew to her mouth and there was the familiar expression on her face of disbelief. I realised that apart from my boxer shorts, I was naked. She was in her pyjamas.

"Sorry," I began, "I heard a noise--"

"Allan! Your body! Your legs!"

I realised why she was so appalled. I was used to Trish seeing me naked, and Jenny was the first to see me since Vivienne in the flat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said flatly. "I forget what I look like. Sorry if you're shocked."

"No!" she said, full of compassion. "I'm used to your face and head, I didn't realise your injuries--"

"Were so extensive?" I said, smiling. "You can see why the medics didn't give me much of a chance of surviving! What are you doing Jenny?"

"I woke up and wanted to be sure of things for today."

"You'll be fine! Just be yourself and follow your PowerPoint."

"I've nearly finished. I'll feel better in my own mind if I go over it now."

I went to the coffee making apparatus and made us a drink, then went back to bed to read my trashy novel. I must have dozed off because she woke me, calling my name. She was dressed and ready for the day. It was seven. I rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, feeling her eyes on my battered body. I felt my friend below beginning to stir. 

"Down boy," I whispered. 

All was quiet in that department by the time I emerged and she had made herself scarce in the living room to allow me to dress. 

After breakfast Jenny showed me to the conference room she had booked for the two days.

"They wanted us to go to the company offices, but I thought neutral ground was better," she said.

"Clever! But not really neutral, we live here at the moment!"

She blushed and smiled: she knew what she was doing. We returned to the suite and she immediately left with the documentation and her laptop. She was nervous, jittery even. There was nothing I could do; she wanted the chance to shine and I was going to give it to her in spades.

The phone call came that the party had arrived and I went down to meet them. There were three of them. A grey-haired man, tall and lean of features and body with a prominent nose, who introduced himself as Victor Belling. I decided to wait before I told him who I was; it would only distract us. 

"Allan Jones. Contracts," I said, shaking Victor's hand. 

He gave a second look, but was already introducing his resourcing team. Denis Lemay was his chief resource manager. He was tall, taller than me by a few inches, slim with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He was very good looking and I thought I detected a touch of arrogance about his attitude, perhaps a sneer lurked behind his overt politeness. Grant Concliffe, his colleague, was introduced as the technical expert; a short man somewhat older than Lemay, and tending to corpulence. He was certainly out of condition. His florid face was thin, with a button nose and narrow eyes and protruding chin, and his ears were huge. It took an effort of will not to stare at them. Mind you, he stared long enough at me.

Belling was the one to comment. He nodded at me and said the one word, "Accident?"

"No. Mugging." 

He grunted and shrugged. We took the lift to the conference room with no further conversation. When we entered the room, Jenny was waiting for us with a broad smile. I could see the double take: a woman?

I made the introductions, telling them she was to organise the negotiations and that I would be dealing with the fine print. She was dressed as she had at the Birmingham meeting, business-like but distractingly pretty, with the same suit, tantalising blouse and mid-thigh length skirt. I could see all three were enthralled. They almost had to shake themselves to get in the frame of mind needed for the meeting.

I suggested to Victor that we stay for the presentation and then absent ourselves once the discussion began. I had told Jenny to wear the radio mike for my gizmo. I wanted her to know I was in earshot in case of problems. I didn't want her to have to come and find me.

Her performance was perfect and Victor and I then withdrew to the next room. It was there that I introduced myself properly.

"Mr Belling, Victor," I began, "We've met. You know me."

He looked perplexed.

"Allan Jonsson," I prompted him.

He started, "You disappeared soon after we had those meetings at your place. I remember sending condolences to your lovely wife."

"You can see I was comprehensively beaten up. It was touch and go for over a year. I've only recently realised who I am and where I live. In the meantime, my wife has divorced me."

"I'm so sorry," he said with obvious sincerity and regret. "You were an ideal couple. I know everyone envied you."

"Well, water under the bridge."

"So why aren't you pitching for this order? Why get the young girl to do it?"

"The young girl is in her thirties, Victor, and she's talented. I believe in giving talent its head."

He nodded and smiled. We listened a while to the discussion and he nodded again. 

"Yes," he said, "she'll hold her own all right. My guys will have to look to their laurels."

The negotiations lasted three hours, and at last they came through to where we were.

"I need to talk this over with Victor, and we have meetings this afternoon," said Lemay, "but how about we meet for dinner and drinks this evening?" He was talking to Jenny, not to me. 

She cast a quick glance at me and I nodded imperceptibly, whereupon she gracefully accepted his invitation. Victor invited me to his place for dinner and I accepted gratefully. I had not welcomed the prospect of dining alone in the same dining room where Jenny was entertaining our client.

I stayed in the living room while she changed, and when she emerged she was breathtaking. Once again very simply dressed. A little black dress, cut to enhance her cleavage and reaching mid thigh which seemed her preferred length, and a simple necklace and earrings. Very much as she dressed for our first dinner together.

"You'll knock him for six," I said admiringly. "Shall I get another room for tonight?"

She looked horrified. 

"No way, Allan!" she asserted. "I don't like the man. This is purely in the interest of business and before you say it, I'm no whore. I don't lie down for trade." She was angry.

"I'm sorry. I certainly didn't mean you were to seduce him for the contract. I just thought you might fancy him; he's a good looking guy."

"Typical man!" she retorted, though more gently. "Couldn't you see his manner? He's totally self-obsessed. OK, he's easy on the eye and I'm sure he'll entertain me! He'll be very charming."

We both laughed at that, and parted to our separate dates.

Dinner was very pleasant. Victor's wife was much younger than he and very pretty. For all that they were clearly well matched, and I briefly wondered again about my reluctance to make my relationship with Trish more permanent. Too late now, I thought. 

I must have looked tired, for Victor offered to take me back. He called a taxi. I got in and he followed. I must have looked surprised.

"Allan," he said. "I have another idea I'd like to go over with you. Won't take long, but you could give it some thought."

I thought it strange but he was the customer. So we went back together and on arriving went straight to the conference room. It was booked for both days and we had left a lot of stuff there. His idea was not difficult, but would need a few months of effort to get it to work. 

He then suggested a drink, "I need to speak to Denis. Do you know where he'll be?"

"The bar?" I suggested, so we went down to the bar but there was no sign of them. "Perhaps they've gone up to our suite."

"You're sharing?" he raised an eyebrow.

"The only suite left. Purely platonic, Victor. I mean, look at me!" I grinned to save him embarrassment. He grinned back.

"Point taken. Can we gatecrash their party?"

"Not much of a party. I'd be surprised if there were anything going on, Victor. She doesn't like him much."

"I believe he can be persuasive." 

We went to the suite. As I pushed the card into the door slot Victor put his finger to his lips, and we slipped in quietly. There was no one in the living room, but we could hear voices. We stood and listened.

"Come on Jenny, you know you want to."

"Denis, get out of my bedroom. You were using the bathroom. You've used it. Now, out!"

"Jenny, you are a beautiful woman; you have needs, you know it. I can give you a wonderful good time."

I switched on my recorder. We needed a record of this.

"No you can't. I'm sorry Denis, but I just don't fancy you."

"You don't know what you're missing. My girl friends say I'm very good. I'll blow your mind. Promise."

"Get out, Denis. Go home. I'm not interested."

"I think you will be. You want this contract. I have to go to Victor tomorrow morning and give my recommendation. Which way do you want it to go? I can't see you being popular if you blow this deal."

"You blackmailing me for sex, Denis? Is that how you get women into bed?"

"I'm only doing it for your own good, petal. You'll thank me when you see my cock and feel it inside you. So what's it to be? Contract signed or turned down?"

"You bastard. You low down piece of shit. You can't do this. You know our stuff is miles better than the opposition."

"But Victor doesn't. It'll be your word against mine. He thinks the sun shines out of my ass, so get your things off and lets get to it. Here, I'll help you."

"Get off me! Get off me!" Now there were sounds of a struggle.

"Shut up. You stuck up little tease. Showing your tits and legs up to your ass. You know you want to, you little slut!"

There were groans and grunts and I moved to the door of the bedroom. They were on my bed. Denis was on top of Jenny, his hand up her skirt, she was writhing with his weight on her.

"I think Ms Tasker wants you to leave her alone," I said.

He froze. Then "Get out!" he shouted. "This whore is mine!"

"I don't think so," I spoke very quietly so that he had to strain to hear me. "This is assault and rape, and if this is the way you conduct business, I'm afraid we don't want to supply you, and I'll be informing Mr. Belling why."

He sneered. Jenny was now still underneath him, but he had withdrawn his hand. 

"Your word against mine. I know who he'll believe, certainly not some minor technician and his whore of a sales girl. I'll tell him you set me up so you could get out of the deal because it was too big for you."

"I don't think you will." 

The voice was also quiet, but had authority and came from behind me. "Lemay, you will collect your effects from your desk first thing tomorrow. You no longer work for me."

Lemay jumped up and faced us, his erection pushing his underwear through the hole in his unzipped trousers. "You can't do that, Belling. I'll sue you. You've no evidence anything happened here."

While they were talking I had retrieved the recorder, and now stood behind Victor. I played it and he paled. 

"Not just a sacking matter as I said. This was attempted rape. Be assured the police will get this."

He lunged for the recorder. I stepped back and Victor stuck his foot out. Lemay went sprawling. We stood each side of him. 

"You really are a very stupid man," said Victor. "Apart from what we heard, this is the owner of the company we've been negotiating with, and he's a personal friend. I would have believed him over you any time. Now get out of here."

He scrambled to his feet and stumbled out.

"How's Jenny?" asked Victor.

"I'll see to her. I think it better if you leave her to me."

"You're right, see you tomorrow. I'll do the final contract with you, or Jenny if she's up to it."

He hugged me and I hugged him back. I downloaded the recording onto a memory stick and gave it to him, and he went. 

I went back into the bedroom. Jenny was lying on her stomach and trembling, panting for breath.

"Jenny," I whispered, and put a hand on her back.

Her reaction was immediate and violent. She turned, raised herself and threw herself into my arms, sobbing her heart out. I held her as tightly as she held me and I stroked her hair and made soothing noises until she quietened. It took a long time.

Then she began talking, her head on my shoulder as I sat on the bed and held her.

"On my eighteenth birthday my boyfriend was in my room and we were going to have sex. The bedroom door must have been unlocked because an uncle of mine walked into the bedroom. He had a key to the house. I was playing with John's prick and he was fingering me. I was naked. My uncle threw my boyfriend out then came back.

My father was very narrow-minded and strict, and if he were to find out there was no doubt at all he would have thrown me out of the house. It was my final year at school and I desperately wanted to get to university.

"My uncle told me the price of his silence and you'll know what it was. He used condoms and had me over and over again for the rest of that year. He didn't consider me but just used me. He'd text me to go to his house. It was quite clinical -- just relief for him.

She sniffed.

"One day early in the summer term I couldn't bear it any more and told my mother. She wouldn't believe me, told me I was a slut and a liar, but that night I heard my father and my uncle. The row was terrible and then my father came upstairs. He had a face like thunder.

"'Is it true?' he asked. 

"I knew what he meant, and nodded. 

"'And what you did with the boy?' 

"I nodded again, I said, 'We were touching each other, that's all.'

"His face changed and he looked so sad. Then he turned and went back down. Then there was more of a row. My uncle disappeared and we never saw him again. 

"My father never referred to the matter again, but he could never talk about his emotions, and I never talked to my mother about anything personal from then on, but I've been hurting ever since. 

"I worked hard. That's all I did. Got my exams. My degree. I was known as the 'frigid bitch', or 'dyke' because I never went with any guys. 

"Allan, I've not had sex since my uncle. I couldn't give myself. I told you I was turned off by the aggressive boys. I suppose they weren't that aggressive, but it felt like it to me. The gentle boys never came near me.

"Tonight. It all came back. The violence, the forcing. You, Allan, you stopped it all. You weren't all macho and violent. That would have made it worse. You used words. You were gentle. I dismissed you as weak when you first came back to work. Stupid.

"Allan, I want to get into bed now. I'm so tired."

I made to get out of her way but she grabbed my arm.

"Will you do something for me?" She didn't wait for my reply. "Will you undress me and put me to bed?"

Would I? I did. She stood and I undressed her, unzipping her dress and lifting over her head, putting it on a hanger while she waited. Then her tights. She lifted each foot to help me. Then her jewellery. She was in a lacy bra and a scrap of lace covering her bottom. I stopped.

"Everything." she said, her eyes closed.

I unclasped her bra and took it from her. Then slipped her panties down her legs. She stepped out of them and was naked. Her breasts were on the small side and showed no sign of sagging. Her bush was trimmed to a landing strip. Her body was tight and firm. Though she was about thirty, she held out her hands like a little girl to be picked up. I put one arm under her legs at the knees and the other under her arms and lifted her up. She wrapped her arms round my neck as I did so. I carried her from my bed to hers and laid her down. I stroked her cheek and bent down and kissed her forehead, pulling the quilt over her naked body. Then I brought her a brandy and some milk from the fridge (I always get fresh milk in hotels), which she drank and snuggled down into the bed. She smiled seraphically and closed her eyes.

It was past eleven, so I used the bathroom, and assuming she was asleep, stripped naked and was about to put my boxers on when her voice stopped me.

"Leave them, Allan. Would you cuddle me tonight? I need to be held."

What could I do? I walked round to her bed and got in behind her. She turned over and cuddled into my shoulder, gave a little mewling sound and was fast asleep. It was what she needed: the first non-sexual cuddle for over fifteen years even though we were both naked. I fell asleep.

When I came to in the morning it was just getting light. I was facing the edge of the bed. Seeing my own bed I realised where I was and turned gingerly. She was awake and staring into my eyes.

"Good morning!" she whispered.

"Good morning!" I whispered back. We both laughed and she scooted over and into my arms. I enfolded her and she got her second cuddle. She lifted her face for a kiss and I obliged. She kissed me back. Our kisses went on for some time. 

"Thank you, Allan. I need the loo," and she was gone. 

I got up and made coffee, bemoaning to myself the lack of tea. She came up behind me and pressed herself against my back, her perky breasts feeling deliciously sharp as they dug into me. Her bush pressed against my naked buttocks and she rubbed it against me. My physical response was immediate. She let me go. I picked up the cups and turned offering her a cup of coffee and sight of my erection.

She laughed, "Did I do that?" knowing the answer.

"Yes," I responded, trying to be stern, "Now get yourself covered. We still have work to do."

"Oh, spoil sport," she pouted.

"Jenny," now I was serious, "you've been without love and affection for a long time. How you've kept so warm and friendly I don't know. Just enjoy the comfort for now. Let's move a little at a time; this is a reaction to a dreadful shock you had last night. I have no intention of taking advantage of you."

"You can you know!" she smiled, her head on one side, and one hip dropped, hand on the higher one, and she winked. "Take advantage I mean!"

"Not now," I said. "Let's get dressed."

The contract was signed and delivered. Victor invited us for dinner, together this time. We accepted. I emailed Geoff with the news.

We cleared the conference room and in the afternoon we did the shops. The evening went well. We returned to the hotel by taxi, alone this time, nestling against one another.

We prepared for bed. This time we undressed ourselves in each other's presence and staring at each other's bodies. She seemed to regard my body with a mixture of sadness and lust; I regarded hers with impure one hundred per cent lust. I used the bathroom first then she went in. I was in my bed when she returned. She came over.




The Way Back Ch. 04



"Can I come in?" she asked seriously, wide-awake and sure of herself.

"Cuddles only Jenny. Before we do anything else we have to talk. You understand? My life is complicated."

"OK," she said, "Hugs only. Budge up!" 

I budged. We hugged. She made comfortable little noises as she nuzzled my neck and we kissed. We slept.

Business was over, and we had all day Saturday to play. We saw the steam clock, went across the water to the North Shore and strolled round the covered market, revelling in the myriad stalls and the wonderful and varied smells. We sampled all sorts of foods, savoury and sweet, and she bought some cheap jewellery. We sat and drank coffee looking out over the water at the skyline of South Shore Vancouver with its skyscrapers. In the afternoon we took in Stanley Park, taking the horse-drawn bus half way round and walking the rest along the coast. As we walked I decided it was time to talk.

"Jenny, you know my story. You know there is so much unfinished, uncertain in my life. Trish was my nurse and made it clear before we bedded down together that it was 'no strings sex', but it wasn't 'no strings' at all. It seems I can't have 'no strings sex'. Trish could until we began our relationship, but then she needed more from sex than just the orgasms. 

"Trish and I are comfortable because we know the score; she's set on joining her family in New Zealand, and I have as yet to resolve my relationship with Ann. You know what meeting Ann did to me. I'm utterly muddled in my emotions about her or at least our history. 

"From what you've told me, if we make love will you fall in love with me? If so, what happens if Ann suddenly wanted to come back to me and I wanted it too? Say you and I were having a sexual relationship, where would that leave you? You'd feel betrayed, let down, spurned. What would that do to your confidence for new relationships? I can only see strain in a relationship like that. 

"And then there's the fact that we work closely together. If we had a relationship how would we work together if it ended? At present you are completely indispensable. Say you or I found someone else, what would happen to you at work? You couldn't continue to work with me, could you?"

We walked on in silence. At length she spoke.

"Allan, when I knew who you were and how you were handling the problems in your life, I admired you. You were so thoughtful. You were concerned more about your ex-wife's feelings and the problems she'd face if you confronted her than for yourself. When you met her and it devastated you, you were open with me about your shattered state. Then for me it was more than admiration. I wanted you.

"You are always so gentle. You cope with dreadful difficulties with cheerfulness. The only men interested in me were self-centred, it's the curse of being pretty. Oh, yes, I know I'm pretty, I've been told often enough. I know I inspire lust in men, witness the night before last. No one got as close as he did to using me for his pleasure since... 

"I have a confession to make. When I asked you to undress me, you knew I was in an emotional mess, but what you didn't know was that I thought I'd get you to screw me. I wanted love and to be cherished but men haven't been like that so I put out for you. What did you do?" 

Here she laughed. 

"You treated me like your little daughter. I bet you cuddled Greta just like you cuddled me. Once you put me to bed I didn't care any more what happened. You'd loved me without using me so I asked you into my bed. If you fucked me, fine, at least I'd had some love and affection with the lust. If you didn't... Well, you didn't. I was your daughter for a night and you were my father. It felt so secure; I can't remember when I felt so secure, so loved. My father never loved me like that," and she went off into a reverie of her own.

I wanted to speak and I didn't. I wanted... I didn't know what I wanted. I put my arm around her shoulder and she put hers round my waist.

"See?" she said, smiling at me, "Your reaction is always to care. I bet you were a great father. God! your kids must have missed you! So yes I am aware, no, it's crystal clear to me that it is almost impossible for our relationship to last. I mean if we make love. 

"You saved me, you are saving me. I'm so grateful for this trip. I'm grateful you had confidence in me to negotiate the deal. I'm grateful that toe-rag tried to rape and blackmail me. You know why? Because when you intervened I felt someone loved me for me, not my face or my body. Even now, when I'm throwing myself at you, you are concerned for me. 

"So I want you to make love to me. I need the physical side from you as well as the care and concern. I was used by a man for nearly a year. I need to know what real love is like from another man, I mean that sort of love, physical lovemaking."

I thought for a moment. I still thought it was a bad idea for the sake of our future relationship. I couldn't commit to her, and I suspected that if we made love it would not be easy to break up if that became necessary. But she was a big girl now, in her thirties for goodness' sake! That immediately provoked another thought.

"I still have misgivings about this but if you want a relationship, you've got it. Please don't blame me if you're hurt when we break up."

She sighed a sigh of relief, "I really need you in that way."

"So we had better find somewhere to buy some condoms."

"Oh, no! Not for our first time. I don't want any rubber between us."

"But--"

"Look, Allan, I may not have had any sex for ages, but I'm not stupid. My period is due in a couple of days, and I'm regular as clockwork, so I'm safe. I have a thirty-two day cycle. No condoms!"

That ended our discussion. We returned to the hotel, and once in the suite she peeled off her clothes and ran to bathroom in her bra and knickers. I heard the shower running so settled down to wait. Not long as it happened.

"Now you," she said happily, and I obeyed, stripping down and taking my shower. She was right; the walk had made me sweaty. When I returned to the bedroom she was in my bed, the quilt up to her neck. I pulled back the covers and she was naked.

"I thought of putting something on for you to take off, but I decided this was me and you, and nothing between us. You don't mind?"

I gazed at her naked loveliness, her breasts proudly erect like two hillocks, her flat stomach, her landing-strip bush proclaiming she was a natural blonde, and her long tapering legs and dainty feet. 

"No," I said as she blushed at my inspection. "I don't mind at all. Nothing you wore could improve on this body." 

A corny even cheesy line but she blushed more deeply and gave a satisfied smile.

"Good," she said, "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Looking as you do that would be impossible." 

Grief, what was I saying? Where were the biscuits for cheese?

I pulled her legs gently nearer to the end of the bed, spreading her legs, so that her sex was open to me. Then I got two pillows and put one under her head, and the other under her bottom.

"What?" she began.

"Just relax," I ordered, as I knelt and bent over the end of the bed, my face approaching her opening. "Lie back and enjoy." 

I ran my tongue over her labia, from back to front, missing her clitoris, round the front of her slit and down the other side. She gasped. Good. She was meant to gasp. Then, opening her with my fingers, I ran my tongue up and down her inner lips.

"Oh, Allan!" she groaned. Better. She was getting into it, and from the increasing dampness her body was as well.

So I continued until, on an upward stroke, she humped her sex down to get my tongue on her sensitive nub. I dodged and she uttered a complaining moan. I stayed round the entrance to her vagina after that and she began to work her body, begging for a touch to her button. So it was time to grant her desire. Up my tongue went and this time I dragged it lightly over her clit. She jumped! 

"Oh!"

Then a quick series of strumming licks, and she began to become vocal. Not words but a medley of sweet sounds, some guttural, some a high-pitched wailing. She became much wetter and her movements became more intense as I swirled my tongue around her clit. 

Now she was coming. Her legs clamped round my head as I licked her through it and a high pitched squeal come from her followed by panting and jerking. At length she relaxed enough for me to escape from her grip and replace my tongue with my fingers, as I gently stroked her down from the heights, her twitching becoming more gentle.

Once she became quite still, I got up from my position at the end the bed and crawled onto it, and up her body, her arms coming round me and pulling me to her.

"Oh!" she sobbed, "I never. I never."

I kissed her, and she kissed my wet mouth back with abandon, her hands roving over my back. What is it about women that they like to trace scars? Who cares? It feels good.

"Please, Allan," she breathed, "Put it in me. I want it. Now?"

I pulled her over me and as she straddled me, I took her hand and put it on my rampant cock.

"You put it in." 

She looked surprised, but quickly lined me up and sank down onto me with a sigh and groan of satisfaction. Once she bottomed out onto my root she stayed still, gazing at me with wonder. 

Then, imperceptibly she began to move. Not up and down but in a circular motion, rubbing her mound and her clitoris against my root. It clearly had the desired effect, because her movements became more intense and more rapid until she was once again panting, her head thrown back and her eyes tightly closed. Then she stopped for a second, her eyes opened wide, looking at me as if in utter surprise, before they closed again and she moved her slit frantically against me until she cried out and fell forward. 

It was then she began to hump me. Up and down she went, leaning forward over me, her breasts swinging above my face, catching her breath as each twinge took her. I caught her tits and rubbed my thumbs over her nubs, causing her eyes to fly open and her bouncing to accelerate until I in my turn began to utter my own sounds of impending climax. 

There was the flash of a smile in her exertions, panting now, and increasing the stroke of riding me, until I came hard inside her, shuddering and quivering, feeling the semen rising and spurting into her.

She gradually slowed her pace and fell forward over me, her lips on mine.

"Totally!" she panted. "Totally! Utterly! Oh!" as she pulled away to look into my eyes, breasts hanging.

I got the picture. I grinned. No words. Just a grin. She smiled back, a satiated smile.

My cock was now softening, and slipped from her. I got some tissues from the bedside table and pushed them between her nether lips. She looked puzzled. 

"Keep the bed dry!" I winked, and she laughed.

"We can sleep in my bed," she chortled, "I like the feeling of your juice running down my legs."

So I quickly removed the tissues. She guffawed!

Over dinner she talked about her year of abuse, and her subsequent distrust of men. 

"I've wasted too many years," she said at length. "I'm thirty-one and time is running out. I want children."

"I've wanted to ask you. You're thirty-one as you say, and you took a job as an ordinary secretary in a small company, yet you're really talented. What've you been doing all these years?"

She launched into an account of her life since gaining her masters. That she had a second degree surprised me. She had decided to travel the world. So many stories. Six years later she returned. This was her first job.

"I don't know what I was looking for, but today I found something and someone. I never knew what sex could be like until today. I fingered myself, obviously. But today..." She drifted into silence. 

"You know," I said, "you talked about the arrogant men, good looking ones, and about the less attractive who were intimidated by you. You know you have to go get those shy uncertain men. You need to be quiet and gentle to give them confidence. They'd never believe their luck."

"I don't think I have enough confidence to take the initiative. Please don't get rid of me so soon. Can we be together for a little longer?"

"I wasn't trying to. Of course we can be together. I just didn't want you wasting your time with me if you find someone else, someone who's a little shy perhaps. But there are also nice confident men, you know. Thirty isn't too late. I just didn't want you to close off any options that crop up."

"Please, stay with me for a while?"

I cursed inwardly the damage that man had done her. She saw my face change.

"What's the matter?"

"I was thinking of the damage all those years ago. And yes, I'll be here for you."

When we got back to the room, she undressed me, and I her. We lay down, and I began to trace patterns on her wonderful firm skin, ranging over her whole body. This time there was no teasing. If my hand passed over her vulva, my fingers would penetrate the folds and stroke her clitoris, and her breasts got a lot more attention than they had earlier, her nipples standing proud. She was well into her arousal, gently moving in response to my hands and fingers.

Then, "Please, Allan, do me now. You on top. Take me. I want to know how it feels."

So I rolled over her and raised myself, looking down into her eyes. She nodded and pulled at my buttocks, spreading her legs wide.

"Now," she said.

I put my cock to her furrow, slipped it down to her wet hole and, finding the place and the angle, pushed in firmly. She smiled and raised herself up to meet it and push it in deeper.

"Do me please."

So I did, long strokes gradually getting faster, while she exhaled and panted and thrust herself against me, becoming more frantic as she neared her release. She came silently, holding her breath before the twitching and spasming began, when she began to breathe again with ragged breaths. It sent me over the edge and I came, grunting with the sensation and sensuality of it all.

"Good. Good." she said as she got her breath to a normal pattern. "That was so different. I loved it! A sort of exorcism."

I got us a couple of glasses of wine and we sat in bed and drank. Then we got up and packed ready for the morning. The flight was mid-afternoon, but we needed to be there hours before. Then we went to bed in the other bed and fell asleep in each other's arms. I could get used to this, I thought, as I gazed at the lovely blonde sleeping peacefully beside me. Perhaps I want to get used to it, was my last thought.

The less said about the flight the better. Nine and a half hours with a screaming baby in the seat behind is too long. We left mid-afternoon Sunday and arrived mid-morning on Monday. We got to my flat at lunchtime and against all the wisdom of seasoned travellers, went to bed for three hours. We got a takeaway by phone and after she'd eaten she kissed me long and sensuously and went back to her own place.

When I awoke next morning, I had no recollection of what I had done for the rest of the day, but all my washing was done and in the machine. I put it in the drier and sorted out my papers, went to the supermarket and stocked up, and after lunch got in the car and went into the office. Jenny was not there. Good, I thought.

Geoff and I went over the papers and pronounced the expedition a success. I kept yawning and eventually Geoff sent me home! 

------ 

SIXTEEN

I had just arrived back in the flat, feeling dazed and wondering whether I should have been driving at all, when the phone rang. I cursed under my breath. I wanted sleep. It was Keith.

"Allan, I know you're jet lagged, so I won't keep you. While you've been away I've found that bloke on the CCTV in York. I took Colin along and met him in a pub. I recorded our conversation, such as it was. We all need to meet and listen to it, can you make it to the pub tomorrow night as usual?"

"Yes. Fine. I can't concentrate at the moment. Better tomorrow."

"Good. What the man said was quite an eye-opener. Brings a whole new dimension to the case."

Ten minutes later, it rang again. David this time.

"Sorry, old chum," he began. "I'll be brief. House completion on Friday. Have you a partner for the dinner-dance on Thursday?"

I assured him I'd work on it the next day, and he too rang off.

I fell into bed. I think I was asleep before my head was on the pillow. The next morning, again I had a headache to end all headaches and a faint feeling of nausea. I made tea and downed a couple of pain-killers with it. Then some bland cereal. I blessed the fact that I wasn't going into work today.

An hour later I felt a good deal better. I reviewed the past days. 

Sex with Jenny. 

OK, so it wasn't really a good idea but seemed right at the time, particularly in view of her history. Wasn't she good in bed! I decided to invite her to the Chamber of Commerce dinner-dance. 

I really ought to get in touch with Ann, I thought, and get all these misunderstandings out in the open. Then thought again and decided to wait until after the dinner dance. I still hadn't sorted out my feelings for her. I loved the memories. I thought she was a beautiful woman and there was the usual male desire for her. However there was all the other baggage and her new relationship. From what everyone told me it seemed she was a faithful soul; once she gave her promise she stuck by it through thick and thin. She had promised herself to Derek. Best to concentrate on getting access to the children and let her get on with her life. 

The thought hurt but it was right. Ann and I were history, in the past. Now we needed to get on with our own lives, but unbidden that surge of regret and resentment returned. This whole situation should never have happened. Talking of getting on with one's own life, I now had two women on the go! 

To that end I phoned Jenny. She was awake and sounded bright. I asked her outright without pre-amble.

"Like to come to a dinner-dance tomorrow? Chamber of Commerce? Geoff and Susan are going and David Lombard and his wife Vivienne. It's a formal thing, black tie; long dresses etc."

She almost squealed with delight. 

"Love to, Allan! Shall I pick you up? You'll be drinking."

"I think we can run to taxis, don't you?"

She agreed happily and after getting a time of departure, rang off.

Mid afternoon I rang Trish and filled her in on the events of the Canada trip. She was quiet at that. Then I told her of the house completion and she wished me luck. She said she would be able to get time off over the Easter weekend, Thursday to Monday at least and looked forward to seeing the house, if I wanted her.

"Trish," I said, hoping I sounded reassuring, "Jenny and I had sex. It was good. We are not an item. There is a history. She needs me at the moment. I want you here please. I'll tell you all when you come. I think you should meet her." 

She sounded happier and promised to come on Thursday if I phoned her on Wednesday to confirm. I told her again to come.

That evening we were all assembled in the Cross Keys for our Wednesday meeting of 'the four.' Colin and Keith looked sombre. The recorder was on the table. Once we had our pints in front of us. Keith began.

"This isn't good news, Allan, but better to know. That's what we all want, isn't it?" He looked round the table; we all nodded. He continued. "I'll play the tape as it is, and we'll talk after."

-----

Keith:     Ted O'Malley?

O'Malley:   Yeah, who wants him?

Keith:      We think you can help us with an enquiry after a missing person.

O'Malley:   You the police? .

Keith:      I'm a Private Investigator.

O'Malley:   Well, my memory isn't all that good. 

Keith:      Let me get you a drink.

O'Malley:   Now that's more like it. Might loosen up the memory. 




The Way Back Ch. 04



Keith:      There may be other, shall we say, incentives, as well.

O'Malley:   Fire away then.

Keith:      Three years ago last August, you were in York.

O'Malley:   Was I?

Keith:      Here's a photo of you at a hotel.

O'Malley:   Ah, yes. It was York races. Always go to York races.

Keith:      This was a couple of years ago. Look at the photo. See the man and woman? It's the man we're interested in. Here's another, this time at York station. Same man and woman, and there's you in the foreground. Now this one: you're leaving the station with him.

(A pause)

Keith:      So?

O'Malley:    What do you want to know?

Keith:      Well, first of all, do you know the man?

O'Malley:    I might.

Keith:      The information could be valuable, if you see what we mean.

Colin:      You seem to be watching them in both photo's. 

O'Malley:    OK, the man is a bloke called Johnson. Runs a computer firm or something like that.

Keith:      So why were you watching him?

O'Malley:    I got paid to.

Colin:       By?

O'Malley:    Can't tell you that. More than my life's worth.

Keith:       A business rival.

O'Malley:    You could say that.

Keith:      So what were you paid to do?

O'Malley:    This bloke, name of Johnson or something; Swedish name. He went to York to do a business deal, and I was sent after him. I was going to the races anyway.

Keith:       How did you manage to follow him? By car?

O'Malley:    He went by train. So it was easy to keep an eye on him. I was asked because I always go to York in August for the races.

Colin:       What were you following him for? I don't get it.

O'Malley:    I was to keep him in sight and when he checked out of his hotel I was to tell these three laddos who were staying in York. Then I was to wait until he got to the station and tell him that his customer had come back and wanted to see him again.

Colin:       Customer?

O'Malley :    I was told he was in York to meet a customer for his company.

Keith:       So?

O'Malley:     Well, I was to tell him there was a car outside waiting to take him back to the hotel, and take him to the car. He got in and it drove off.

Colin:       How many in the car? 

O'Malley:    Just the driver. He was one of the three blokes I told you about.

Keith:       Do you know these three men?

O'Malley:    Yes. Come from Wythenshaw. 

Colin:       Names?

O'Malley:    No way. I value my life. I've been well paid to keep my mouth shut. I've already told you too much. You don't want to be asking too many questions about this. Could get you hurt. Things like drive-by shootings can happen. If I were you I'd forget the whole thing. Tell your client, is it his wife? It's best left alone. 

Keith:       Thanks Ted. 

O'Malley:     Oh, thank you sir!

Colin:       Oh, one thing. What colour was the car?

O'Malley:     Red Toyota.

Colin:       Registration?

O'Malley:     You must be joking!

------ 

Colin began the discussion.

"Well, gentlemen. We can establish a number of things from that conversation. The first is that your attempted murder was organised from here. It was organised; it was not random. We suspected that already. The second is that the three men O'Malley talked about are likely to be the murderers; they have a red car and there are three of them. That ties in with evidence from the Newcastle witness. That's progress."

"It's a step forward," said David, "but unless O'Malley can be persuaded to come up with the names how far forward have we come?"

"I think there is another possible lead," ventured Keith. "I know O'Malley is a jobbing builder, turns his hand to bricklaying, joinery, you name it. He works with a lad. I think it's his son. People subcontract building jobs to him, or he takes on jobs on short contracts. It should be possible to get an idea who he's been working for over the past few years. I think we'll find that among them will be the someone who's given him this contract to follow you Allan."

"Another intriguing question," said David, "is how did this person who employed O'Malley know you were going to York and to meet a client? Brings up the question of whether you've got a mole in your company working for someone else. 

"Any other company doing roughly what you're doing, likely to try something like this? Bear in mind they might have only contracted for you to be injured, those Wythenshawe lads might have just lost it when they started kicking you. It's happened before."

I thought about that. From recent conversations with Geoff, I knew there were three or four small ventures competing in our field. I just couldn't see any of them doing something like that. Except Northern Moor Developments. Craig Wilkinson was not a nice man according to Geoff.

"The only one I could think capable of something like this is Northern Moor. They've fallen flat a couple of times undercutting us and then failing to deliver, We've then cleaned up. Craig Wilkinson might harbour a grudge, and he does hail from Wythenshawe like our three. 

"But our workforce is fiercely loyal, we pay them over the odds and they have a vested interest in our success, the bonus scheme. Geoff might know if there are any he feels unsure about. Bear in mind it is nearly three years ago. The person may have left. He'd have to look up the records."

"I'll call by tomorrow," said Colin. "And you should know that I'm handing all this over to our lads. They should have enough to go on, and really it's a police matter now. Someone will know of three lads who go about in a Red Toyota. I'll keep you posted."

"I'll see what I can find out about who employs O'Malley most often," added Keith. "It may turn something up, or will your lads be doing that?" he asked Colin.

"Not immediately," Colin replied. "Eventually we're going to have O'Malley in for questioning. We'll see if fear of being an accessory to attempted murder is more frightening than his erstwhile employer, but you go ahead."

I bought the drinks all night. These men were unrelenting in their efforts; it was the least I could do.

Once again Vivienne drove us home. I was somewhat unsteady on my feet, and went straight to a bed that seemed to be pitching in a rough sea every time I closed my eyes. I staggered to the bathroom and wasted good beer retching into the lavatory bowl. Then I slept.

On Thursday morning I awoke feeling perfectly healthy. I breakfasted, showered and shaved, and drove to work, wondering idly in the rush hour traffic if I was still over the drink drive limit. Jenny and I sorted out a few problems with specifications on some orders.

Colin arrived and Geoff checked his records. There were two characters that Geoff had kept on for a short time, but they were not co-operative and didn't fit in. A cleaner had left shortly after I disappeared, but she had been with the firm for a couple of years. He gave their names, and their addresses at the time to Colin. The two were Wythenshawe addresses; the cleaner lived in Sale. Things seemed to be tying in. Geoff confirmed that everyone knew where I was going, it was no secret, in fact he said that people on the shop floor joked with me that I was only going for the races!

At lunchtime, along with Geoff, we went home to prepare for the evening. Jenny had been fussing over what to wear, until I rather testily told her to phone Geoff's wife Susan, which she did, putting her tongue out at me. She looked divine! I asked her to do it again but she wouldn't. My last words to her were to be ready at seven thirty.

------

SEVENTEEN

At seven thirty-five, I rang her doorbell. The intercom buzzed and she told me to come up. I assured the taxi that we would pay, and went up the single flight of stairs to her door. It was open and I went in. There she was in the living area, in strapless bra and matching lacy high leg briefs stepping into the most striking dark crimson dress, It was strapless and she held it to her breasts.

"Zip me, please Allan," She said, and I did, as she held her hair off her exquisitely long sinuous neck, and she was ready. The dress was slightly pinched at the waist and with a hint of a flair from there to the ground, allowing her to move freely. The necklace she wore was gold in a lattice pattern and the earrings were of the same design. And the black gloves, three inch heels with the thinnest of straps, and the smallest black sequinned clutchbag completed the outfit. She was breathtaking.

"Jenny, you are looking absolutely wonderful," I gasped.

"Come on, we'll be late!" she answered with a grin. Did I detect a note of triumph? Most certainly.

While getting ready I had felt anxious, and to be frank I dreaded the evening, knowing that Ann would be there with her fiancé, remembering the effect she had on me at the restaurant, but one look at Jenny and I was eagerly looking forward to escorting this ravishing woman to the event. I knew I'd be the envy of every man there. I wondered for a second if Jenny would be leaving with me, but only for a second.

I must have been more than usually preoccupied because she interrupted my thoughts.

"Allan!"

"Yes, Jenny."

"How are we getting home? Have you arranged the taxi?"

"Yes, but--"

"I'd like to come home with you tonight, I mean your home. I don't know about sex, I'm on my period. I bought some condoms. Can we stop by and pick up my office stuff for tomorrow?"

"Well, yes, of course. We can go in together tomorrow. That should get the tongues wagging!"

"That's why I need to have something other than this dress to go to work in."

"That would really get them talking!" I liked the thought. She exhaled with exasperation. I grinned; she laughed.

Our entrance was something I'll certainly not forget. We were quite late. I gave our invitations to the doorman, and we went through the doorway and stood just inside while I looked for Geoff's and David's table. 

My eye was caught by Derek and Ann with their friends. I thought I recognised a few of the faces. The expression of pure incomprehension on Derek's face was priceless. You could actually see him wondering how someone as ugly as I am could have someone like Jenny. 

Ann looked up, a look of surprise flashed across her face to be replaced by a broad smile as she nudged Derek, and I heard her, or did I lip-read, as she said "Derek! Now you're the one staring!" and laughed. 

It's strange how such a trivial thing as a laugh can cause such a strong reaction. I felt rage for a brief moment, and all that anger that Trish had spent an entire weekend soothing away was back. I bit it back. I was conscious of Jenny staring up at my face and it jolted me back to the place and the wonderful person I'd come with.

"It's all right, Jenny," I said. "Seeing your ex. having a laugh can affect a person!" and I smiled at her.

I also cast a smile at Ann and then David called us from their table and we joined them. It was as well my attention was diverted, because I could still feel the resentment rising.

The meal was superb, seven courses with appropriate wines. Then came a few speeches, and then the floor was cleared for dancing. 

Now I used to dance pretty well. At least that's what Viv and Susan told me, but while walking without a stick was easy now, dancing was much more demanding on the knees and ankles and I knew I could not manage it without straining something, putting back my progress for months. 

All three women at our table asked me to dance at once and I had to tell them that It just wasn't possible. Geoff and David danced with each other's wives and with Jenny, so each time, there was a woman left over to talk to. Jenny was asked to dance by a steady stream of men though I noticed Derek did not try his luck. Jenny politely refused them all.

"Go on Jenny," I encouraged her. "You dance well, and you obviously enjoy it. Have fun!"

"Allan, I'm with you, not them."

At last there was a slow smooching number. 

"Come on," Jenny said. "You don't have to move for this one, just hold me," and she pulled me onto the floor. Her arms went round my neck and she gazed up into my face.

"Ann upsets you, doesn't she?" It was not really a question.

"I'm trying to cope with all the memories I now have of her. It's not just her, and the fact she seems to have come out of all this rather well, but the whole situation. I've had my life shattered, and everything I loved and valued has been ripped away from me. I'm not a happy camper!"

Her arms dropped to my waist, forcing mine onto her bottom, and she pulled me to her. My little friend immediately grew bigger and stood to attention, and she giggled. 

"You need distracting. How am I doing?"

"You're doing fine," I groaned. "but I wonder how I'm going to get back to our table." She laughed again at that, and pressed herself to me. Her body felt wonderful and the feeling of those tight breasts excited my cock even more.

As the song drew to its end, Jenny carefully manoeuvred us close to the table and we were able to sit down with a minimum of embarrassment. 

We sat out the next few dances, and then Jenny danced with David.

"How are you coping?" asked Viv, who was 'Allan sitting' for this dance.

"I'm managing. Through gritted teeth."

"David says you've remembered. When are you going to talk to her?"

"I thought I'd get this over first. I needed to see how she is with her new man. She's happy and at ease with him, but I'll have to sort out access to the children soon."

"Good. I know Greta misses her Dad, and the lads don't look happy. I don't think Derek plays with them or takes them out much. They really do need you."

"OK, OK, Viv," I retorted sharply. "This evening's hard enough without lectures."

"Sorry Allan, stupid of me. It must be horrible seeing them together, but you've picked a good distraction!"

I regretted at once my little outburst. "No, I'm sorry Viv, It's not your fault. I know you're right behind me in all this."

"So, who's the stunning woman who's tempting my husband to all sorts of naughtiness?"

"She's actually my PA."

"Only?"

"Well..." The dance ended and I was spared further revelations. 

I could just about hear Viv mutter to herself: "Two women on the go!"

It was three dances later when something happened which confused me completely. It was a 'ladies' choice' dance, and women all over the room were prowling round picking dancing partners. I had my back to the floor, and all I saw was everyone at the table stiffening. I began to smile, wondering which of David or Geoff were being targeted. Then I heard the voice.

"Excuse me, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

It was Ann, and she was talking to me. For a second I thought I'd been rumbled and she knew who I was. A silly notion, since she apparently hated my guts.

I turned to her, "I'm sorry, with my injuries I can't dance, but thanks for the offer, I'm honoured." I glanced at Jenny who looked completely baffled.

"You can move very gently, I'll be gentle. Please? I need to teach someone a lesson."

I thought I knew then what she was up to. I was about to apologise and turn her down when David interfered. 

"Go on, A... Lenny, you can't disappoint the lady." 

He had nearly given the game away. I shot him an angry glance. I could see the whole table willing me on.

"All right. Thank you, I'd love to 'dance' with you," I rose stiffly, a result of sitting for a while, and took her hand. 

One reads in stories about a touch being like an electric shock, but it is the only way to describe it. The first touch of my wife; the love of my past life.

We held each other very properly and moved slowly to the music, which was a slow waltz.

"I hope you don't mind too much, but my fiancé was very rude to you when we met at the restaurant and I get tired of his jealousy. This is his punishment."

I felt a surge of anger. She was using me in a game with her man. I suppressed it. She was talking.

"You were badly injured. How did it happen?"

"I was beaten up by three men who intended to kill me. They left me on a building site in Newcastle thinking I was dead. It was a contract killing. Someone wanted me dead and unidentifiable. They took all my clothes, everything that identified me."

She looked shocked. "But you survived."

"No, I died," I kept a dead pan face, as she looked puzzled and then laughed. That laugh again.

"Against all odds, yes, I survived. Coma for nearly a year, then I had to start from scratch, learn everything; I mean everything, all the most basic things, I got bits of my memory back and in January realised I lived here. David Lombard's been very good for me. He and his wife have been very kind."

There was a silence and I could see she was searching my face.

"What's the matter?" I asked her.

"Something about you. I can't place it. Something familiar--"

At that moment there was a commotion at my table. Derek had crossed over and was trying to convince Jenny to dance with him. Not violently but insistently and with affected good humour. Jenny was visibly becoming uncomfortable, but David was impervious to that. Ann dropped me and strode over to him. 

"Derek!" her voice, though very quiet, cut through the air. He stopped. She took him by the arm, none too gently. As she frogmarched him past me it was clear she was livid with anger. She had forgotten me.

I smiled. There was nothing to say. She had used me and got what she wanted. She always seemed to get what she wanted. In a way, I was relieved and rather grateful to Derek. Ann was getting too close to the truth, and I was gratified that they were having a row. I'm not proud of it but it felt good! I'd not easily forget she used me for her own purposes. Not nice. I'd remember that.

The table was all agog. 

"What was all that about?" asked Viv.

"She used me to get at her fiancé. Very pleasant." I stated, my bitterness showing. David reminded her of what transpired at the restaurant.

Viv was on her feet and moving, "She needs telling. That was nasty!" David tried to stop her but failed.

"I hope to God she doesn't let the cat out of the bag," he said with a worried frown, "It's up to you when you tell Ann who you are, not her."

I was sitting on a different chair and could see it all. Viv had stopped by the table. She was talking animatedly. Ann looked startled, glanced over at us and to give her her due, looked repentant. She rose and came back with Viv.

"I'm so sorry," Ann said. "Viv is right. That was very rude of me. It was about teaching Derek a lesson about his jealousy, and I shouldn't have used you like that. Derek and I aren't speaking at the moment." She gave a short laugh. "What I didn't get to tell you was that I really wanted to apologise about his behaviour in the restaurant. That was my main reason for asking you to dance. Can you forgive me?"

I nodded. "Forgiven. Forget it."

She looked puzzled again, "I can't get over the feeling I know you." 

I shrugged and she shook her head and left for her own table. 

It seemed Jenny was a mind reader, for she suggested we leave, which, after rendering thanks to our table, we did.

"Your ex-wife really gets you cooking, doesn't she?" Jenny remarked after we'd called at her flat to change and collect her things, and were once again on our way to my place.

"It's not her so much as what we had. Every time I see her it brings home to me what I'm missing. I had a full life with a wife and family. We were happy. And now... That's what's getting to me. She's moved on." I thought for a moment. "But I've got you and Trish, and that's quite some consolation."

"Yes. Trish," said Jenny. "Is she joining you for Easter?" I could not read what she felt about that.

"Yes, I think so, coming on Thursday and leaving on Monday. Have you plans for the holiday?"




The Way Back Ch. 04



"I'm glad you left me alone for the last two days or so, I've had the chance to do some thinking, and I've been on my period."

"And?"

"And I think it's time to go back to my parents and sort this whole thing out. We all ignore it when I go back, but it's been looming there for over ten years, and we pretend nothing ever happened."

"I'm glad. There's enough division in the world."

"Yes. After tonight, you'll be sorting out your relationship with Ann and the children, won't you?"

"I'll see David on Monday and he can arrange a meeting."

We both felt better for those decisions and after a glass of milk each we went to bed. As we settled down, I had an idea.

"Jenny, I complete the sale of my new old house tomorrow and I'm thinking of moving in on Saturday. Fancy giving me a hand over the weekend?"

"Try and stop me," she exclaimed. "Now, if you don't mind using a condom, I'm still a bit messy, do your duty to your girlfriend."

"Pardon? Which one?"

She punched my arm, "The one in bed with you."

"What's my duty to this girlfriend in bed with me?"

"Fuck her."

"Language, Jennifer!" I said haughtily.

I did as she asked though. She rolled the condom on for me. Ann receded into the distance.



The Way Back Ch. 05



 Hot Cross Buns: Rich bread buns made with butter, sugar and egg, spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg and mixed spice, and baked with a mix of dried fruit and candied peel.

EIGHTEEN

I left work early next day, Friday, telling Jenny to do the same. She didn't need telling twice. I collected the keys to the house. David offered to take me but I begged to go on my own. He gave me a sheet of paper with instructions on it.

"Be sure to remember the code to turn off the alarm, or you'll have the police there." David was emphatic.

Then I set out to drive to the house, full of trepidation and eagerness. I enjoyed every avenue and road, the gardens in spring bloom and the budding trees lining each road. Every metre was exciting and beautiful. It was a wonderful place to live. It helped that the sun was shining out of a cloudless blue sky.

Then there I was at the gate. The drive stretched before me, fifty metres to the front door. I drove up the drive slowly. The memories were flooding me again.

There I was in front of the door. I hesitated. There was fear. No reason. Need there be?

I put the key in the lock, and opened the door. Immediately there was a loud beeping sound. The Alarm! I scrabbled for my machine and found a four digit code number. The control box was by the front door, and I keyed in the number. The beep stopped. I did not understand the word 'Sweden' written underneath the box. 

The phone rang. I picked it up. "Yes?"

"Code word please."

"Sorry, who are you?"

"The alarm company. Please give the code word."

"Sweden?"

"Thank you. Have you had any problems?"

"I've just bought the house. I'm moving in."

"Mr Allan Jonsson?"

"Er, yes. What you should know is that I have transient bouts of amnesia. I have to consult a memory aid if I forget things. It delays things."

"We can increase the time delay."

"Please do. I don't want a panic like that every time I come home!"

That little discussion over, I began to explore the house. Yes, it was familiar. The kitchen was easy. What amazed me was that all the utensils were in place. It was a complete old fashioned kitchen. I had nothing to buy. David or Viv must have cleaned and turned on the fridge and freezer.

The living room looked familiar, though I couldn't say I recognised it. The two other rooms seemed to be an office or study and a dining room. The office had a computer. The dining room had a table and chairs and a sideboard, though there was nothing in it. Under the stairs was a door and I discovered the cellars. One had a snooker table, the second table tennis. There was a dartboard on one of the doors. The other two rooms had boxes stacked on top of each other. Something to explore when I had more time.

Upstairs, the bathroom and toilet held no surprises. Their cupboards were empty save for toilet rolls. Then the bedrooms. There were five of these. As I entered the first room the memories hit me. This was 'our' bedroom. There was the en suite bathroom; there were the two wardrobes and a dressing table. I opened the drawers and stood back in surprise. There were men's socks and underwear. In the wardrobe were suits and sweaters, and shirts and ties. Other drawers were empty, but the second wardrobe had a few dresses and skirts hanging up. I saw a vision of Ann wearing one of them, running in the garden with the boys. Perhaps I had a visual memory after all.

I found the drawers with the bedding and extracted a set. I unfolded it and left it to air. That's what my mother always did. Another memory. Even more of my life was being pieced together by my much-abused brain. I had a vivid memory of Stefan being sick on the landing. Strange memory. Another of all the children in our bed with us on Christmas morning; it brought a tear to my eye. The house was working its magic. I even remembered we got milk from a milkman, and resolved to engage his services, if indeed there still was one.

Yes, I belonged in this house, and it belonged to me with all the memories it would unlock. I looked at the central heating boiler and saw a note on the notice board by its side from David.

Dear Allan

I stocked the fridge with basics. Here is a list of take-away shops that deliver. You can order more supplies from Asda, Sainsbury or Tesco on line. You have broadband here. Try firing up the computer in the study. Welcome back home!

David

What a good friend he was! 

I made some tea and sat in the kitchen and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. It did feel like home. I had little time that night, but on the morrow I'd have all day to saunter round the place, inspect the garden, unpack my bags and try that computer. I turned on the radio and let the music and banter wash over me. Then it was time to wash up and leave for the flat. I'd be moving in tomorrow! 

I consulted the instructions and set the alarm, wondering if the loud insistent beeping had given it its name, as I shut the door and waited for it to stop. Then back to my other home, where I packed two suitcases and went to bed.

On Saturday I had an early breakfast and then loaded the car, travelled, dumped it and the suitcases and went walking round the district. Then I drove into Sale town centre. I needed supplies for the coming week and found Sainsbury's. I went back to the house weighed down with bags and was glad I had a car. I had left the alarm off, and was grateful for that.

My mobile rang and Jenny asked if it was a good time to come over. I gave her the address and she told me she was setting off.

Being back home and on familiar roads was helping my memory remarkably. I would test myself: could I remember the alarm code? What was the alarm password? Where was Sainsbury's? How would I get there by car? The feeling of being adrift in the world had gone long since but now in this new environment I feared that feeling would return. But I did feel at home, did I say that before?

Jenny arrived. We hugged and kissed.

I took her round the house, pointing out things that had triggered memories.

"This house is going to be very good for you," Jenny asserted, "It's a lovely old house; full of character," she said as we returned to the kitchen and I set myself to make a pot of tea. I sat happily opposite her at the oak kitchen table. I was home and one of my favourite women was with me for the weekend.

The day passed in a flash. We spent most of it on the road driving between my flat and the house, bringing my personal effects, unloading and finding places for everything. It turned out that all the men's clothing in the house was my size, and Jenny agreed that they were probably mine. Ann had never got rid of them. I left a change of clothes and spare toiletries at the flat. I decided to hold off terminating the lease; in any case it had six months to run.

In the afternoon we did all the things I threatened myself I'd do. We also cleaned. The house was dusty after being unused for so long. It was late evening when I ordered a Chinese meal for us. We were too exhausted to make love that night, but rectified the omission at length the next morning. 

There is something about Sunday morning sex. Perhaps it's the invitation to be relaxed, to take my time, and to be able to play my hands over the pliant, firm, sleekness of a breathtakingly beautiful blonde, hearing her vocal reactions to my varying caresses over each different part of her totally accessible body; lightest grazing of her nipples watching them grow and lengthen, the tracing of fingers up and down the concave hollow of her spine, the gentle stroking of cheeks upper and lower, the light drag of a thumb over her lips until she has to open her mouth and suck on it, running her tongue over it, presaging another licking and sucking to come, further south. 

The twisting and gentle pulling of her hair as her eyes close with the sensation, the raking of the fingernails up the back of her legs, tantalising the back of her knees, the delving and probing of her most secret parts denied to all other men, feeling the string of her tampon. Whoops! Watching her sink deeper and deeper into the sensuousness of her feelings, hearing her breathing deepen then catch and exhale as some part she had not expected was treated to my attention.

What better feeling is there when almost unconsciously her hand encircles my cock? When she absently traces fingers across my perineum and up the crack of my bottom, running over my buttocks and down the crease of my groin. Or when she idly plays with my earlobes, following the contours with a finger. When her finger demands access to my mouth and I suck on it. Or she bends on hands and knees, straddling my body, her bottom to my face, showing me everything while massaging my toes and feet and kissing them, sucking each into her mouth and laving them with her tongue.

How easy it is on such occasions to slide into a classic sixty-nine from there and to taste each other's deeply private parts, gradually allowing the intensity of desire to rise until she crests into her climax, and then seeks my cock for her aching pussy. Then comes the fierce pounding of body to body, as the bed rattles and thumps, humping with loud cries and shouts of surprise at the intensity of the throes of orgasm, and falling spent into each other, still joined and feeling the satiation in each other's arms.

Well, some of that anyway. The tampon was inhibiting! She realised she had to make some adjustments before I could enter her. A quick trip to the bathroom and an urgent rolling of the condom and then the age-old exercise. 

It is essential that the Sunday papers are delivered when you live at Cherry Tree Lane: the folk round here do not approve of naked men running to the newsagent's, and I wasn't intending to get dressed just yet. So no papers to read. However, I was able to access four frozen croissants and bake them while I made coffee. Then we took breakfast in bed before she took me in her mouth and made me come. Considering ten years abstinence, she did it with some expertise.

We went out to lunch and walked round the area in the afternoon, followed by tea, crumpets and home made scones, with butter and jam. Then kissing, and a request.

"Allan, sweetheart."

"Yes, my love."

"There's something I'd like you to do for me. No one else has ever done it to me, only you."

"Oral?" I asked.

"How did you know?"

"You liked it the first time, and it's the only thing we haven't done this weekend, at least to orgasm." I pointed out. "Come here."

"In a minute." And she ran to the bathroom. I heard the water running and realised she was cleaning herself. I cleared the table. Then she returned to the kitchen.

After I had pulled off her pants and her knickers, I put her on the kitchen table, leaning back on her hands, feet on the edge. I sat on a chair and leant in to take dessert at my ease. I put the tampon string to the rear and I set to work. 

I was slow, tantalising, until she was begging me incoherently to release her, which I then did, which was unfortunate. She came hard, her feet shot off the table and her pussy smacked me on the nose and banged my chin on the table, and when her eyes opened she noticed me rubbing my chin. She cried out, looking at me with a worried frown.

"What is it?" I grunted as I stood up.

"You're bleeding!" she cried.

I had a nosebleed.

"It's customary for the damsel to bleed, you know," she said, giggling. "In fact she is! How--?"

"You did it!" I tried to make my complaint realistic. I failed. She laughed.

"I never did!"

"You did! When you came. You're the only woman I know who can deliver a knock-out blow with her cunt!"

"Oh, Allan, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be. My fault for doing you on the table."

She pulled up her delicate wispy knickers and less delicate jeans, tenderly cleaned me up and then collected her things. "Work tomorrow." she said by way of explanation of her departure. She kissed me long and hard. "Thanks!" she said, "it's been a wonderful weekend."

"No, thank you," I retorted, and we kissed again, before she tore herself away and backed her car out of the drive.

I'm glad we can't see into the future. Otherwise I wouldn't have slept at all that night. But I couldn't, still can't foretell the future. Let's face it, I have enough problems with the past! 

So I did sleep.

------

NINETEEN

Work was no problem, not with a PA like Jenny. She kept an impeccable distance between us; very proper, even when there was no one to see. That's one thing I liked about her. She was single minded and had her own moral code. If we couldn't hold hands and kiss in front of the other workers, we wouldn't do it at all. At work, that is.

We had one visit to make on Tuesday that was quite local. One of Northern Moor's failures. It was a question of whether we could patch up their botched work or simply provide an alternative. When we got back we tidied up and prepared for the Germany visit which would happen after the Easter break.

David rang late afternoon to tell me that he'd met Ann and her solicitor for an attempt to resolve the financial dispute. They still wanted funds from the company that would effectively put it out of business and they didn't seem to be bothered about the fallout on the people working for us. So the dispute would now go to court.

On Wednesday I remembered Trish said she was coming on Thursday, but failed to remember I was supposed to phone her to confirm it. 

"Jenny?" I said, "Would you like to meet Trish tomorrow before you go off to see your parents?"

She looked uncertain.

"Jenny, you'll like her. Don't forget she's leaving for New Zealand after Easter. It may be your only chance. Without her I wouldn't be here. She encouraged me to get closer to you." 

She looked somewhat relieved and said she'd be round next morning.

"I won't come over tonight," she said, "I can't have you hopping straight from one bed to another!" 

She affected humour, but I could tell she didn't like the idea that I'd be in Trish's arms all weekend. There was nothing I could do, I had warned her that making love makes one possessive. Perhaps putting them together would be a good idea or the worst possible one.

As I was leaving the office the phone rang. It was Keith. "I need to meet you and the others tonight. Were you coming?"

Now Jenny was not coming over, I was free. 

"Yes," I replied, "it's the Wednesday meeting of 'the four'; wouldn't want to miss it."

"Usual time, seven thirty?" he said.

"OK. Cross Keys?" My question was really redundant; it was our local.

"Where else?" he laughed, and disconnected.

I tidied the house, knowing that when I got back from the pub I wouldn't do it. Then got a taxi to the pub. The three were there and looked sombre. 

"This doesn't look good." I said as I sat down; my pint was poured ready for me. I took a long drink and setting the glass down, looked round at them. "Well?"

"I happened to pass Northern," began Keith, "I haven't been along that road for a long time. I saw they had a new office extension and it triggered a memory of it going up. I stopped the car and thought about it, and it was about the time you disappeared. So I got out and walked back, and went into their reception area. 

"Why I did that I don't know, except that we did mention the company last time we met. I told the girl there that I had been passing and saw their new wing. I wanted something for my own business and wondered who had done it. 

"Get this. She said she thought she remembered it being O'Malley and his son. She said she remembered because he kept disappearing on other jobs. It was frustrating because it took far longer than promised; apparently it took nearly two years to finish the offices! So that puts O'Malley and Northern in the same frame. 

"But there was more, one of the office people was passing and must have heard our conversation. He told her that he thought O'Malley was subcontracted by another company, because there was him and his son but from time to time there were three other brickies helping out. You see where this is going? I thought so too. He was very helpful, the lad. He used the receptionist's computer and accessed their archives. He found out the builder's name for me. Derek Fanshaw."

It came as a shock. I was trying to make sense of it; how far it got us in our quest. 

"So there's a chance that either Northern or Fanshaw himself did this to me? But how do we find out if it's true? If so, which of them was behind it, if indeed they were?"

Colin took up the idea. 

"Cui Bono -- who benefits?" he said adding the rather free translation, and continued without waiting for a reply. 

"Northern have a motive that you've been taking their business. So they're definitely in the frame. But Derek Fanshaw? Is it likely that he'd put you out of commission just so he could move in on Ann? A bit extreme that."

"Fanshaw's been in financial du-du for some years," interrupted David, "and it's been getting worse. He needs an injection of cash to fund payouts to suing customers. He's quite desperate -- could be facing bankruptcy. 

"Notice what he and Ann are asking for -- millions out of the firm. Why ask for so much? She's well off with a good job and gets your very generous monthly payout. 

"There isn't a reason why, unless it's to fund Derek's shortfall. So there's a motive. Put you out of the way for good, Allan, sidle into your place in Ann's heart and marry her. Then he's in line for a good financial payout, even if they divorced he'd get a good deal out of it. Also, if she falls in love with him she'll do anything for him. He can't lose."

"Unless you survive, or your body is recognised," added Keith grimly.

"God!" I blasphemed, "That's frightening! I'm not sure I believe it, but if he was willing to kill me to get at Ann, how safe is Ann if they marry? He gets everything as her husband if she dies, unless she's cut him out of any will which I doubt if she loves him."

"Fucking Hell!" cursed Colin, "That's an aspect I hadn't considered. If he's behind this, and we don't know he is, remember, I think she would be in real danger. That changes things. The lads will need to move in on him. We need to get hold of his accounts and we need a thorough psychological profile of him. Certainly we need to interview his ex-wife.

"And then there's O'Malley. He knows. I think we're going to have to get him in. Try him with accessory to attempted murder, a few years in prison. His wife would love that. It may be enough to overcome his fear of reprisals."

Keith spoke quietly so he would not be overheard. 

"Colin, I think an unofficial meeting with O'Malley might bring more results, the three of us, not you David. I think he needs to see what his little part in the plot did to you, Allan."

"I'm a bit uneasy about that," said Colin, "but there again I'm not on the case -- I just feed them information. O'Malley doesn't know me either. He might be willing to spill rather than do it officially to the police. That would involve publicity. You realise Allan that when the arrests hit the press, you'll be famous."

"Don't like that idea," I said, shivering.

"I think I know where O'Malley'll be on Monday night, Easter Bank Holiday," said Keith. "He'll be in the Golden Lion. We could 'interview' him when he comes out. If the two of you can keep the evening free, I'll ring you if he's there. He does 'early doors' normally, leaves about nine.

"We need this information," I said, realising something. "If it's true, we have to stop the marriage taking place. There are lives at stake here. If he tried to kill me, he won't scruple to kill Ann, and what about the kids?"

There was a thoughtful silence. Then David broke it. 

"Allan, you were going to try to talk to Ann. I think that until we know the true facts you should hold off. We don't want to spook him if he's guilty."




The Way Back Ch. 05



That made sense, though I wasn't happy with the idea. 

"All the more reason to get to this O'Malley guy and extract the facts. But if Fanshaw's behind my attack I'm seeing Ann right away."

Colin said, "Allan, could you come to the station and give another DNA sample?"

I agreed and we left it there.

As I sat at home with a large measure of single malt whisky, I mulled over this latest development. The idea of Northern Moor being the author of my intended demise seemed too extreme, even for them, but the cumulative reasons Derek might have, put him squarely in the frame. I began to dislike the man more than ever. 

However, I had to be realistic; we needed hard evidence, and O'Malley would provide it one way or another. I finished the whisky and got myself some milk to take to bed, in the forlorn hope it would counteract the large amount of alcohol I had now consumed. 

The next day would prove interesting, I had no experience in separating fighting women! I wondered again if I'd done the right thing, inviting Jenny to meet Trish.

The doorbell woke me. I stumbled downstairs and opened the door to find Jenny standing there with a big smile on her face.

"Am I too early?" she asked, "I've brought some Danish for breakfast!"

"If you've brought Danish, your timing is perfect," I answered, pulling her to me for a kiss.

"Mind the Danish!" she cried, holding them to one side as I hugged her.

I made coffee, even though I much preferred tea to begin the day. But coffee goes better with Danish pastries. 

"What time is it?" I asked, as I worked.

"Ten." 

So I overslept. I toyed with the idea of telling her about the meeting the previous ,insight, but thought it better to wait until Trish arrived. Trish! My mobile rang as I remembered I should have rung her. 

Oh hell! I thought, as I connected. 

"Trish I'm so sorry, I should have rung you. There's been progress. I had a meeting with 'the three' last night. Where are you?"

She laughed. "Don't worry, I do remember you have a small memory problem still, and I know it surfaces most when you're stressed. Do you want me?"

"Oh, Trish, you've no idea how much I want you," I growled, and she howled with laughter. Jenny raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously," she calmed down, but was still ragging me, "Today's Thursday, did you know that? I have a long, long weekend off after all the overtime I put in. Want me to come?" again she giggled.

"Definitely, Jenny's just arrived. Where are you? At home?"

"Well, actually I'm at that service station just outside Bradford. Be there in under an hour. Give me the address." She told me she would ring me when she was near. She had an A to Z Street Map of Manchester.

Jenny and I changed plans and had a round of toast and some tea, keeping the Danish and coffee till Trish arrived, which she did almost exactly to the three-quarter hour. I answered the door.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, falling into my arms, kissing me and then coming up for air. "Great house! Even better inside!"

I led her to the kitchen where Jenny awaited us. I made the introduction and watched as they greeted each other, all the while sizing each other up. It amused me. I left the room and got Trish's cases from her car and took them up to the bedroom. 

There was a carrier bag, and inside it a large chocolate easter egg. I mentally thanked Trish: I had not thought of getting an easter egg for Jenny. I would have to find an opportunity to get one, though she would have to be given it on the Tuesday after Easter, but hell, for women chocolate is always welcome!

By the time I returned they were engrossed in conversation sharing information, much of it, it seemed, about me.

"Would you make the coffee, please darling?" ordered Jenny.

"And I believe there's some Danish, can you put them on a plate and lay the table, sweetheart?" commanded Trish.

They looked at each other and giggled. They had teamed up already and I was outnumbered. I did as I was told and then joined them at the table. Boy, could they talk! 

After the snack, Jenny led Trish away for a tour of the house, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I wondered how Jenny would react to seeing Trish's bags in our bedroom, but there was no jealousy there that I could detect.

Trish returned to the kitchen alone, Jenny having called at the bathroom on the way.

"She's lovely!" said girlfriend number one. "Hold onto that one!"

They suggested we find a local pub and get some lunch there. Jenny said she'd drive, since she'd be going home that evening.

"I don't want to drive you out," said Trish.

"No don't worry, I've got to pack. I'm visiting my parents this weekend." 

She then recounted her life story. 

"So you see," she said to Trish (by this time we were seated in a pub less than a mile from my house), "it's going to be fraught. Allan's made me see I should try to reconcile with them and get it all out in the open."

"He's right," Trish answered as if I wasn't there. "He has good ideas -- sometimes!" 

She glanced at me, smiling. 

"Talking about reconciling, what's the latest on the Ann saga?"

I recounted the meeting's progress the previous night and my worries. Both women became solemn and concerned.

"She's going to be destroyed when she finds she's been living with her husband's murderer," said Jenny.

"I can't imagine how that would feel," said Trish.

"Hold on, you two," I countered. "I didn't die, or didn't you notice I'm still, shall we say, active."

They both laughed. 

"Is he 'active' enough for you?" giggled Trish to Jenny.

"Oh, yes!" Jenny replied, giggling in her turn. "Totally! But I think his skill when he's 'active' is down to you!"

I was getting embarrassed. 

"Hey!" I objected. "I'm still here, you know! And going back to Derek, we don't know he's the guilty party."

"Yet!" said Trish.

"At all," I countered. "We're going to corner O'Malley and get the story out of him, one way or another."

"We know he's guilty as sin," said Jenny. "Don't do anything silly, Allan."

"I think it's obvious Derek is the guilty one," said Trish. "I'd lay you odds on that. He needs stopping. You're not going to let the wedding go ahead, are you?"

"Poor woman!" muttered Jenny.

As if by common consent, the conversation turned to other things, women's things. I might as well not have been there. Some men have fantasies about having two women. That's all they are, fantasies. Sex apart, they natter on and on about clothes and make-up and all sorts of things in which I have not the slightest interest. 

Not that I was going to get any three-in-a-bed sex; neither did I want any. I had a loving relationship with each of these sweet women, now lost to me for the afternoon, and each was different, and separate, and I wanted to keep it that way. Seriously, I was intensely relieved that they got on so well. Trish went to the loo.

"She's gorgeous!" enthused Jenny. "I'm sorry she's going. We could be best friends. You'll miss her terribly when she goes, won't you?"

I nodded. "I've been so lucky to have had her to pull me through, and now you. Both of you are clever, effective women with the biggest of big hearts."

"And the perception to know a perfect man when they see him," said Trish kissing the top of my bald head as she returned and passed me. Then she slid into her place; the 'girls' were sitting side by side opposite me. Good for me!

The afternoon passed quickly, and we went out for dinner after which Jenny left to go home and prepare for her trip. She dropped us off at the house, hugged and kissed me with much enthusiasm as Trish looked on grinning. The women hugged each other and then she was gone.

"Allan," Trish said, "don't let her go. She's just right for you. She's got everything, a loving nature, good looks, highly intelligent, and she worships the ground you walk on!"

"I don't know what I've done to deserve two women with those qualities," I said, smiling lovingly at her.

"And you say all the right things!" she answered. "But we have an appointment. Time's running out and I want my share of you."

So we went straight to bed and made love. A thought crossed my mind at some point as to how Jenny might be feeling, knowing what we were doing. 

It must have shown in my face, for Trish gave an extra squeeze and whispered, "It's all right, Allan darling, she's happy you're happy." 

At times like those you wonder if you're dreaming but don't want to wake up. In real life, I didn't believe her.

------ 

TWENTY

A Good Friday tradition in our house before the unpleasantness, was that I would bake Hot Cross Buns in the morning while listening to the St Matthew Passion by JS Bach. Why I should remember that while forgetting so much more important stuff, I don't know, but I'm glad I did. Furthermore thanks to my foresight (which seemed infinitely superior to my memory, or backsight) and the already fully stocked larder cupboard, I had all the ingredients I needed. I rose early and had got things under way when Trish arrived downstairs, looking dishevelled, as well she might after the previous night's activities.

She said nothing but shambled about the kitchen getting in my way while she made tea and toast. At last she broached the silence.

"Nice smell."

"Trish, you have never tasted Hot Cross Buns until you've tasted home made ones."

"Humph!" she replied. I neither knew or cared whether she was dismissive of my assertion or approving of it. She sat at the table and munched her toast while I ate 'on the hoof'. As I passed behind her I kissed the top of her head.

"You are so beautiful!" I whispered. This time there was a snort of disbelief. 

"It's true." I asserted. Another snort. 

I sighed. "There's no talking to some people in the morning." No reply.

She got up and came across to me where I was knocking down the dough, mixing in the dried fruit and cutting and forming the pieces into buns, She put her arms round my stomach and laid her head on my shoulder, "Love you," she said.

"And I you," I replied, "and I'd demonstrate how much if I weren't at this delicate stage of things." 

She sighed in disappointment. 

"I'm off for a shower," she said, and she was.

Just over an hour later the buns were sugar-washed and on a cooling rack, and I went upstairs. Trish was fast asleep on the bed, wearing a bathrobe. I crept out of the bedroom to the bathroom and took a shower of my own. 

I returned to the bedroom naked and dry and stroked her face until she opened her eyes. Then she opened them wider as she saw my nakedness and my half-erection. She smiled, rolled off the bed and dropping the robe off her shoulders went to hang it up. As she passed the window she stopped, holding the robe in front of her.

"Allan, there's a girl on our drive," she said in surprise. "She's just standing looking at the house." 

A pause. 

"I think she's crying. I'll go and see what's the matter."

She pulled on some tracksuit bottoms and a tee shirt over her naked body. 

"Get dressed and come down," she said. It was more a request for help than an order.

I went to the open window and looked out. Trish was walking towards her. The road was quiet on this bank holiday and I could hear every word. The girl looked familiar.

"Hello. Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean--"

"What's the matter hinny? Are you in trouble?"

"It's all right. It's nothing."

"It's obviously something. Would you like to come in? Have a drink: juice? milk? tea? Come on in and tell me all about it."

And Trish put her arm round the girl and the two came into the house. Where had I seen the girl before? Somewhere in Sale perhaps; was she a checkout girl? I hurriedly (or as hurriedly as I could manage) dressed and descended the stairs quietly. They were in the kitchen. Trish had obviously got her a drink, so I'd missed nothing.

I had reached the bottom of the stairs when they began talking, and what was said froze me to the bottom step.

"So, what's the matter?" asked Trish.

"It's nothing really. I used to live here. My mum said the house had been sold. We moved out when Mum went to live with her boyfriend. I didn't want to go; I love this house. I hoped Dad might come back someday. I wish we knew where he was. I came back for a last look. I hate living where we are, and I hate her boyfriend; he's creepy. I hate it that he and mum are getting married. But... Everything's just as we left it! And you've been making hot cross buns! Dad always did that on Good Friday. That's weird!"

"I'm Trish."

"Greta."

"Well, Greta, my boyfriend wanted this house as soon as he saw it, and he wanted it furnished. It seems your mother wasn't interested in any of the contents so she left it just as it was."

"Is he here?"

"Yes. He's getting dressed, I think. Now, your dad. What happened? Tell me the story."

"He walked out on us. Two years ago. He went on one of his sales meetings and never came back. He's living with another woman somewhere, but no one knows where he is. Mum was totally devastated for ages, and every day she'd say 'perhaps he'll come back'. Then I think she just lost it and got angry and bitter. 

"That was when she started sleeping with Derek. But it's not like it was with Dad. No one laughs any more. Derek doesn't play with the lads, Dad used to play footy with them. He was lots of fun. He used to talk with me and take me for walks. Derek's boring – he just keeps looking at Mum with those adoring eyes. I don't think he knows we're there. 

"I don't think he's very good in bed; Mum used to make a lot of noise with Dad, but it's very quiet now. I used to feel so repulsed and embarrassed when I heard Mum and Dad, but now I miss the noise.

"I can't understand why he did it. Mum and he were so happy. How could he even look at another woman? While we lived here I always thought Dad would come through the door one day. When we moved in with Derek, I think that's when I lost hope. Even if he couldn't face Mum, how could he just leave me and my brothers? How could he? I wish I knew. I miss him so much." 

I heard her begin to cry again.

I felt a real sense of loss. It wasn't just my life and health those thugs had taken; they'd destroyed a whole family, and that family was, like me, still suffering. Somehow that wasn't real before this moment, but now I felt their loss intensely. Greta must not suffer any more. I heard someone get up and I hid round the corner of the stairs in case it was Greta.

"I'll be with you in a minute. I'll just see where he is." Trish came into the hall and saw me. 

"You heard?" she whispered. 

I nodded. I was still in shock. That was my daughter in there, and she was very upset.

"Will you see her? She needs you Allan." 

Again I nodded. I couldn't deny my own daughter. 

"Wait here until get her ready," Trish said, practical as always. "Meeting you will be a shock; it's the last thing she'll expect, but your appearance will be even worse. Trust me, I know what's needed." She turned and went back.

"He'll be here in a minute. Now, you wished for your dad just now?"

"Well, yes. I always longed for him to come home, but there's no hope of that."

"Listen, Greta. I'm afraid you're in for some shocks today."

"What d'you mean?"

"If I told you I could put you in touch with your Dad?"

"What?"

"I mean it. I can put you in touch with your Dad, but there are conditions."

"You sure? You're not joking? You wouldn't joke would you? Anything. I'll agree to anything." 

I could almost see her bouncing in her seat. I smiled and tears started in my eyes.

"First. You must agree most solemnly not to tell anyone else where he is. Not your mother. Not your brothers."

"You know I have brothers?"

"You said your Dad used to play with your brothers. Now will you swear not to tell a soul where he is? He will eventually make himself known, but not yet."

"Yes, yes, I don't understand why, but I'll keep it a secret. Anything to see him again." She was impatient, "Can we go and see him now?"

"Second," Trish said, ignoring her request. "There are things you need to know. I told you, you are in for a number of shocks, some of them are bad."

"OK, OK!" I could hear her impatience growing.

"Here goes then. Your father did not go off with another woman."

"So why--"

"The day he left York and should have come home, he was attacked by a group of yobs who took everything he had, including his clothes. I'm sorry to tell you this, Greta, but they beat him up very badly. No one who saw him admitted to hospital thought he would live. And he only had his underwear on so no one knew who he was. It's taken him this long to remember he even has a family. He didn't know his own name for over a year."

I heard a gasp. "But I'm sure Mum contacted the hospital and there was no one admitted."

"The hospital was in Newcastle. I'm a nurse there. I was there when he was admitted."

"Newcastle? How?"

"No one knows. Your Dad can't remember. But Greta, you have to know he was very badly injured. He still is. Greta, it's his face darling. They kicked his face in; it had to be rebuilt while he was in a coma. You won't know him."

"I will! I'll know him!" 

My heart bled for her.

"OK. My boyfriend can put you in touch with him. I'll get him."

She came into the hall. 

"Off you go," she said with tears in her eyes. 

My eyes were wet. 

"Here," she said, offering me her handkerchief. "Dry your eyes." 

I did and made my way to the kitchen.

I limped in without my stick and walked across to her, holding out my hand. I saw her face register all the usual emotions, shock, horror, pity, and as I spoke, I saw she realised who this hideous man was. 

"Hello Greta," I said.

She took my hand. 

"You're in touch with your Dad now, chicken," I said with a smile, the tears forming in my eyes.

"Daddy!" she shouted, and sprang to her feet, the chair flying backwards as she was instantly round the table and in my arms. 

"Daddy!" she sobbed and sobbed. I could feel her tears on my tee shirt, and my own fell on to her head.

"Now I feel I've come home, darling," I whispered. "How could you think I would ever want to leave you?"

She sobbed uncontrollably; so did I, and we stood like that for an age, my hands stroking her back, while Trish, her own eyes moist, bustled around us making the inevitable British solution to every emotional turmoil, a 'nice cup of tea'.

After a while Greta calmed and I sat down; she sat on my knee with her arm round my neck. It must have looked awkward, a sixteen year old girl on my knee, but we did not care. 

We drank our tea, Trish opposite us and smiling, looking from one to the other. She broke the silence.

"Greta, Your dad had to learn everything from scratch, how to talk; to wash, to eat and drink, then to walk. He's worked and worked at getting as fit as he can be. He forgets things, though his memory has come on by leaps and bounds since he got back to Sale."

Greta looked at me with pride.

"Ugly customer, aren't I?" I quipped.

"You're still the handsomest man I know!" she asserted with a wide smile.

"Liar!" I exclaimed.

"You're my Dad. There's no one better. This is the best day of my life," and she began to tear up again.

"Enough of that! No more tears!" I ordered, more to stop myself from joining her than anything else.

"Er, Dad?" 

"Yes, Chicken?"

"Trish said you're her boyfriend."

"Yes."

"Does that mean...?"

"Yes."

"Don't forget," Trish broke in, "your dad started going with me before he knew he had a wife and family. He needed someone. But it seems he hasn't got a wife any more. Your mum is with someone else, she's moved on."

"Oh," Greta said sadly. "The divorce." Then she brightened, "But now you can come back and talk to Mum."




The Way Back Ch. 05



"No, Greta," I said decisively. "Things have gone too far, and there are other reasons I can't tell you about why I can't contact Mum yet. Remember you promised to keep me a secret?"

She nodded.

"I promise you," I added, "I'll tell you everything as soon as it's safe to do so. There are all sorts of things happening that it's better for you not to know about. But for now..."

"I won't let you down, Dad, but please, let's let the boys know soon. They're not dealing with Derek well; life isn't good at home."

"I promise."

"Now," I said. "It's time you had some hot cross buns,"

Of course Greta broke down crying again, memories of past Good Fridays, I thought, which now could never be repeated. Soon she was eating the buns, and her smile returned.

------

TWENTY-ONE

It was truly a Good Friday. I had got my daughter back, and there started the first of a number of conspiracies. I had to be careful about how much I said to Greta, so I said nothing. Greta wanted to hear the whole story of my admission to hospital, the extent of my injuries, my coma, emergence and rehab. 

She held onto my hand at the kitchen table as if she thought I would disappear again if she let go. Mercifully for my knees and thighs she had vacated my lap for the chair next to me. I let Trish tell her the whole sordid business, which she did in graphic detail.

Once she had got to the place where I came home, she let me take up the story. I told her of the flat, of my return to work. She laughed at Judy fainting, was interested in my new PA, and envious of my trip to Canada. I left out my trip to Sweden. She was an intelligent girl and would make too many connections for her own and Ann's good. 

She looked thoughtful for a while after I had finished with her arrival.

"Dad," she began hesitantly, "if Mum marries him, can I come and live here with you? I think the boys will want to as well."

"Well, I suspect you're old enough to choose. I'm not sure about the boys. Mum has custody and I have access rights at the moment. We would have to discuss that, when the time arrives."

She seemed satisfied and that was effectively the end of the discussion. She took Trish round the house telling her tales from when the family lived here, and I followed, picking up memories as I did so. 

Then a phone rang: Greta's phone. We heard her side of the conversation.

"Hello Mum."

"...I'm with friends." 

"...Yes I know Mum."

"...Mum, it's still morning; stop nagging me." 

"...Look Mum, I'm in Sale. Can you get your head round the idea of picking me up? I'm on your way to Uncle Peter's house." 

"...All right. I'll be outside Sale station at two, OK?" The tone of the 'OK' was insulting.

"...Bye Mother!"

The exchange had all the qualities of teenage speak: exaggerated patience, exasperation at one's parent's stupidity, all wrapped in studied insolence.

"Greta," I said quietly.

"Yes?"

"My memory is patchy. Remind me. Do you remember me ever talking to Mum like you just did?"

"Well... no."

"Do you remember me ever talking to you or the boys sarcastically as you just did?"

"No."

"Don't do it, Chicken. It demeans you."

"Sorry Dad."

"OK Chicken," A hug and it was over. I went out and bought fish and chips; another tradition in the family for Good Friday. The effort was not lost on Greta who looked pensive as we ate. Then it was time for her to go. I drove her to the station and dropped her off. As she climbed out of the car she turned to me.

"Dad, can I come back soon?"

"Of course, Chuck. It's your house too you know. I'll get you a key."

"Sunday?"

"Fine. If you're free."

"Good. And Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for telling me off."

"Pardon?"

"It shows you're my Dad. Derek never tells me off. He's afraid to. Bye!" A kiss and she was off.

I was glad she was my daughter. She was a daughter to be proud of.

Her visit was a Godsend for it allowed my to call at a supermarket and get an egg for Trish and Jenny and another for Greta.

When I returned to the house, Trish was in the garden kneeling at one of the flowerbeds, weeding. It set the tone for the weekend. The weather was fine and the garden needed a lot of attention. 

"Don't you want to do something else?" I asked her.

"No," she replied with a happy smile, "I just want to be in this house with you. I want you to remember me in this garden and in your bed!" she grinned wickedly, "Flowerbeds first, then feather bed after!"

So we spent the rest of the day and the whole of Saturday gardening. In the late evening we curled up together and listened to jazz and I found the time to make a sponge cake for the next day. Then we shared a bath, washed each other with much laughter, and went to bed. We made love gently and attentively, as if we had to remember this time for when we had lost each other. We had been making love for months and there were no surprises, just comfort and reassurance that we loved each other deeply. It was thoroughly satisfying and relaxing, necessary after the muscle aching activities of the day.

On Sunday morning she brought out a huge chocolate egg. "Happy Easter!" she said.

I brought out hers, "Happy Easter Trish." She was shocked.

"How did you remember--"

"I had to come clean. "Saw yours when I brought in your bags."

She was not bothered, but asked if I'd got one for Greta.

Greta arrived in time for lunch on Sunday and we went out to a restaurant and then for a walk. Greta tried to get me to explain why I couldn't talk to Ann. I promised she would be the first to know as soon as the police allowed it, but reiterated the need to keep my presence secret for the time being. She was not happy, but agreed nevertheless. I could see she picked up on my mention of the police, and I assumed this convinced her, but she said nothing. 

We arrived back at the house and I put together a teatime meal of salad, ham, salami and cheese, with scones and the cake. It was comforting but also strange. The three of us fitted well together and we felt like a family. Trish commented on it and Greta agreed. 

Trish said she was glad to have had the experience now she was going. This was news to Greta, who was a little distressed on my behalf. I was touched by her concern, and Trish was about to tell her about Jenny, when I shook my head.

I asked Greta if she would get a DNA test, to prove she was my daughter. She agreed happily and I gave her the address of a clinic David had written down for me. It was the school holidays so she said she would go on Tuesday. I gave her a letter for them to say I would pay for the test.

We drove Greta home, and I got my first look at the huge edifice that was Derek's house. The house in Sale was large but it was small in comparison with this mansion. Greta grunted that it was a barn and she hated it. She hugged Trish after assuring herself that she would see her again before she left for New Zealand, and then hugged me, gave me a sloppy kiss and was gone, sashaying up the drive, with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

"That girl will break hearts," said Trish as we watched her into the house. "What a body!" 

Father's sometimes have to be told such things. It came as a shock to me that my little daughter was nearly a full-grown woman, and I looked at her receding swagger with different eyes. I would have to have a talk with that young woman! I told Trish as much.

"You'll do no such thing!" she exclaimed. "That girl might be sexy but she's got more morals than I ever had, or have, come to that!" 

Once home we sat with our hot drinks and enjoyed some more music. We knew she would have to be off early the next morning. She was on nights for the coming week. 

So in the early morning she went, and I did a little more gardening.

------ 

TWENTY-TWO 

Colin picked me up at eight. The others were already in the car. We had toyed with the idea of going into the pub for a drink, but Keith counselled against it.

"If he leaves early it will be obvious if we all troop out after him. I suspect that if he thinks no one has seen him with us he'll be more likely to talk." 

We had to agree, and remained thirsty. At nine, out came Ted O'Malley. He had to come by our parked car on his walk home. The events that followed resembled a gangster film. Keith opened the front door, stopping him, while opening the back door allowed me to get behind him.

"You again!" he addressed Keith.

"Yes. Get in."

"I don't think so."

Colin had emerged from the other side of the car. "Get in or you'll be in the nick before morning. There are a few things about you I'm sure they'll love to know!" Perhaps it was a bluff, but he fell for it.

I stood back and he got in the back of the car. Colin got in the other side and I followed him. Keith got in the front.

"What's this about?" O'Malley asked sullenly, looking a little fearful.

"You remember our talk?" asked Keith, "Well, now we need names. Who employed you and who were the other three blokes?"

"No way!" he exclaimed, "More than my life's worth."

"Let me put it this way," said Colin, "Sitting to your left is the man you were sent to tail. Take a good look at him."

He looked and shuddered. 

"You led those three to me Mr O'Malley," I growled, "and they were under orders to kill me, obliterate my face and take everything that might identify me. They thought they had succeeded. They hadn't. Now I'm just a tad annoyed that they, and you for leading them to me, have destroyed my life. Now, with the info the police have and what they're going to get, they're going to be knocking on your door. Accessory to attempted murder, how long Colin?"

"Five years?" suggested Colin embellishing the time a little.

"And if you get off, Ted," I continued, "I'll be coming for you. I may look a wreck but I'm very strong, I had to be to survive. How would you like to look like me -- Ted?"

He began to tremble. 

"So," said Colin, "You tell us names, and when the others are arrested we'll make sure the police know that you've been helpful to us."

"But we can guarantee that the others won't know about this conversation," Keith added. "Of course, if you don't talk to us it may get around that you have been shooting your mouth off. So, how about it?"

O'Malley began to look wretched, beads of sweat appeared on his face and reluctantly he nodded.

"Who paid you and how much?" asked Colin.

"I don't know. You've got to believe me. A man approached me. Very tall he was. He promised to pay me well for tailing... you, and he said there would be building contracts for me, if I kept me mouth shut." 

He spoke quietly, he seemed defeated, "I got three thousand quid."

"Did you know the man?"

"No. I think he must be a friend of Derek Fanshaw. I think I saw him in Fanshaw's office a few years ago but I couldn't swear to it. That's what I thought, that it was the same man."

"Why should you think that?" asked Keith.

"Fanshaw is my usual contractor. I work for him most of the time."

"And the others?"

"What others?"

"The three thugs who did this to me," I muttered.

"Craig Wilson, Lee Harper, Gary Grantham. They work for Fanshaw."

"How much did they get?"

"They were gloating over me, said they got ten grand each."

There was a collective gasp and a "Good God!"

"Now their car," said Keith, "The Red Toyota. Registration?"

"MZ 02 QBW, but Craig got rid of it as soon as they got back from Newcastle."

"You knew they went to Newcastle?" Colin pounced. 

"They said they'd 'done the job' there."

"So you knew they'd taken me there," I hissed in his ear, "and you let my wife suffer, knowing that!"

"I don't know your wife. It was just a job for me." 

My hands were clenched and Colin could see. He hurried to speak. 

"Listen, toe-rag, you'll be arrested some time soon, and so will they. Keep your mouth shut and they'll not know you've talked. Tell them about this and you'll go down for years, after we let Allan here have his fun with you. Understand?"

He nodded, the sweat was running down his face.

"OK, get out." spat Keith.

I made room, he got out, and we drove away.

What a strange feeling. After all this time we knew, I knew, who had tried to kill me; who wanted me dead. I didn't care what Fanshaw's motives were, whether he wanted to have my wife, or my money, or both. He was a murderer. It was a strange feeling because until the moment O'Malley said Fanshaw's name, I had felt the quest was almost about someone else. Now it was very personal. 

The man who had stolen my life, my future married life, my wife, my children and who was scheming to get my money and destroy my company, was happily living with my wife, and worse she was living happily with him, blissfully unaware that she was sleeping with the man who had effectively murdered her husband and her previous life. Further he had fawned over her, played the solicitous friend and in all that had lied to her in the most basic way. Now he was planning to marry her.

"The marriage must not happen," I said out loud. 

There had been silence in the car, each of us with our own thoughts, though I suspect they were wondering how to talk to me about it. We were fellow conspirators. Yet now I was alone. After all, it had not happened to them, though their faith in me was vindicated.

"No, it mustn't," said Colin, "All that info goes to the team tomorrow. It won't take long to find the car. It'll have your DNA in it somewhere."

"But Wilson sold it," said David, "It could be anywhere."

"No matter. If it's not been scrapped, we'll find it. Just watch."

We went to the Cross Keys and had a few. Poor Colin had to drink orange juice since he was driving. He dropped everyone off and then took me to the house.

"You're not going to do anything rash are you?" he asked, as I began to get out of the car. "It would be a bad idea to tell Greta."

"Greta hates the man, even more now she's found me again. She won't talk. But I want her to keep me informed about what goes on in the house. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

"Just don't mess up the investigation."

I nodded. I repeated, "I'll be careful. I'm more interested in getting Ann out of Derek's way, but if I can I want him to squirm as well."

"Please don't do anything about Ann until we have the case sewn up. Promise me, Allan!"

"Sorry Colin," I said firmly, "I'm going to try to contact Ann as soon as possible. She's in some danger and I'm damned if I'm going to let her marry that bastard."

"Then can you promise me to keep Derek's guilt out of it until we have the hard evidence?"

I promised I would try, he left and I made myself a simple supper of microwaved stew and some bread. Waste not, want not! After the meal I sat and thought about how I would get at Derek and how I would eventually deal with meeting my own ex-wife, who I hardly knew any more, and against whom I felt deep resentment.

------ 

TWENTY-THREE  Trying to Talk

Jenny arrived at work on Tuesday with a happy but tired face.

"Success?" I asked

"Oh, yes," she answered quietly. "It was harrowing, but we ended up with the air cleared. I'm glad you persuaded me to go."

Jenny found the phone number of the company where Ann worked. I had told her that her fears had been right, and that the evidence pointed to Derek as the one responsible for my condition. She agreed the wedding needed to be stopped if at all possible. 

I phoned. The receptionist asked who I was.

"Allan Jonsson, her ex-husband," I replied. "I need to see her urgently."

There was a long, long pause. Then she came back.

"Mrs Jonsson says she does not wish to speak to you or meet you. Please talk through her solicitor." Connection severed. That was it.

Jenny's face was like thunder.

"Here," she said, "give me the phone."

"Hello," she said when connected, "This is Jonsson's. Could you put me through to Mrs Jonsson." 

"Mr Bucklow's secretary," She waited then handed to phone to me.

"Ann," I spoke hurriedly, "Please don't hang up. I need to see you. It's important."

"How dare you trick me like this. You louse. You disappear for three years and then want to talk to me?" she was shouting, "You've got a nerve. We're divorced. Marry your slut and leave me alone."

"Ann," I begged, "You need to know the true facts--"

"I know them. I've even got pictures. Talk to my solicitor." She disconnected.

Jenny made me some tea. I needed it. I was irate. I was seething, but there was no point in trying again. I would have to see what David could do about arranging a meeting.

After work I called at the Police Station and gave a sample for a DNA test. Then I went to the gym and worked off my anger until I was exhausted. I was only home a few minutes when Greta rang.

"Dad, did you ring Mum today?"

"Yes," I answered in a monotone.

"Well it made teatime interesting," she laughed. "Mum was ballistic. She told Derek he'd never guess what happened and then launched into this tirade against you. It went on and on. 

"But the interesting thing was Derek's face. He definitely didn't believe it and when Mum paused for breath he said so. It was a hoax call he reckoned. But Mum floored him by saying that you wanted to meet her. 

"He suggested she did just that, if it was you, you could negotiate, if not she'd have called this person's bluff. He reckoned David had organised it because of the court case over the money, what is it called, alimony?"

"Something like that," I replied.

"Anyway, she said there was no way she was going to meet you, after all you did to her. Then he said it might get her the money quicker if she did talk. She hit the roof! She wasn't interested in the money; it was all he ever talked about. He said she was being stupid. I left at that point and so did the boys."

"Well thanks for letting me know, Chicken," I said, without enthusiasm, "You'll remember your promise won't you? I've got to work this out for myself and soon I'll be able to tell you the whole story."

"Oh, by the way," she said by way of conclusion, "I got the test done; they're sending the results directly to you."

We signed off with expressions of mutual love, and I sat a while and thought.

Why was she so angry? OK, so she thought I'd left her but that was two years ago and now she had another man in her life. There seemed to be hatred in her attitude. Surely after twenty years together and my offer to explain, she would want an explanation? I had no answers to those questions, they resided in Ann's own mind, not mine. The thing I couldn't work out was how to get through to her.

Now, there are times in life when we look back on certain crucial actions of ours, and when we do, the interrogative we use most is 'why'. We know 'what' we did but often seek reasons -- the 'why'. 

Why didn't I march round to her offices and confront her? I still don't know. I know I was deeply resentful and angry at her attitude and the fact she did not search for me longer than she did. Now I was incensed at her unreasonable refusal to speak to me. I can be obstinate; very obstinate. Witness my obsession with getting better. I often wonder if I was so pig-headed before the attack; brain damage can often change behaviour.

However, there was little time in the next few days to dwell on the matter. On Friday Jenny and I were to fly to Hamburg for a meeting on Saturday with a client. It was a complicated brief and he wanted to talk to us and then work towards a contract on the Monday. We had much preparation to do; meetings with Geoff and with one of our best technicians, preparation of a presentation, the usual things. 

We had so much work on at the time that there would be a delay in producing what he wanted beyond a prototype, and I was sure this might be a break point. Jenny was already putting out feelers to a number of companies that could do the fabrication, to sub-contract the work if necessary, but obviously this was to be a last resort. 




The Way Back Ch. 05



Two events were relayed to me by Colin, and I did one thing that my daughter thought was really stupid.

On Wednesday, Colin rang in the evening to tell me the car had been found. It was being driven by a lad with no insurance, and as such had been confiscated. Normally it would be crushed, but some observant copper had noted the registration number and forensic took over. Keith was away somewhere so the 'four' did not meet.

Also on Wednesday I was told by Viv that it was my wedding anniversary on Friday, so I hit on the idea of sending Ann a card. It did not say "Happy Anniversary"! It said "On Your Anniversary" and the inside was blank. I summoned up all my strength, writing was a painful exercise for me -- and wrote:

On the anniversary of our marriage Thank you for so many happy years I wish you happiness with your new partner Please reconsider seeing me I have an explanation for my disappearance you do not know the true story.

Allan.

On Thursday, Colin rang to say that Derek's accounts had been taken and were being examined. He hastened to say that Derek thought the police were acting for the Inland Revenue and they did not enlighten him.

Friday the DNA results for Greta came through. I had sent mine to the same company by post, and the report asserted in their legalistic way that Greta was indeed my daughter. 

Jenny and I were taking an evening flight to Hamburg, and Greta caught me on the phone as I was awaiting the taxi.

"Hey, Dad," she bubbled. "Nice one!"

"Pardon?"

"The card!" she almost shouted. "Mum went ballistic! She ranted on to Derek about knowing all there was to know about your infidelity, and would see to it you suffered for 'this campaign' as she put it. 

"Derek pointed out that the writing did not look like yours, and that stopped her for a minute. She put it down to 'another of your tricks' to arouse her curiosity. Well, she said, it was not going to work. Dad she's even more resolved not to see you or talk to you now."

"Oh." I must have sounded disappointed for her reaction was one of total surprise.

"Good God Dad," she said quite seriously, "surely you didn't think sending a card would help did you? I thought you were pushing her buttons! You are thick sometimes Dad!"

"I think I must be," I replied.

The trip was not a success apart from very pleasant Sunday seeing Hamburg and sampling the food stalls along the waterside -- that, and making love with Jenny each night, and a 'quickie' on Monday morning. She had surprised me telling me she had started on the Pill, and had been fitted with a Cap until she was safe, which allowed us more freedom and spontaneity. 

The bottom line was that ours was a superior product, but they didn't want us to sub-contract and the time delay was too long. The penalty of success; my company had too much work on. We needed to expand and I resolved to discuss this with Geoff when we returned. Jenny was depressed and I was morose on Monday night. We hugged briefly and went to sleep.

No sooner was I back in the office on Tuesday after a bumpy flight back than I got a call from David.

"You know the court hearing is Thursday?" he began without preamble. I had in fact forgotten.

"I thought you were handling that," I said rather tersely.

"Bad trip?" he divined.

"Couldn't have been worse."

"Anyway," he moved on swiftly, "it may come to it that you have to prove who you are and to do that you'll need to be present. Just in case, you understand."

"Right," I replied. "That raises two points. First, I've phoned and written to Ann and she has utterly refused to see me. I'm not happy, and I have no intention of meeting her without her agreement. She's insisting everything is done through you and her solicitor. I want you to ask her for a meeting on my behalf, preferably before the court date. 

"Second, OK, I will be in court, but as a spectator unless absolutely necessary. I don't want to meet her under those circumstances if I can avoid it."

"OK," he replied in a resigned tone. "I'll talk to her."

"No mention of my attack though, David. She has to meet me still believing I've left her. I want the pleasure of seeing her face when she realises the truth. Oh, and under no circumstances is Derek to be there when we do meet."

"Understood."

It appeared that he tried. He was back to me in less than an hour.

"Sorry, old son," he sympathised, "your ex. is feeling vindictive and vengeful. I don't know what you put in your letter but, let's put it delicately, she didn't like it. I tried everything, I said she'd get a better deal from you if she saw you. No she'd let the court decide. I put it to her that she would probably get less than she gets at the moment. She didn't care. I tried that you had information that would change her mind about you. Not interested."

"OK. Let's do the court thing and then try her again. If what you say is true and she gets off badly, she may be more amenable to a bit of generosity from me."

"I think that would stick in her throat, but Derek might convince her, after all, he's the one needing as much cash as possible."

"We'll see."

Geoff and I spent all day Wednesday discussing the need to expand further. We decided it was necessary and would need our own cash; the banks weren't interested. I phoned David and told him of the plans and he noted down the relevant figures. He complained that it was short notice but needed to be put before the judge for the next day's hearing.

I acquainted him with the reasons, primarily the failure of our trip to Germany, which he seemed to think might sway the judge. We said 'au revoir' until the next day. He also said he had put before the judge the police interest in Ann's partner, asking for a delay in the hearing. This was denied.

------ 

TWENTY-FOUR 

So the next day I was there in court. My ex-wife was obviously intent on paying her absent ex-husband back in some way for his desertion and for causing her so much suffering. I assumed she also wanted to help the man she felt had stood by her, though not enough to forgo her revenge. I could put an end to it all but I wasn't going to. I had Colin to consider.

We were there early and I was seated at the back of the visitors' seats. Derek, Ann, his solicitor and their barrister arrived. The couple noticed my presence and It was clear they were trying to work out why I was there. I smiled my lop-sided smile at Ann but she did not return it. I felt a frisson of annoyance. I had never insulted her; I had been courteous to her, and she was cutting me. It strengthened my resolve to reveal myself to her in my own way, and in my own time.

There were a number of legal statements and procedures. There followed arguments from the barristers on each side, most of which I couldn't follow. The assets of each party were already before the judge, and had to be outlined and argued for by them. 

Ann's barrister began since Ann was the plaintiff. I gathered that what Ann wanted was over half my savings, and the current amount I was paying to her and the children every month. I owned about six million pounds in various portfolios. She wanted four, three for her since she had supported me for twenty years and one million for the children to be placed in trust for them.

What I did understand clearly, and it put me on edge, was the next submission. The barrister, a woman with a crisp and quiet delivery, argued that Ann should have a half share in my ownership of the company. This would amount to forty per cent of the profits. Since it was a limited company she would have a vote on the company's policies.

'My' barrister simply checked the assets with the judge and only added that the company needed my money to expand. It would mean more people employed, and ultimately more profit for Ann if she had a share in the company though some of my millions would be needed for the expansion. He reminded him of my past history of reinvestment.

There followed a recess for two hours. David, the barrister and I went for a pint. The barrister said that the judge was likely, on past showing, to be favourable to our case. He thought we would come out of it well.

He was right.

It took some time for the judge to deliver the judgement, but I was able to follow most of it. 

He noted that the house was already sold and all the proceeds given to Ann; that this was more than generous. Since I had bought the house, I had effectively given her the proceeds for my half of the house and had bought her out. This brought about some consternation in Ann's camp. She was angry, and Derek was confused. Until that moment Ann had not realised that I had 'bought' the house.

He then stated that Ann was now in a new relationship and had a large income of her own from her work. He therefore made no order for me to pay her any maintenance, but assessed my contribution to the children's maintenance at about a third of what I was paying her for them. He noted also that I had been paying well over the odds for the past two and a half years. He reminded her that should the children decide to live with me at any stage, the maintenance paid to her would cease, but would then be recoverable from her.

She was entitled to a share in the business. I should transfer 30% of my share to her. I knew that as a limited company she could only sell the shares to me or to Geoff. She would get dividends, but could not realise the assets. She would get a 24% of the shares; I would have 56% and Geoff 20%. 

Since her share of the dividends would only increase if the company grew, he said he would allow me to invest my assets to expand the firm before dividing the remainder 50-50 with her.

There was consternation in Ann's camp. Well, I thought, David did warn her. 

But the judge had not finished. 

"It appears," said the judge, "that there are police investigations concerning Mr Jonsson. I therefore direct that while Mr Jonsson must pay maintenance for the children effective immediately, the rest of the judgement will be held in abeyance until those matters are resolved. I accordingly adjourn these proceedings sine die."

So Ann and Derek were to get nothing until the trial of those who attacked me was concluded. There was a good deal of angry discussion between Ann and Derek and their lawyers.

I cannot deny I felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the outcome. No, I was elated. Now perhaps she would agree to see me.

I think it took a lot of self-control on David's part not to rush over and congratulate me, but he resisted the temptation and kept it until we met in the pub afterwards.

"I can't believe the judge did that!" enthused David. 

The barrister looked smug, "I told you he would give us a good deal," he said. "Judges have more or less infinite discretion when they adjudicate ancillary relief. Our man is scrupulously fair. I think he saw an element of greed in your ex-wife's petition. I won't say he punished her deliberately, but it's certainly turned out that way."

That evening I was at home recovering from another bout of physio when Greta rang.

"Dad, things are very quiet at home. I've got out for a while. They are going round in circles talking about the court case this morning. Derek is trying not to tell Mum 'I told you so', but that's what he's thinking. Mum looks really sad. Is it right they've lost the case?"

"Well, Chicken, it's not really winning and losing; they just didn't get what they wanted."

"Listen Dad. Mum and Derek were talking about the case, and they were talking about you being back. Derek thinks you're an impostor and the police are going to get you and Mr Lombard for fraud, but Mum isn't so sure. The problem is the boys heard them. They're wondering why you haven't seen them. They're upset Dad."

She paused.

"Can I bring them over?"

"Yes, you'd better. Tomorrow?"

"I'll bring them after tea."

"Greta, you need to prepare them for what I look like. Do it on the way, not at home, and get them to promise to keep quiet about the visit. Things are getting close to a conclusion here. I'll tell you everything I know the next time you come alone."

"Ok Dad." She sounded upbeat. "See you tomorrow."

I was intrigued by Derek's interpretation of the judge's remarks. He obviously believed me to be dead and gone. Boy was he in for a surprise! Still, it kept his attention from the fact that the police were looking at him. However it had been dawning on me that Greta deserved to know as much as I did. I hoped she would be able to cope with the knowledge.

The next day was Friday and Jenny was due to come for the weekend, but when she heard the boys were coming over, she volunteered to stay at home and wait until they had gone home before arriving.

"They'll have enough on their plate dealing with the new you," she said, laughing, "without coping with your girlfriend, and come to think of it, Greta would need to get used to you having two girlfriends! Though come to think about it again, I reckon she'd be impressed!"

I told her I doubted that but thanked her for her thoughtfulness.

I visited the gym on the way home. I know I go on about physio and the gym, but it was essential to my general improvement. My body was hardening and muscles and tendons were tightening. It was hard work and dominated my life at the time. Personally I think it was also responsible for my improving mental acuity, and my memory.

I had finished showering, and had made some of Jan's favourite biscuits (cookies) when the doorbell rang. When I opened the door I knew them. They were so much older and taller than I expected. Jan looked at me and his lip trembled. Stefan grabbed Greta's hand and looked fearful. It seemed a long time we all stood there on the doorstep but it was probably only a few seconds.

"Come in boys," I said, standing back and allowing Greta to lead the boys to the living room. They had different ideas. They were off running and up the stairs to their rooms. We could hear their exclamations as they found things they had left behind, and their posters still on the walls. Greta looked exasperated.

"They're boys Greta," I chided her, "Give them time."

They clattered down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Biscuits Stef!" cried Jan. "Dad's made biscuits!"

We followed them into the room. Jan fell upon them and Stefan was close behind. Greta and I smiled at each other. The ice was broken. They were at home.

"Sit down, lads," I said, and they sat down where they were at the table. They were not going to leave the plate of biscuits! I took the chair opposite them and Greta sat next to me after giving them each a glass of milk from the fridge.

"I remember these biscuits, Dad," said Stefan shyly.

I smiled and Jan choked on his milk. I raised an eyebrow, or rather I raised what used to be an eyebrow. The effect must have been even more comical for both boys collapsed with laughter. Greta bristled, and I laid my hand on hers.

"Dad, you look so funny when you smile," Jan was still laughing. "Sort of lop-sided!"

"I'm glad you find me amusing." I smiled.

"Did it hurt when the men hit you?" asked Stefan, gaining confidence.

"Sorry, Stefan," I replied. "I can't remember anything about being attacked."

"Greta said you were in a coma for nearly a year," added Jan.

So the talking went on about my recovery, and the boys were thoroughly relaxed. They almost looked proud of their battered Dad, but eventually the hard questions started.

"Now you're back Dad," began Stefan, "are you coming back to Mum soon?"

"Stefan it's not as easy as that," I told him. "Mum is with someone else now. We are divorced and she is marrying him next week. So I don't think it's likely, do you?"

"But when she sees you she'll be so sorry and she'll call off the wedding and then you'll both be able to marry." His logic was impeccable for a ten year old.

"I wish it were so easy, Chicken," I replied, trying my hardest to find a way to let him down gently. "It's been two years and she loves Derek now."

"But he's so boring!" exploded Jan, who had been getting more and more frustrated with my answers. "You've no idea Dad. He never does anything with us. He just stares at Mum all the time. Makes me sick!" He made a retching noise and the other two laughed.

"It's true Dad," said Greta. "I'm sure Mum isn't totally happy. I think she's marrying him because he's the best she can find. She doesn't sing as she goes round the house like she used to."

"And you and Mum used to laugh a lot," Stefan added.

"And you used to tickle each other, and you were always joking. Honestly it's so dull!" said Jan.

It saddened me to hear that. The picture of a dull humourless family hurt. I did remember our play fights, and the games in the garden.

"And," added Greta, "He never does a tap round the house. You used to cook and bake, and clean and iron stuff. You shared the jobs with Mum. He comes in and flakes in an armchair. Mum has to do everything, and go out to work. I help though."

"Dad?" Jan said before I could comment.

"Yes Jan?"

"If Mum marries Fanny--"

"Fanny?"

"It's what we call him," grinned Stefan. Greta gave an embarrassed smile as well.

"Go on Jan," I said, not wanting to comment.

"If she marries him I want to come and live with you."

There, it was out.

"So do I!" echoed Stefan. "Can we?"

Once again I was caught. 

I was still thinking of a suitable reply when Greta added something worrying. 

"I'd like to join you too Dad," and then under her breath, "I don't like how he looks at me."

I pretended not to hear the latter though it frightened me. At some stage I would have to follow that up.

"Kids," I said, "as far as I am concerned, you can come and live here and welcome, but don't you think that's rather hard on Mum? She loves you, you know; and we would have to get the arrangements changed. Mum has custody of you three, and I only have access rights. That would have to be reversed, and Mum probably won't agree."

There was a sullen silence. 

"Sorry," I added. "I didn't make the rules."

"Please Dad," said Greta. "Please talk to Mum. She's going to marry him next week. I'm sure she would change her mind if she could talk to you. That marriage is all wrong."

Silently I agreed. When she knew the rest, she would know exactly how wrong it was, but now was not the time.

It was time, however, to talk tactics with my children. I explained to the boys that there were things afoot that their mother shouldn't know about and I couldn't risk them blurting out. They would know fairly soon. I explained that I had tried to see her but she had refused. 

"She is very angry with me," I told them, "because of what she thinks I've done, but I can't tell her the whole story because it would ruin some investigations the police are doing. I'll make one more attempt and after that I'll have to surprise her, once I know what the police are going to do."

"Derek thought the police were investigating Uncle David," said Jan.

"Well, they aren't," I replied, "but I really can't tell you any more."

"Can we tell her we've seen you?" asked Greta. "She may want to see you if she thinks you're going to take us away from her."

I had not thought of that. There was a risk they'd say too much. If Derek knew that I was badly injured he'd be alerted, and he in turn may well alert the thugs who attacked me.

I decided to risk it. 

"OK," I said, "you can tell her we've met, but there have to be rules. Lads, these rules are incredibly important. One slip and you could ruin everything. Don't let me down."

"We won't Dad," they asserted. I hoped they could honour that promise.

"Rule One," I said. "No mention of what I look like. I am well and fit; that's all she needs to know. She knows where I live. She must not know about my injuries. D'you understand?"




The Way Back Ch. 05



They nodded.

"Rule Two. No mention of the attack on me. You can tell her to talk to me if she wants to know what really happened to make me leave her. You can deny I went off with someone else. I didn't. You can tell her I can prove that I didn't. So she mustn't know I've been attacked. Yes?"

They nodded. 

"Rule Three. Do not give her any information she doesn't ask for. Answer questions. Don't volunteer. Understood?"

They nodded.

"If she asks if I am with another woman at the moment boys, you don't know that. Greta does. Refer Mum to Greta. But you can see, there's no one living here with me at the moment.

"Please boys," I pleaded, "don't let me down on this. You could destroy a lot of good work the police are doing finding out who did this to me. OK?"

For the first time since they arrived, Jan came round the table and hugged me. I was touched. It was not easy for a teenager to do. Stefan took that as permission and came round and sat on my knee, his arm round my neck. I blinked back the tears. Greta's eyes were watering. We were a family again, fractured, but a family.

It was time for them to go. As they left they hugged me and Greta kissed my cheek.

"Greta," I whispered. "Come back soon. Things to tell you."

She nodded and smiled and they were gone.



The Way Back Ch. 06



brief (legal)=barrister (Attorney); CPS=Crown Prosecution Service

corpse= breaking into inappropriate laughter I think the American is blooper?

Boot (of car)= trunk

TWENTY-FIVE

I again thought over whether I was doing the right thing. I kept coming back to the idea that perhaps it would have been better to stay clear of Ann and let her get on with her life without me. She would easily find someone else and judging by her performance with Derek, and would in all probability be in a new man's bed in double quick time.

I reprimanded myself. Though I resented her actions, she had waited a year and it seemed had rejected Derek's gentle advances for a while before that. I couldn't see her getting over my ugliness. I didn't enjoy living with a face like mine, nor a scarred and damaged body like mine either. OK, so my sexual equipment worked (I proved it by hand many times, just to be sure, you understand, and was more than assured so by Tricia and Jenny), my voice was unimpaired though the tone had changed, and strangely, in a face almost totally reconstructed, my lips were untouched. Nevertheless I knew I would repulse her. Neither could I live with her pity. I just couldn't see a relationship between us working out.

Further there was her lack of belief in me. She was only too eager to believe everything that rat told her. No. I couldn't see us getting together, but she would know Derek for what he was before he went to prison.

I felt a wave of utter depression sweep over me. I felt hopeless and dreaded a life lived alone. What woman would want a hideous cripple? I couldn't inflict myself on Jenny; she deserved a better man. I broke down and cried.

My descent into self-pity was halted by the phone. It was Jenny. 

"Are you ready for me?" she asked and I realised that time had passed and it was late. 

"Yes," I said, though my voice betrayed me.

"I'll be there in minutes."

She was. She enfolded me in her arms and I broke down again, so she took me to bed and I fell asleep being comforted by her warm breasts and stroking hands.

We spent the weekend alone, together. I had half expected Greta to come back but there was no contact from her. I wondered what had transpired at the house.

Like Trish, Jenny knew how to lift my spirits. She did all that in bed and in the shower and back in bed again, but she also took me on long walks and listened to me repeating myself about what had and hadn't happened particularly the refusal of Ann to talk directly to me.

I was telling Jenny that I was almost certain I should let David tell her when she once again hit the nail on the head.

"If you're going to get someone else to tell her the best person would be Trish. She was personally involved with you from when you were admitted. Why don't you phone her?"

I admired her insight and told her so.

"That's why I'm your PA, and your concubine!"

"Concubine! I like the sound of that." 

Off we went to bed again.

Afterwards she made an addition.

"Why don't you text Greta and see if there's a pre-wedding party, a hen night? Ann's defences would be down if Trish crashed that!"

"I'm glad I've got you to think for me," I said with admiration.

She smiled contentedly.

"You keep me coming and I'll think some more!" she said, comfortably opening her legs wide.

She came again twice, and 'thought' I should get the phoning done. I phoned Trish and texted Greta.

Trish said she would get time off and come over when needed.

Greta texted back.

Grounded 4 taking boys away. 

Mum's family and friends @ George pub 

Thurs. 7.30. 

Luv U.

I phoned Trish back and she said she would arrive Thursday lunchtime but would need to drive back early Friday. I thanked her profusely for doing again what she had been doing for me since I was brought into the hospital.

On Monday David rang to say he had made another attempt to get a meeting between Ann and me but had been firmly rebuffed. Jenny stayed over on Tuesday night which was comforting, and she joined 'the four' at the Cross Keys on Wednesday.

I got the drinks in and sat down.

"Your DNA was found in the car," said Colin, "though I'm not sure I should be telling you that. There will be arrests soon."

"Do you know when?" I asked, thinking about Ann's wedding.

"Now I know I can't tell you that," said Colin seriously, "but when it happens all the protagonists will be arrested at the same time and sent to separate stations. The lads'll have to get all their ducks in a row before they move on the naughty boys."

"From past experience," said Keith helpfully, "It is unlikely to be this week. Not at the weekend, it will need too many personnel for the budget to stand overtime. Monday or Tuesday at the earliest."

"So the wedding will go ahead," I said sadly, "and Ann will lose Derek as soon as she gets him. Have you considered they may go away on honeymoon? If Derek goes to Spain, he may never return!"

"He'll be watched I'm sure," said Colin. "They won't let him leave the country. I'm sure of that as well."

"I tried to get Ann to meet you, once again," said David. "No luck. I can't believe how obstinate she is."

"I can," I said laughing. "One of my memories is having arguments with her, nothing serious, but she's hard to move once she's made up her mind. Trish is coming over tomorrow and we're going to gatecrash her pre-wedding party. She'll talk to me tomorrow." 

"So," said Jenny, speaking for the first time. "It will all come together in the next few days. It'll be a relief for you Allan."

The others nodded their agreement.

"Mind you," said Colin, "while I'm sure O'Malley and the other three will definitely be found guilty, it's by no means certain that we'll be able to nail Derek. With a good brief he might wriggle out of it."

David added: "I'll bet that the three lads will be remanded in custody, but Derek will get bail. O'Malley's fate will depend on whether he shops the others or not."

"Could be six months before the trial as well," said Colin. "The Magistrates will remand them for trial at the Crown Court but there is a waiting list for trials."

"I think you have to resign yourself to the fact that Derek might be able to convince Ann that he's totally innocent of any involvement," said David. "We know he's an accomplished liar."

The meeting descended into a morose silence. We might have known the facts clearly but court cases are never so predictable. Nothing was certain.

I began to feel angry that he might get away with trying to murder me. I resolved there and then that he would not escape scot-free. If the courts couldn't deliver justice, I would find a way. It must have shown on my face.

"Don't cross bridges until you reach them," admonished David. "You don't know what Ann's reaction will be. She's about to learn that Derek's not all that honest but she's always known you are truthful. Please wait and see, Allan."

As usual he was talking sense, I nodded, and Jenny squeezed my arm. Eyebrows were raised; I ignored them.

Jenny decided to go back to her flat. She had a sense of distinguishing herself from Trish, as if to say that I had two totally separate sexual relationships and that there needed to be distance between them. I thought I could understand that.

"I won't expect you at work tomorrow," she said. "Get things sorted with Trish. You'll need to be certain what she's going to say."

When Trish arrived it was mid-afternoon. We went over what she would do, or rather Trish told me how she would do it and I immediately saw she was right. Is there any other way?

Trish and I entered the pub at eight. It wasn't difficult to find the party; for one thing Greta was in the group. There were fifteen people taking up the tables on one side of the main lounge. 

I could see Ann's parents, her brother and sister. Yes, I recognised them; remembered them. The rest must have been other relatives and friends. We had entered the pub via an adjoining room out of a direct line of sight by Ann. 

Originally each room had a door, but these had long since gone and each room was thus open to the next through a doorway. Trish steered me to a table in that empty room, round the corner and out of sight from the group. 

"You'll hear everything from here. I think Ann will come and see you when I've finished with her. You want me to go through with this?"

"Yes. She's got to know the whole thing. I can't have her marrying Derek in ignorance of the true facts. You've got the photos?"

"Yes, and believe me, Allan, I'm looking forward to this."

She got up and left. There was a mirror on a far wall and I could see her at the table. 

"Mrs Jonsson?" I heard her say.

"Yes?" There was Ann's voice again, triggering my emotions of anger and resentment.

"I'm sorry to butt in on your party, but this is very important. I'm here on behalf of your ex-husband. He needs to see you. He wants you to know--"

"Not interested. Tell that bastard that he's done enough damage. and he's got a nerve trying to mess with my head just before the wedding. I've got a solicitor, tell him to talk to him."

"Mrs. Jonsson, please. It really is in your own interest to talk directly to him."

"Just leave us alone, Miss-- "

"O'Toole."

"Mother!" it was Greta. "Why are you being so unreasonable? Perhaps Miss O'Toole can tell you what he wants to say."

"OK," said Ann, her voice dripping with patience and resignation. "Miss O'Toole. Say what you have to say." 

The party went quiet. Everyone was listening.

"May I sit down?" I assumed the answer was yes, for Trish was masking Ann where she stood.

"I have some photographs. Some of them you have seen. Here." 

I could see her taking out the photos. She laid them on the table one at a time.

"I've seen them before," said Ann with exaggerated patience. "It's him and his other woman."

"At the hotel. Yes, I know. Look at the date and time. And this one in the restaurant, five minutes later. This is the day he disappeared."

"Yes, Yes," Ann was getting testy. "And that one is them kissing in the foyer and that one is them buying their tickets. So what?"

"Before I show you the next one, look at these two again. See that man? Do you know him?"

"He looks familiar."

"Yes. Now this one, note the date and the time, three minutes after the last one."

"But..." 

I smiled, now there was uncertainty. 

Ann was now nonplussed, "I've never seen this one before."

"The other man in the photo with your ex and the woman: it's the woman's husband. The woman is actually Allan's Swedish cousin. They met by accident in the hotel. Allan was buying tickets for both of them. The husband had to see a client at the last minute and she couldn't book the tickets, so Allan bought them for her. Now this one."

"That's Allan leaving the station with that man. But--"

"Mrs Jonsson. You notice he's not with a woman. Now do you see why you should talk to him."

"He's still left us without any notice. So there must have been another woman. I've got a letter from him saying he had started a new life with a woman and to forget him."

That was news to me, but Trish was talking.

"Yes, he didn't get in touch. I have another photograph. It's very unpleasant. You'd better steel yourself."

There was a silence. Then, "That's revolting. Who is that? He's got no face left. He's a mass of bruises. What's this got to do with--"

"First will you note the time and date? Same day, four hours later?"

"Yes, but I don't--"

"That's your ex-husband Mrs Jonsson."

There was a strangled cry and a commotion from the whole group.

"No, no. you've got it wrong. Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to you for you to play such a sick joke? Get out!"

"Mrs. Jonsson--"

"Just get out! Get out!"

There were other shouts; things were getting nasty. Then Greta could be heard shouting above the din: "DNA!"

"What?" Ann's voice again in the silence that followed.

"DNA evidence, Mum. It's true. It's Daddy." Silence fell again.

"But how..?"

"We needed proof he was really Daddy, so I took a DNA test. He is my father!"

"But, I don't follow? I tried the hospital."

"This was Newcastle General, I'm a nurse. I was on the team that admitted him."

"Newcastle? But he was in York."

"Mrs. Jonsson. Will you now see your ex-husband?"

Silence. Then a quiet, "Yes. Of course."

There was the sound of chairs moving and then they came round the corner. I was seated on the bench seat which ran along the wall. 

"Hello Ann. You're certainly difficult to talk to."

I saw the realisation begin to dawn. First there was the searching. The voice was familiar, then understanding, then horror at my condition, than anger again. The anger won.

"Allan? It's you isn't it?"

"Yes."

"You saw me at that restaurant and said nothing. Then you danced with me at the Dinner, for pity's sake, and you still said nothing. Why are you playing games with me?"

"Sit down Ann," I said sharply.

She looked surprised at my cold tone, but sat.

"I'll tell you and then you can leave. I'm sure you don't want to be repulsed by my face for longer than absolutely necessary."

She opened and closed her mouth but I began to talk before she could say anything.

"I will tell you everything I know. Most of the early part I have no memory of. Trish here told me. I still have no memory of the day I ended up in hospital in Newcastle. 

"I was taken to the hospital. You have some idea how extensive my injuries were, are? My head had been stamped on and my skull was fractured. My face was smashed, most of my teeth gone, nose a pulp, jaw and cheeks broken, and that was only my head. Three ribs, and one shin and the other thighbone broken, both ankles the same. Internal injuries I won't go into. My windpipe escaped. My wedding tackle was bruised but recovered. I am a mass of plates, pins and screws.

"My attackers had stripped me down to my underpants, took all my property and as a result of their ministrations my face as you see is unrecognisable even now. There was no way to identify me.

"My injuries were so bad the medics agreed the intention had been to kill me, and that I would die eventually. I was in a coma, and I remained in a coma at some level for nearly a year. I could hardly have told you where I was, then, could I? 

"You said something about a letter. How could I write a letter if I was comatose?

"Before I came round, the doctors decided I was not going to recover; I had been unconscious so long. But there were no relatives, no wife, to give permission to turn off the life support. They had to go to court to get permission. When they eventually got permission and cut the support, I carried on breathing. 

"Then came long months of rehabilitation. I was a rare case, I had no memories at all, not even my name, a condition almost unheard of. I had to learn to speak though my new face made me difficult to understand. The pain was intense and the struggle was long. The medics and the police thought I was lying about my memory; I must have something to hide, probably drugs were the reason I was beaten up. You've no idea how many hours I spent being interrogated. Eventually they had to believe me.

"You understand I have been told most of this, my short term memory is still ropey, though my long term memory is returning well since I came back.

"I think it was January I remembered my name, and I got a conviction that I lived in Sale. Trish brought me here and looked up the electoral roles for Sale. She found out where I lived and that I was married to you and had a daughter called Greta. We were walking through Sale and I recognised David's name on the plate outside his door.

"Since then, with the help of friends and especially David, I have pieced together memories and evidence, about my attackers and the conspiracy to kill me." 

Ann had calmed down. She had flinched at my description. Was that love in her eyes or merely pity? I could not tell. Her voice was now soft.

"Why didn't you come to me when you knew who I was?"

"I didn't know you."

She stared in surprise.

"I had no memory of you," I continued, "I had to be told who you were when you came into the restaurant. But after you came over and spoke, and I smelled your perfume, the one I bought you, it seemed to kick-start the memories; they flooded over me and were overpowering. I couldn't cope with them, that's why I left the restaurant."

"I don't know what to say," there were tears in her eyes, "When I think of you all alone all that time... and I was..." 

That was enough for her, she began to weep quietly. I was sad for her but that was all. I tried to help but probably made it worse.

"I wasn't lonely Ann. I didn't know anything about anything. One of the nurses took a shine to me and would spend time with me out of hours. As you can guess, it was Trish O'Toole. So don't worry on that score.

"In fact I am in a relationship with her. I had no memory of you or anyone here. Trish was my world. She told me to come here and sort out my life. That's why she's here now." 

"She's your girlfriend?" she said, wiping her eyes.

Trish had been silent up to now, and I don't think we knew she was there, even though she was sitting with us. But now: "One of them. He's got another one as well."

Ann ignored the remark though it was clear it had gone home. 

"But, you knew me at the dance, and you said nothing."

"There is a reason for that. The police asked me to keep my identity secret until they make their arrests. They've got some folk lined up who they think did this. It's people living here. But I have been trying to talk to you. For three weeks I've been trying. You could have known long ago."

"But I'm your wife!"

At that moment I became angry. 

"No!" I spat, "You are not my wife. You divorced me remember? You are trying to ruin my company for your own selfish gain, even though I've seen you right through David, and generously so. 

"How long did you actually try to find me? Don't bother to answer, I already know. If you had gone missing I'd still be looking for you, you know that! 

"Everyone said my disappearance was totally out of character, they didn't believe that I'd gone off with someone else, but you did, right away! You believed Derek. You'd loved me for twenty years, yet you believed him. So don't start telling me you're my wife!"

I got up and left. Trish ran after me. We got in the car, she drove. 

"Satisfied?" she asked bitterly.

"No," I replied. "She needed to be told. I told her. She knows now that she's shacked up with Derek on the basis of a lie. She realises she's divorced an innocent man, a man who loved her. I've not told her Derek might be my murderer. I've got a new life with two lovely women. I don't need her any more. She let me down."

"OK," she knew better than to argue, but she loved me that night, holding me tight, pressing herself against me as we went to sleep afterwards.

As I drifted off I thought of Ann. I knew she had stood with me for many years, and that we had been in love. I knew I owed her something. However, the last two years and her behaviour, coupled with my previous lack of any personal coherent memory made it impossible for us to take up our relationship, precisely because it no longer existed. It was not a pleasant feeling. I think my final thought was, She wouldn't even give me a hearing.

Trish and I were up very early the next morning. She had to get on the road and it was Friday. Fridays on Britain's roads are hell. She had to get back to Newcastle for her last weekend before she finished for good. She would return on Thursday prior to taking her flight on Friday. That would be the last I would see of her for a long, long time.




The Way Back Ch. 06



------ 

TWENTY-SIX 

I had taken the day off work, and I had asked Jenny to come to the house from lunchtime and fill me in on our coming appointments. She told me she would then stay the weekend. She insisted, knowing it was Ann's wedding on Saturday and I have to say I was grateful. The morning was taken up with changing the bed. I felt it would be churlish to expect Jenny to sleep between the same sheets that had seen Trish's and my amorous activities of the night before. Then I shopped for us for the weekend.

I made some soup at lunchtime and she arrived in time to eat (or drink) it. I never worked out which of the two one does with soup. Perhaps it depends on how thick the soup is. Over the simple meal I told her of the previous night's meeting with Ann. 

"You still feel something for her then," she stated when I had finished.

"No, I don't think so. I have feelings about how things have turned out but we've been through all that before."

"Allan, if you reacted so strongly to one accidental slip on Ann's part, you do feel something for her."

"If you say so," I replied with a bad grace, but I could not help wondering if she was right.

"So she still doesn't know about Derek's part in your disappearance."

"No. I won't tell her either unless she asks. In any case she'll be married to him by this time tomorrow. She'll have to deal with having a convict for a husband."

"Allan, that's not fair. It's vindictive."

"Sorry Jenny, she's made her bed, so... well you know the rest."

"Allan, I know it's been said before but she did give you twenty years of love. I can't imagine how she's feeling now."

We may have continued the argument at some length had the doorbell not rung. Jenny went to answer it, and I followed to see who it was.

She opened the door, and there on the step stood Ann's brother Peter, and Greta. There was a moment of stasis. Ann's brother just stared at Jenny. The look was one of wonder and admiration. I'd seen a lot of men look at her like that. It reminded me how lucky I was. Greta looked at Jenny and I realised she had never met her before. Of course Jenny had seen neither of them before either.

"Hello!" said Jenny, and I knew she was smiling in that way of hers.

"Hello," said Greta, "I'm Greta."

"Greta, how nice to meet you! I'm Jenny Tasker, your Dad's PA."

"This is Peter Drayton, Mum's brother."

Yes, I remembered him from the previous night. He's a very good looking man but at that time had no confidence in himself as far as women were concerned. His shyness meant he never made a move on a woman, so he was now in his mid thirties, and single, and I mean really single. 

"Pleased to meet you Peter," said Jenny. "Please come in."

I saw Peter blush and I smiled to myself.

I ducked back into the kitchen and sat down before they arrived. Then I stood up again when they came into the room. 

"Peter!" I said warmly. "It's good to see you again!" 

We shook hands. 

"Come here Greta!" 

She hugged me and gave me a kiss.

Peter paled when he saw my head. He swallowed hard but managed to smile. Greta must have warned him. He made no comment for which I was grateful; I had heard it all before.

"Dad," said Greta. "Mum's called the wedding off. She's very upset. Derek is very angry. He was telling her that you, Geoff and David are trying to destroy 'the wonderful relationship they have'. Yeuck!"

"Allan," said Peter (I noticed he shot the occasional admiring glance at Jenny), "I don't know what you said to her last night but she came back to us very subdued. She said she wanted to go home; she looked very unhappy."

"Well, Peter," I answered, "I'm afraid I rather lost it. She criticised me for not telling her I was around and who I was, and added that as my wife she had a right to know. 

"I told her that since she had divorced me she had no rights to anything from me. I think I pointed out she didn't exactly spend very long looking for me, and that she believed the story about the other woman rather too easily for my liking. 

"You'll appreciate that when you come back from the dead after two years, it doesn't go down well that your loving wife is living with someone else and has divorced you."

"We all wondered why you left it until just before her marriage." 

"Hey! I've been trying to talk to her for three weeks. She wouldn't talk to me. So don't give me that 'just before the wedding' crap."

"You clearly wanted to stop the marriage. Am I right?"

"Not necessarily, what she does with her life is no longer any concern of mine. We're divorced remember? I wanted her to know the true situation. She's hated me for no reason for long enough."

"But Greta says you've been back for months. Why wait so long?"

"OK Peter. The police wanted me to keep quiet. Let me put some facts before you. Just facts. I won't say more. You can make your own inferences. I can't tell you everything, but this will give you an inkling.

"The photos Trish showed to Ann show a man watching my cousin and me. You do know that the 'other woman' is my cousin and her husband?"

He nodded.

"One of my friends took me to talk with that man since he lives locally. The man told me himself that he got me to get into a car, saying that my client needed to clarify a detail in our contract. The car was a red Toyota. I was dumped from a red Toyota on waste ground in Newcastle. It seems two other men joined the driver. The men are also from round here. The police think that someone employed the three of them to kill me. In other words it was not a random mugging. 

"The police are getting evidence together and have been since I got back. They much prefer me not to talk about it at all, and in particular didn't want me to contact Ann. They were emphatic about that. Since my memory was so impaired that I didn't know Ann at first, that was no problem, until that is, I did recognise her. I contacted Ann against their wishes, but she would not talk to me. 

"Can you imagine Ann's feelings if she married and then found that the man who she thought had run off with someone else, had in fact been the victim of an attempted murder?

"As I said, I tried to see her but she refused me every time. Trish took control and you were there, you saw the result.

"Is that good enough for you?"

Peter was quiet for a moment or two, digesting the information.

"But I remember," said Peter, "last year -- March I think it was -- she said she'd had a letter from you. You said you were with someone else and were never coming back. That's when she became really bitter and angry. I think that until then she hoped you'd come back. She showed me the letter, it was cold and heartless. I couldn't believe it was from you; it was so out of character. But when it's there in black and white..."

"So Peter, you couldn't believe I would have written such a letter. But she did -- easily! How it was that when I had no memory of any of you here, I was able to write such a letter? I assume I signed it. Have you seen my signature since I've been able to write?"

I got some paper and a pen, wrote my name and slid it over to him. 

Peter sighed, "It was a forgery."

I smiled. Nothing more was said. There was nothing more to say, but as they were leaving Greta as usual hugged me, and Peter shook my hand.

They left and Jenny gave me a hug.

"Very restrained," she smiled, "but if they've any brains they'll realise that Derek's involved in your attempted murder. Now it's time for a little relaxation."

She led me upstairs and undressed me, then herself, slowly and provocatively, especially her knickers which she slid inch by inch down her thighs and then let them fall, stepping out of them delicately. She sat me on the side of the bed and knelt before me. I was already half hard at the sight of her progressive nudity. Her body is really a walking wet dream. She took me in her mouth and worked her magic. My penis continued to rise until I was quite hard. She took her mouth off me.

"Shall I finish you in my mouth or elsewhere?" she grinned and flicked her blond hair out of her eyes.

"Elsewhere!" I said.

"Condom, I'm messy."

She rolled it on, then stood and straddled me, an action which opened her vulva which was glistening with dampness and a tell tale string. I leaned forward and attempted to initiate cunnilingus. Now in that particular position the man needs an exceptionally long tongue, which in my case I have not got. My nose got in the way and I couldn't reach her outer lips, let alone her clit. We both burst out laughing, and the laughter bred more laughter, until it became one of those situations where it is almost impossible to stop. Each time we drew breath, a new fit of giggles would break out.

She pushed me onto my back and straddled my face, then said, "Whoops, period, not nice!" but that brought more uncontrollable mirth. So she rolled off me and we lay side by side giggling, until exhaustion set in.

"I needed that," I said at length, "Life has been too serious for too long."

"Good!" said Jenny in a satisfied tone. "Laughter is sometimes better than sex."

"I don't think so!" I argued, sitting up and pulling her to the edge of the bed. 

She remembered the position from Canada, and lay with one leg dangling and the other flexed with a foot on the bed, opening her up as I sank to the floor. 

"In this leisurely position I think I proved my point, while never straying from her button. She was not laughing when she came from my short wide tongue on the clitoris of her exquisitely beautiful blonde-framed vulva. 

She sighed at length.

"That was good!" she said, as if to herself.

"What did you think about Peter?" I suddenly said. I think I surprised myself; it certainly wrong footed her.

There was a pause. Then.

"He's very good looking." 

"Peter is very, very shy," I said. "He's a classic case of the shy men I told you about. He would never believe you would be interested in him."

"I'm not. I've got you." 

"I watched him and he fancies you rotten, but you're so beautiful you frighten him to death! You'd have to take him in hand."

"And mouth?"

"That too!"

"And... " She raised an eyebrow with a wicked grin.

"Yes," I laughed, "and speaking of that orifice, I have a piece of equipment to fill it nicely, and he's had his jacket on for quite a long time!"

She leapt from the bed, ran to the bathroom, and almost immediately ran back.

"OK, big boy," she giggled, "fill it up! Stuff it full!"

So I did. We fucked with an admirable synchronous movement, she rising to meet my thrusts in perfect time.

"Oh Jen, you're good!" I panted.

"Oh Allan, and I thought I was being bad!" she gasped in reply. 

She would have laughed if she could, but almost immediately she did instead what I loved about her most of all. She froze completely as the first onset of her orgasm hit.

I held still.

Then she released with a cry, bucking and writhing as if to throw me off. I rode her until her spasms declined, and then fucked her hard until I in my turn was still as the first spurt of my semen shot forth, and then fucked her as deeply as I could while she slapped my backside with both hands and I continued to ejaculate deeply in her.

"God," she blasphemed or was it a prayer? "That was a good one."

I grunted my agreement as I took off the condom.

As she snuggled down into the crook of my arm, she sighed, "I don't need anyone else, darling. You're enough for me."

I said nothing, but I wondered about that. I wasn't sure that gratitude for exorcising her sexual problems was enough: being grateful all the time can be tiring. I couldn't help feeling that our relationship was unbalanced; she'd be better in a relationship of equals. However with such a woman in bed with me, I'd live for the moment. Let the future take care of itself.

At that point it hit me what Greta had said about the wedding. Peter had moved my attention away from Ann to my attackers, but now I took in the news Greta had brought. 

Ann had called off the wedding. I felt a deep sense of relief and contentment. Unmarried, Derek had no incentive to do her any mischief. He had no call on her resources, beyond what she chose to give him. I wondered if she would remember me making the connection between my slow recovery and the forged letter she had received. She was intelligent and sharp enough. Perhaps if she hadn't, Peter would enlighten her. I wondered if she would look for a possible culprit, and whether Derek would come to mind? 

At that point I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall of that house. Then I thought of Greta. She would keep her eyes and ears open. Perhaps I would still know what transpired.

We got out of bed in time to go out for a meal together, and then on to a pub for a couple of hours before returning home and straight to bed, this time to sleep. 

The whole evening was relaxed and we talked about everything except the current drama; not because we were avoiding it, but because we were at ease with each other and the topic simply did not arise. Nor did I think about it all evening either.

We had risen late on Saturday morning and were sitting in dressing gowns at the table in the kitchen reading the papers when the doorbell went. I shuffled along the hallway to answer it and saw from the shadow it was Greta. When I opened the door she walked past me into the hall, carrying two suitcases. She put them down, turned and hugged me.

"Dad," she said anxiously searching my face, "can I stay here? I can't take any more of that house,"

"Well, you seem to have expected the answer yes!" I smiled, nodded at the luggage and shook my head, "You can stay today and tonight and we'll talk about a more permanent arrangement. Does Mum know where you are?"

"No. I left a note in my room that I'd left home because I couldn't stand living with him any longer."

"We need to tell her: she'll be worried about you."

She nodded and walked through to the kitchen, where she stopped dead in the doorway. I heard Jenny speak. That woman was phased by nothing and no one.

"Hi, Greta," she said.

"Oh... Hi," Greta said, her voice full of questions.

"You know where everything is," Jenny continued. "I'll go and get dressed." 

She came into the hallway with a frown on her face.

"Get out of that one!" she muttered as she passed me and climbed the stairs. I couldn't tell her mood.

I went to the kitchen.

Greta was sitting at the table, a glass of milk in front of her.

"What's going on Dad?" The accusation was obvious. "What's she doing here?"

"'She' is called Jenny," I retorted with an edge, "and what she's doing is no concern of yours."

"But you're with Trish. I can't believe you're two timing her with that!"

"Greta, I will not have you insulting my friends. If you can't stand Jenny, go back home to your mother. Go on! Off you go!"

"But Dad--"

"I mean it Greta. Go home. Your mother began living with Derek because she didn't know the truth about me. She jumped to the wrong conclusion. Now you're doing the same. Go home."

She began to cry. I waited. I had a vivid memory of Greta as a twelve year old using the same technique when she couldn't get her own way, but this was different. I was not going to back down.

At length I couldn't stand it any longer and picked up the phone. I dialled Trish's number. She answered, sounding flustered; she was obviously in the middle of packing.

"Trish," I said, "Sorry to interrupt your packing, but would you talk to Greta, she has something to tell you."

"OK darling, I need a break anyway."

Greta looked up at me, worried now, shaking her head. 

"No, Greta, tell Trish what's going on here."

She reluctantly took the phone.

"Trish?" she began hesitantly, "did you know that Dad is having an affair with Jenny?"

"...I don't understand."

"...But how can you stand--" 

"...When?" There was a long pause as Trish spoke at length.

"...But two of you, at once?"

"...Oh. Thanks. Will we see you before you go?"

"...OK, thanks, Bye."

She looked at me, penitence written all over her face.

"Sorry Dad. I didn't know."

"No, Greta, you didn't. I happen to know two very loving and caring women. Trish told you she was emigrating on Friday?"

"Yes," she answered pensively, "she said you were entitled to a friend now she was going. She said she was happy you were with Jenny. She likes her."

"Jenny likes her as well," I laughed. "They team up against me when they're together."

"You don't...?"

"No, Greta. No threesomes."

She blushed.

Jenny appeared, fully dressed. I knew she'd been hovering in the hall, listening.

Greta looked up guiltily. 

"I'm sorry, Jenny. I jumped to conclusions."

"Come here," said Jenny and hugged the girl. "We all love your Dad. There's a lot you don't know but he's been very good to me. You could say he's changed my life."

Greta nodded and turned to me.

"Can I stay, Dad? I promise I won't get in the way!" She smirked; the old Greta was back.

"Yes, of course," I replied, "but we must tell your mother where you are. She's got enough trouble at the moment, what with cancelling the wedding and what I assume would follow with Derek. The last thing she needs is her daughter disappearing."

I found I didn't know her home number, but Greta gave it me and I dialled.

Derek answered.

"Derek, It's Allan. I need to talk to Ann about--"

"Not interested," he snapped. "You've done enough damage, she belongs to me now, not you; just butt out," and he crashed the phone down. 

I sighed.

"Greta," I said, resignedly. "Can you get Mum on her mobile. Derek isn't allowing me to speak to her."

Greta's lip curled. She tapped in the number, and gave me the phone.

Ann answered.

"Greta? Where are you? What's happening?" 

She was panicking.

"Ann," I said, "it's Allan, don't worry, Greta is here with me. I tried to get you on the house phone but Derek wouldn't let me speak to you. I just want to put your mind at rest. She's safe here, and wants to stay the night. Is that all right?"

"Oh, it's you," Ann said in a dead voice. "Yes, I suppose she can stay. You going to poison her mind against me?"

"Ann please, don't start thinking like that. You know I wouldn't do that; we've always been a team when dealing with the children."

"Sorry," she said. "Yes, I know. I've no right to think ill of you after what I've done."

"No, Ann," I hastened to put her right. "I'm sorry for snapping at you when we met. You can understand I'm very emotional about what has happened. You were shocked and it was wrong of me. Forgive me?"

"Yes, of course," she sounded brighter. "We'll need to meet to talk about sharing access, but Greta can stay as long as you both want. She's having a hard time coping with Derek. You heard I cancelled the wedding? You can guess things are not comfortable here at present."

"I understand, I'll send her back soon. I think you need her at the moment."

We said farewells and disconnected and I felt better for our constructive dialogue. Greta was shaking her head, but we had things to discuss, and I thought that by the time we finished she would agree to go home.

------ 

TWENTY-SEVEN

We sat in the living room on that Saturday evening after the inevitable walk in the sunny afternoon, the purpose of which in my mind was to build a relationship between Jenny and Greta. I have to say it was very successful; they were close buddies by the time we got home. I began to feel outnumbered once more and I was grateful for that.

I had decided it was time to clarify what Greta might be suspecting. Then the phone rang and it was Colin.

"Allan," he said, "Can I rely on your complete silence on what I'm going to say? I mean complete, I'll lose my job and my pension if this gets out."




The Way Back Ch. 06



"Yes. Absolutely," I said. "You know when the balloon goes up, don't you?"

"I didn't tell you this, understand?"

"Yes Colin."

"Monday morning at five thirty a.m."

"On a Bank Holiday? I thought weekends were out?"

"All the better for the element of surprise. They're more likely to be at home."

"OK. Is that everyone?"

"Yes, everyone, all at the same time; then to different stations. CPS has given the go ahead, so it'll be going to trial."

"Thanks Colin."

He disconnected.

I knew that I must not warn Ann, Greta or the boys, but that Greta needed to be at home overnight on Sunday with her mother. The police might break in and run shouting through the house, rather than knocking politely and waiting for an answer. I decided to ask Greta what things were like at home.

"Greta," I said, breaking the silence between us as we watched some vacuous programme on the TV set, "How have things been since Mum and I met?"

She did not need any further prompting.

"Well, as soon as she got home she told Derek she had met you Dad, and that you had been in a terrible accident. She told him what you told her. Then came her decision that the wedding was off. 

"That started the arguments. Mum was saying that if she'd known what had happened to you, she would never have had Derek in the house, let alone in her bed. Derek was going on about you being in the past, and she was committed to him. The row went on and on. I went to bed. The lads were already in bed, though Jan was playing his music.

"Mum was up early Friday morning, and I was having breakfast when Uncle Peter arrived. Mum and he discussed what you had told her, and he said he was going to find out why you'd done it just before the wedding, so I told him I'd go along.

"When we got back to the family, Derek had gone out and Mum was moving her stuff into the second master bedroom. So it looks as if their love life is over. I asked her why, and she said she couldn't be with Derek knowing that you were around. As far as she is concerned she still feels married to you Dad. She kept saying that the divorce was all a big mistake.

"Then Peter told her what you'd told us. He relayed it as you told it, and why you'd told her so near the wedding, you know, about the police and that Mum wouldn't talk to you. She said she was glad, she would have felt terrible if she'd married Derek and then found out how wrong she'd been. 

"He mentioned the letter she got, and how it was impossible for you to have written it. Did you know he took that piece of paper with your signature on it? Well, he showed it her to prove it wasn't your signature. She got very thoughtful after that.

"Then Peter left and Mum finished moving out of Derek's room. I don't think she allowed him anything the night before, so I don't know why he stayed in bed so long on Friday morning, unless he was having a wank."

At this Jenny snorted with laughter and looked instantly apologetic.

"Greta!" I looked shocked just long enough for her to begin to blush, then I corpsed and she sighed with relief and laughed herself.

"Sorry Dad, but I am a big girl now, I do know about boys!"

Her smile was going to conquer a great many boy's hearts or inflame their lust. It broke forth again as she laughed. 

"What were you going to say Dad?"

"So how do you 'know about boys'? Personal experience? Experimentation?"

She put up both hands defensively to ward off the inquiry and I smiled in surrender, I wasn't going to pursue it. One's daughters are always too young to be getting interested in boys. Jenny's smile was the broadest I had ever seen on her!

"So," I said. "What happened when Derek got home?"

"Oh there was a terrible row. That's why I packed and left. He wanted to know why she was rejecting him. What had he done? Well, Mum said he should know what he'd done and it wasn't for her to tell him. 

"She told him she'd moved out of the bedroom. That part of their relationship was over. While I was packing I could hear the voices raised. He was going on about how you'd ruined their wonderful relationship, and how could she want a wreck of a man, sorry Dad that's what he said, when she had a man like him. I had to laugh. He's so boring! She told him you were worth ten of him so he said if that was how she felt, how come she'd had such a wonderful time in bed with him.

"She told him remember the children might be listening, which we were! We couldn't hear what she said then but he shouted that wasn't true, she was well satisfied. Then there was a silence, followed by muttering. They were in the living room so I left the note in the kitchen and left."

I had a sinking feeling I would need to think hard about all that, but there were more important things to think about than how I felt about it all, and how it would affect Jenny, who had been listening intently.

I needed to get Greta back home to support her mother when the shit hit the fan on Monday. That meant she'd have to know everything -- apart from the actual raid. A tightrope walk!

"Well, Greta," I sighed, "what a mess."

She said nothing. There was a silence. Both females were waiting for my response and that comment was clearly not enough.

"Greta," I continued. "Stay tonight but I want you to go back tomorrow."

I saw she was about to plead to stay, so I pressed on.

"Listen. I need to tell you a lot more and when I've finished you'll see why I'm asking you to do that. Once again I must ask you in advance not to tell your mother or the lads, and certainly not Derek, any of this. There are still things I can't tell you; I gave my word to Colin and his job depends on me keeping that promise. Can you promise me you'll keep what I can tell you to yourself?"

"Yes, Dad," she said with a resigned air, "yes, I promise."

I ignored her tone.

"You remember I told Peter about a man in the photos?"

"Yes," she said impatiently.

"Well, his name is O'Malley and he told us that he was paid three thousand pounds to follow me, and then tell some men who I was. One of the photos Trish showed Mum was of O'Malley and me leaving the station together. 

"O'Malley said he told me my client, the one I had been getting a contract from, needed to see me and he put me into a car. A Red Toyota. Four hours later three men in a Red Toyota dumped my body on a building site in Newcastle. 

"Mum was given four photos of me with my cousin, but not the ones showing me with my cousin and her husband nor the one of O'Malley and I leaving the station. 

"The Red Toyota was owned and driven by one of Derek's workmen. The other two were also men Derek employed. The three men taunted O'Malley that they'd got ten thousand pounds each 'for the job'. Someone told O'Malley I was on that trip and planned my murder."

I did not need to say more. Greta looked frightened. At length she spoke, her voice husky.

"Daddy, I'm afraid. You're saying Derek tried to kill you."

"No, darling. I don't know what part he played. I don't think you or the lads are in any danger from Derek. If he is behind it at all, which I don't know, I'm not sure if he wanted me dead to get Mum, or my money. From what you say, though, he really does love Mum in his own way."

"Love? Love?" she shouted. "He knows nothing about love. He just wants her. I hate him!"

Her vehemence frightened me. I began to wonder if she could carry off a show of ignorance after what I told her.

"Greta," I said quietly, "it is essential you don't say or show what you know. Early on Monday morning you'll know why. I want you to be there for your mother on Monday morning."

"What's happening on Monday, Dad?" she asked, begging me with her eyes, desperate to know.

"I need you to trust me on this," I answered seriously. "It's better you don't know. As I said, I gave Colin my word; he told me something he really shouldn't have. I promise you there's no danger."

"It's to do with the police then." it was a statement. She smiled knowingly and I thought she had realised what would be happening. I kept a bland face.

"One more thing," I said. "If you have any problems on Monday, phone me. I'll help in any way I can."

"OK," she said, "I'll keep the secret Dad."

Then I knew she would.

"Good. I'll be at home. Call me if you or Mum need me."

I got up and set to preparing Greta's bed in her old room. 

"Time for bed," I said, returning to the living room. Jenny was in the kitchen washing up and getting things ready for the morning. Greta smiled a knowing smile in her direction but said nothing. Perhaps just as well.

Getting no reaction from me, she nodded and went upstairs. I heard the bathroom door shut. I gave Jenny a hand and then we followed.

We used the en suite and undressed, though I left my boxers on. Jenny, naked in the bed, gave an inquisitive look.

"I've remembered I always used to tuck her in," I said, feeling rather foolish.

"That's lovely," Jenny smiled.

I waited, sitting on the bed, until I heard Greta leave the house bathroom and go to the bedroom. Stripped to the waist, I knocked on her door and she shouted to come in. When I entered the bedroom. She was sitting up in bed. 

"Fucking Hell!" she exclaimed looking at my torso and legs.

"Greta," I scolded, "I don't know where you picked up that language!"

She smiled, "Come on Dad, you've heard worse and so have I. I'm a big girl now. But your poor body!"

"Not a pretty sight, am I?" I quipped with a smile "Plates here, screws and pins there, and I bet you'll never see a bigger collection of scars."

She began to cry. It took me by surprise.

I sat on the edge of her bed and stroked her face. 

"Don't cry darling. None of it hurts that much any more, just a few aches every now and again."

"It's not that," she sobbed. "I remember how handsome you were; you had such a cool body."

"It's still the same me inside, Chicken."

"I know, but it's horrible what's happened to you. That man!" and her tone was vicious.

"Better than being dead sweetheart, and I very nearly was. Stay cool."

"Mum should see what those men, what Derek, did to you. Don't you want revenge?"

"I'm angry at what he did, if he did it," I said reflectively. "I'm angry that Mum didn't look for me for longer. I'm angry that he wormed his way into your lives."

Jenny appeared at the door in a very short bathrobe. She looked gorgeous.

"Look in the doorway Greta," I added, "I've got the love of two lovely, wonderful women, and I mean love. I've got marvellous friends, three of whom have worked incredibly hard to find evidence of who did this to me. I've discovered a cousin and a whole family in Sweden, which I'll tell you about another time. 

"I'm back in my job and, thanks largely to Jenny, I'm doing really well. I really appreciate simple things and the abilities I've had to learn again. I've got freedom, and the love of my children." 

I pushed her hair out of her eyes, "So no I don't want revenge, what good would it do?"

Greta whispered, almost to herself, "And I know Mum loves you too."

I didn't notice her comment; Jenny told me later. 

I was letting the ideas sink in a little, and thinking things through before adding, "What I do want darling -- I want justice. They did wrong and should be punished. They need to learn that they have done an evil thing."

Greta nodded. Jenny came and sat on the bed, taking my arm.

"You see Greta," she said, "with your Dad the glass is always half full. Even at your age you'll know the song 'Yellow Taxi': 'You don't know what you've got till it's gone.' Your Dad appreciates what he's got, because he nearly lost it all."

Greta hugged me.

"Good night sweetheart, God Bless," I said.

"You always used to say that," whispered Greta, as I kissed her forehead and Jenny hugged her. 

Then we left.

"Keep the noise down folks," Greta called as we were shutting the door. 

I stopped, but Jenny giggled and pulled me away and back to our bed. We tried to keep the noise down.

We failed.

Sunday morning was normal. I told Jenny what was to happen on the Monday morning. Greta slept in and when she appeared we went out for lunch before taking her home. We stopped at the gate of Derek's house and Greta got out. As she extracted her bags from the back seats, Ann came down the drive. She approached my window and I wound it down. 

She saw Jenny, and a puzzled expression crossed her face, and another emotion I could not read.

"Thanks Allan for bringing her back."

"No worries," I replied. "I thought you might feel better with her in the house with you."

"It's good of you," she shot another glance at Jenny who smiled at her. 

She was about to say something else, but changed her mind. I wondered if it was Jenny's presence that inhibited her.

"Well," she said at length. "Thanks again." 

She turned and left, picking up one of Greta's bags as she did so.

"Bye Dad," said Greta, putting her head through the open window to kiss me.

"Bye. Remember -- phone if you need me for anything tomorrow."

She nodded and taking her other case, followed her mother.

We drove back to the house in silence. I got the impression Jenny, like Ann, wanted to say something, but she didn't.

What she did say eventually, perceptive as always, was that I would not be at work on the next day, Monday, since it was a Bank Holiday. What was more she didn't expect me on the Tuesday either, so we spent the afternoon covering the work that needed to be done. I told her to get the work done and then take the rest of Tuesday off. We had a salad supper and she left for her flat. 

I got an early night, a triple whisky ensuring I slept immediately.

------ 

TWENTY-EIGHT

As I had expected the phone jerked me to consciousness at six forty-five.

"Dad," it was Greta. "The police have taken Derek away. They came about an hour ago."

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Yes," she mumbled, "a bit shaken."

"Mum?" 

"She seems dazed, she's been wandering round the house doing housework. The police made a bit of a mess. They did a search, I don't know what for. They took Derek's computer and laptop away and a lot of Derek's files. She's said nothing to me. It's as if it's not happened. Now she's gone to get ready for work."

"Try to get her to stay at home. Remind her it's a Bank Holiday. She'll be in shock, not good for driving or for getting work done."

"The police said they'd be back to talk to her. Dad, it's as if they think she's in on it as well."

"Can you get her to ring me? If the police come back she'll need help. I'll phone David later."

"OK."

"How have the lads taken it?"

She laughed, a welcome sound, "They slept through it! Honestly, Dad, they even slept through the police looking in on their rooms when they were searching the place."

"Just as well. Tell Mum to ring me about looking after the boys."

We rang off and I went down and made some breakfast, then shaved, showered and dressed. I was returning downstairs when the phone rang. It was Ann. She sounded flat and depressed.

"Allan?"

"Yes Ann, I'm not at work, it's a Bank Holiday. What can I do to help?"

"Oh, you want to help, do you?" she snapped. "Haven't you done enough?"

"As far as I know I've done nothing yet." I strained to keep cool. "I simply told Greta to get you to phone. She told me what happened."

"Come on Allan," she replied testily, "you organised this. You told the police that Derek tried to kill you!"

"No."

"Yes!" she shouted down the phone.

I held it away from my ear.

"You want Derek in trouble," she was still shouting, "because he's got me and you haven't."

"Where did you get that idea?" I was finding it harder to remain calm.

"It's obvious!"

"It's no such thing. I give you my word Ann, I have never mentioned Derek's name to anyone in connection with my attempted murder. Ask Peter. Ask Greta. Ask Geoff or David, or Viv or Susan. I've certainly not said anything to the police directly. Colin and Keith have been looking for evidence and for the culprits; what they've said is their affair. I've said nothing."

"How can I believe you?" She was quieter now.

"Ann, you remember more about our life together than I do. You'll have to work out if I'm likely to lie to you. I know that I'm telling the truth; what would I gain from a lie? Anyway, you don't have to believe what I say; and I don't really care if you do or you don't.

"And this jealousy business, again you know me better than I do. Was I ever the jealous sort? Did I ever mistrust you?"

Long silence. "Well, no."

"Listen Ann." I finally couldn't stop myself hurting her. "I've got two lovely women who love me, they are both beautiful and give me all the love I need. So what have I to be jealous about? You've moved on. You've divorced me. You're living with someone else who loves you. You're free and I'm free, and I'm enjoying every moment of my freedom, which I never looked for, remember. Until this morning, I assumed you were too."

"So why do you want to help?" She had left the argument behind, It was a genuine question without an agendum.

"Oh, for God's sake, Ann, you gave me twenty years of your life. You were tricked into thinking I had left you. You are in trouble. Again I ask you, am I the sort of person to stand by and do nothing when you're in trouble? You're the mother of our children. Do you need more explanation?"

"Sorry," she said abruptly. "You're right. Everything you've said makes sense. It always did," she sounded wistful. "You know the police are coming back? They might arrest me for helping Derek."

"Yes, Greta told me."

"I don't know what to do."

"Do you want me to come over? You sound as if you need moral support."

"Would you? But if Derek found you here--"

"Derek won't be home today, believe me. For an investigation like this they have thirty six hours to question him."

"So you did know about this?"

"Yes. Colin told me last night, but it was a favour and I was sworn to secrecy. His job depended on my secrecy. Why do you think I got Greta to come home?"

"So you lied!"

"No, Ann, I didn't. The matter of me knowing about the police raid hasn't been mentioned. You accused me of talking to the police. I haven't. Neither have they talked to me. Colin did tell me, and he was taking a risk. He knew I'd want to make sure you were safe."

"Oh."

"Still want me to come over?"

"Please."

"I'll contact David as well. If they arrest you you'll need him."

"Do you think they will?"

"I don't know, but if they question you at home it would be better to have David there."

"Allan!" She sounded urgent. "I don't know what's going on. You've got to believe me!"

"Ann, my memory is patchy but I do know you are totally honest. Of course I believe you."

She sighed loudly enough for me to hear.

"I'll be there in half an hour."

We disconnected and I phoned David at home. He said since it was a Bank Holiday he could go straight to Ann's place. In fact he didn't live far.

I got there first. The front door opened and I was overwhelmed by three young folk hugging me hello. I looked up and there was Ann standing at the rear of the huge hallway. She was smiling at their affection but there was a look of what I could only describe as wistfulness. She wanted to be part of the welcome. I disentangled myself and moved to her. I hugged her and kissed her cheek. The children melted away.

"Don't worry," I whispered.

A tear appeared at the corner of her eye as she turned and led me to the kitchen.

Like the hallway, the kitchen was gargantuan. I wondered if all the rooms were this big. 

Ann caught me looking and said "Yes, they are!"

I laughed. "You could always read my mind!" 

She organised coffee and then sat opposite me.

"I don't understand any of this," she began and the tears began to fall.




The Way Back Ch. 06



"Honestly, Ann," I assured her, "it's best you don't. If I tell you what I know, it will only complicate your account to the police if they come back. Once they let you go, as they will, without charge, I'll fill you in on what I know. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. 

"Oh Allan," she sniffed, "I feel much more comfortable now you're here."

David arrived, getting the same greeting from the children, who hadn't seen 'Uncle David' for many months. Ann looked guilty but I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She smiled.

I told David I had told Ann nothing and he agreed that was best. He explained that Derek and the other men arrested would be questioned at length. They would be unlikely to be released until the next day unless they had been charged, in which case they would appear before the magistrates. They would then be granted bail or remanded to prison until the trial at the crown court. He assured her that she would not be held, as there was no evidence against her that he knew of.

While he asked her about her time with Derek from the time I disappeared, I was able to take a few moments to really look at my ex-wife as I listened to her replies.

She was (and is) certainly a beautiful woman with that beauty that comes with incipient middle age; a mature beauty with depth to it. Her hair showed not a trace of grey, or her skin a trace of wrinkles, though her neck was beginning to hint at her age. 

High cheekbones ensured her facial beauty would last her through life, and her large wide-set eyes straight nose and generous mouth gave her a classic look. As she went to fill the kettle for a second round of coffee it was clear she had kept her figure after her children, and I had a flash of memory that she trained at a gym for months after Stefan was born. Her bottom was tight, her breasts generous, her waist narrow and her calves sculptured.

It hit me strongly that any man would want her, purely on a sexual level, and a man on the rebound from a messy divorce, yes I now remembered it was messy and that Derek came often to our house and poured out his tale of misery on a regular basis, such a man would move heaven and earth, or in his case hell, to get her. 

I felt a pang of deep resentment and anger at his treachery. I remembered taking him out to the pub with our friends and putting him up overnight when he drank too much and didn't want to go home. In no time, that resentment spread to the woman talking with David at the kitchen table. I glanced out of the window and saw that after a sunny morning, clouds had gathered and rain was pattering on the window. Tears for a broken relationship, I thought, somewhat predictably and perhaps melodramatically. 

His questions, at first factual, the when and why of their relationship, and the 'evidence' that came her way, moved to more personal ideas. I saw her quick glances in my direction, and realised I was compromising the discussion. David was becoming aggravated as she evaded his questions.

"Ann," he said firmly. "I'm on your side. The police won't be so accommodating."

I got up and left the room, ranging round the ground floor. Derek had certainly spared no expense in fitting out the house he built. I found the pool, the gym, the living room and the study, where the gaps left by the absent computers were obvious. Then I mounted the stairs and found the master bedroom.

That was a bad move. I saw the bed they had slept in. The room was luxurious with an en suite bathroom and walk-in wardrobes. There was a chest of drawers and a dressing table. What hit me hardest wasn't the bed or what had gone on in it, but the dressing table. It was their ordinary lives in that room; Ann sitting at the dressing table putting on her make-up, walking out of the wardrobe in her underwear with a dress for the day; him dressing or shaving. They were doing all this in such luxury while I suffered excruciating pain in hospital, never giving me a thought. Looking back, I think I was wrong about that, at least as far as Ann was concerned, but that's how I thought at the time.

"Sick-making, isn't it," said my daughter's voice. "She gave up our wonderful house and all its memories for all this... stupid luxury!"

I turned to her. "I got out of the kitchen. Your mother is telling David all about her wonderful life here. She was inhibited by my presence! That says a lot."

Her face clouded. "Dad, I want to live with you and Jenny. I'll go mad here, living with him. Creep!"

"Well, Chicken, let's get over this trouble first, and then we'll talk with your mother."

She looked relieved. "Dad, let me show you the rest of the house. You've seen downstairs?"

I nodded, and taking my hand she gave me the tour of the upper floor. 

She showed me the main guest room. "Mum is sleeping here at the moment. I think I told you."

The room was Spartan in its tidiness. It betrayed nothing of its occupant.

That made me feel better for some reason. I think it was the idea that Derek was being denied his sexual satisfaction with Ann.

She wandered into each of the boys' rooms with me in tow. Jan was on his own laptop, and Stefan was listening to something on headphones. They both smiled at me.

"Greta," I said. "You should knock before going into their rooms. It's their private space."

"Sorry Dad," she smiled, "but tell them that as well. I'm sure Jan wants to catch me naked! He's curious about girls."

That gave me food for thought. These lads needed a dad who would look out for them. I intended to be that dad.

I heard the doorbell and Greta and I went downstairs in time to see Ann let the police in. They comprised a shaven headed man in a leather jacket and a blonde woman in a smart trouser suit. 

"Who may you be?" asked the man, addressing me as I reached the foot of the stairs.

"I'm Allan Jonsson, Ann's ex-husband."

The woman nudged him. 

"It's him," she said, and I saw the realisation dawn that it was the attack on me they were investigating. They took a good look at me, and I could see the extent of my damage making its impression. They made no further comment but followed Ann into the living room.

Greta and I followed them. They immediately arrested Ann on suspicion of conspiracy to commit grievous bodily harm with intent. 

David asked if they could question her at the house, but they insisted on taking her to the station. 

Ann turned to me with a worried look.

"They're taking me to the Police station," she said, glancing at Greta.

"Don't worry Ann," I said. "I'll take the children to my place. David will let me know when you're home."

Some time was taken up with getting the lads ready to go. I told them to expect to stay a while, so there was quite a lot of stuff to take. The police waited patiently while it was done. We left and Ann locked up. They allowed Ann to travel with David since he was her solicitor.

We left first, the car loaded with every conceivable thing the lads might need for entertainment, as well as changes of clothing, their school uniforms and school work, sleepwear and toiletries. The lads gabbled excitedly at the prospect of staying at the house. I wondered if they missed their mother at all but suspected it would hit them later. I was glad I had Greta to help me, who had her own collection in her two suitcases.

------ 

TWENTY-NINE

We called at the supermarket on the way home; I had three hungry mouths to feed. I allowed the three of them to lead me round the shop while they filled the trolley with all kinds of rubbish, then I completed the tally with some proper food for the evening meal, vegetables and fruit. 

When we arrived at the house there was a crowd blocking our way. There was a TV unit from the BBC, another from ITV and a few more, and a number of reporters. They fell back to allow the car to enter and we were subjected to camera flashes as photographers tried to get pictures of us all.

We parked and the children unloaded their things and went inside, while I went to the crowd and told them to leave the premises. Questions flowed free and fast, and I answered none of them until everyone was outside the gate. Then the TV crews lined up and an interviewer thrust a microphone under my nose.

I held up a hand.

"I have nothing to say, precisely because I know nothing. I have no memory of the event leading to today's arrests, nor of the days immediately preceding and succeeding it, so I am unable to comment."

"Mr Johnson," said the interviewer, "How do you feel now the arrests have been made?"

"Tired."

"Have you taken the children away from their mother for safety?"

"The children's mother is assisting the police, and as their father I am looking after them at her request until she gets back home."

"But you've brought them here."

"Yes. This is where I live. They used to live here. They feel comfortable here at what is a stressful time for them."

"Are you pleased that these men have been arrested?"

"Why should I be pleased? As far as I know they are helping the police. As I said before, I know nothing."

"But you must be pleased that progress is being made."

"If progress is being made, that is a good thing. I don't know if progress is being made. Now I would be grateful if you would leave us in peace."

At that I shut the gate and turned away, ignoring the questions shouted after me, about my marriage break-up and my ex-wife's life with Derek.

As I entered the house the phone began to ring. I let it go to the answer phone and no message was left. I changed the outgoing message.

"If you are from the media or the press you will not be answered. Family and friends, leave a message and I'll phone you."

I told the children not to answer the phone, and we got used to it ringing, which it did over and over again. Eventually the number of calls diminished and trickled to a stop.

The rain, which had started while I was at Derek's house continued all day but the lads did not seem to mind. Once inside the door they had grabbed their bags and made for their old bedrooms. Greta had disappeared into the kitchen and I heard the kettle singing as it warmed. I got bedding and made the boys' beds in case Ann wasn't released until the next morning. Greta's bed was already made from her previous visit. The lads were already immersed in their games and hardly noticed me. It was a relief. Soon enough it would hit them that their mother was not around.

Trish rang me on my mobile to say she would be arriving in Manchester on Thursday afternoon, prior to her departure on Friday. I offered her a bed for the night and she accepted. I offered her my bed for the night and she laughed, and accepted again.

For lunch I did them beans on toast, topped with a poached egg and soldiers at the side to dip into it. They fell on it happily.

"Dad," enthused Jan, "we haven't had anything like this since..." he caught himself at the last moment.

"Since I disappeared, Jan?" I completed for him. "Since I was beaten up? Since I was nearly murdered? You can mention it you know."

"Sorry Dad," he said.

"Don't be, son," I replied. "You can say anything to me, you know."

"Are you going to get Mum to come home, Dad?" asked Stefan, assuming he could ask anything as well, as he could of course.

Once again I was put on the spot. I couldn't see any possibility of that happening. I had been thinking about the morning's events while making beds and cooking. Ann hadn't been able to talk about her relationship with Derek with me in the room. I was excluded. All right, I excluded myself, but that was only so I wouldn't be embarrassed by David asking me to leave. The effect was the same. 

There were things in her life I was not allowed to know. I fleetingly wondered if there was a longer history to their relationship than I ever knew. Were they having an affair before I was put out of the way? Without a clear memory of the days and weeks immediately before I was attacked I could not know. Was Ann even in on the attack?

I dismissed that idea. She was clearly shocked to be told I had not been with another woman, and that I had been beaten up. She had excluded Derek from further intimacy when she knew I was around. It did not compute. But she could have had a relationship with him which prompted him to put me out of the way. Whatever the truth was, there was no chance we could get together. Too much had happened, but we could be friends.

"It's not as simple as that, Stefan," I temporised. "A lot has happened, and we're no longer married. I don't think it's likely to happen. But we both love you and you will see a lot of both of us from now on."

"I don't want to go back there!" asserted Jan, and the others nodded their agreement.

"Dad," said Greta animatedly. "He's stolen Mum from you. He wormed his way in, the smarmy creep! And to do it he tried to--"

"Greta!" I said sharply, and she stopped, realising she had forgotten her promise.

"Listen, Kids," I said, more calmly. "The right thing to do is to talk to Mum about it."

"Dad," asked Jan, "what's all this with the police? Why have they taken Mum away? And where's Derek?"

Now I knew I would have to tread carefully, but Greta pre-empted me. "The police think he's committed a crime, and they're questioning Mum to see if she knows anything about it."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he's done something," muttered Jan.

I appreciated Greta's delicate intervention. I needed to say nothing.

The afternoon passed. The crowd at the gate thinned and eventually the road was empty again. Greta was doing her revision, after all her A(S) level exams started the following week. It worried me that this upheaval would unsettle her at a crucial time. The boys were in their rooms. As evening approached I decided to make stew and dumplings with stir-fry vegetables. It would be popular with the children and would keep.

We ate and then Jan did his homework; typical lad, doing it at the last minute. Greta took a break from work and went for a shower and hair wash ready for school the next day, then back to work. Stefan had no homework to do. I realised that they were still at school locally and must have been bussed or driven from Hale every day. They could walk from this house. 

I switched on the TV for the news. I was not prepared for what I saw. There was the obligatory reporter standing outside one of the Manchester Police Stations. Jan came into the room as he was beginning.

"Police raided addresses in Wythenshawe and Hale today and arrested five men in connection with a severe attack on a local businessman two years ago. Derek Fanshaw of Hale Barns, Craig Wilson, Lee Harper and Gary Grantham of Wythenshaw, and Terence O'Malley of Sale have been helping police since early morning. Later this morning, Mr Fanshaw's partner Mrs Ann Jonsson was also arrested. Mrs Jonsson is the ex-wife of the businessman who was attacked, Allan Jonsson. A statement is expected from the police later this evening.

"Mr Jonsson was badly injured and was not expected to live. Dr. Ahmed of Newcastle General Hospital said that on admission Mr Jonsson was given a three per cent chance of survival."

Newsreader: "Why has it taken over two years for the police to make arrests?"

Reporter: "Well, they tell us that his face was so badly destroyed that he was not recognisable, and all his clothing and property was taken, so nobody knew who he was, and when he came out of his coma he had no memory of who he was either."

My interview was not used, for which I was grateful.

Jan stood transfixed. 

"Dad, that's you they're talking about, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Is that right? Did Derek do this to you?"

"Jan. Sit down. No, get Stefan and Greta."

He did and the three of them sat down. I turned off the TV.

"OK," I said. "What happened this morning has just been on the news. I want you to listen very carefully to what I say. No one is guilty until proved guilty. Remember that. No one.

"Derek has been arrested on suspicion, note that, suspicion, of trying to kill me. Three of his workmen are suspected of actually doing the deed. Another man who works for Derek is suspected of leading the three men to me. They are suspected of it."

"But the police must have reasons," said Jan.

"Yes, I'm sure they have." 

I gave them the facts; I was getting used to the story.

"They all sound guilty to me," said Greta.

"But not Mum," asserted Stefan. "She wouldn't do that. She loves you, Dad."

Stefan was the most loyal of the three and I admired him for it, and I agreed with him. I couldn't accept that Ann would conspire to have me killed. It was too ridiculous for words.

"I know, Stefan, and I agree with you, but I want you to hold on to the idea that people are innocent until proved guilty. Mum was arrested too. Being arrested does not mean guilty. Clear?"

"Yes, Dad," they chorused doggedly.

As the lads went back upstairs, I heard Jan say, "I bet he did it though," and Stefan, "So do I." 

I had done what I could.

Greta once again disappeared to revise, though how she managed it with loud music playing, I didn't know.

By nine there had still been no news of Ann, so I put the lads to bed. Then went through the calls on the answer machine. There was the odd call from cranks, some abusive, one from Jenny and one from Trish asking me to call back when things cooled down. David called at ten on my mobile and said he thought they would be finished soon.

Greta came down when she heard my phone, and having been given the news went to bed. At ten forty-five the doorbell rang. There on the step was Vivienne, and with her a pale and sickly looking Ann.

"Come in," I said. They walked through to the kitchen. I followed and put on the kettle and the pan of stew on to heat. They sat at the table and I joined them while the kettle boiled.

"Ann," I said. "You've really been put through it from the looks of things."

"She's been exonerated, Allan," said Viv. "David told me to tell you that all the others are going to be charged and will be up before the magistrates in the morning."

"I don't understand," said Ann as I made the tea. "I can't believe that Derek would do such a thing. The police must have got it wrong. He's such a gentle person. Why have they hit on him?"

"Didn't the police say anything?" I asked.

"Not a thing. They wanted to know about my... relationship with Derek. They were working on the idea that I helped him."

"Didn't you?" I asked.

She started. 

"No!" she raised her voice. "How can you believe that? I loved you."

"O'Malley said the man who employed him on behalf of someone else, knew when I was going to York and how I would get there."

There was a tense silence, and Ann looked by turns worried and guilty.

"Well Ann?" I asked.

"I might have told Derek I suppose."

"When would you have done that, Ann?"

"Allan!" interrupted Viv. "She's been interrogated all day. Not you as well!"

"Sorry," I said. "I was only trying to show that the police might have a reason for arresting you, Ann."

There was a strained silence. I stood and stirred the stew and put a couple of potatoes into the microwave.

"You look as if you need something to eat, the pair of you. It's nearly ready."

I placed the food before them and they ate in silence. When they had finished and drunk their tea I saw the beginnings of a smile on Ann's face and her complexion took on more colour. I was reminded again how beautiful she was, and how much I had lost.

Then I remembered the News.

"Ann," I said. "Jan caught the news tonight. I got them together and stressed that people are innocent until proven guilty. I was only marginally successful. They all believe that Derek is guilty. They want to live here. I'm just warning you in advance."

"Are you turning them against me now, Allan? Is that what's happening?"




The Way Back Ch. 06



"Ann, if I were doing that I wouldn't be telling you this. They have eyes; they have ears. I just wanted you to be ready if they broach the subject."

"But you want them here."

"Please, Ann," I said, patiently I hoped. "What I want is totally irrelevant, and I'm not sure I could cope. I'm self-sufficient here by myself, but a ready-made family? What matters is what's best for them. Personally I think they're better with you, but they're frightened of Derek -- nothing I've said," I added hastily.

"Oh."

Viv stirred. "Time we were going," she told Ann. Did Ann look disappointed? 

"Is it all right to say goodnight to the children?" Ann asked. 

"Grief, Ann," I said. "Of course. You don't need to ask!"

She smiled and left the room.

Viv lost no time while Ann was out of the room. 

"Allan," she said quietly. "Ann is in a bad way. She's been knocked sideways so many times over the past few weeks and today was the last straw. She doesn't know what to make of it all; first she's woken at five-thirty by the police who take her man away without telling her anything, all she got was that he was arrested for attempted murder, then she was arrested and grilled for nearly eight hours. David said they hardly let up. No one's telling her anything and she's confused and frightened. Try to help her, Allan."

"I would have thought her boyfriend would be the one to help," I replied coldly. Why did everyone think I had a responsibility to Ann?

"He's not there and he may not be until the trial."

"Rubbish, Viv. He'll be out on bail tomorrow, and I'll bet O'Malley will be as well, and I'll bet also that by the end of the week, O'Malley will have forgotten about any detail of his part in this business. The other three will be remanded: they've got form."

"Allan, please," she pleaded. "Don't take your frustrations out on me. Ann is now in a dreadful position; she doesn't know whether to trust Derek or not. She's not in possession of all the facts. She needs to know them. You can give her the facts. Please Allan?"

I caved in. "OK Viv," I said, as Ann came back into the room. "If she wants to know anything, she'll have to come to me. I'm not running round after her."

"Who?" asked Ann.

"You." I said curtly.

"Time to go," said Viv.

"What do I do about the lads, Ann? I can get them to school tomorrow, but do you want them to come back to you tomorrow afternoon?"

"I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. Can they come back to you, Greta as well?"

I nodded.

"Can I come by tomorrow? I really need to talk to you."

"Why not come early, before they get back from school."

Viv smiled at me lovingly. Yes I'd given in, big fool that I was. Ann looked grateful and said she'd phone to confirm during the day. I told her to phone my mobile; I wasn't sure if I'd be at work.

As we reached the door, Viv hugged me hard. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "You're a good man."

"I'm a fool!" I muttered into her ear, and she giggled.

Ann came for her hug, and once again I had her in my arms and the way we fitted together brought the memories of our past intimacy flooding back. She kissed my cheek and I kissed hers. There were tears in her eyes and a lump in my throat.

------ 

THIRTY 

I don't do cooked breakfasts during the working week, so there were all the boxes of cereals on the kitchen table, a jug of milk and, against my better judgement, a bowl of sugar. Prizing my daughter and elder son out of sleep proved a chore, and that evoked memories of past mornings, though Stefan was up and chirpy in good time. I told them to return to me in the afternoon and we would work out where they would be spending the night.

My original idea was to have them walk to school. Stefan's primary school was nearby and the high school was a twenty-minute walk away, but a look out of the window showed a small band of reporters at the gate so I took them all by car, nearly killing a couple of the news-hounds in the process. 

When I returned the posse had gone, so I got my stuff together and went into work. I got a hug and a sensuous kiss from Jenny once we were safely in my office.

"Missed you," she whispered.

I told her I'd missed her too. She wanted a run down on the events of the previous day, and this I gave her. I finished by telling her that Ann was coming over mid-afternoon to talk, so I would be leaving early. I could not read the expression on her face, but uncertainty might sum it up. I did not comment.

Shortly after one o'clock, Geoff came in to tell me that on the one o'clock news he had seen Ann and Derek leaving the Magistrates' court. All the defendants had been remanded to the Crown Court for trial as I expected, the three thugs in custody, and Derek and O'Malley on bail. Apparently there was a case to answer and the Crown Court trial would be in three or four months.

At two o'clock, I got a call from Ann.

"Allan," she said rather breathlessly I thought, and visions of them making passionate love after being reunited came to mind. I reprimanded myself and listened.

"Are you free now?" she asked. "I'm in the car ready to come over."

I knew I would take me five minutes to leave things at the works, and a further ten at least to get home.

"Twenty minutes," I said and rang off.

Jenny and I tidied up and left together. As we emerged, there was a camera crew photographing us. They made as if to come to interview us, but I was in a hurry to get home before Ann arrived. Jenny stopped; I left.

I was only just inside the house when Ann arrived. She was dressed in tee shirt and jeans and looked good in them, but then she looked good in anything!

I didn't need to ask her if she wanted some tea, and set about making it. She sat at the kitchen table in silence until there was a mug in front of each of us. 

"Can we go into the living room?" she asked. So we did. I sat in an armchair and she on the sofa. She looked at me and I sensed muted hostility.

"Why are you doing this to Derek?" 

The question was stark and unanswerable. It was akin to the famous 'Have you stopped beating your wife, yes or no?'

"I thought we'd been through this before. I am doing nothing to Derek."

"Derek says you are. He says you're responsible for this witch hunt."

"Well, of course Derek must be right, and by implication I am a liar."

"But he says you've been accusing him of trying to murder you."

"Ann, I've told you before, if you can find a single person to say I've accused him of anything, I'll be amazed, and in fact I'll show you a liar. I have never made any accusation against Derek. In any case, how would he know if I did or didn't?"

"But you believe he's done this."

"Oh yes, but that's a far cry from accusing him to anyone else. Ann, you are the first person to whom I've even admitted what I think privately."

"I don't understand."

"OK," I said. "I'll do what I've done for others. I'll give you all the facts I know. I told anyone whom I gave this information to, to make up their own minds. So you can do the same. Make up your own mind. How's that?"

"Allan," she said plaintively. "No one will tell me anything. I need to know."

"OK." I said again. "Here goes. You know I remember nothing about my attack, or the time immediately before or after it? All that information came from others. How can I accuse anyone? I don't know anything about this thing from my own experience. Greta says that Peter told you a great deal. This is what I've been told.

"I met Felicia, my cousin, by chance in the hotel. You remember the man O'Malley in the photo? He was there and also at the station. You remember the photo of O'Malley and me leaving the station? Recently he told Colin, Keith and me that he was paid three thousand pounds to follow me and lead me to three other men, who he named as the ones who appeared in court today. 

"The three men drove a Red Toyota. The police found the car (was it last week?), and also my DNA in the boot. The car was registered at the time of my attack to one of those three men. Derek is their employer. O'Malley sub contracts for Derek and he said that they boasted to him that they got ten thousand pounds each 'to get the job done'. 

"There was a witness who saw three men unload my body onto a building site out of the boot of a red Toyota.

"Next. You only saw four 'incriminating' photos of me and 'my woman'. The other two, which would have exonerated me, were not sent to you. They were there. Why weren't they sent? Colin is fond of a Latin phrase, 'Cui bono?'"

"Yes," interrupted Ann. "It means 'Who benefits?'"

"That's right, and that's the question you have to ask, not me. Who benefitted from the photos being kept back?

"Everyone tells me that you didn't give up hope about me returning until you received a letter purportedly from me telling you coldly that I did not love you. I could not have physically written it; neither did I have any memory of you or of the children at the time it was written. It is a forgery. So once again 'cui bono'?

"Now," I had one more piece to give her. "Who urged you to get a divorce? Who urged you to go for half the company? Whose building firm is in serious financial trouble and needs a great deal of money urgently?"

Ann had been becoming more and more pale and agitated as my account continued.

"Derek never said anything about his firm being in trouble," she said quietly. 

"I have it from Colin and Keith, who obviously have been privy to that sort of information, and even Geoff had heard rumours. So you could say that it's common knowledge."

"And he didn't tell me," she said pensively.

"Ann," I said gently, "have I accused Derek? No. I've laid before you the facts, as far as I know them. I don't need to accuse him, Ann. The facts speak for themselves."

"B-but," she croaked, "I've lived with him for a year, and he'd done this to you? I feel sick."

"You didn't know."

"Oh, Allan. He lied from the beginning. He took over the 'search' for you, and I sat back and let him."

She lapsed into silence. I watched her face. It showed her suffering, but gradually anger replaced the sadness. I waited, and waited. Then she spoke. There was gritty determination in her voice, and once again it triggered a clearer memory of the Ann I had known and loved. She was no weak defenceless female, but a proud independent woman. I think the tragedy in her life of her husband rejecting her had destroyed a lot of that confidence and assertiveness; the forged letter had given gave her new fire against me. Now it was directed elsewhere.

"Well, he really is history now. I need to find somewhere for us to live." 

She smiled wryly, "I never did like that house anyway."

Was this the old Ann? Even in a situation like this she could find a modicum of humour.

"What will you do Ann? Tonight, I mean?" 

"Oh, I'm going back there." She had that set in her jaw that I now remembered with a new acuity. 

She thought for a moment. 

"Will you have the children here? I can take care of myself but I don't want them there."

"Are you sure," I asked, "that you want to be alone with him in the house?"

"Allan," she said patiently. "Derek is a pussy-cat. He doesn't do violence -- himself. And I have to say he loves me to bits," she added smugly, "Mind you, he's not been getting any since I spoke to you and cancelled the wedding, unless of course he's been doing some DIY."

We both laughed at that, and the phone rang. It was Jenny. 

"How did things go?" she asked. "Do you want me over?"

"Hi Jenny," I answered, watching Ann's face. "It's been a bit busy; Ann took Derek home and is here now. The kids will be staying over. Want to come over this evening?"

She thought for a moment. 

"Is Ann staying?" she asked.

"No. She's going back to Derek's tonight. I think she has a bone to pick with him. Then she'll be looking for somewhere else to live. Any ideas?"

"I'll think about it and get back to you."

I normally read faces well. It is a skill which seemed to return early after I began to recover. It is essential if one is engaged in sales and negotiation. 

However the emotion on Ann's face during that exchange on the phone eluded me. Was it disappointment, or perhaps resignation? I did not know. What I did know was that it was not a happy face, but that could have been down to her discovery of Derek's machinations.

"What's the matter Ann?" I asked ingenuously. In reality I was sure Jenny was at the heart of this.

"Nothing," she answered in a measured tone that brooked no follow-up questioning. I knew better than to try so I changed the subject.

"How are you going to handle this?" was my next question.

"Well," she said. "Could you look after the children for a while? I know they'll love being here; it's home to them. I'll put together all their things tomorrow when Derek's gone to work and I'll bring them over."

"OK, that's fine with me," I said. "Greta's met Jenny, and the boys will have to meet her as well. She's good with young people, so there shouldn't be a problem." 

I hastened on the to the next question: "How will you handle things with Derek?"

"I don't need to. I'll tell him the children are going to live with you, but I won't tell him what I know. I can live with his lies, and he can live with mine, or my silence. He's getting used to sleeping alone. I can stand the occasional kiss and hug. I need to find a place to rent, and when I've got it, I'll have some fun with his mind."

She saw my puzzlement.

"I'm going to tell him what I've decided to do. Allan, I'm going to withdraw all claims on you financially. I don't want any part of the company, I never did; I was doing what Derek thought was best, and now I know why. 

"God! I was so easily led! I'll also withdraw all claims to any of your invested money or maintenance. Then I'll tell him. It will mean there'll be no money for him, then I'll see what he'll do. I just wonder how far what he did was to get me, or get the money. In a way I hope he chucks me out.

"Then I'll move all my stuff out and finally tell him he's finished."

I must confess I had to admire her single mindedness and her calculated viciousness. It was a side of her I had not known or did not remember, and rapidly decided I did not want to remember.

"Stay for tea?" I asked.

"Please," she answered with a smile. "It'll be good to be around the children without the stress of having Derek around, they really hate him, you know."

"Yes," I replied with a grimace. "They told me. Greta said something else which worried me a little. She said she didn't like the way he was looking at her."

Ann looked surprised then her lip curled in distaste. "Just as well she's moved out then." There was a pause and her brow furrowed. "That's worrying."

I had decided to make pork chops in breadcrumbs with rice, corn and string beans, and an apple pie for afters. We went back to the kitchen and worked together getting everything ready for when the children arrived. 

When the lads did arrive they whooped with joy at seeing their mother and, I suspected, finding her with me in the kitchen as they remembered.

After hugging her the inevitable questions started.

"Have you come home Mum?" Jan. 

"Are you staying with Dad now?" Stefan.

"One at a time!" cried Ann, as she struggled for breath having been squeezed by her sons. "I've asked Dad if you can stay here for a while."

"Does that mean we're never going back with him?" asked Stefan.

"Yes," she told him. "You're never going back to that house again."

"Oh, cool!" he was smiling all over his face, as was Jan.

"And are you coming home?" persisted Jan.

"Jan, it's not as easy as that. Dad is with someone else now; she's called Jennifer, and until today I was with Derek."

"Can't he dump her, like you've dumped Derek?"

"Jan!" exclaimed Ann, "There's a good reason why I'm going to finish with Derek."

"Yes, he tried to kill Dad," said Stefan.

"Where did you hear that?" Ann asked aggressively and looked daggers at me.

"It was on the TV, Mum."

"And what did I tell you Stefan?" I asked him.

"Everyone is innocent until proved guilty, Dad," interrupted Jan.

Ann looked relieved, but I was angry. She had assumed I had told them even after I'd told her I didn't. I shot her a look and she had the grace to look embarrassed.

"But you're finishing with Derek so you think he's guilty as well," added Jan.

Now Ann was conflicted. 

"I think there's enough evidence to worry about your safety," she said at length, "and that's why I want you here. As soon as I can get a place for you all, you can move in with me. In the meantime I'm going back to Derek's place."

I'd had enough.

"OK, folks," I said decisively. "Listen. You three are going to live here with me. Mum has to finish with Derek properly, and she has to find somewhere to live. She can't live with me because I already have a girlfriend who I refuse to 'dump' as you so eloquently put it, Jan. You will meet Jenny later tonight or tomorrow. She is a good woman and you will be polite to her. Greta has met her and likes her. Conversation closed."

At this point Greta arrived, "Who do I like, Dad?" she asked, coming through the door.

"Jenny."

"Oh, yes," she enthused. "She's really cool. Oh, hello Mum!" 

The latter was said with some surprise mixed with delight and she crossed to Ann and hugged her. 

"You staying for tea?" she asked, getting a nod.

The children dispersed and Ann and I finished cooking the dinner. I added a pineapple ring to each chop as a sign of added celebration, the children loved this meal and usually asked for it on their birthdays. Another isolated memory.

We ate together in the dining room as we had always done. It was comforting and felt right, but at the same time faintly unreal since we were no longer a whole family. Still, the conversation flowed with much talk about school and friends. There was a good deal of laughter and plays upon words; Ann gave as good as she got. 

Once again I was reminded more clearly than ever how beautiful she was, how animated her face, how bright and quick her wit, and how her smile lit up her face. Again the anger arose that all we had had, all this happy family life had been wantonly destroyed by that man to whom she was returning.

After the meal Ann said she would have to go, but would return the next day with the children's things. It was confirmation if any were needed that they were to stay and they looked happy and content.

Jenny phoned and I asked her round. She said she had an idea which she wasn't sure I'd like, but which she'd tell me about when she arrived. She also said that she wouldn't stay the night with the lads there, since they'd only just moved in.

She arrived and I called the lads down to meet her. 

Stefan took a look, said "Hello" and went back to his games.

Jan stood and I had to hold back my laughter. He looked at her and I recognised that look. He had fallen in love at first sight. He was tongue-tied and shy but could not take his eyes off her. Thirteen and fancying a woman more than twice his age! 

"Hello, Jan," she said softly and smiled.

"H-hello," he stammered out and turned and ran.

She turned to me and looked puzzled. 

"What?" was all she said.

"He's fallen in love with you," I laughed.

"What?"

"He's smitten. You've captured his heart! I've got competition. Are you going to leave me for him?"

She recovered quickly. 

"Well, he's much younger than you, and much better looking! I could be tempted!"

"You slut! So fickle! Thrown over by her lust for his son!"

We laughed a lot at this, and retired to the living room. 

"I've an idea," said Jenny, "I don't think you'll like it."

"Go on."

"Well, Ann needs somewhere to live."

"Yes. Perceptive as always," I said with a touch of sarcasm.




The Way Back Ch. 07



THIRTY-ONE

Strange how some of the most obvious solutions elude one. Jenny's solution that Ann move into my house and I move back to the flat was indeed obvious. 

Of course the most natural place for Ann would be with the children. They were in my house, therefore so should she be. Since I could not live in the same house, the obvious place for me would be my flat. Ann and I would have to discuss visitation rights. The children could stay with me at weekends, though I couldn't have them all overnight at once.

All this went though my head while Jenny looked apprehensively at me. 

"You're right, Jenny," I said at length. "Of course. It's obvious. Ann's coming back here tomorrow with the children's things. We can talk to her then."

"We can?" she muttered, "Some of us have to work for a living."

"Oh," I said apologetically, "Sorry. Can you hold the fort while I sort all this out?"

She hugged me. "Of course, you idiot! You've got to give your family what they need. Remember, there is a meeting in Austria next week, two days starting Tuesday."

"You'll stay tonight?"

"No," she said decisively. "I've got to get to work in the morning, and I've been away from you too long and that would mean a lot of activity. I wouldn't be able to get up in the morning, and haven't you got to get the kids off to school? We'll have to be patient a little longer."

I actually felt relieved. I was spared for a while longer the reactions of my children. With Greta I had no problem, but the lads would be a different matter, especially Jan! 

Jenny made the rounds of the children, receiving a hug from Greta and a glance and a muttered good night from Stefan. She made a point of going up to Jan, saying good night and kissing his cheek. I watched from the doorway to his room; she stalked towards me grinning, and Jan was touching his cheek, his adoration clear.

"Two out of three isn't bad," I said as we descended the stairs. "I think Stefan will come round when he sees how his siblings have reacted to you."

"Hope so!" she grinned. "I can't wait much longer to get you into bed. Good night."

The kiss I got was not a gentle peck on the cheek but a full blown sizzling sexual invitation to greater things. We were both breathing heavily when we prized ourselves apart with heated glance and heady smile.

Looking back on it, I'm surprised I thought it such a good idea right away. After all, I had hardly moved into the house myself, and I was enjoying the connections it was making in my mind and memory. Moving Ann in had just seemed so logical, but on consideration I wonder if I just wanted her away from Derek -- if I wanted to steal her from him in revenge even if I had no intention of getting back with her myself.

In any case, things moved too quickly from then on to think about it.

The children walked to school next morning, Wednesday the 5th of May. I think they were glad to do it. There were no reporters now the case was adjourned. Stefan joined a 'walking train' to his primary school, and the older two were happy to meet their friends. It gave me time to get the house straight.

Ann arrived at ten thirty. We stowed the children's stuff in their rooms and then returned to the kitchen. Ann made as if to go.

"I'll be getting back to work," she said, collecting her bag and coat. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

I gave her a look.

"Of course you will," she smiled with a sigh. "I'm so used to Derek. He's hopeless. I've never been able to leave the children with him!"

"Ann," I said. "Can you give me a few minutes before you rush off?"

She stopped and looked apprehensive. "Yes, what is it?"

"Jenny came up with a idea last night."

"Yes?" Suspicion.

"You're looking for a place to live."

"Yes. You know that."

"Ann, why not move back here? It's where the children are. It's been your home for so long. It can be again."

Her look told me I'd said the right thing. She looked shocked, then there was a half smile. 

"I'll move out, of course," I added. "I have my flat in Stretford still. It's quite big enough for me, and it's big enough for the children to stay weekends, as long as they don't all come at once."

Her expression changed; the smile disappeared. 

"Oh," she said. 

Another emotion flashed across her face that I couldn't read before it was gone. Then it was as if she collected herself.

"Allan," she said, "you can't do this. You bought the house; it's yours. I can't let you just leave it for some poky flat."

"It's what I want, and what you need, Ann, " I replied. "The children need you. You have the chance to be all together again in the house you all love. Please do this for them. I'm sure you'll be happier here as well, rather than in some rented house. And by the way, the flat is far from poky!"

She was silent for a long moment. Then she stiffened and I knew her mind was made up. The half smile returned.

"All right," she said, somewhat reluctantly, "but this is your real home and you must come and go as you please. Don't stay away. You will come here to see the children, won't you? Often?" 

Then as if as an afterthought under her breath though I heard it, "And I'd like to see you as well."

"There are two favours to ask," I ventured. 

"Fire away."

"Could you stay this weekend while I sort out the flat? It's not been lived in for a while; it'll be musty."

She smiled. "I'd love to."

"Friday to Sunday?"

"Fine. And the second one?"

"I've got to go to Salzburg next week, leaving Tuesday getting back Thursday."

"Want me here again?"

"Please."

"No problem. At this rate I'll hardly see Derek till I move out!" Her smile widened.

"So," she said. "I could actually move in permanently the weekend after next. I'll be glad to be free of Derek, it nauseates me to have to live in the same house. This is working out well."

"Good," I said, relieved, "I'll see if Jenny will help to move my stuff on Saturday. Will you be here permanently from the following Saturday night?"

She nodded.

"And will you eat here evenings until you finally take up residence? You don't need to cook for Derek do you?"

"Not any more." She had that set to her jaw again.

"One other thing," I said tentatively. "Trish is going to New Zealand this Friday; she'll be staying over tomorrow so she's near the airport."

"OK," said Ann blithely. 

Then she was off to work and I decided to do the same. I'd been neglecting it for too long, one of the perks of owning the place, I suppose. I'd be taking the afternoon the next day to meet Trish and Friday morning to take her to the airport. I really did need to put in an appearance.

As it happened, next day Trish actually turned up at the office at lunchtime.

"I wanted to see Jenny and have a little talk with her," she said, "in private." 

That was pointed enough for me. I held both hands up in a defensive gesture and exited the office. I called in on Geoff and we chatted about the trip to Austria.

"Oh," said Geoff when we drew to a close, "Viv rang." 

He laughed, "I should warn you that she's on the warpath. She wants you to go for dinner one evening, the weekend?"

"Sorry, Geoff," I said, "This weekend is a rest time. After what's happened I need time to breathe and think."

He smiled knowingly. "After Austria then? The Thursday you get back? I'm under orders to confirm. If I were you I'd check with David whether he knows about this plan of hers."

"OK, make it that Thursday." 

I went back to my office, to find my two girlfriends relaxing and chatting.

"Finished?" I said, with a touch of acid.

"Yes," said Trish, and smiled at me warmly.

"Yes," said Jenny, with a wink.

I knew I was not going to be let into the secret but my bad temper evaporated at the sight of my lovers smiling lovingly at me.

Trish and I went back to the house. As soon as we got inside Trish turned to me and kissed me hard.

"Jenny says your kids are living here with you," she said breathlessly as we broke the kiss.

I nodded.

"Allan," she said urgently, "I don't want to cause any problems. They think you and Jenny are an item. Can we have one last time in bed, now? Then tonight I can sleep in another room. We can cuddle tonight downstairs. I want to remember this last day."

I nodded and we ran up the stairs and stripped off in record time, falling into bed together. We kissed, we licked, we sucked and kissed again. We stroked and caressed; we pinched, we slapped. We made love, by which I mean we did not simply fuck. 

We gazed at each other; we saw the meaning of the past few years together; we summed up the gift each had given the other. We knew then the depth of our love for each other, and our gratitude. We knew that there would always be that special bond between us, even when we were as far apart on this planet as it is possible to be.

The children returned and took Trish in their stride as my friend who was going to the airport the next day. Ann arrived and we all ate together. The children disappeared after the meal and the three of us sat and chatted about all that had happened, Ann thanking Trish for her intervention at the pub, saying that it had saved her from a very serious error of judgement. 

Ann made her farewells to Trish, hugging her at length. Then she did the rounds of the children, then turned what I thought were sad eyes to me, gave me a peck on the cheek and departed.

After the boys were in bed, Trish and I cuddled up on the sofa and listened to some relaxing music, Bach I think it was. Greta came down eventually and said she was going to do some more revision and then go to bed. It was a pointed remark with a salacious grin. I patted her bottom as she made to leave the room and she said 'Ouch' very prettily.

The two women hugged and kissed, assuring each other that they would email.

"Can I come and visit you sometime?" asked Greta, and got the answer she wanted. 

"I checked the boys and they are fast asleep," she added as she left with another grin. She hugged me and patted my bottom in her turn. Young girls grow up too quickly, and get too cheeky!

Trish and I did have the strong intention of remaining platonic for the evening but within half an hour we were in my bed with the door locked. We made love gently and at length, and lay in each other's arms for an hour before Trish tore herself away and went to the guest room. 

There was little to say, indeed our emotions, arising as they did from vivid memories (yes even mine), so densely packed that words were impossible, but our looks and our protracted leave-taking said all that needed to be said.

Just as well really, because the next morning was all business. Boys out of the house for school -- Greta was going in a little later. Then Trish and I were off to the airport where the check-in was rapid for a change and she disappeared from view after our final hurried hugs and a few tears shed, but we both knew it was for the best.

So I returned to work with a heavy heart. I said little to Jenny and she respected my sadness, saying little but being diplomatically helpful in every way, with the odd gentle touch of my arm or a brush of my head where the hair should have been. 

As we prepared to leave after work, Jenny laid her hand on my arm.

"Would you like me to come tonight for the weekend to the flat?" she asked gently.

"I would," I said. I wanted to say more but the words would not come out.

"OK," was all she said. I loved her so much for that delicacy.

Ann was at home already that evening when I arrived and had made the evening meal. The children were much happier for her presence. They looked more relaxed and, well, contented. 

I checked with Ann that she was staying and she re-affirmed her intention to stay the whole weekend up till Monday morning. She said that she had brought some of her stuff over already to make things easier the following week. 

I was relieved, I needed the chance to get Jenny to myself; I was missing her presence in my bed terribly. I think Ann knew that, though what she thought about it I could only guess.

So after the evening meal, I loaded the car with about half my casual clothes, promised the children that I would be back on Sunday night to see them, and drove to the flat. It had the stale musty smell of a place that hadn't been aired for weeks. I opened all the windows and let the cool breeze chill me as it cleansed the air. 

I had only just returned the flat to some sort of ambient temperature when Jenny arrived with a small hold-all, and we kissed ravenously as soon as she was in the hallway of the flat and the door was closed. We stripped off each other's clothes and sank to the floor, our hands and fingers stroking and probing as if to remember what our bodies felt like, our tongues carrying out a similar exploration of each other's mouth. I was hard and she was wet and we did it missionary style without delay on the wooden hallway floor.

"Harder! Harder!" Jenny cried, not that I needed encouragement; I was thrashing around slaking my body's thirst for woman, and she was humping back as hard as she could, her body seeking to enclose and swallow man. She came with customary abandon; her shouts, grunts and expletives filling the flat, and I followed soon after, echoing her noise and my language answering her own.

I rolled off her as soon as my jerking body had stilled, and we lay laughing on the hard floor, side by side gazing at the ceiling.

"God," she blasphemed, "that was so good!"

"Any splinters?" I asked laughing, though the question was half serious: it was not a particularly smooth floor.

"No," she giggled back, feeling her bum and back. "Though I think I'll be bruised in the morning. But that was well worth it; you are an animal sometimes."

"Speak for yourself," I answered, looking sideways at her deliciously arched body, her breasts almost invisible against her chest, her blond pubis matted with fluids thrust into the air and her long legs flexing as she arched, feeling her bottom for splinters. 

She collapsed, then sat up, her breasts appearing again as if by magic, and then she stood. She was ten years my junior, and whole and entire; it showed as she stood up effortlessly and then helped me to my feet, my groans echoing round the flat.

"Come on old man," she mocked. We walked naked into the living room and I poured us two glasses of pale ale. We sat together on the sofa in the nude, sipping our drinks and idly playing with each other's bits and pieces.

"I needed that!" I sighed eventually. "I've missed you."

She snuggled down under my arm. 

"And I you," she whispered. "It was agony working with you this week. I wanted to jump you and rip your clothes off."

"If only I'd known," I said as seriously as I could manage. "I'd have taken them off myself. Though finding us humping nakedly on my desk might have shocked Judy."

"Might have? She'd have had a fit!" 

There was a pause and she grinned. "Then she'd have stayed to watch, wondering why you never did it for her when she was your PA!"

"I was married," I stated baldly, "but if I hadn't have been, who knows?"

She nudged my ribs, luckily not the side I was holding my drink.

"Here, steady on!" I cried, struggling to hold the glass steady. 

The laughter and the sex fun had been exactly what I needed to get over my feelings of bereavement over losing the woman who had nursed me back to health. I caught the occasional questioning glance as Jenny surreptitiously checked my emotional state and I realised how lucky I was.

------ 

THIRTY-TWO

The weekend passed quickly, which was surprising since we did very little. On Friday evening, we went to bed early, made love for the second time, this time on a softer surface, and fell asleep. Saturday we were up late and took a long leisurely breakfast, once we'd been to the supermarket to restock the fridge. Then we cleaned the flat. The afternoon was spent reading: it was raining cats and dogs outside and we felt in no need of drowning.

In the evening we played scrabble and chess, then watched rubbish on TV while gradually working each other up into a sexual frenzy. We ceased paying any attention to the programme on the box and concentrated on undressing each other. 

Then I bent her over the arm of the sofa and standing, I took her from behind, much to her enjoyment, at least that's what I gathered from her squeals and cries of delight, to say nothing of her earthy comments on my prowess and her urging me to redouble my efforts. I delighted in the sight of her perfect rump and of my cock plunging in and out of her slick pussy, but I did not come.

She did, and when she had quietened somewhat she told me to lie down on the sofa and straddling me, rode me reverse cowgirl fashion. It gave me the same view as before of her sinuous back and lovely bottom cheeks as they rose and fell, while gaining for herself similar sensations as she had from her previous position bent over at my mercy. 

This time though she was the one in full control, and she used her power to tantalise me. She knew the movements of my body when I was about to come, and would slow right down and move sensuously over me, bending forward away from me to pull my cock down and remove the imminence of my release. Then she would resume, taking her orgasm at will, while refusing mine.

Eventually I could stand it no longer. 

"Please, Jenny," I groaned.

She laughed, but she had pity and swivelled on my cock to face me, before bouncing me to my own wrenching ecstasy, made all the more shattering by her prevarication, and intensified even further by the sight of her shaking breasts and her facial grimaces as she reached her own final climax. 

She fell forward onto me and we dozed while whatever was playing on the TV continued to be completely ignored.

Eventually she stirred as my flaccid member slipped from her.

"My," she smirked. "You certainly know how to entertain a girl."

"Only the entertaining ones," I replied. 

Upon which we retired and slept without further congress but in a loving embrace. I awoke an hour later with her lying on my arm which was completely numb and lifeless. I pushed her off and pulled my arm over me with the other hand. How heavy our limbs are when lifeless! 

There was much rubbing of the sleeping object (I mean the arm, not the girl) until the pins and needles began and life returned. This activity was vigorous, but in all that Jenny did not stir! Once all my bits were back in working order I slept again.

Sunday was spent relaxing: a stroll in the morning, lunch in a pub and a quiet afternoon with the papers. At least Jenny buried herself in the papers. 

I began to replay what had happened over the past few weeks, ending with what had passed between Ann and me on Friday morning.

I could see that smile of hers; its disappearance and reappearance. What did it mean? Surely she hadn't expected me to stay in the house with her? We were divorced; she knew I was with Jenny. She had never shown any tendency to want me back that I cold see. Never a word. Except two comments, both seemingly innocent.

I should come and go as I pleased in my own house; 'And I'd like to see you as well'.

Then there was what Greta said had passed between Derek and Ann that seemed to show that Ann was protesting her love for me. Did that make sense?

I simply couldn't get over her lack of interest in finding me, and then there was her continuing tendency to assume Derek was telling the truth and that I was the liar. There was her refusal to see me. After two and a half years and most of them with Derek, with a very generous allowance she surely couldn't have been so angry. 

Yet Greta said that Ann still loved me and the whole Derek thing was a dreadful mistake. But was it love or guilt, or just pity? I must have sighed because Jenny looked up.




The Way Back Ch. 07



"What's the matter? That was a big sigh."

"Nothing. I keep trying to understand Ann's behaviour and each time I fail. Everything is so contradictory."

"I don't see a problem. She was led to believe you had cold-bloodedly cheated on her, and preferred another woman, leaving her to bring up the children alone. Then that you sent a dreadful letter coldly telling her you did not love her. It made no reference to the children. 

"She settles for second best with Derek, and then you re-emerge on the scene but she has not seen you, and doesn't know what has happened. She resents you trying to 'explain' something she already knows: that you're a cheating selfish bastard who destroyed her life so callously. So she refuses to meet you, being livid with anger. I think the anger is at your almost casual re-appearance after so long, not the original disappearance. Don't forget I heard her when you tried to talk to her.

"Now she realises that she was taken in. She sees the results of what happened and she's devastated. She sees the man she always loved with one, no with two other women. So she's lost you again."

"But why didn't she search for me?" I'm afraid I whined. "That's something I can't get over. Derek was there straightaway and she made no real effort, she left it to him! In any case, how can I believe she loves me, when she's taken Derek's side against mine over and over again. Her first reaction to Derek's arrest was to accuse me of orchestrating it as revenge. I think she feels guilty and probably pities me. But love? I don't think so." I was beginning to be upset.

"OK, OK!" she soothed. "Go over there and see the children. Observe Ann and see if that helps. Change of scene; stop you moping and obsessing over what you think might be her motives. You know that one day soon you'll have to face her and talk it all out?"

She was right. It was time for me to go over to the house to see something of the children before the weekend was over. 

Jenny went back to her flat; she wanted to get herself ready for work the next day and make some preparations for our trip to Austria on the Tuesday.

I went to the house. Ann had a salad supper ready and we all ate together, and afterwards she banished me to the garden with the boys since it was a sunny evening. 

We played football and Frisbee and Greta came out on a break from revision and joined us for the latter. There was much laughter and larking about, though when the lads wrestled me to the ground Greta was clucking at them to be careful, but she was ignored, and thankfully they missed my more vulnerable spots. 

I glanced at the kitchen window and Ann washing up, gazing out at us in a heap on the grass. She saw me look and turned away. I decided it was time to call our games to a halt.

We entered the kitchen and the lads rushed off to play in their own rooms before it was time for bed, and Greta took one look at Ann and disappeared into the living room. I saw at once why: Ann was tearful. I wanted to ask her what the matter was, but something stopped me and I went to the kettle to make some tea. After a minute or two, from behind me, she spoke.

"It was nice to see you playing with the children. They need you so much, Allan. They missed you more than they'll ever say."

"Well I'm here for good now," I replied, busying myself with the teapot, my back to her, "I'll be around nearby until they leave home. I'll try to make it up to them."

There was a quiet sob and Ann left the room. What had I said now? What was going on? So many conflicting signals and behaviour. I could hear a muffled conversation going on between Ann and Greta. It seemed Greta was comforting her mother. The girl was carrying quite a burden, and I wasn't sure it was good for her, especially with exams starting on the Tuesday. 

After half an hour or so, during which I made a pot of tea for two and drank my share, I heard movements and Ann's voice upstairs. Then the front door shut. She had gone without saying goodbye. What was the matter with the woman? Then Greta came into the kitchen.

She sat down opposite me. She had been crying.

"What's the matter, darling?" I asked.

"A shame you couldn't have asked Mum the same question, Dad," she actually snarled at me. "Couldn't you see how upset she was?"

"Upset?" I answered her. "Why should she be upset? She's going to be here in her own house, with you all. She knows I'll be ready to help her."

"Oh, Dad! Are you being deliberately thick?"

I was about to rebuke her, when she continued. 

"Dad, she loves you. She wants you back. She was watching us playing in the garden, and it was like old times, except you aren't with her. You said you'd always be here for us, but you didn't include her. Dad, it's not her fault she was lied to."

"Did she say she loved me?"

"Well, no," she stuttered, "but it's obvious."

"Greta," I replied, as gently as I could, "I understand what you're saying, but there are a lot of issues between us which I'm not going into with you. I hardly know Mum any more. I remember a lot. I like her a lot."

"You love her?"

"I can't answer that in one word, and it's just too complicated. As far as possible I want her to be happy."

"You're jealous that she was sleeping with Derek!" 

I sat still. My face must have registered my displeasure. Greta looked uncomfortable.

At length I put my thoughts together and spoke.

"Darling, you remember you misunderstood about my relationship with Trish and Jenny. You didn't know the facts and jumped to the wrong conclusion. You're doing it again."

"But--"

"Let me finish," I cut in. "Jealous is the wrong word. Her sleeping with Derek is part of it, but not how you think. It's a small part of the problem between us. I understand why she's unhappy, but, for reasons I will not discuss with you there's not a lot I can do. 

"If it makes you feel any better, there will come a time when Mum and I will have to have it out together. But that's between your mother and me. There are a lot of issues we need to settle. 

"Even if we settle those issues, there's Jenny to consider. I don't sleep with women without commitment. As long as she needs me in her life I'm hers. 

"Mum and I are divorced. I'm sorry if that makes Mum unhappy, but I didn't divorce her, she divorced me. I'll do everything I can for Mum, but Jenny comes first. Do you understand that?"

She looked unhappy. Then she nodded. "Yes, Dad, I do see that. It's just so sad."

"Yes, it is. What we have to do in life is try to do the best we can even when circumstances are not the best. We have to be true to what we believe to be right. I treat faithfulness very seriously. I would have married Trish, you know."

She nodded.

"I didn't look for a relationship with Jenny," I continued. "Circumstances brought it on us, but I will be faithful to her from now until she ends our relationship. I can't and won't let her down."

She teared up and came round to me and hugged me, "Love you, Dad."

"Love you, Chicken. Try to ignore what's happening between Mum and me. Concentrate on your exams. Things will work out in time."

She left to do yet more revision. She had Monday at home to do even more.

Though Ann had said she would stay until Monday morning, she did not return, so once I'd got the lads ready for school and then into bed. I showered, said goodnight to Greta and retired to bed myself. 

Strangely Ann and I were sharing a bed, though on consecutive nights. Perhaps her perfume on the pillow was the reason I could not get to sleep. The events of the evening went round and round in my head. 

Greta tells me Ann's tears showed she loved me, but Ann had said nothing to me. Was that how our relationship had been? We got on well but didn't talk? We laughed and joked; we made noisy love, if I remembered correctly what Greta had said, but perhaps we never talked about important personal matters. 

I found Ann very, very attractive. There was more to our present relationship than simply friendship, or our teamwork looking after the children. There was definitely something more, but I didn't know what it was.

My assertion to Ann that we were a team when dealing with the children, where did that come from? I didn't think anyone told me that. They told me we were a couple deeply in love. They told me that Ann would be in love with me again once she knew the truth. It certainly seemed they were right about that. 

So if I weren't involved with Jenny, would I make a play for Ann? Could we start a brand new relationship from scratch? No. There was too much about our previous relationship I didn't know, and she did. 

We were not on an equal footing. She would always have an advantage over me. She could bend the truth to suit herself and I would never know, unless I later remembered. Then what? Perhaps she would never do such a thing, but there was no way I could find out.

There was that recurring obstacle I'd rehearsed over and over without resolution; her preference for Derek, her belief in my guilt, and that she gave up the search almost before it began.

It was all academic in any case, I was now involved with Jenny, and I had meant what I said to Greta. I had, and have, strong values. I sometimes wonder where they came from; they seem to have been part of me even with memory loss after the 'incident'. Since then I have intellectualised them, but they were there, part of me, already. 

One of these values is faithfulness, keeping faith with others. What's more Jenny and I were intimate in many ways not only sexually, and we worked and lived together very intimately and comfortably. 

Then the mental round would start again. Eventually I must have fallen asleep because next morning I woke up feeling like death.

The day was crammed, and when I got home Ann phoned and rather coldly, not to say abruptly, told me she would not be coming over for the evening meal but would be there for the children after school on Tuesday as agreed. She would stay until Thursday morning but would not be there for the evening meal. She would move in permanently on Friday evening. 

After she rang off I stared at the phone. What was wrong now? I resisted the urge to call her back and set to making the evening meal.

Later I remembered Viv's invitation for Thursday, and phoned. She was agreeable to putting it off until the Friday.

Next morning I dispatched the lads, wished Greta good luck with a kiss and a hug, picked up Jenny and we were off to Austria.

------ 

THIRTY-THREE

The trip went well. The University was in no hurry for our results or the prototype, and we had a firm order for when we'd completed the research and development of the processor. We completed all the discussions on the Wednesday and were able to get an early flight back on the Thursday, after, of course, some intense sexual activity on Wednesday night.

Jenny phoned Geoff and told him of our early arrival, and after extracting my car from the car park we drove to the office. We were almost there when Jenny asked to stop at a newsagent's for a paper. She got back in the car with a grin on her face and we drove on.

As we rounded the corner leading into the business park I was in for a shock. Lined up on both sides of the road and applauding and cheering was the entire workforce of our little company. As we pulled up opposite the office entrance and emerged from the car, we saw Geoff grinning from ear to ear in the doorway and alongside him was Judy. Then a very pretty and very young secretary came forward with a large bouquet of flowers.

"Welcome home to your company Len Jones, or should we say Allan?" She laughed as she presented me with the flowers and kissed me on both cheeks as a camera flashed. I was speechless. 

The local press were there, and so were David and Vivienne who had tears streaming down her face. The workforce gathered round and there were cries of "Speech!"

As I just said, I was speechless but not for long. I thanked them all for their welcome and apologised for the subterfuge involving Len Jones but I assumed by now they all knew why. 

I added that our workforce was a real team and it really did feel like coming home to them. I finished by telling them if they didn't know already, that we were in the process of expanding plant, and hoped we would be able to increase the bonuses as a result. Loud applause followed and they began to file into the building again. There were smiles all round.

The reporter asked questions about the firm and about our success. Then she moved on to my attack and how long it took to rehabilitate, all questions relatively easy to answer. The final questions were about the arrests; was I pleased about the arrests, and was it true that my ex-wife was living with one of the defendants. I was non-committal about both topics.

We repaired to Geoff''s office for drinks, I was on orange juice because I was driving, but everyone else managed to handle the champagne with panache!

"Didn't see the point of carrying on with the cloak and dagger stuff," said Geoff. "Everyone knew about you anyway! It was the office staff who suggested we welcome you."

I felt gratified.

I noticed Vivienne and Jenny in earnest conversation with occasional glances in my direction, but I was deep in conversation with Geoff over the Austria trip and his efforts to secure the factory next door which had come empty. Vivienne then came over and confirmed that I was coming for dinner the next day, and then I had to get home in time for the children. Once in the house I saw that Ann had brought a pile of her personal stuff but had not yet put things away.

I told the children over dinner that Ann was coming for good the next day, only to be told in my turn that they already knew. I also told them I was visiting David and Vivienne the next evening but hoped to see them on Saturday. Greta said that Ann wanted to talk to me, and I nodded.

Friday was intense. Single parents deserve all the help they can get, I was already frazzled after getting my recalcitrant family off to school, though to her credit Greta helped me in spite of stomach pains as she began her period. I gave her a key and told her to come home if the painkillers were not enough. 

Then there was the assessment of our trip and the following planning of the research and development. Then there was the work on the purchase of the lease on the adjoining factory. I was to invest a hefty chunk of my wealth in this and in kitting out the place once we had it. 

The hitch was the bank. They suddenly decided that they didn't have enough proof I was who I was, and it took some strong words and the threat of legal action to get agreement to release the funds when we should need them. All stress. All pressure. 

In the middle of it all Greta rang to say she needed picking up from college; she was feeling very rough. She had struggled through her exam. I got her home on the way to meet David to pressurise the bank. Then I had to phone Ann to tell her the news. She was abrupt and disconnected before I'd finished talking. Sod her! I thought. Now what had I done?

In all this Jenny was an immense support, constantly reminding me of my next steps, stress affected my short-term memory, and she had to work hard. The day ended late and it was only as we sat back on the sofa in our office that I remembered to ask if Viv. had invited her to the meal.

"She did ask me if I would like to come," she said without a trace of annoyance, "but it was obvious that she didn't want me so I told her I was going to be busy doing my washing and getting things straight for the weekend."

"Oh dear," I sighed. "Another grilling on how wonderful Ann is and how I ought to be with her again. I'm starting to dread these evenings."

"Come on darling," she smiled. "One of her best features is her loyalty, to you and to Ann. You can't blame her for trying."

"Oh I don't blame her," I said without conviction. "I just wish she'd give me a break."

"No chance of that!" she laughed. "It's the price you'll have to pay for her wonderful cooking. Time to go."

It was true: her cooking was Michelin standard.

We collected our briefcases and laptops and made for the door. We both had our hands full and it was Jenny who put her case down and opened the door. Then she did something totally out of character. She grabbed me and pulled down my head for a kiss. It was a long and passionate one and I gave as good as I got.

When we came up for air I stared at her. 

"What's that for?" I asked. "We're at work."

"Rules are made to be broken," she said blithely. "I just felt thankful for you, and there's no one to see, I checked before!" and she smiled wickedly.

I shrugged. "No complaint here." 

We left for home, she to hers and I to mine.

The evening with David and Viv was very pleasant and the subject of Ann was conspicuous by its absence. However, it loomed. I chatted lightly with them, waiting all the while for the other shoe to drop. I was on my second large malt whisky having arrived by taxi, and was feeling very mellow when the thud came. From Viv, who else?

"Don't you think Jenny's a little young for you, Allan?"

I was struck speechless for a while. The effrontery of the remark floored me.

"Viv," I replied eventually with more patience than I thought I was capable of. "Age has nothing to do with it. She wants me as her lover and I'm happy to oblige."

"So she's just a temporary fling then?"

"Viv," snapped David. "It's nothing to do with you and you're insulting Allan, and Jenny come to that."

"No I'm not!" she reposted. "I'm trying to make him see that his future lies elsewhere."

There was another silence during which David looked progressively more uncomfortable and Viv progressively more expectant. I felt a frisson of annoyance. 

"Listen Viv, what happens between Jenny and me is our affair and no one else's. You and David are good friends, and that is why I am dignifying your comments with an answer, but I warn you, you're pushing it."

"Allan," she flustered, "I didn't mean--"

"I know you didn't. You're trying to make everything right as you see it. I don't see it your way. You're trying to steer me to Ann. I've told you the problems I have with her. If it helps, I think we're going to talk tomorrow night."

"But surely, what you've done for her, giving her the house back, shows you still love her!"

I shook my head, "No, Viv, it doesn't."

She opened her mouth in surprise but I was too quick for her. 

"I told you before, I don't 'still' love her because I have no memory of loving her before." 

Now that was a fib; I did now remember parts of our life together. 

I continued. "I accept what you all say, that I did once, but the fact remains that though I have memories of her and me before, I don't have the feeling that we've always been in love. 

"I offered her the house for the children's sake. They hated living with Derek and I'm sure you're aware she's decided to leave him and she needs somewhere to live with the children. It was the obvious solution to the problem. I'm living at the flat from this weekend."

"Oh," she sounded flat. "I thought--"

"It really would be better if you didn't, and as far as Jenny is concerned there's a lot you don't know about her. She needs me at the moment. Who knows? She might find someone else. Then you can start matchmaking again."

David and I both laughed, and Viv looked embarrassed.

"By the way," I added, hoping for her further discomfiture, "were you warning off Jenny from coming with me tonight?"

"Of course not! I simply wanted to know if she was coming so as to know who to expect."

"Oh yes, dear," laughed David. "You were telling her you wanted a word with Allan!"

"Well I might have," she reddened.

"Don't worry," I soothed her. "I know you're intentions are purely for my welfare."




The Way Back Ch. 07



"You do know Ann still loves you don't you?" asserted Viv, unwilling to give up. "I told you; as soon as she knew who you were she would still love you." She ploughed on. "She feels dreadful about not looking harder for you. She simply left it to Derek. He was so good, taking the strain for her; she was a real mess."

"He was so good!" shouted David derisively. "He organised Allan's murder!"

"Well, she didn't know that. Anyway, she still can't believe he would do such a thing. Don't forget she knows him very well." 

She stopped, realising what she had said.

"Exactly Viv," I broke in. "She still believes him over me. Not a good basis for our reunion, is it? Makes me wonder how well they 'knew' one another before I disappeared."

"Nonsense Allan," she expostulated. "She always loved you first." 

Once again she realised what she had said.

"And him second, behind my back? Viv, when you get in a hole, stop digging! Or do you know more than you're saying?"

"You don't really believe Ann was unfaithful, do you?" She was becoming uneasy at the direction of my thoughts.

"I don't know what to believe. I don't know what was going on before I disappeared. She admitted that she told Derek I was going to York. I'd like to know when she was with him to tell him that. Certainly not with me!"

Now this was unfair. The whole factory knew I was going to York, so whether Ann told Derek about it was irrelevant. However, It didn't hurt to discomfit Viv.

There was a horrified silence. On my part I was trying to make sense of what I'd said. Was that a suspicion lurking there in my subconscious? Now it was out in the open. Was I appalled at my suspicion? No. I just didn't know. But it was clear that Ann and Derek had met to talk or perhaps more? Oh dear!

David broke the silence. 

"Allan," he said quietly "I think Ann and Derek having an affair is unlikely. Don't forget it was only after he forged that letter that she started living with him."

"Yes, but I suspect there was more than just friendship between them before she moved in. I think he was working on her for a long time before that, and I've no way of knowing how close they were, how much she allowed, and how soon."

That ended the exchange. I had the impression Viv felt guilty and wished she'd never started it which gratified me a little.

The conversation had put a damper on the evening and I left soon after, wondering if my relationship with the couple had been damaged.

On the way I thought again about my comment. It had niggled me knowing that Ann and Derek had been talking about me before I went away. I didn't know whether I was in on the conversations. 

And Viv's response: silence. Did she know more than she was saying? She'd be hardly likely to tell David who would have immediately have told me. I arrived at the flat and my musings were cut short.

I phoned when I reached the flat, to be assured that we'd had worse 'discussions' before and no harm was done. As I replaced the handset, the loo flushed and Jenny emerged.

"Sorry, Allan," she looked uncomfortable. "I'm going to see my parents tomorrow and a friend's birthday bash on Sunday. So I need you tonight."

I smiled broadly. "I'm glad. I need soothing after getting the third degree from Vivienne."

"I wasn't thinking 'soothing'," she said seductively, and proved it by unzipping her dress slipping it down slowly, and revealing her slender body in a red and black teddy. She was wearing five-inch heels!

"Bit trashy, red and black, and these boots are definitely not for walking!" she smiled at her quotation from Nancy Sinatra's song, as she slipped the straps off her shoulders. 

"No comment," I growled, dropping my trousers and pulling my tee shirt over my head.

She peeled the garment down her body with her back to me, bending over straight legged as she pushed it down her spread legs, allowing her pussy to be exhibited shamelessly for me. She was wet. I was hard.

"You been playing with yourself? Or has someone been here before me?" I said playfully as I traced my finger down her groove while she bent before me.

"I met a rugby team on my way up the stairs," she giggled. "What could I do?"

I replaced my finger with my straining penis and pushed in.

"Yes!" she gasped.

I think I grunted. I took her hips in my hands and pulled her onto my tool until fully impaled. Then I tried to start fucking her. Those five inch heels were ideal for height!

"Wait!" she said sharply. "Let me hold on to the back of the sofa."

We shuffled, connected, to the furniture. She braced herself.

"Now, lover-boy. Get going!"

I thrust. Again and again. She grunted, and moaned. Again and again. I muttered muted obscenities, gazing at her perfect tightly rounded bottom. She began to make higher pitched noises until she squealed and twitched on my cock, and I reacted with what I felt was a flood of semen. Conceited or what? But it was good for both of us. So she told me, and I told her; so it must have been true.

What she actually said was, "That was much better than the whole Rugby team."

I slapped her bottom. Well, there it was in front of me, tight and firm, begging for more attention. 

"Again!" she giggled. 

So I slapped again, quite gently though. She wiggled her bottom and grinned over her shoulder.

"I think I may need some more punishment once we're in bed," She said seductively. 

She did, though the second session was more relaxed and gentle, not punishment at all really, and we drifted off to sleep afterwards and didn't wake till morning.

------ 

THIRTY-FOUR

Jenny left early on Saturday morning, and I was ready to leave for the house, when the phone rang. It was Colin.

"Allan," he said quietly. "Are you at home? I have some news but not over the phone."

"I'm at the flat," I replied. "I was just going out."

"Can you wait?"

"Yes."

He came over.

"Once again, Allan," he said, "keep this to yourself until I let you know that the defence have the findings."

"OK."

"We've gone over Derek's computer and his accounts. We uncovered a withdrawal of forty three thousand pounds from Derek's business account. 

"It was taken in various amounts over a few weeks before your 'accident' and was paid electronically to a number of accounts in Derek's own bank, called Smith, Jones, Brown and Price etc. (not very original) and to a number of companies, none of which exist. We traced the money quite easily, not a lot of effort to conceal the transactions. It was made to look like ordinary bills being settled. 

"The money was withdrawn from all those accounts three days after your attack. A bit obvious that. One of our three assassins deposited ten thousand pounds in cash into his building society account four days after your attack. That was stupid of him. If we accept what O'Malley told us, there is an extra ten thousand unaccounted for. I assume it was for the unidentified man who organised everything and then disappeared."

"Oh. It's all pointing to Derek, isn't it? Where does that leave things?"

"Well, much to our surprise, O'Malley gave a statement more or less saying what he told us. I think one of the lads will cough as well. This evidence, as you say, moves us toward Derek. He will have to explain where the money went, and why. If he can't, it will look bad for him. How could he not know whom he sent money to? 

"I reckon he may change his story when he sees the evidence we've put together. We'll have to wait and see. His is the only name on the business account; no one else could have sent the money. The amounts and timing, and the fictitious names, are too coincidental. He's our man."

So it was finally proved to be true. Derek had tried to murder me. He had planned it very carefully to distance himself from the crime. Then he moved in and took my wife. I was angry. It was a cold anger. I had wanted justice; now against all my principles I wanted revenge. 

"Thanks Colin." 

I must have given my emotional state away because Colin became concerned.

"Allan," he pleaded, "please don't do anything silly. After all you've been through, you don't want to end up being arrested as well."

I gave him a hard look and he looked relieved. 

"Had to say it," he mumbled and left.

With this information stored, I drove to the house to spend Saturday with my family. As I drove, the grey clouds parted and the sun burst through. By the time I arrived at the house, the sky was clear and it was going to be a fine, sunny and warm day. My mood however was dark.

It lightened when I was greeted enthusiastically by my children. They were hugging me and dancing round and I saw Ann standing in the doorway. There was no smile but a thoughtful look bordering, I thought, on worry. She turned and went in and we all followed.

I suggested a trip to Lyme Park, a circular walk up the hill where we could see all Cheshire and Manchester laid out before us, then some kite flying and frisbee. Ann looked annoyed for a moment and then said she'd make up a picnic.

The journey took about forty minutes, during which there was much chatter and conversation. But not between Ann and me, though the children did not notice this aloofness on Ann's part, since she laughed and joked with them as much as I did.

The day was a success. The walk was uphill for a good deal of its length, and I think I surprised the children by my stamina, though I needed to use the stick for support. Where the path was wide enough I was joined by one or other of the children, but Ann kept her distance. What on earth was wrong with her?

Ann took the boys kite flying, while Greta sat in the car with me while I rested my legs. Later, we all played Frisbee. It was while we were sitting in the car that Greta brought the subject up.

"Dad, Mum is acting weird. She hasn't talked to you at all. She seems angry with you. She was happy until she went back to Derek, and now she's got something on her mind. She's not happy any more. We were laughing about something and Jan commented that it was nice because we hardly laughed at all with Derek. Then Steph said he was glad to be away from Derek after what he did to you. Mum jumped on him. She said 'What did your father tell you?' It was weird, she never calls you our 'father', always 'Dad'."

I reminded her I was going to have a talk later with Ann, and that it might clear things up. Then we chatted on about what had happened over the past weeks. She hugged me and said how happy she was.

We returned home happy and tired. I made for the kitchen and was told by Ann abruptly that Greta and she would get tea ready. It was a slap. I resented it. I was angry. After the meal I rose to do the washing up and again was told quite aggressively, I thought, that she would do it, and with that she stomped off into the kitchen, leaving the children looking at each other and at me.

That did it. There was no way I was going to talk to her after such treatment. I stood up.

"I'm leaving," I snapped. "If any of you would like to come to the flat, I'll be in all day tomorrow."

"I'll come," said Greta. "I really need a break."

I wrote directions on a pad that happened to be on the coffee table, and handed it to her.

"Can we come too?" asked Jan. 

"Of course. Now I'm going."

Greta came with me to the door. 

"Dad," she said quietly. "You were going to talk with Mum."

"As you said earlier, Greta, Mum is acting strangely. She's avoided me all day and treated me like an unwanted guest in my own house. If she wants to talk she'll have to come to me but on no account is she to come tomorrow. She can phone for an appointment."

"Wow, Dad, That's a bit strong."

"Sorry, Greta, no one messes about with me like that, not even Mum. I won't be returning here until I get an apology."

"Ok, Dad. Bye." She looked unhappy as she went inside and shut the door.

As I drove away, I saw Ann appear at the front door. She waved but by then I was already on the road home.

I had undressed ready for bed and was reading a novel in the living room, when the phone rang. It was Greta; she was sobbing.

"Dad..." she cried. "When you left Mum ran to the door and then you'd gone and she started to cry and ran to her bedroom. She's not come out. I've just put the boys to bed. They're scared, Dad. I don't know what to do."

My heart bled for her. It was not fair. We had always been a team for the children, hadn't we? Now they were suffering because of us. 

"Make her a cup of tea, and tell her gently that I was upset at the way she treated me today, especially keeping me from my own kitchen, as if I were a guest. Tell her to come and see me on Monday night and we'll talk then. That'll give her some hope."

She sniffed, "OK Dad. Thanks."

"That's my baby! Cheer up, Mum and I have got problems, it's been two and a half years, you know."

"Yes Dad. Bye."

Now I was really confused, but in a position of ignorance I would have to wait until Monday, always assuming that Ann would come to the flat.

On Sunday I had only just had breakfast when the doorbell rang and there stood my two sons with big grins on their faces.

"Hi, Dad!" they cheerfully greeted me and were past me and into the living room with cries of "Oh cool!" at what I did not know. I looked outside on the landing. No one. There was no one with them. Puzzling.

I followed them into the room.

"How?" I began.

"Uncle Peter brought us. Greta came too, but she wanted to go back to stay with Mum. Mum was crying last night after you went but she's happier this morning. Anything to eat?"

Well, that gave me the news! 

"No breakfast then, Lads?"

"Uncle Peter came," said Stefan, "and we had to get dressed quickly. Mum wanted to feed us but Greta said you would. So she let us go."

"It was horrible after you went," added Jan, "Mum was like she was when you... disappeared. She was crying all the time, and Derek used to take her away to the bedroom to quieten her down."

"Did he succeed?" I asked and then kicked myself, but thankfully the implication was lost on the boys. 

"Oh, yes. She would be much better then," said Stefan. Out of the mouths of babes...

I moved to get them some breakfast. Cereal then bacon and eggs and finally toast. 

They hoovered up all the food.

Then, "What's for lunch, Dad?" asked Jan.

I marvelled at his single-mindedness. 

"Can we do Pizza Hut?" begged Stefan. I blanched at the thought, but their expectant faces won the day.

"Where's Jenny?" asked Jan.

"She went to her parents and she's going to a birthday party tonight so she's not here. Sorry."

Jan looked disappointed. I said nothing.

The day had begun with bright sunshine, but clouds rapidly changed the face of the weather and the rain came pouring down. The lads watched cartoons on TV, and I searched the paper and found a film we could go and see in the afternoon after pizzas.

Then it was home for them to do their homework. I dropped them at the gate and drove home.

The phone rang. It was Ann. 

"I'm making an appointment to see you tomorrow." Her voice was flat and emotionless.

"OK," I said, "Jenny might be here, but she'll keep well out of the way."

"Fine." She disconnected. I felt it was a little abrupt.

Now I became preoccupied with my meeting with Ann the next day. The more I heard the more complex it all seemed. Like a second-hand jigsaw, there were too many pieces and no overall picture to help me. I knew there was a good possibility that I didn't have all the pieces either.

------ 

THIRTY-FIVE

Jenny noticed I was somewhat abstracted at work. Thankfully she ably discussed the implications of the Austria trip with Geoff, and I was relegated to keeping a watching brief. There was a good deal of planning to be done and the complications of acquiring the building next door were, well, building. 

At the end of the day, Jenny asked if I wanted her that night. What a silly question! Then I realised I hadn't asked her to be there when Ann arrived. 

I pointed out that Ann might well be coming to talk about her attitude over the past week and predictably Jenny took it that I wanted to be alone with Ann.

"Jenny," I said, "I think it would be a good idea if you were there in evidence so to speak. In any case you need to meet Ann properly. You could disappear while we talk and then return at the end. Then bed!"

She looked thoughtful and uncertain.

"Please?" I begged. "She's been pretty cold towards me and I don't know why. She needs to know that I'm independent of her and she can't manipulate me."

She thought some more and then agreed.

At seven, after we'd eaten, the doorbell rang.

Jenny had changed out of 'office wear' into a loose tee-shirt which exposed a lot of attractive chest, and a pair of jeans which looked sprayed on, and which I wondered how I'd ever get off. So attired she went to the door. I heard them from the living area.

"Peter! How nice to see you again! Ann! Great to see you!"

I heard muffled male and female replies and the Jenny entered the room with Peter and Ann in tow.

We all greeted each other. Ann kissed me on my cheek, casting a glance at Jenny. Peter's smile was wide, though Ann looked by turns puzzled or worried, but thankfully not annoyed. I busied myself getting drinks for everyone. Peter was driving but everyone else had red wine, and I poured myself a malt whisky.

Then Ann looked at Peter and Jenny. Jenny smiled a lovely smile at Ann.

"Peter," Jenny said, "come on, they want to talk." He sprang up and followed her out of the room.

Ann looked round the room. "Nice flat," she said. "Viv and David have good taste."

I waited.

"Allan." She said, and stopped.

I waited.

"We've never had a chance to talk properly."

I waited. She became flustered.

"Allan, please?" she begged.

"Now is not the time for a long talk, Ann," I said in a flat tone. "This meeting is to clear the air and to allow you to explain your behaviour to me over the past week,"

"Allan, please don't be awkward--"

"Ann, just explain yourself."

At this tears started at her eyes.

"Allan, I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven. You should know that, but please explain because I don't understand."

"There are two things. I've been rehearsing them all the way here, and I can't remember any of it."

"Ann, just talk."

"OK." There was a long pause, then, "Well, It was when we were all together again at the house. You were playing in the garden with the children. It had happened so often before... well you know... but before we were one loving happy family and this time you were no longer my husband and I had let you down so badly. 

"So now everything looked the same but we were missing, or rather I was. Then later you said something about being always here for the children, but you never mentioned me. It hurt so much, Allan. I wanted so much for everything to get back to where they were, and that's impossible.

"Allan, darling, I've just been very upset. Then this weekend I knew we couldn't be together, and I was upset and angry, not at you, at the situation. It came out wrong, and I distanced myself from you. I'm sorry. I'd give anything for you to come back to me and you can't."

She began to cry.

"Ann," I spoke softly, "it's not that I don't want to try to get back. It's that at present there are too many unsaid things; too many mysteries in my mind. 

"I'm with someone else who needs me. You won't see that but she does need me. I will not let her down. I can't sort out my feelings for you. Everyone is pushing me to just go back to the way we were. I can't. It's not that I won't, it's that I can't. I've so little memory to go back to. You understand?"

She nodded, looking woebegone.

I continued, "Give it time. I don't want to go through all my worries and feelings now, but I am willing to meet you and to talk through them all in the future. How's that?"




The Way Back Ch. 07



She nodded, "Yes, I'd like that."

"I don't know whether you will. In fact I rather think it will be painful. This Derek business--"

"Allan, can we talk just a little about that?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, but go on."

"When I went back to his place on Sunday, I was very upset and lonely. I had walked out on you after saying I'd be there till Monday morning. My pride wouldn't let me come back. Then I hated Derek for what he'd done, and yes I had to spend that night away from the children and away from you. But I wasn't ready for what I found when I got there."

She stopped and looked at me, as if to make sure I had understood. I gestured for her to continue.

"Derek was slumped in a chair. He was very drunk. He greeted me with, 'Oh you're back.' I said yes I was. He said 'For good', and I said no. Then he burst into tears. He sobbed and sobbed and begged me to go back with him. He said he was so lonely and he had no one to turn to.

"I said he brought it on himself and then he started ranting that he had done nothing to you. He hadn't organised anything. All he'd tried to do was help. He begged me to believe him. He said he couldn't understand why you were trying to frame him, it wasn't his fault I'd been with him. 

"Allan, I know this hurts you, but I've lived with him for over a year and he's tried to lie to me before. I know when he's telling the truth. He really doesn't know what's going on, and he thinks you and Colin are cooking up evidence to put him away out of revenge. He's desperate and he's got no friend other than me to lean on. I think he's innocent. I wish you'd give him a chance."

"So what did you do?"

"Well, I--"

"Let me guess," I said, more aggressively than I intended, "you 'comforted' him."

"Well, yes..."

"All the way to the bedroom."

She became angry, "Yes! I took him to bed and I let him make love to me, though he was so drunk he couldn't get it up, satisfied now?"

"Satisfied that I know what happened. That I know the second reason that you've been acting distant. So are you going to go back to him?"

"No Allan," she spat, "I am not going back to him, but I am going to see him. He needs me."

"OK," I said, "It clarifies a few things. Ten minutes ago you were telling me you wanted me with you. Now you're telling me you're continuing your affair with him. I don't think that gives me much incentive to work with you to come back, does it?"

"Allan," she cried, "I do want you to, but he needs me at the moment. I'm sure he's not the one who wanted you dead. I'm sure!"

"Well, that's just fine," I grumbled, "There's a mountain of evidence pointing to him, but you take his part. That's where your loyalty lies, not with me."

Suddenly she looked panic-stricken, and was silent. I was not going to break the silence. For one thing I couldn't work out what I'd said to provoke such a reaction; for another, after her once again taking his side against mine, I felt there was nothing to say.

Then she stood up, "I'd better go," she said.

"Ann," I said with some urgency, "just sit down for a minute." 

To my surprise she sat.

"Listen," I said, choosing my words, "We have a family together. They need us to be at least friendly, they don't need one of us upset or silent or resentful. They come first, don't they?"

She nodded. I could not read her expression.

"So let's say we disagree on some fundamental matters, and keep those matters for when we have our talks. You still want us to talk this through?"

"Yes, Allan," she answered, "but you just said you saw no point in it."

"No, I said I couldn't see us getting back while you're 'with' Derek. It makes a lie out of your protestation that you want me. That's OK. You are a free woman; you can do what you want. I didn't say we couldn't talk. Only don't expect they'll lead to us getting back together. I can't see that happening."

"I--"

"I did say that if we do talk it may well be painful. Well you've just seen how painful it can get, and that's not the half of it."

She was quiet and looked resigned. "I still want to talk," she said.

"Then we get on as friends for the sake of the children?"

"Yes."

"No more silent treatment?"

"No."

"No more making me feel unwanted in your house?"

"Allan, darling, it's your house. I'm sorry; it won't happen again."

"It's going to be your home for as long as you want it, for ever if you want. I'll even sign it back to you if it makes you feel more secure."

At this the tears started again and she started up and came to me half kneeling where I sat and giving me a tight hug. There was no need for words.

Then she stood and said, "Time to go I think. Can we make some plans to talk together?"

I agreed, but added we needed one evening when we set ground rules before the talks proper started. 

"Practical as always!" she smiled. "Are you going to start coming for dinner again?"

"As often as possible. You may not have heard, but we're trying to take the lease on the factory building next door. We're expanding, so I may be working later for a while, but not this coming week I don't think."

"So come every night," she offered. A hint of a smile.

"Jenny too sometimes?" I probed.

A brief shadow crossed her pretty face but she recovered quickly. "Yes, of course."

"The children love her, you know."

"Yes, they keep asking when she's coming."

"Jan's in love with her."

Ann looked shocked.

"Ann, he's nearly fourteen, hormones!"

She laughed. "If he takes her from you perhaps I'll have a chance!" 

It was light-hearted but there was an undertow. I exercised facial control and contented myself with a smile.

She called Peter and they departed. Jenny looked flushed.

"Jenny?"

"Yes?"

"You fancy him, don't you?"

"No!" she protested, too loudly. 

I snorted.

"He's very nice," she said primly. "Very gentle and he listens, more than most men do. We had a good talk together, but you're the man I want tonight." 

Before I could even think about that word 'tonight', she had pulled her tee shirt over her head and was shimmying off her jeans, amazingly easily considering how tight they were, revealing purple boy-shorts in nearly transparent lace. I forgot about Ann.  

"Come on, mister," she growled, "Let's see what you can offer a lady."

I stripped. What I could offer was standing proud. We were in the living area. "Ladies don't wear transparent bras and knickers, certainly not purple ones," I said airily.

"Oh, sorry!" she smiled, and turning away, eased them over her slim hips, slid them down her beautiful thighs and dropped them to the floor. The bra followed while I was following the knickers on their downward path and concentrating on her wonderful backside, thighs and calves. We retired to the bedroom and I assume we annoyed the neighbours with some noise pollution. No complaints though; perhaps they were out.

The next evening, I had dinner with Ann and the children. It went well and the kids were delighted I was back. I could see Greta appreciated that Ann and I were back on track again. Then I had to go, since I had an appointment with 'the three'.

Colin picked me up and reminded me not to talk about the accounts. I agreed. We had a good evening and the only talk about my case concerned the mystery man who did the money laundering. We came up with nothing, though Keith had done some sterling work going through all Derek's associates and relatives. Nothing there.

Colin and David went early and I stayed for another pint with Keith, who promised to take me home.

As we got up to leave, I heard someone say "That Allan?"

I turned. A group of men and women, about eight of them, were obviously on a night out and were already merry.

"Hey, Allan!" called one man, a bulky red head with a broad and open face and wide smile, "Over here!"

The rest of the group were clearly interested and friendly, but I knew none of them. Were they just people who had seen me on TV? Or perhaps old friends? There was only one way to find out. Keith looked uncertain but I gave him a questioning look, and he nodded and came with me.

"Hello," I said to the red head, "Do I know you?"

He looked totally at a loss.

"Vin?" he said. The group all looked puzzled.

"Pleased to meet you, Vin," I said, holding out my hand which he took and shook. 

"I'm sorry," I continued. "You must have seen me on TV, otherwise you wouldn't know me, would you? In that case you'll know I was nearly killed. You can see from my somewhat unusual facial appearance, my head took a battering." (Loud laughter). 

"My memory of what happened before that is sketchy. So I'm afraid I don't remember you, any of you," I added, looking round at the group.

"Bloody hell," said a man with long black hair. "The bastard."

"It was that bloke Fanshaw did it?" asked a pretty woman with ash blonde hair.

"I don't know," I said. "As I said I have no memory of the event. The police think so."

They got me to sit down and I made extra room for Keith. We were bought drinks which I had to pay for by giving them an account of my slow recovery. They were impressed citing people they knew who had not survived much less. 

I had not mentioned Ann, or Derek's motives and no one seemed interested. They were too intent on discussing Derek. I kept quiet.

"Sly bugger," said another man (they did give me their names, but I've forgotten them). "You know he got divorced. His wife caught him with some married woman. He'd been visiting her during the day while her husband was out at work. Neglected his business, that's how she found out; he was never in his office when she called, and she could never get him on his mobile."

I stiffened. I noticed his wife or girlfriend tugging on his sleeve. Then he realised.

"Oh, God!" he exploded blushing, "The woman--"

"Yes," I said, "could be my ex-wife, but I'm interested in how long the affair was going on. I have no memory of anything between them."

"Well," he temporised.

"Look," I snapped, "We're divorced. She was going to marry Fanshaw. It would help me to know the true situation. I was mugged two years ago. When did the divorce happen?"

There was some discussion about this, but they agreed eventually it was the November before my August mugging. 

I remembered, as if for the first time, that David or Viv had said something about his divorce before and that we had helped him out, that he had been coming round to our place often in his distress. Perhaps he had been visiting Ann when I wasn't there and got caught. Perhaps that was when the attraction grew further. Or, perhaps these people were confusing Ann with some other woman he had been seeing before the divorce?

I thanked them and we left them amid wishes for my continued improvement and invitations to join them the following week in the Cross Keys. 

"Don't jump to conclusions," advised Keith as we made our way to my flat.

"I won't," I said, "I'm so confused I couldn't if I wanted to!"

We both laughed and he wandered off home.

On getting home, I sat and thought.

The more I learned about Ann and Derek, the more confused I became. Then it occurred to me that the only person who could clarify with whom Derek had committed adultery was his ex-wife. I decided to track her down and find out for sure.

Now if I had all the free time in the world, and if I had no one else to look out for, I could have done this in record time, but it took far longer.

------ 

THIRTY-SIX 

The following days were hectic at work. Everything in sales was put to one side as we negotiated the lease and the terms of the new building. It was hard going; the leasing company wanted an arm and a leg, but weren't getting any offers from any other prospective tenants as a result. We were offering them a hand and perhaps a wrist, rather than an arm and leg, but they were playing hard to get. All four of us, Geoff, Judy, Jenny and I were constantly involved with it, while trying to keep all the other jobs going to time. We were in early and home late.

Ann realised this and invited, nay ordered me to go there for dinner each night. On Wednesday she told me to invite Jenny for the Thursday.

Greta and Jan were overjoyed when Jenny entered with me, though Ann's expression was guarded, while her welcome was genuine enough. Stefan was unaffected it seems, but not hostile. 

Jenny immediately went to the kitchen with Ann, and I began to follow but was firmly told by Jenny that I was not welcome. Ann looked uneasy at that, after my last exclusion I assumed, but saw my smiling face and relaxed, as did I in the company of my children as they came and went around me. Before long I could hear the women nattering nineteen to the dozen like old friends. After the meal they also did the washing up and again shooed me out of the room.

There was the moment when Ann looked wistful as Jenny and I left early to get some sleep. Jenny was enthusiastic about Ann.

"I remember how pretty she was at the ball but she's gorgeous! So welcoming! We got on like a house on fire."

"I noticed," I said. "I'm glad. Makes life so much easier."

"She's asked if we can look after the children on Saturday."

"All day?"

"Yes. Greta's got a party in the evening, but we can pick her up after it, if she wants us to. She may pick up a boy and prefer to make her own way home!"

"No way!" I expostulated. "She's too young for that."

"Nonsense," Jenny said patiently, "She's a good girl, and she's seventeen for goodness' sake!"

"Good girls get seduced."

"Allan she needs to live her own life. She's got good morals. Trust her!"

"OK," I grumbled, "we babysit on Saturday. What's Ann doing?"

There was a pause. 

"She's going to spend the day with Derek," ventured Jenny. "Apparently he's on the verge of a breakdown."

I was angry. Perhaps even enraged. I kept very quiet, but she could see my knuckles on the steering wheel.

"Allan, she feels an obligation to him. She believes he's not behind your attack. If she believed the opposite she wouldn't go near him."

"I can't understand how she can believe that. The evidence is massive. Is she blind?"

"No Allan, she's compassionate."

There was a pause, during which we ascended the stairs to the flat, got a couple of drinks and sat down.

Jenny then floored me. 

"Allan, are you sure you're angry with Ann because of Derek's guilt? Could it be jealousy? Do you think you may be in love with her after all?"

"No way!" I replied hotly.

"You find her sexually attractive?"

"Well yes, she's a beautiful woman."

"And just your type!"

"I don't know what 'my type' is. Anyway can we change the subject?"

And that ended it. We went to bed, made love simply and slept.

The following evening, Friday, Geoff, and I agreed we needed a break from work for the weekend. Jenny said she was going back to her flat. She needed to tidy up and do some washing. Then she was going out with friends. I went to the house.

After the meal, and this time I was allowed to wash up, the children disappeared and we sat together in the living room.

"I suppose you want to get this building acquisition out of the way before we set times to talk?" she asked.

"Yes. It's taking most of our waking moments."

"Jenny tell you about tomorrow?"

I gritted my teeth, "Yes."

"I need to tell you something. I know you'll tell me I'm a free woman, etc., etc., but I want to tell you this. When I last saw him we ended up in bed, but he couldn't do it. I would have let him; I felt he needed it, but tomorrow I may hug him, cuddle him, kiss him, but I will not have sex with him, any sort of sex. Hell, Allan, I'll be explicit -- no manual, no oral, no penetration on either side. 

"He is on the edge of total breakdown. His business has collapsed, people don't want to know him; he's got no orders. He's lost me and he's rattling round in that big house. I don't care what he's done or not done; he needs support to get through this. If he's guilty, he'll get his punishment later, for now I'm concerned with saving his life."

It was a mouthful. It took some digesting. I couldn't see the logic in what she was doing, but she was going to do it anyway. I didn't know whether I believed her about the sex aspect, but strangely her protestations made her actions less aggravating; more acceptable somehow. It remained that she was still belittling the seriousness of Derek's attempt on my life.

"Ann, you do what you believe to be right. You don't need to justify what you do to me."

"But Allan, don't you see? That's exactly what I must do. I divorced you in error. I was misled but I did it. If I hadn't we would still be married. You would have come home. I feel cheated even though it's my own fault. I still feel married to you. I want to be married to you. It's just unfortunate that I have this other man who needs me at the moment."

"OK," I said. "I have this other woman who needs me."

She looked startled for a moment as if she had never considered it. 

"Exactly," she asserted, somewhat faintly. 

That was the end of it. I had to go, so made my rounds of the children, kissed Ann who moved her head so I kissed her lips and who put her arms round me and hugged me hard. I must confess to being a bit wooden at that point, and she felt it. Her shoulders slumped, she smiled sadly and made me promise to come early the next day.

I got back to the flat, half expecting Jenny to turn up after her night out, but by eleven there was no sign of her. So I phoned her mobile. She answered. It was very quiet wherever she was, no sounds of talking or laughter or music. I commented and she rather hesitantly told me she was at her flat. She felt very tired and wanted a long rest.

We arranged that I would pick her up about eight, so we could get to the house relatively early as Ann wished. She rang off quite suddenly. I rang back immediately.

"We got cut off," I explained. "just want to say I love you, and good night."

"Oh, yes," she answered, rather abstractedly. "Love you too, see you in the morning."

Everything went smoothly next day. Ann disappeared off to her murderous lover. After breakfast, Jenny and Greta went off shopping in Altrincham, while the lads and I went ten-pin bowling. We all returned to the house at four and ate together, before Greta got herself ready for the party in Stretford.

When she came downstairs, Jenny and I both gasped. She looked ten years older. She was wearing a crop-top shirt, showing her navel and her beautifully curved waist and entrancing belly button, mercifully unpierced. There was a bra under there; I could see the outline of the straps. There was a pleated mini-skirt which came about a third way down her thighs, but the outfit was finished by a pair of sensible shoes with medium heels.

Her make-up was obvious but not over the top, mascara, eye-shadow, blusher, bright lipstick and gloss. Her hair was up, showing her achingly long, sweet and sinuous neck -- she got that from her mother, of that there was no doubt. She was a vision of loveliness. Jenny applauded, while I wondered how she would avoid being raped. It must have shown in my face for Greta came over to me and hugged me.

"All the girls wear this sort of kit Daddy," she whispered in my ear. "I can look after myself at the party. I don't have a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that anyway. Danny's parents are supervising, ok?"

I was shocked at her openness. I saw Jenny grinning at me, and I wondered if there had been collusion while they were out.

"Daddy can Jenny pick me up tonight? About midnight?"

"Allan," said Jenny, "How about if I take her to the flat and we sleep there? It's only a short step from the party. Better than coming all the way back here."

I agreed, and was relieved Greta wanted a lift. It put my mind at ease. I could sleep in the house; there was a spare bedroom. Ann would be using the main bedroom.




The Way Back Ch. 07



The doorbell rang and one of her girlfriends stood there, with her mother's car in the background, ready to pick Greta up. The girl was wearing similar clothes, but clearly no bra and a skirt so short that when she walked away her thong gently flashed me with every step. I wondered which knickers my own daughter was wearing. Greta looked at her retreating figure and hugged me. "I'm more decent under here," she whispered.

I think she enjoyed teasing me, and reassuring me, after all I missed her early teen years, when most of her principles would have been laid down and most of the fights resolved with her mother.

We played scrabble with the lads, and I settled them down.

As I kissed Stefan goodnight he asked, "Is Jenny coming to say goodnight?" I told him I was sure she would and he smiled. A breakthrough!

On request she went upstairs and said goodnight, kissing each of the boys. Lucky lads, I thought.

Quarter of an hour later I checked and they were both dead to the world.

I sat down next to Jenny and she snuggled up to me. As we listened to some quiet music we caressed each other until I began to explore under her sweater.

"The boys?" she asked.

"No chance," I answered with a smile. "They'd sleep through an earthquake once they're off."

And so we made love naked on the sofa in the living room. It was gentle and sustained, and her orgasm was all the more intense for the slowness with which I built her to it with gentle fingers and the need for quiet. Then I entered her and stroked slowly for an age, as she, not having come down completely from her first, endured two more orgasms until I could hold out no longer and by keeping my own strokes measured, climaxed all the more powerfully inside her.

The afterglow was relaxed as always, though there was something different about it. She seemed lost in her own thoughts. I felt she was not quite with me and wondered what it was, but something prevented me from asking her for her thoughts. Just after eleven, she got up and dressed, and I did the same. It was time for her to go for Greta. We hugged and kissed at length, she stared at me, as if wondering about something, and then she went.

At eleven thirty the phone rang. It was Ann.

"I know it's a big favour," she tentatively asked, "but could you both hold the fort until tomorrow morning? I'm worried about Derek; he's talking suicide and I think he means it."

"OK" I said, thinking I'm sure a good fucking will talk him out of it. 

"In any case, Jenny is picking up Greta and they're sleeping at my flat. See you in the morning."

She disconnected and I fumed while I mopped the sofa of our combined emissions and went to bed. I was angry. Nothing made any sense. The world was becoming surreal. My thoughts ran riot. 

Ann says she is not going to sleep with him. Then she sleeps with him. No sex? I don't think so! Why doesn't she simply leave me alone? Why keep telling me she feels married to me, then go off with the man she must know tried to kill me? 

Unless of course there is more to their relationship than she's telling me. She was having an affair all those months and I, dumb fool, never noticed. She must find him irresistible to be doing this. I obviously never could compete. Is it just the children that are bringing her back here? 

I felt satisfaction that the children hated him and that meant a wedge between the adulterous lovers.

Well, that was what went on in my head, all the while I felt betrayed and mocked and became increasingly angry until at last I fell asleep.

I awoke early Sunday morning. The sun was up and the birds were singing; a lovely morning. I could not appreciate it. I sat in the quiet kitchen and thought about my strange life. The frenzied thoughts of the previous night were gone. In their place was a dull feeling of depression, of being used, of uncertainty about my future, and also about the past. All I seemed to have was the present! It is difficult to live in the present with an uncertain past and future.

So my thoughts must have gone something like this.

Jenny kept on about me 'loving' Ann. Viv kept on about how perfect Ann and I were for each other. Were they right? Was it really that I was still in love with Ann? It didn't feel like being in love, but what did I know what being in love felt like? I mean I loved Trish, and I was heart-broken when she left. I loved Jenny, but like Trish I felt I had no hold on her. I had a feeling that inevitably she would leave me for someone else, and rightly. So was I in love with either of them?

So where did Ann fit into all this? The question went unanswered, for at nine o'clock, with both the lads still asleep, the front door opened and Ann crept in. She came into the kitchen and saw me.

Immediately she looked guilty. She launched in.

"Allan, I didn't sleep with him. There was no sex. He slept in the bedroom and I watched him until early this morning. I slept across the hall with the doors open in case he tried anything to harm himself. Please believe me!"

I couldn't believe my own response. I was intensely angry. Jealous if you like. "You've left him now?" I growled. "Does he only commit suicide overnight?"

She blanched, and controlled herself. "He's calmer this morning. He promised to see a doctor tomorrow. He's so dispirited, and worn out. He doesn't understand what's going on. I'm convinced that somehow he's innocent. He's not concerned about the trial and what might happen to him. He just can't understand what's happening to him at the moment."

So Derek was playing the innocent victim? Looking woebegone and puzzled? Very clever. He'd certainly caught Ann. She'd feel eternally guilty if he committed suicide. So by threatening it from time to time, he could assume she'd keep coming back. Better than nothing. Why couldn't she see it?

"I'm sorry," I eventually forced out, "You don't seem to see that he's playing you along. Perhaps you don't want to see. You told me you wanted to revive our marriage. That you still feel married to me. Is that what married women do, go off for the night with another man? What you're doing isn't exactly helping."

She flared. "It's not like that and you know it. He's been my man for over a year. You know damned well that I'd not even look at him if all this hadn't happened. I'm sorry Allan," she said in a resigned tone, "but I just have to do this. I couldn't forgive myself if he committed suicide."

"Well," I snapped, getting up and moving to the door, "It seems to me that no matter what you say, I no longer figure in your real intentions. You take his side every time, which as I've said often enough implies that I'm a liar. Now I find I'm baby-sitting while you go off with him for the night. I don't seem to be getting any loyalty from you. I wonder if you were ever loyal or true to me."

I left the room before she could answer. I put my things together and waited in the bedroom for Jenny and Greta, who arrived ten minutes later.

I clattered down the stairs.

"Good party?" I asked Greta, and got a tired nod.

"Come on," I said to Jenny, "We're leaving."

Jenny gave me a quizzical look, but followed me out. Ann was nowhere to be seen. Greta had wandered off to her room.

As we drove I was full of tension. Jenny felt it.

"She stayed the night with him," I stated. 

"Oh." No more. Jenny always knew when to talk and when to keep quiet.

At the flat car park I rested my head on the steering wheel. 

"Jenny, I don't understand what's happening here. I think she was having an affair with Fanshaw long before he tried to murder me. Perhaps she was in on it. One minute she's assuring me so earnestly that she wants me back, that she feels married to me still, then she gets me to baby-sit while she spends the night with him. 

"I think we ought to make a clean break. She lives there with the children, Derek won't be around long. I get visitation rights. This pseudo-friendship thing just isn't working. She can't believe he's guilty? It's just not possible with the evidence. I think she's as big a liar as he is. She's stringing me along so she's got someone when he's banged up for years." 

"She could have been taken in," Jenny said gently. "He seems to be able to put on a good act."

"There's more evidence Jenny."

"What?"

"His accounts show beyond doubt he was the one who paid for the attempted murder. Not only that but I'm sure he thought I was dead when he forged that letter, otherwise I could have turned up, like I have, and made him the liar that he is,"

"Has he admitted he forged the letter?"

"I don't know, but it hasn't made any difference to Ann. She's firmly on his side. I'm out of it."

She hugged me and took me up to the flat, where she undressed herself first and then me, and took me to bed. She cradled my head on her breast and rocked me gently, and I found myself crying. I think it was the constant strain and pressure. It was too much.

She hummed a gentle tune, and I fell asleep.

The next thing I knew was awaking to find myself alone in the bed, and wondering where I was, and what time or day it was. Thus disorientated, I became aware of Jenny's voice coming from the living room, muffled by the closed door. The words were not recognisable but the tone was. She was angry and she was complaining bitterly to someone. Her voice rose and fell with pauses while whoever was on the other end responded. 

The rain was beating on the window. I looked at my watch; it was three fifteen in the afternoon, and the weather had changed from a quiet sunny morning to a stormy afternoon. I got up and went to the bathroom. When I emerged, Jenny was standing waiting for me. Her face was flushed and she was not a happy bunny.

"Are you OK?" she asked. I nodded.

"I'm off out for an hour or so. Can I borrow your car?" she asked. I nodded.

"I'll be back soon," she finished, as she put of her coat against the rain, and picked up an umbrella which she brandished at me in a mute request to use it. I nodded.

She smiled, hugged and kissed me. "Love you!" she whispered. I nodded.

"Love you too." I said, and she was off. I could hear her heels tapping hurriedly down the stairs. She rarely used the lift.

I wandered into the living room, and into the kitchen area, to find a pot of freshly made tea. I sat and cupped the mug in my hands, looking out at the windswept scene outside. I felt exhausted, and merely replayed the events of the past hours. 

I decided it was no use sitting doing nothing, and getting nowhere with any explanation of what had happened. I was hungry and cut some bread, got out some Stilton and some green salad.

Thus fortified, I got out the lease proposals for the factory and studied them, trying to find a place where we could compromise and get a reasonable deal. We needed at least ten years. They wanted a minimum of twenty. Fifteen with an option to escape without too high a penalty should be possible.

I got lost in the detail and the ringing of the doorbell surprised me. David stood at the door.

"Jenny's been round to see us. She's taken the car back to her place and will pick you up at eight tomorrow. If you need the car, call her mobile and she'll bring it back. How about a drink?"

I realised immediately that was exactly what I wanted!

Settled in the lounge bar of the Cross Keys with a pint of the monthly guest bitter in front of us, David began to talk.

"Bit of a mess," he said.

"Yep."

"The women are talking."

"Oh?"

"I was not privy to what transpired"

" 'Privy' and 'transpired' -- not lost your way with words then."

He ignored the jibe. "Jenny phones Viv. I get half the conversation. Greta had phoned her. Ann is a basket case."

"'Basket case' -- still the wordsmith," I commented. 

He grinned. "I gathered Jenny calmed Greta down. I understand that Ann got you to baby-sit while she spent the night with Derek."

"That's about it."

He shook his head in disbelief, "And she, Ann I mean, can't see why you're upset?"

"Got it in one. I don't think upset is the word for it. I'm not sure there is a word. Perhaps baffled would do. I just can't work out what's going on in her mind."

"Anyway, Jenny then asked to come over. That finished the conversation. I was banished when she arrived. They talked for quite a while, then Viv left to go talk to Ann."

There was a pause while we drank our beer and each of us had our own thoughts. Then he spoke again.

"Allan, do you love Ann?"

"Yes," I replied without thought, "but I don't like her at the moment. I mean I am attracted to her as a woman. I like a good deal of her character, at least I think I do. I want her settled with the children. As I said, I don't understand what she's doing. I love Jenny, and Jenny and I have a real relationship. I don't cheat on my lovers like some apparently do. I don't dump them either."

"OK," he replied, the implication of what I said being clear to him, and we lapsed back into silence.

"David," I said, "I'm getting more and more certain that Ann and Derek had an affair before I disappeared. It's the only way I can explain her choice of him over me. I heard from some people that Derek's divorce involved a married woman with children who he was meeting during the day on a regular basis, while the husband was at work. Come on, David, do you know anything about that?"

David looked uncomfortable. At length he straightened up, having made up his mind.

"I'll be straight with you, Allan, I followed the divorce, and so did you. Derek's wife had evidence of his cheating in the form of a PI's report and photo's. She threatened to publish them unless he gave her a divorce and a swingeing settlement. 

"It crippled him, but he did what she required to protect his lover. I've never heard or seen anything to make me think Ann was the woman; as Viv keeps saying, Ann worshipped the ground you walked on. 

"It really is true she did go completely to pieces when you disappeared, Derek was very much in evidence then of course, but she only showed any interest in him as far as we could see, after she got the forged letter. 

"Look, the only way you're going to find the answer to your uncertainty is to go and see Stephanie Fanshaw. I'll find her address for you. I'm absolutely sure when you talk to her, that you'll find your suspicions are groundless."

"I hope so David, I really do. Thanks for all you're doing for me."

"What are friends for?" he said with a gentle smile.

We left the pub together. He dropped me off at the flat.



The Way Back Ch. 08



THIRTY-SEVEN

From Monday to Wednesday everything else but the new building was shelved. It was stressful and tiring. Jenny phoned Ann and told her I would not be around until the contract was signed. Jenny and I ate out each evening and then we'd separate to our own flats to fall into bed exhausted.

On Wednesday afternoon the contracts were signed and we were the proud possessors of a two hundred per cent increase of floor area.

That night Jenny came back to my flat and we cooked a meal between us, and then stripped off and showered together before getting into bed half dry and celebrating success. There was plenty of sucking. I sucked and licked her until she was shouting her release and then she sucked me and I repeated the uncoordinated yelps and shouts. She swallowed. Then we fell asleep.

On waking we repeated the exercise though this time our orgasms came from old-fashioned missionary penetration and reciprocated pistoning. Then we lay still together closely entwined until we agreed we really ought to go into work. Late.

When we arrived, Geoff told us there would be a party after work on Friday for all the workforce who could attend. He had booked the upper room of the Cross Keys for seven thirty, and ordered an extensive buffet. A good move, I thought.

"Wives, husbands and girl- and boy-friends will be invited, and their offspring," Geoff said. "Susan is coming and so is David and Viv. Why don't you invite Ann and the children? After all they are part of all this."

"Good idea," said Jenny. "Ann must have been feeling quite cut off from this side of her life."

I saw the wisdom of it and agreed and we went back to my office. Where I phoned her, and after she had accepted with pleasure she made a request rather tentatively. 

"Allan it's the children's half-term next week. You always used to work from home and look after them. Can you do that next week?"

I was delighted. What an opportunity to get closer to my kids after so long away!

"Brilliant idea," I enthused. "See you all on Friday evening."

"Oh," she sounded disappointed.

"What's the matter?"

"Well I know we had a problem last weekend, but you haven't been here for tea since then, yes I know you were all busy, but the children have been asking after you." 

I thought about it. "Jenny might like to come as well," I said, "All right with you?"

"Yes, that's fine," she said, but I could tell by her tone it wasn't quite what she wanted. I smiled to myself. Two could flaunt their lovers as well as one!

Jenny looked a little thoughtful, but agreed to come.

I was thumbing through the paper over lunch when I saw an advert for last minute holidays in Wales. One of the offers was at a holiday complex at the coast, but in a wooded area. Lots of activities for children: sailing, outward bound, abseiling, football, horse-riding, all that sort of thing as well as having a private beach; accommodation in wooden cabins. Just the thing for the children and for me. 

Time for me to think and get things straight. Time also for Jenny to go solo in sales and contracts without me to tweak them. I said as much to Geoff who said that I needed a holiday, and that Jenny would be fine. I didn't doubt it.

I phoned Ann and put it to her. There was a pause and she said she would ask them. She thought Greta would welcome a break now her exams were over. I booked the week's holiday provisionally.

Needless to say the lads were exultant and Greta looked happy when Jenny and I arrived. In the evening Jenny continued to get on with Ann and this meant that Ann and I did not have to interact much which was a relief for me. Jenny went back to her place that evening.

It was gratifying that there was a good turn-out for the party. It was not compulsory but the majority turned up, some with partners and some with children as well. Geoff had laid on a children's entertainer in an adjoining room; a clever idea.

I had a great time circulating and was surprised at the number of girls from the shop floor who flirted outrageously with me. I flirted back but more gently. I could see Jenny's raised eyebrows from time to time but she was grinning.

"You see why I wanted to keep our relationship quiet?" she said when she caught me for a moment. 

I saw.

I ended up chatting with David while Viv was deep in conversation with Ann, which she followed with a three-way chat with Susan and Ann. Greta seemed to be having a good time chatting to a couple of teenaged lads. I lost Ann for a while but caught Viv and Susan talking quite seriously with Jenny. I wondered what was going on, but then was caught in conversation with one of the research bods who managed to bore me with a couple of really good ideas.

Geoff made a good speech celebrating our communal success and mentioning how much I had contributed in effort; he did mention my investment but vaguely. It went well, the food was good and the dancing followed. I danced if that was the word, some of the slow dances, some with Viv, Susan and Jenny, and some with a few of the flirty shop floor girls. 

As the evening drew to a close I noticed Greta deep in the arms of one of the boys she had been talking to. Seeing how they were together, her arms round his neck and his on her waist, straying over her bottom from time to time, and their occasional kissing was a stark reminder she was now a young woman. We have to let go of our children, I knew that, but it was not easy, especially since I had missed three important teenage years of her life.

Jenny was waiting back at the flat.

"I won't see you for a whole week," she said, and stayed the night, strenuously and warmly affectionate.

I did one thing, feeling guilty about it, before I left with the children. I asked Keith to keep an eye on Ann. With me out of the way, I surmised it might tell me something about her. He promised to give me a report.

The week's holiday was a great success. In my condition I was not able to take part in the lads' activities but they seemed not to notice. Greta found two other girls about her age and they spent most of the time together. She did invite me to go horse-riding one day, and I noticed that the girls had acquired a couple of boys. Not at all surprising, all three girls were very pretty.

So I was left to myself most days and spent the time at the gym which was very well appointed. I was amused at the looks on the trainers' faces when the man with a limp and a stick raced round the weights and the cross-trainers. 

At the cabin, on its porch on sunny days and inside when it rained, I caught up on reading a number of novels I had been promising myself for weeks, and on entering on my laptop the accumulated dictated diary notes for the previous few weeks. I had continued to recite each day's events into my recorder ever since Trish suggested it. and from time to time remembered to transfer the entries into my laptop diary, though I had been lax of late. It had the effect of crystallising my thoughts and ideas about Ann and Derek and the situation in which I found myself.

In the evenings we played board games or watched DVDs of various films. We ate at the restaurant some evenings, which gave me a break. 

On the journey back home, our car contained four very satisfied and contented people. I in particular had found that we had bonded more closely than before. Stef in particular had grown very close to me.

It was Jan made a comment without a trace of embarrassment until Greta pointed out what he'd said. 

"You know Dad, if it wasn't for your face it's as if you were never away."

I appreciated that.

And it was Jan, who, as he got out of the car told me how great it was to have me back.

"I just wish..." he said and stopped.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." He said as he turned away, but I thought I knew what the 'nothing' was and I couldn't see it happening.

The lads bounded into Ann's arms, each outdoing the other in telling her what they'd done, and the various proficiency certificates they'd got. Greta hugged her and would wait until later to confide in her. Ann was wrapped up in welcoming the children back so I begged off staying for tea and went back to the flat, promising to get in touch early the following week.

Jenny was not there, but there were signs she had been. The post was neatly placed on the hallway table, apart from that day's, Saturday. I picked it up. There was one manila envelope I recognised: it was from Keith. I decided not to open it yet.

I made a pot of tea, and noted that Jenny had bought in the perishables I would need, not least some milk.

I sat in my armchair and thought over the holiday. More, I thought over my ideas about Derek and Ann. I felt relaxed since I now knew what I must do. 

The only true things I knew were the fidelity of my friends, and of Jenny. Everyone else, Ann and Derek to be precise, could be liars. The contradictory signs made that obvious. One thing negated another. 

Ann herself seemed a tangle of contradictions, and as such was either a guilty liar or totally misguided. Derek protested his innocence and behaved as if wronged but all the evidence pointed to him as the instigator of all my problems. 

It boiled down to the question: were they having an affair before I disappeared? Was their affair the cause of Derek's divorce? If Ann knew she was the cause of Derek's break-up she may well have felt guilty, and that guilt may have contributed to her desolation when I disappeared. 

I could not believe that she was in on the murder plot with Derek, I was a fair judge of behaviour, and she obviously felt a great deal for me even though she seemed to prefer Derek, though even that seemed contradictory. Were her feeble attempts to distance herself from him arising from guilt at her affair?

There was only one thing to do, and this would settle things one way or another. I must see Stephanie Fanshaw. I needed no other information. It was that simple. Nothing would come between me and that objective.

How wrong I was, and how quickly I was to find that out! After my evening meal, I decided to pop to my local pub before the crowds arrived and they got the music playing. A quick beer really appealed after the beer blight of the holiday park.

What I hadn't thought about when Derek was arrested was that I had become news for a short time. My face had been on TV, talking about the case, or rather, not talking about it. Now I was recognisable as myself though I looked nothing like I had before I was attacked.

So that early evening I was walking to the pub, for 'early doors', as we call it. 

"Hey!" a girl's voice, or rather a woman's voice. I stopped. I turned.

Three women were on the opposite side of the road and waving to me.

"Allan Jonsson?" shouted the brunette, I nodded.

They crossed over.

"Allan, don't you remember us?" said the second woman who had really dark hair and a wide smile. The third woman was a mousy brown. They were all about my age, good-looking women but not head-turners. By now they all had big smiles which I liked. It meant they liked me; I can't have been all bad!

I smiled back ruefully and shook my head.

"Sorry ladies, My memory is not too good after this happened," I said touching my face.

The brunette winced and the others immediately looked sad and sympathetic. I liked it even more!

"We were off for a night in town, girl's night out," said the mousy one (by town she meant Manchester even though it's a city). They looked at one another and nodded, "but this is better, come for a drink with us?"

I nodded. I was going anyway; now I had company. Having been with youngsters all week some adult company was welcome. 

Once the drinks were on our table thanks to my generosity, the three sat looking expectantly at me. I looked back.

"What?" I asked.

"You really don't remember us?" said Brunette.

"No," I replied, "You may have noticed I've had some trouble with my head. Memories tend to be stored in here." I tapped my head.

They didn't know whether to grin or look solemn. I grinned, it gave them permission.

"Sorry, but I have to keep telling people this."

They gathered themselves.

"OK," said the Brunette, "I'm Tracey Connor, this is Laura Russell," pointing to the raven haired woman, "and that is Bonnie Truscott." 

We all shook hands over the table. I noticed wedding rings on all three women. I set my recorder running in my pocket.

"Pleased to meet you." I said. "How do you know me? Were we at Manchester?"

They laughed. "Ann was the clever one. We left after 'A' levels."

"You're friends of Ann's?"

"That's right," Tracey answered with a smile, "Laura was bridesmaid at your wedding, don't you remember?"

I shook my head.

"Hasn't she shown you pictures of your wedding?" she persisted, "I mean, to jog your memory?"

"No," I answered, "It may surprise you, but we've not seen very much of each other since the night I gate crashed the pre-wedding party."

"We were at Ann's party the night you ruined it, but we didn't see you then; you were in the other room. You really hit Ann hard. She just came back to us silent and unhappy, and then went home. Not a word. We were all left wondering what to do."

"Sorry about that," I said blithely, "but if she'd talked to me when I asked her to, weeks before, perhaps things would have been different."

"Oh," said Laura, then, "Yes, she was very angry when you came back, of course she didn't know the true story, but that's Ann all over."

I suddenly saw an opportunity. I smiled broadly. "Well, perhaps you can help me."

I gave them a brief account of what happened to me and finished by telling them of my problems with Ann.

"You see," I ended, "though she seems to want to take up where we left off, at least some of the time, I haven't got a full memory of our past life together, so I can't. I don't really know what she's like. I do know she can be stubborn and has a temper. You three know her better than most I think, so what can you tell me about her?"

There was a short puzzled silence while they digested the information.

"Where do we start?" asked Bonnie.

"Well," I suggested, "how about her anger at me, after two years! She was happily settled with another man in her life but she still hit the roof."

There was a look between them that I couldn't read, and Tracey muttered, "He'd never have been enough for her."

But Bonnie cut across her, "What you have to realise Allan, is that Ann has two strong qualities. She has a lot of qualities, but there are two which I think have always dominated her life. The first is loyalty."

"Yes, that's true," said Tracey. "Before you came along, the first time I mean, she went out with lads. She had plenty, being so fit, but she never let them get too close. They weren't getting into her knickers so most of them dumped her. 

"Now she didn't seem all that fussed about that, yes she was upset but got over it quickly. She's the sort that falls for a guy, makes sure of him and then gives herself completely, and none of them kept going long enough for her to trust them. 

"Then there was a lad called Graham. God he was gorgeous, but he was a rat. He played the long game, though I think he was doing some slag on the side. He took her cherry once he'd convinced her that she was the one for him. She was so happy. They were together for about six months; she was deliriously in love and she was totally loyal. He wasn't. 

"We knew he was two-timing her and we told her, but she asked him and when he denied it, she took his side. That was her all over. Loyal to her man. We fell out for quite a while over that."

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "It took quite a while before Laura tricked her into going to a club where she knew he'd be. And there he was necking with some tramp with his hand up her skirt."

"That's where her temper comes in," said Laura, "She stalked over to the table where they were and upended his pint pot over his head before striding out, with me in tow. I got a taxi and we went to my place. She ranted the whole journey until we got inside my flat. 

"Then she broke down. I've seen some girls cry after getting dumped but it was heart-rending, she sobbed for hours. I got her cool cloths and drinks of water. Then I put her to bed and held her hand until she fell asleep.

"Anyway, the next morning she was just very quiet and I tried, well we all tried, to talk about it but she bit our heads off. She simply blotted him out. From then on she was never again her former happy self until you eventually managed to get through to her."

There was a pause.

"She did start dating again," said Tracey, "But none of the guys she went with lasted more than two dates. She was, well, plain nasty to them. She basically had the opinion that all men are rats."

"You mean it hit her harder because she invested so much of herself into the relationship?" I asked.

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Tracey, "She--"

"Hang on!" interrupted Bonnie, "There was one, you remember Tim?"

"Oh yes, Timmy," said Laura. "That brings us to her second quality--"

"Ah, yes," said Bonnie. "Sympathy for the underdog. Yes. I know she slept with him because they were in my flat when they did it."

"He was very depressed," said Laura. "For some reason he had no success with girls and she took him under her wing. I think she knew she had no intention of it being permanent, so she sort of tutored him, and it led to sex."

"Then Graham came back," said Bonnie. "He was full of apologies; really contrite. I think he realised what he was missing and what he'd lost, and the stupid cow took him back!"

"Yeah," said Tracey. "It lasted about a week and she saw him just talking to another girl. That was it. He tried to tell her the girl was just a friend but she would have none of it. That was it. Finish!"

"So there were no more men in her life," said Laura. "She had started at Manchester Uni, and she just blotted everything out but work. Until you came along. She was living at home. Do you remember that?"

I shook my head.

"I'm not surprised," she continued. "She was horrid to you. She went out with you and then dropped you. But you kept coming back and you were so persistent that she let you take her out again. 

"Then she complained that you were no good because you didn't make any moves on her. So she set out to seduce you and failed. She wondered what was wrong with you. She actually asked were you gay!"

"It worked though," said Tracey. "Eventually you broke her down. I remember her coming home in floods of tears. We thought you'd dumped her but it turned out you had been stern with her and told her to stop messing you about. 

"You forced her to talk to you, and apparently you listened while she poured out all this invective about men in general and you in particular. She accused you of insulting her by not making moves on her, you were as much as saying she was not attractive."

"Yes," continued Bonnie. "You told her, and it floored her, that you were serious about relationships and you were not going to make any moves unless there was commitment. What stung her was when you told her she had not shown any signs of commitment to you, because she kept dumping you, and you really did find her devastatingly attractive, but she had to show more loyalty to you."

"That did it," said Laura. "Loyalty. You accused her of lacking in loyalty. She thought she'd lost you, and now of course she wanted you. Then you phoned her and invited her out and she was jumping about with happiness."

The women watched me.

"Thanks," I said. "That helps a lot."

"So are you two going to make a go of it?" asked Laura. She clearly wanted to hear a positive response, a happy ending.

There was no point in sugaring the pill. 

"Sorry, Laura," I said, "I'm with someone else now."




The Way Back Ch. 08



"But--"

I had had enough. I could have trotted the well-tried arguments, but I couldn't be bothered.

"We're divorced, Ann's decision. I'm with someone else. That's it."

It deflated them and before long they made their exit, hugging and kissing me with plenty of affection which was very pleasant. Then I was left to myself.

Unfortunately they had taken up all the quiet time in the pub; someone with a Neanderthal taste in music had fed the music machine and so I retreated in dismay. Back home I had the peace and quiet I needed to think. 

Here was more information. Now I had some background to Ann's and my relationship as well as a little more insight into Ann's character. It clarified her intense anger at me before she knew the truth. 

It clarified why she obstinately persisted in taking Derek's side, and believing him innocent against all the evidence. He was the underdog, he was needy and she went to his aid. 

It also gave some insight into why she was conflicted between me and Derek. She had to be loyal to me; after all we had twenty years of committed marriage, but she also had two or more years of commitment to Derek, or perhaps more if their affair began before Derek's divorce. Our three children balanced his abject need of her, he was another child in effect. It was quite depressing.

While it helped me, this new information still left questions unanswered. I had still not found and talked with Derek's ex. But this wasn't the first distraction. More truths to come.

Jenny had not rung by eleven so I went to bed. 

------ 

THIRTY-EIGHT

On Sunday morning I was reading the paper when the phone rang. It was Keith. 

"Have you read my report?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

I suddenly remembered. "Damn, Keith, I saw it and meant to read it later. Then I forgot. My short term memory still plays up, not very often but enough."

"Well, could you read it now? Shall I come round: I'm in the area? Then we can talk."

"Is it bad, Keith?"

"That's the point, I don't know. It's puzzling."

"What's new? OK, come round."

I opened the envelope. I had felt something of a traitor asking him to check on Ann, but I had to know.

There was a catalogue of activities.

She had gone to see Derek on the Saturday afternoon when I left with the children for Wales. She stayed two hours and then left. 

Nothing on the Sunday. 

Monday she drove to his house and they went for dinner in the Altrincham restaurant where David and I had met them. They went back to his house and kissed quite passionately at the door, before going inside. She stayed all night, leaving early the next morning. 

That evening Derek turned up at the house in Sale. Ann did not seem happy to see him. They argued on the step. She did not let him in. Then he left. 

Wednesday he arrived at her offices and they went to lunch together. He took her back to the office and they kissed long and hard in the car before she entered the offices. Wednesday night she again went to his house and stayed the night. Only one bedroom was used, only one light came on. She could be seen in her bra crossing the window. Then she stopped with her back to the window and was taking it off. Again she left early, kissing him on the step before driving off. 

Thursday night she went to dinner with David and Vivienne, and left hurriedly with a man, not Derek, whom she dropped off on the way. She slept alone that night. Derek arrived late that night and was hammering on the door. She did not answer. He kicked the door and drove off at speed. 

Friday morning he was waiting for her. They argued in the garden for quite a while. She moved to go to her car and he grabbed her arm. She shook him off and was very angry. She drove off and he sat on the ground for a while. He seemed to be weeping. Then he got up and drove away. He seemed broken. 

Friday night she went to David and Vivienne's again. She stayed the night and returned at lunchtime on Saturday, having been to the supermarket. Derek turned up about one o'clock, and they had another argument. Then they stood in silence. She kissed him briefly, turned him by the shoulders, and told him to go. Then he went. He looked dejected.

There the account ended. Keith, or one of his people had done a good job. In all the ambiguity this was truth as far as it went. Yet it seemed the relationship between Derek and Ann was unhappy and even desperate. Freed for a week from children and me, Ann had certainly used the time fully with him. And yet, they had arguments. 

My musings were interrupted by the doorbell and Keith entered.

I offered and he asked for tea. Then we sat together.

"I want to expand on the report," he said. 

"Go on." I said, as we both sat back and relaxed.

"No much to tell. It's nuances really. Easier to talk about than write. What you've got there," he gestured at the report I was holding, "are the facts. But not everything."

"I don't follow."

"Let me work through it. When she left Fanshaw's house that first time on Saturday, she looked worried, concerned. In fact she stopped and turned as if to go back. Then she decided otherwise and went. 

"At the restaurant he looked lovingly at her but she was looking everywhere but at him. He was trying to convince her of something, his gestures during the meal showed he was arguing a point. She did not react or reply as far as I could see. I saw the kiss and she did give as good as she got. One bedroom light, but that doesn't mean much. 

"I wasn't there in the morning but I got a female colleague to get there early. She said that Ann left very early, probably before Derek was awake. She had showered and done her make up, she said. 

"Now here we get into conjecture. My colleague said she could tell by the look on a woman's face if she'd had wild sex all night. They looked, so to say, well fucked -- somehow emanating sexual satisfaction. Ann left like a married woman. She might have been leaving her own flat or house after a good night's sleep. So either she didn't have sex or it was not mind blowing.

"When he turned up at Ann's house my male colleague said she was very surprised, those were the words he used, that Derek should be there at all. She was angry with him, folded her arms and stood in the doorway. He tried to push past her but she wouldn't budge. Nick couldn't hear what they were saying, but her tone was reproach, his tone was pleading. This went on for about half an hour. He was arguing, she was taking it and seemed to be waiting for him to get tired and go, which he eventually did.

"When they got back from lunch on the Wednesday, she did not seem to be repelling him any more. They kissed like lovers do, quite unrestrained. She was quite dishevelled when she got out of the car, straightening her skirt and blouse. She looked worried.

"You see why this can't go in a report, it's too subjective, but don't forget my colleagues and I see many couples in a year. We see their expressions and actions and we've got quite good at reading them."

"I accept that," I said. I poured him another mugful of tea. "Go on."

"That night, she arrived at his house. She let herself in at dinner-time. They had something to eat on their patio. Very relaxed. I watched them. They went in arm in arm. At about eleven, the bedroom light went on, and as I said in the report she crossed in front of the window. She stopped and was taking off her bra. I think she was taking it off for him. It was the way she did it, like a striptease.

"My female colleague said that next morning she left in exactly the same way as previously, except that Derek saw her off at the door. She kissed him on the cheek and left. Again she didn't look as if she'd had a wild night or that she'd even had a good time. In fact she looked a bit drawn, almost sad. She did not wave to him or look back.

"You will have to ask David what happened at the dinner, but she was very upset when she left. She drove home and from the lights in the house she went straight to bed. Then Derek arrived; he was very agitated. He rang the bell, hammered on the door, threw stones at the window. She did not come down, though I'm sure she knew he was there, he made that much noise.

"He did go, but my female colleague arrived at five and he was already there waiting for Ann to come out. When she did he ambushed her. My colleague said it was a classic dumping argument. She had dumped him and he was heart-broken. He was begging her, by turns angry and aggrieved. She told him it was over and he wouldn't accept it. She heard the words as well as the tone of voice this time.

"It seemed that she didn't want to go home that night and took refuge with David and Vivienne. She didn't escape though, he arrived at lunchtime on Saturday. I was there. He argued with her again and she refused to listen. Eventually his shoulders sagged and that was when she took him by the shoulders and kissed him. Then she turned him round and pushed him away. And he went. She began to weep and went indoors. He left in his car.

"So that's it, Allan, We had a conference and we think Ann took the week to finish decisively with Derek. It has all the marks, she led him to it gently, though one of us found her early activities uncertain, as if she kept wanting to finish and then went back on it. It was after David and Vivienne's that she really finished with him, no going back then. 

"Really Allan, it's been like a teenage soap-opera. I think it's finally over between them."

I sat for a while. "Thanks Keith. I still feel bad about spying on her. I don't know why I did it."

"You needed to know whether your ex-wife is still with Derek. You should know why that's important to you. Can't help you there. She's a really beautiful woman and you were very much in love before you went. Who knows but you?"

"Gee thanks," I responded quite sarcastically. "Perhaps she finished with Derek because of this other man."

"Other man?"

"The one she went home with from David's."

"Oh yes," he said. "That's the other thing you need to know. I hesitated to bring it up because it wasn't in the brief and therefore not relevant."

"Yes?"

"That first evening Ann had dinner with David and Vivienne. Your PA, Jennifer, arrived for the evening as well. With a man."

"Oh, that's interesting. I wonder who?"

"Can't help there, Allan. But she arrived with the man who went home with Ann. They arrived by taxi and went up the drive arm in arm, with her head on his arm. At the door they kissed at some length before she rang the bell."

I stared at him. 

"Sorry Allan. I thought you were with her and you should know."

I shook myself. "Thanks Keith, you're a good friend."

"You're welcome."

Jenny arrived at four. She just breezed in as if there was nothing wrong. But there was. She knew I was home Saturday afternoon yet she did not phone to see if I was in. Sunday she arrives mid-afternoon as if that was what we arranged. But we didn't. 

I had heard her key in the lock, and sprang up, grabbing my own keys and the car keys. She came in and I passed her in the hallway. She smiled and went to the bedroom.

"Glad you could make it eventually," I shouted. "Make yourself at home." And I was gone. 

I drove away, not knowing where I was going. As I drove my mobile phone rang. I knew who it was. Too bad. I don't use a mobile when driving, it was not illegal then; it is now, and I'm glad. I drove to David's. The phone rang a number of times then stopped. 

I stopped outside David's. Then I realised I was being childish. I phoned the flat.

"Jenny--" I began.

"Allan," she was crying, "I'm so sorry, I should have phoned you. Please come home. I need to talk with you."

"OK," I said.

I arrived in the flat. She was in her underwear. It was sexy underwear: half-cup lacy bra, lacy boy-shorts, black thigh-highs, and over all a sheer negligee. She was smiling shyly. I was not smiling. Her expression changed to worry.

"What's the matter, darling?" she asked.

"Where've you been?" I asked coldly.

She blushed, saying nothing. I could tell she was uncomfortable standing there in sexy things to turn me on and I wasn't interested and angry.

"I think you'd better get dressed," I snapped.

She stared at me. Opened her mouth to say something then went to the bedroom. I sat down. After a while she emerged fully dressed.

"Well?" I said.

She sat down on the sofa. "It's my uncle."

"What? Has he been at you again? I thought he'd left for good years ago?" The thought struck me; surely he couldn't have taken her to David's?

"Let me tell you, please?" she begged. "On Wednesday Mum phoned me. Uncle John had had a stroke and was in hospital. It was severe, He couldn't speak and he was paralysed down one side, his right. Mum said he wanted to see me. She said it would finally exorcise the demons. So I went yesterday.

"I was terrified going into the ward but I couldn't find him. Then the nurse pointed me to him. Allan, he seemed much smaller than I remembered. Perhaps it was old age I suppose. 

"I just stood by the bed staring. He looked at me and made sounds as if he was trying to talk. His left hand pointed to the bedside chest. There was a piece of paper there. There was one word, obviously written by his left hand; very shaky. It just said 'sorry'. I looked at him and he was crying. He looked so ashamed.

"I can't believe myself but I hugged him and kissed him, and told him I forgave him. Allan, if it hadn't been for you I couldn't have done that. I felt totally free for the first time. He smiled a crooked smile, and still looked guilty, as well he might.  

"I sat with him and told him everything, how he'd damaged me, how I couldn't make relationships until you came along. How the attempted rape in Canada led to you saving me. He listened. Finally he smiled and looked relieved.

"Early this morning, I got a call from the hospital. He'd had a second stroke and hadn't got long. I went to the hospital and joined Mum and Dad round his bed. He was unconscious, but I held his hand and stroked it. About eleven o'clock he gently slipped away. 

"So I went home with Mum and Dad and we talked it through again. They weren't sure what to do about him, we're his only relatives, so I went over the jobs that needed doing, undertaker, death certificate etc."

"Oh," I said. What else could I say?

"Allan, you were angry when I got here. I should have phoned you."

"No, you were too busy. I was miffed that you hadn't called but I jumped to conclusions."

"Why would you do that?" she asked, suddenly worried again.

"Something I found out. I got Keith to keep an eye on Ann over the week. He was watching Ann arrive at David's last Tuesday."

Now she looked guilty, but said nothing.

"Who is he?" I said. It was not really a question, and she knew it.

"Peter, Ann's brother."

"Good bye." I snapped.

"Allan..."

"Goodbye." I repeated.

Again she opened her mouth, then realised it was a bad idea and left.

I was angry, then dejected, then I felt guilty. 

I had enough on my plate, and I thought Jenny was my anchor. Peter! Well, I had pointed her in his direction. In fact he would be good for her and she certainly would be good for him. 

It was the suddenness of the revelation and the fact that by omission she had lied to me. She was seeing him before I went away with the children. I knew that, I had detected that subtle change in her.

Then came the phone call. Susan, Geoff's wife.

"Allan, I have a distraught woman here. What have you done?"

"Ask her."

"Please talk to her, Allan."

"I don't talk to people who lie to me, or who cheat on me. I'm rather sensitive on the matter. When she needed me I gave her what she needed. She knew that I don't do casual relationships and that I'm a little sensitive about being cheated on."

"Allan, she's feeling guilty. Please."

"So she should," then I relented. "If she's fit to drive back here, I'll wait." I disconnected.

-------

THIRTY-NINE

Here was another complication to my life. I had thought that I had at least one secure relationship I could rely on. Now that was coming to an end. There was no way I would stay with Jenny if she'd begun another relationship. 

As with Trish, I always suspected that a time would come when Jenny would need a more compatible lover, in age at least. She deserved to settle down and have children and I was too old to start all that again. No, it was over. The thought depressed me severely. I would have to fight my battles alone from now on.

Jenny let herself into the flat. She entered the room. I could see her eyes were red from crying. I didn't feel very cheerful myself. She sat down opposite me.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I looked at her. "That's a little vague, let me say something before you start explaining yourself."

She nodded, looking wretched.

"Since I returned from the dead to Sale, I've been deceived and lied to. The only people I thought I could trust were David, Colin and Keith, but even more than them, Trish and you. To a certain extent I still feel insecure and uncertain of myself because my memory is only slowly returning, and some things are never going to come back. You knew that. 

"You needed solid support after the abuse you suffered. I gave you that support. If you wanted to count the number of times I've said 'but I'm with Jenny now', you'd run out of fingers and toes. 

"But you're not the only person who needs solid support. I need it too. I relied on you being truthful and honest with me. Now that's been shaken. Let me quote from what Keith told me.

"'They got out of the taxi, and she tucked her arm in his as they walked up the drive, her head on his shoulder. At the door they kissed long and hard before she rang the bell.'"

Jenny looked aghast. She had not expected such graphic description of her activities. I continued.

"What I want from you now... No, what I need quite desperately from you is the absolute truth with no prevarication or euphemisms and certainly no evasion. I think after what I've done for you it's the least I can expect. Yes?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"So," I said, "Tell me the whole story."

She nodded and steeled herself.

"Please believe me Darling, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant you to find out like this. I was going to tell you when you came back in any case. I was going to talk it through with you.

"It all started when he came round with Ann that Sunday. We had to make ourselves scarce while you two talked, and so we were together for quite a while. He was very shy, but by the end of the time he'd got more confidence and by then I knew he was a really nice man. A real man not a wimp, he kept looking me over though I affected not to notice. I was attracted to him. I gave him my phone number and he gave me his. He looked so happy!

"Well he rang me and we went out for a meal one night when I didn't come round to you."

"When you were 'doing your washing' or 'going out with friends.'" I snapped. She coloured up.

"Yes, you're right. It was wrong to lie like that. I don't want to justify it. I think I felt it was wrong to be with him at all and I didn't want to hurt you. He was nice to talk to and you were immersed in the Derek business. That's no excuse I know.

"Anyway we got to meeting a few times and then he told me he was falling in love with me. I think I was shocked because it brought it home to me that I was beginning to feel the same way. I looked forward to the next time I could be with him, but I felt I owed you my loyalty after all you'd done so I didn't tell you. Sorry. I should have."

"So all we've had is what you 'owed' me?" I asked.

"No Allan, don't be silly," she said, quite calmly now. "I love you very much and I always will. I've kept Peter at arm's length but gradually we've become closer. We kiss. We walk hand in hand. He puts his arm round me. We talk together for hours. 




The Way Back Ch. 08



"But Allan, this is important. There's been no sex between us. Beyond what I've said, and the kissing, there's been none. I've not allowed it. He's tried making moves but I've put him off, you have always had sole rights to my body. He's respected that."

"I noticed, you know. When we made love, afterwards you'd be off somewhere else. He would be in your thoughts. I think you were wondering what making love would be like with him, while all the while lying in my arms. Or perhaps how you were going to dump me."

She looked embarrassed. "Was it that obvious?"

"Not obvious; I didn't know then what the cause was, but there was a sense in which you'd left me. I knew that."

She sniffed unhappily.

"You said you were going to tell me about your relationship, now, when I got back?" I asked.

"Yes." She said, looking me in the eyes.

"What made you decide?"

"It was the conversation or rather the argument at the Lombards'. Ann, she's been seeing Derek."

"I know."

"Oh yes. You had her followed. Anyway, the women ended up in the kitchen, and the men in the living room. Vivienne laid into her about her and Derek still meeting. She accused her of disloyalty to you. Ann retorted that you weren't available and in any case, you hadn't shown any interest in her because we were together. Viv said that wouldn't be so for long, because Peter and I were getting on so well. Viv had asked me to bring him along that night. I didn't know where to put myself. 

"Then Viv started on me. She said that Peter was a better long-term bet, apart from the age difference, and I did want children didn't I? And in any case it wasn't fair to you or to Ann that you were staying with me. I should finish with you and take up with Peter. I was angry. No I was livid. Vivienne's heart is warm but she meddles.

"She realised, I think, she'd gone too far but she told Ann that there was no chance of getting back with you if she kept on with Derek. She said that if she wanted a chance with you she should finish completely with Derek. There was no choice; Ann would have to take a chance that you would come back to her. 

"As long as Ann supported Derek she was insulting you. Derek had brought it on himself. If she couldn't see how guilty he was she must love him more than you. That hurt. She burst out crying and ran out. Peter went after her, and they drove away together. 

"That's when I realised how unfaithful I'd been to you. I had to tell you. Then Uncle John was ill, and... well you know the rest."

"So," I said after a pause to let it all sink in, "It looks as if you've been set up. I wondered why Ann brought Peter that night; she was quite capable of driving. She was not distraught; in fact she was very calm. She hardly noticed him while they were here. I wonder what or who gave her the idea of bringing Peter? I'll bet it was Viv. When you were together at the office party what was going on then?"

Jenny looked surprised; the cogs were turning in her brain. 

"Oh, God, I have been set up." She began to parrot what Viv and Ann were saying in a sing-song voice. 

"'Isn't Peter with you? Peter's such a good man, isn't he Ann?'" Jenny recited. 

"'He's lovely, but I'm biased. He's so kind, and I think if someone got him over his shyness he'd be a great lover. He's not selfish at all, and he's well endowed.' They both laughed at that! I ask you Allan, what a thing to say of your own brother!"

"Well, as his sister she'll have been in a good position to see his cock!"

She blushed.

"Have you seen it?" I pushed.

"NO!" she was shocked. Then saw my grin, "Oh, you!" she said, and lost her worried look for a moment.

It solidified what I had to do. I hated the idea but it had to be done. Jenny deserved Peter. I'd had a great gift in her, but the relationship had too much of the parent/child about it. I'd realised that but selfishly pushed it to the back of my mind. Jenny was now comfortable with her self and her sexuality, she was sexy and sensuous. The time had arrived to move on and let go. 

"Well even though you may have been set up, it's turned out very well for you, I think. Peter will be good for you and you for him. So Jenny, It's time to say goodbye as lovers."

"What do you mean?" she looked worried.

I looked at her. She's intelligent and she saw the implication in my look.

"No way!" she actually shouted. "I'm not going to be pushed around by Ann, or Viv, or anyone else! I stay with you."

"No you don't," I said with some patience. "Look, it doesn't matter that you were set up for other motives, it's landed you with a man you can really fall in love with. Don't pass that up. I saw him look at you the first time you met at the house the day after I ruined Ann's wedding, and I saw the way you looked at him."

"But what about you?" 

"Our relationship has been a good one but you know it was always temporary, don't you? We've only been together for a couple of months. We both know that break-up time is always too early, but it's really time for you to go. Start afresh."

"But You?" she repeated with some force.

"I've got plenty to keep me busy. I have to live my own life too. I don't know where it's going, but I have to live it with what I've got."

"Allan, my darling. Not yet. Please?"

"Jenny, you deceived me."

"Please Allan. I won't do that again."

"So what do you want, Jenny?"

"I want you for a little longer. I need your love. Just for a while? Please?"

I thought. She had not had sex with Peter. Any sort of sex. She had kept her relationship with him from me to protect me in her eyes. OK. I knew what to do. I didn't need to send her away just yet. Selfish? Indeed yes!

"I have conditions," I said. 

She sat forward. 

"Peter fancies you. He'll try to get together with you; even if he feels he was set up you're too good a proposition to pass up. My first condition is that you stay open to a full relationship with him." 

She frowned. 

"Come on Jenny, you fancy him like mad."

She hesitated, then nodded.

"Second condition. You let things take their course. You don't hold off when you feel ready to take your relationship onto a sexual level. When the first sexual act of any sort happens, you finish with me at that point and commit to him. I will not share you and neither should he have to share you. You must promise me this."

She thought about it in her turn. Then she repeated the conditions to be sure she understood. Then she agreed. 

"Allan, we love each other, don't we? Why do this?"

"You have the chance of a balanced relationship and you have to take it. Our relationship is good but there is an age difference, and you have been relying on me rather more than is healthy for a balanced relationship. You don't need that sort of support any more. You're free."

"So can I stay tonight? We sleep together?"

"Of course. Until you go to him sexually we can carry on as before." 

I didn't think that would be for long.

The conversation was surreal. I felt it. We undressed in the bedroom and got into bed, but there was a sense of unease, a distance between us. She launched into a flurry of kisses, and grabbed my cock, which was quiescent, and went down on me, sucking me into her mouth. I pushed her away. She was crying.

"Jenny, Jenny! Relax. Do you love me?"

She nodded, the tears running down her cheeks.

"I love you. Love means making each other happy, long term. We are together until you want to go to Peter. Relax. Just lie here with me. Hug me."

I felt her muscles relax. She cuddled up and we kissed much more gently. Then, slowly, we began to stroke each other, almost idly. Kissed again and stroked again. My fingers strayed to her sex and once again idly ran gently up and down her cleft. She began to writhe slowly in time to my rhythmical movements. Soon she was showing signs of impending orgasm, panting and moaning. I continued in the same rhythm until she crested with a cry, and eventually relaxed completely.

Now at last she felt as if she was truly at ease again, at least while the post-orgasmic haze continued, and before she came fully down, she fell asleep.

We overslept on Monday morning, Jenny was apologising all through breakfast that she had gone to sleep without satisfying me until I shouted at her to give it up.

"I will tonight!" she reposted and giggled with a really dirty laugh, before she left to do her duty by her deceased abuser.

------ 

FORTY

I went to work. I pottered for much of the morning, and after lunch I phoned Viv and told her in no uncertain terms that I was thoroughly sick of her meddling in my life and that I did not want to see her in the near future. She began her usual 'only trying to help' and her espousal of Ann as my obvious partner now that Jenny was not on the scene. I hung up.

I phoned David, telling him what I said, why I said it, and her response.

"O hell!" he exclaimed. "I try to stop her but she insists on trying to help people along the way she thinks they ought to travel when they just need to be left alone. I take it we are OK for Friday, meeting of the four?"

"Yes. Nothing against you, old friend. Any luck with Stephanie Fanshaw's address?"

"Not as yet but I'll have it by Friday. Jenny told you about the high jinks last week?"

"I heard. Do you understand Ann's actions? I don't."

"No," he said. "She certainly isn't going about it the right way if she wants you to try again with her." 

He paused. "Is this prohibition thing with Viv permanent?"

"Of course not!" I laughed. "But she's got to learn that I live my own life and I resent deeply her attempts, successful in this case, to take my girl-friends away from me."

"So Jenny's going with Peter?"

"Yep!"

"How d'you feel about that?"

"Haven't had time to think about it, but we've only been together for about two months and it was always on the cards. It's been good. Now it's drawing to a close."

"Sorry Allan."

"Don't be. I've had two fabulous girls who've helped me over the worst of my disabilities, not least my own self-confidence. Now it'll do me good to spend some time on my own." 

I must have sounded upbeat. I didn't feel that way. There would be time to think back over the past year, and there was going to be the problem of Jenny in the office. How would we cope working together when she started going with Peter?

When I got home to the flat, Jenny was already there cooking our evening meal, some wonderful Italian thing. Afterwards we sat together on the sofa. 

"OK, I suppose," she said in response to my question about her day. "I fought the temptation to put 'Blackmailer and Rapist' under 'Occupation' on the death certificate." She laughed.

"You're really free of him and his effect on you, aren't you?"

"Thanks to you, my love." She said and took my arm, snuggling into me.

"And free now to begin a new relationship on your terms," I stated quietly and peacefully.

She was silent.

"You are, you know," I persisted.

"I'm afraid," she said. I waited.

"With you I know I'm safe, but Peter..." 

"Jenny, my love," I whispered, "You know what everyone says about him and you've sat and talked with him. He's made moves on you so he's got some hot blood under that shy exterior. You know the saying, 'a ship is safe in harbour, but that's not what it's for'."

"But will it work?"

"Good heavens, girl, no one knows that at the beginning. You work at it. You know that."

"What about Ann?"

"What about her?" I asked ingenuously.

"Well, you and she--"

"No chance. At least not for the foreseeable future."

"But Viv said--"

"Yes, Viv said that if you left me, I'd go back to Ann. As you said, Viv is a meddler and she's wrong. She's been working to get you away from me for weeks. She's succeeded."

There was a silence.

"As I said before," I said patiently. "Just because she's manipulated you doesn't mean Peter isn't right for you."

"OK," She said, suddenly sounding at ease. She was always like that, once her mind was made up, previous misgivings were abolished.

We kissed, lightly and lovingly, looking into each other's eyes and seeing only love. We kissed again and this time her eyes closed, and shortly afterwards so did mine. There was no hurry and the urgency of our stroking and caresses was allowed to build and decrease gradually, with pauses in between when we simply sat entwined around each other. Soon I was lying on the sofa and she was leaning over me.

She sat up and grasping the hem of her tee-shirt gradually lifted the garment off and over her head. There is a moment in such an action when the woman's face is buried inside the shirt and her body is on show. She cannot see anything and it makes her feel sexy and at the same time vulnerable. She left it like that for a moment or two, as if to show her absolute trust, before lifting it clear and dropping it on the floor. She was smiling. She knew what she had done and what she was about to do.

The bra was pale lime green lace, pushing up her cleavage. I stared and she looked smug as she caught the direction of my gaze. She stood and I sat up. She undid the clasp on her slacks and slowly pushed down the zip. The slacks made their journey to the floor, to reveal matching lime green lace shorts. She picked up the slacks and, turning away, folded them and placed them on the chair, quite conscious that she was showing the lower part of her bottom, the cheeks peeping from beneath the lace, and her cleft tantalisingly half-hidden by such flimsy fabric.

I made as if to stand but she pushed me down, kneeling before me and slowly opening my shirt one button at the time. She was smiling, pushing the garment off my shoulders and tracing her fingers over my chest, caressing my scars as she loved to do. 

Then she unzipped my trousers, fishing out my hard cock through the slit in my boxers. I raised my hips so she could take both off, which she did. She pulled me to the edge of the sofa and pushing my legs apart, coming between them and bending forward to take my hardness into her mouth.

She had a strong gag reflex and so never took me completely into her mouth but the combination of mouth and hands was always enough for me. Her tongue did its magic on the underside of my cock's head; her mouth, closing over the head and gently squeezing it against the roof of her mouth made me sigh with pleasure while her fingers delved between my thighs and stroked with the lightest of touches my anus and perineum. My eyes were filled with the view of her almost covered upward thrusting breasts as she pulled her mouth almost off my cock, and of her wonderful back with the deep valley of her spine, as she sank back onto it.

It did not take me long. 

"I'm coming," I groaned. It made no difference. She continued nodding her head over my organ with unchanging regularity until I cried out with the intensity of it, and ejaculated into her mouth.

Knowing how sensitive I immediately become after orgasm she softened her grip on the head of my cock, allowing her mouth to become slack and some of my semen to escape. She swallowed, and licked round her mouth.

She sat back on her haunches, looking smug. I smiled a smile of replete satisfaction and then she leant forward and rested her cheek on my thigh, playing with my wilting cock, while I stroked her hair and her back, enjoying the sight of its nakedness and her barely clothed buttocks, and the feel of her pert breasts still enclosed in the bra. She looked and felt more naked than if she had shed them earlier.

At length I stirred. "My turn," I suggested. 

"You had your turn last night," she murmured against my thigh.

"By hand. I have other plans now."

"Your friend down here is asleep." 

"I still have plans," and I moved her. 

"On the sofa," I said and arranged her on its edge, with me this time on the floor, my face level with her crotch. I slipped my hands each side of her knickers and gently began to pull downwards; she lifted herself to help me.

Pulling down a woman's panties is an intensely erotic act. It opens her up to be taken sexually, and by agreeing to remove them, she agrees implicitly to have her inner self penetrated by her partner. So it is best done slowly and relished by both partners.

I felt the fabric resisting and then acquiescing to my insistence, and then the gradual revelation of her pudenda, that secret place where only true lovers should be admitted. The movement continued down over her thighs, her eyes closing as she felt them leaving her unprotected and displayed. Then they were gone.

I knew Jenny loved to be teased, and spread her legs wide as she lay back, her vulva over the edge of the sofa. Now I had the leisure and was in a relaxed position to pleasure her all night if necessary. So fingers, palms, lips, teeth and tongue were all brought into play as I tantalisingly licked and nibbled the outer lips of her sex, while fingers strayed so lightly over her anus, her perineum and the horizontal creases of her bottom.

She knew the routine, and kept as still as she could, the longer to enjoy those sensations. She knew that eventually she would lose control and begin to undulate those hips in an invitation to go within the folds of her beautiful sex. There were sighs and little high-pitched sounds and indeed before long she began to move.

I spread her outer lips with fingers, allowing my tongue to travel so slowly over her inner lips, up and down each side. Any lover pleasuring a woman knows to avoid the clitoris as long as possible, and knows also not to plunder her vagina with rough fingers until it is quite clear she is begging wordlessly to be thus invaded. So the tongue's journey was along the inner and outer lips, and perineum to her anus and back, occasionally brushing the centre but lifting before reaching the clit or her hole. 

Soon her hips were moving urgently. She knew better than to try to push my head into her furrow. I would immediately stop until she removed her hands. But I knew and she knew that there would come a moment when she wouldn't be able to stop herself. 

She touched my head, the lightest touch. I stopped. 

"Please!" she groaned, "Please Allan!"

I began what she knew would be my tongue's first touch on her clit. I began at her anus, while reaching a hand up to her breasts, only to find she was there before me, and was mauling them herself. Now she was completely out of control, grunting and moaning and writhing. My tongue crept more and more slowly, until I reached the spot I where I could feel the root of her little organ, when I stopped.

"Argh!" she cried in abject frustration. I swept over it. She came with a howl, bucking and crying out. Another sweep and another violent reaction. Then gently two fingers into her wide-open tunnel. 

At this her hands were pulling me upwards. I was hard again. She grabbed my buttocks and pulled me towards her. I lifted her legs over my shoulders and her fingers grasped my tool, guiding it to the opening and then pulling me into her. Now was the time to thrust hard and fast, my balls bouncing against her buttocks. She grunted and groaned her encouragement, wanting it harder and faster until she began to cry out as a second orgasm took her.

"Keep going damn you! Don't stop!" So I teased her by stopping in mid thrust, "Please don't DO that!" as she pushed herself up and down to keep me going. I obliged until she once again crested and gradually began to come down. I had not come.

"Let me lie down," she said, and I disengaged. She lay on the sofa and opened her legs wide for me, one against the sofa back and the other dangling onto the floor. 

"Do me gently." She said languidly, and I pushed into her. She smiled as I gently stroked in her for some minutes. 

"OK, my love," she whispered, "Get yourself off." 




The Way Back Ch. 08



I speeded up but kept it gentle. As I felt my orgasm arriving, I slowed and let it subside, then brought myself to the edge again, before backing off. A look of mischief flashed across her face, as she realised what I was doing, and saw how near I was. She tried some thrusting of her own, which I dampened allowing my full weight to rest on her. She capitulated, smiling and lying still.

But I couldn't hold out and began to work harder, making deeper and deeper strokes until I was over the edge and into that wordless imageless ecstasy, totally lost to the world. 

Except that soon I could hear her.

"Keep going!" she cried urgently, so I did my best and she came again. Not mind-blowing but comfortable she told me later.

So at that we both relaxed, feeling exhausted. She moved over to the edge, allowing me to lie down on my back and enfold her in my arms. She picked up the radio remote and found some quiet music. There was nothing to say. Life was perfect at that moment, that half-hour, cuddled together.

Strangely, timeless moments end and we had to return to cold reality, as we prepared for the next day, and then sat and drank some wine before going arm in arm to bed. Did we make love again? You must be joking! I was forty odd years old, and no super-stud. Jenny assured me she was sated; so in bed it was some time in each other's arms with some kisses and gentle stroking, then sleep.

At breakfast she looked a little edgy. I thought I knew what it was.

"Seeing Peter tonight?" I hazarded. She looked startled.

"Yes, do you mind?"

"After all we said? Of course I don't mind. Go for it!"

She looked relieved, "I thought after last night..."

"You'll need to train him, you know. You owe those orgasms last night to Trish's training!"

"God bless Trish!" she said, laughing.

All the tension was gone and, I thought, so was Jenny. I felt at peace. I was doing the right thing.

If the tension was gone with Jenny, it soon returned with Ann.

"Are you going to Ann's tonight?" A casual question from Jenny in the office mid-morning.

"Oh God!" I blasphemed. "I said I'd ring to arrange this week."

"Well, you'd better get to it," she retorted. I put my tongue out at her, and she laughed, but I did as I was told.

I rang Ann at work and arranged to go for the evening meal on the next three days. 

However, after I put the phone down the memory of Keith's report and his comments on it returned. The woman was impossible. There was no way I could trust her. I needed time to see Stephanie and get some facts. 

So I arrived on Tuesday in good time for our evening meal which here in the North of England we call 'tea'. In the South they call it 'dinner' or 'supper'.

I parked the car and was making my way to the front door when I saw old Mrs Gregory looking over the fence. We exchanged greetings.

"I'm so glad your family is back here again," she said in her quavering voice, "and even more glad that you have returned, though it's terrible what you've been through."

I didn't enlighten her that we were not quite as together as a family as she thought, and she continued chatting on, my stomach rumbling with hunger, 

"Bill and I used to say you could set your clock by the family's coming and going. You leaving early, the children off to school, and then Ann's brother, or was it cousin, visiting during the day. It's nice to see everyone coming and going again though we haven't seen him since you all got back, but of course Ann's working now."

I was puzzled by her remarks. 

"Her brother you say?" I asked.

"Or her cousin, he had that huge car."

Now I was really puzzled. Peter had a small car, he always said he didn't need a family size car, not having a family. I did not know of any male cousins. 

"Did he visit often?" I asked. "You understand I don't have a very good memory."

"Oh, usually once or twice a week. My! It's getting on for four years ago, isn't it? He was very good, it must have been before Ann started work, when she was at home with the children. Mind you, they were all at school then."

I collected myself rapidly. "D'you think Bill would remember what type of car her cousin drove? I can't place which one it would be." I was praying she wouldn't suggest I ask Ann.

"Won't be a minute." She said and wandered into the house. She was back in no time. 

"He says it was a Bentley, high end of the range he thought, whatever that means."

"Thanks, Mrs Gregory," I said, "I think I know who it was now."

"Bill said he was back yesterday, but in a different car, a black BMW? He didn't stay long."

"Oh great," I said. "It's good to know he looks after her."

My feelings were quite the opposite. I would need to think about that. The cars belonged to Derek. Another piece of the jigsaw that was Ann's behaviour before my 'accident'.

As it happened the children made conversation of any depth between us impossible on all three days I went for tea, the exception being Tuesday when she got me to agree to our first meeting at the flat on the following Sunday. 

The only conversations we managed were as follows. 

On Tuesday: 

"How's Jenny?" She asked.

"Fine. She's out with Peter tonight."

"Oh." A smile of satisfaction.

On Wednesday:

"Things sorted out with Peter?" She asked, after Peter left after talking with me.

"Yes."

"Oh." A questioning look.

On Thursday:

"Seeing Jenny tonight?" She asked.

"Yes," I answered, monotone, but I think my look gave me away.

"Oh." A look I could interpret as sympathetic.

The reason for the question on Wednesday, was that Peter arrived after tea and wanted a word with me. He was not happy. I took him into the Computer room.

"So what is this about?" I asked by way of beginning.

"Don't you think it's time you let Jenny go?" he asked, quite aggressively I thought.

"I wasn't aware she was imprisoned," I answered.

"Don't be flippant Allan, you know what I mean," he said with a frown.

"Peter, she's a free, independent woman. She does what she wants. If she wants to leave me she's free to so."

"You know she feels you depend on her, you need her."

Now there was a surprise; I had thought she was depending on me!

"Peter," I said, becoming exasperated. "Are you saying you want Jenny for yourself?"

He looked embarrassed. "Well yes."

"Well, what's stopping you? I'm not."

"It's not as easy as that and you know it."

"What do I know?"

"Come on Allan, she pities you. It keeps her with you."

That was another new one. Jenny might love me, but pity? I didn't think so.

"Rubbish Peter. Has she told you that?"

"No, but--"

"But nothing. You want her. Go get her. Jenny and I both know our relationship is temporary. Has she told you anything about us?"

"Yes. I know all about her Uncle John, and about Canada."

"Did she say I took advantage of her?"

"Well, no. She said she rather threw herself at you."

"Doesn't sound much like pity to me, or that I'm blackmailing her into staying with me."

There was a silence.

"Peter," I began again. "What's the problem with Jenny?"

"I think you know," he said despondently. "I'm no good with women."

"Not what I heard."

"Eh?"

"I quote: 'They got out of the car and walked arm in arm to the front door, her head on his shoulder. At the door they kissed long and hard before she rang the doorbell.'"

"What? When? How?" 

I stopped him. "Going to David and Vivienne's house last week, while I was safely out of the way? Anything to say about that?"

"Sorry, Allan." He looked guilty and, I thought, scared, "I had no right--"

"For God's sake, Peter, do I look angry, hurt, vengeful? What's up with you? It sounds as if Jenny really likes you, you have a great rapport: you share long talks together."

Another silence. This time I waited.

"All my life I've met girls," he said morosely, "gone out with them, and then when I wanted to go further, I always got the 'I don't fancy you that way, Peter, can't we just be friends?'"

"So you're afraid you'll get the same from Jenny?"

"She's so beautiful," he said wistfully, "she won't want someone like me."

"Peter," I said gently, "learn to read the signs. How does she look at you? Respond to your kisses?"

"I tried to go further than, you know, kissing and she told me that while she was with you, she wouldn't be unfaithful to you. So I stopped."

"Did she give you the 'just good friends' routine?"

He looked genuinely enlightened. "No!"

"So she kisses you, hangs on your arm, chats with you for hours, tells you her personal history," I was trying very hard, but he was really thick on this subject. "She doesn't give you the 'good friends' line, and uses the words 'while I'm with Allan,' note that, Peter, 'while'. 

His head jerked up. "You mean?"

"I mean 'faint heart never won fair lady' Peter. What have you got to lose?"

"Are you telling me you and Jenny are finished?"

"I'm not telling you anything, Peter. Go find out for yourself," and I stared at him with a smile.

A smile spread across his face. Boy was he slow!

"Thanks Allan," he breathed, "you were always a good friend. I just wish you and Ann--"

"Enough, Peter," I snapped. "Don't push it." Though I was still smiling as I cut him off. He knew better than to continue.

He left, after shaking me vigorously by the hand.

Well, Jenny, I thought, looks like the end of the line for us.

And it was.

She was pensive all day on Thursday and I knew why, but the office was not the place.

After I returned from Ann's, she arrived at the flat. She sat me down.

"Allan?" she faltered.

"It's time, isn't it?" I said. "You saw Peter last night and now you're with him."

She looked relieved. 

"Yes," she said. "He was like a new man last night. Asked me to be his girlfriend and leave you."

"Good," I said. "About time. He's not had much luck with women, and he doesn't think someone as beautiful as you would look at him twice."

She looked puzzled, "When did he say that?"

"Last night, before he came to you. I told him to give it his best shot. You'll need to keep reassuring him, he'll be very insecure about you. He'll be thinking you'll leave him for the first hunk that crosses your path. Tell him more about your past experiences with men."

She sprang to her feet and I stood up as well, as she flung herself into my arms.

"You lovely man! You set him up, didn't you?"

"Well..." but thankfully I couldn't answer because her lips were on mine.

When we at last parted she looked into my eyes. 

"One last time?" she asked. "Peter and I haven't..."

"I think instead, you should go and have your first time with Peter, don't you?"

"But--"

"Wasn't last time as good as it gets?"

A pause. A shrug. A smile.

"Yes, you're right," she looked sad. "I'll miss you. I'll miss your face and your scars. I'll miss the way you make love."

"Peter will be good for you. You'll have to train him though, he's not had much experience with women, and here I'm talking about sex."

"Thank you Allan." She began to cry. "I'll never forget all you've done for me. If Peter and I make a go of it, he'll owe you a lot as well, I'll see to that!" 

She smiled through her tears.

So that was that. We loaded her few belongings into her car and then after a hug and a chaste kiss, she was gone from my life for ever, or at least from my sexual life.

I read a novel, but kept stopping to think about Jenny and our relationship. It had been good. I felt a sense of satisfaction.

The flat felt empty, though. I had been alone here many times; Jenny did not live there, and was not there every night, but there is a difference between being alone in my flat knowing there was someone out there for me, and being alone with no one. 

I thought it must be how the bereaved must feel as they came to terms with the fact that their loved one would never return, and was not somewhere else and would be coming home one day. This was the first time since I woke up from my coma that I had been truly alone in the world.

I did not feel lonely. I knew I had friends. I thought I might benefit from being alone. It was like another stage in growing up again. I had a family of children who loved me. Life was good, and I hoped Jenny and Peter would be happy together, both of them deserved it. 

With these thoughts I went to bed with a malt whisky and carried on with my novel.

Friday morning I arrived to an empty office. Where was Jenny? Had she resigned? I called Judy and asked her what she knew.

"She's at a funeral today, and won't be in. Didn't she tell you?"

Then I remembered. She had told me. In a sense it was a relief. It put off finding out whether we would be able to work together under these new conditions. 

Any thought of our possible problems were eliminated by an arrival.

"Mr Jonsson," said our young receptionist. "There's a Mr Fanshaw to see you."

Unexpected is a mild description of this event. 

"I'm in a meeting at the moment, but it will be over soon, ask him if he can wait."

He could.

I went to see Geoff. He came back with me. He would be 'working' at Jenny's desk on her computer. We did not discuss why Derek would be coming to see the man he had tried to kill.

"Bring him down, Sally," I said, switching on my recorder, and shortly after there was a knock on the door, and the man I had not seen since the Chamber of Commerce dinner walked into the room.

"Mr Jonsson," he said, all business, and with a hand outstretched. I did not react, and remained seated. He glanced at Geoff, then came back to me, dropping his hand.

"Sit down Derek," I said briskly, "What do you want?"

He began to look uncomfortable, which I took to be guilt but his opening remark put paid to that.

"I'll come straight to the point," he began. "While I'm glad you have recovered from your injuries, you have to realise that Ann has moved on. You are with someone else, but it seems you are keeping Ann from me with these lies about me. 

"So I'm asking you to tell her that I've done nothing to you, let her go and come back to me. She's been happy until you came back but she's got this idea that you're going to take her back."

"Wait a minute Derek," I butted in. "I'm not keeping her anywhere, and I've not made any statements about your guilt."

"I know you have," he said obstinately. "You and Colin Sinnott and David Lambourne, you've all been putting it about that I caused your 'accident.'

"Believe that if you want, Derek, but it's not true."

"But you believe I'm guilty."

"Oh yes, Derek, I believe it, but that's a long way from telling anyone else what my suspicions are. Ann wanted the evidence since no one would tell her. I gave her the evidence, that's all."

"There is no evidence, you know that. It's conjecture."

"I'm not arguing with you Derek; that'll be up to the courts. So what do you want?"

"Ann only feels pity for you and she feels guilty she didn't look harder for you. It's not love; she loves me. She keeps coming back to me but her guilt and pity for you make her go back to you. 

"She was in my bed twice last week while you were away with the kids. Didn't know that did you? She only wants to make up to you for what she sees as her failure. I want you to convince her to leave you and come back to me. She will anyway in time; she needs my tender loving care."

"I don't know what Ann feels," I snapped. "I've not asked her. All she's said to me is that she wants me back. She wants what we had before I disappeared. If she feels pity for anyone, it's you."

At this his face turned puce and he sprang to his feet. "That's another of your damned lies, Jonsson. You want to know something? She wanted me, preferred me, before you disappeared. We were seeing each other for months before. She's always said I had more to offer in the bed department than you ever had. So you're outclassed there. I love her and she'll only be truly happy with me."

He turned and was stalking out of the door.

"So you were having an affair with her before you organised my death?" I said quietly. He stopped, and turned.

"Yes, you poor sod. You didn't have a clue. She got all her sexual jollies from me, while she got her lifestyle from you. Happens all the time."

"Thanks Derek. That's confirmed something else I've suspected. So you're telling me she's lying to me."

"Her problem is she wants to please everyone. Can't be done, and I bet I wasn't the first she's had."

"So why did it take you a year and a half to get her to live with you?"

"She didn't want to queer her pitch if you came back. She knew where the money was coming from."

"So that's why you forged the letter?"

"Yes. She needed a push. It was enough. She was glad she came to me as well, we were a happy family until you came back."

"Well Derek," I said, concluding the meeting, "I'll let you get on your way. No point in her coming back to you though, you're not going to be around much longer, are you?"

"Fuck off!" he snarled and left. 

I switched off the recorder and loaded the contents into my laptop. Geoff looked at me and I looked at him and we both shrugged our shoulders. He went back to his office.

In the evening I met the three and we talked the evening away. Keith did not mention the surveillance of Ann; I did not mention my talk with Derek and mercifully the talk was of politics, sport and finance. David gave me Stephanie's address and phone number as we left and Colin drove me home. There was no news about the court case, he informed me. I was not surprised.

When I got in I consulted the weather forecast and found it would be a grey day but warm and dry. I phoned Ann and asked if there was anything happening with the children. Jan was going to a party in the afternoon, and Stefan was invited out with a friend and his family for the day. Greta was out with a girlfriend. Ann had promised to go shopping with Vivienne in the afternoon.

I said I would go anyway about lunchtime, and once there I set to attacking the garden, which needed attention. It was a good therapeutic afternoon and I went home before Ann returned.

The evening was taken up with an early drink at a local pub, The Swan with Two Nicks. (No, not two necks. Mute swans in England are the property of the Queen, except for those the London Guilds catch and mark with identifying nicks to the feathers). I got into a deep discussion with the landlord about the state of the brewing industry. Then I left later than I intended, because I stayed to listen to the jazz band which provided the live music that night. Then the whisky at home sent me to a deep sleep.

I was woken late Sunday morning by the phone. It was Susan. Had I forgotten I was having Sunday lunch with them? I apologised, and told her I had overslept, and would be there shortly. She laughed and told me I had two hours to get there, she was making sure my memory was working that morning. I told her I was grateful for her foresight and kindness, and she told me not to get lost. 

She met me at the door of their beautiful house in Bowden, kissed me on my lips, hugged me and asked "Are you ok?"

"You heard?"

"Yes. Are you ok?"

"Susan it's been on the cards for a while. She'll be better with Peter; he's just what she needs and even more, she's definitely what he needs."

"But now you've lost two..." here she was lost for the right words.

"Girls?" I prodded laughing. She blushed and was satisfied.

"No talking shop while I'm around, I've told Geoff," she admonished me. 

I nodded sheepishly. Then she let me in!

It was a pleasant day with a hazy sun, and warm. Geoff and I sat on the patio with beers and enjoyed the garden.

Dinner was a happy family affair, the teenage son and daughter appearing for the meal and making me welcome, both of them chatty and humorous, before disappearing immediately after the meal was over to their own rooms. The talk was lively and there was much laughter.




The Way Back Ch. 08



We settled in the living room after the meal, I in an armchair, and the two of them on the sofa. Susan put some quiet music and we rested. It was peaceful, until at length Susan broke the silence and the peace and the relaxation.

"So, Allan, how are things?" she asked, obviously fishing.

I stiffened, sensing where the conversation would lead. 

"Fine."

"See much of Ann and children?"

Now I knew where it was leading.

"Susan," I must have sounded testy, "please don't go down that road."

She looked startled, "What road?"

"Don't play the innocent. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

Geoff was sitting up and trying to signal by a few prods to her midriff that this was forbidden territory.

I continued, "You said no talking shop. Well, for you women my relationship with Ann is shoptalk. Give me a break, please?"

"Sorry," she said, and did look repentant, "It's just that--"

"OK," I interrupted, "One statement. I'm happy for Jenny. I'm at ease with her choice. Now I'm single and I need some time to myself. I'm angry that Ann and Viv conspired to get Jenny away from me so I would go back to Ann. I resent that deeply and I hope you were not a party to it. There is no chance at all that after that treachery I would consider entering a relationship with Ann, and I'm finding evidence that my relationship with Ann before was not as perfect as I have been led to believe. Satisfied now?"

She recoiled, and Geoff looked uncomfortable. 

"How's this going to affect your relationship with Jenny at work?" he asked tentatively. I sensed he was moving the conversation away from Ann.

"I think we wait and see. I love the girl, and I can't see a problem from my side, but I don't know how she'll cope."

"OK, sounds sensible," he said. The diversion was timely, and I now knew he was deflecting attention from Susan. He was being the loving, diplomatic husband. I admired him for it, took my cue from him and changed the subject.

About four, I made my move to leave, the wine having had a chance to work its way through my system. At the door, Geoff said his goodbye and disappeared, leaving me with Susan.

"Allan," she said, "I'm sorry about earlier. It was unfair of me. I knew about their plans for Jenny but said nothing to Geoff because I knew he'd tell you. I'm very sorry, please forgive me."

I held out my arms and she walked into them, hugging me and lifting her face for a kiss.

"Forgiven and forgotten," I said and kissed her lips briefly. 

Being hugged and kissing such a pretty woman had its physical effect and I disengaged gently with a smile before she could feel my body's reaction. A little too late, her knowing smile betrayed her.

"Nice to know I can still have an effect on men!" she whispered.

"Come on Susan, you know you're a fox!" I said, and turned away to go to the car.

"You know you're welcome any time; come for tea sometimes," she said as I reached the car. She was standing draped beautifully against the doorjamb. I assured her I would, making it obvious I was looking her up and down lasciviously. She turned away with an 'Oh you!' gesture and a huge grin and went inside.

I left with a lighter heart, but as I drove closer to home and my meeting with Ann, those feelings evaporated, and confusion re-surfaced. I was not looking forward to it.

------ 

FORTY-ONE

I reckoned I had about two hours before Ann arrived. I changed into tee shirt and jeans and gave the flat a good going over. I had been neglecting it, and frankly it looked a mess. However I realised I was doing it because I felt edgy and nervous. For the same reason I couldn't face anything to eat, though I put out a bowl of cashew nuts, which Susan had told me Ann liked.

I had scarcely finished when the doorbell rang. 

I suddenly thought, look at me, I look a mess. Then, why am I thinking like this? 

I shrugged and went to the door. When I opened it I realised why I had been so worried. Was it something I had been aware of while visiting the house, or was it a memory from before?

She was stunning. No other word for it. My immediate reaction was that it was a bargaining ploy, or an enticement? It was a cynical reaction on my part and I was aware of it as such. It was as if my every nerve ending was sensitised. I recognised the feeling, it was the same one I got as I entered negotiation with a customer. 

She was wearing a light green suit, well-cut jacket and a skirt that came a couple of inches above the knee. Beneath the jacket was a light blouse in a paler green with large pink flowers over. It was open to a point just above where her bra would be. She wore no tights or stockings, and there were a pair of two-inch heel open-toe shoes. Her hair was feather-cut and shaped to her head and her make-up was understated but perfectly toned. This was power dressing to impress without appearing sexy, while emphasising that here was someone who was all woman, and of course she was and is a really beautiful woman.

This appraisal happened in a split second, I held the door wide and she walked in, stopping to put a hand on my shoulder and to kiss my cheek, with a smile.

"Hi, Ann," I said, wondering if she felt as confident as she looked. 

She walked into the living room. "Where shall I sit?" she asked. 

I gestured to the sofa and moved to the armchair.

We sat for a moment gazing at each other. 

"Well?" I asked. It wasn't aggressive, but we had to start somewhere, and she was the one power-dressing, so she could make her sales pitch.

She sat for a long moment, as if unsure how to put it, and when she did speak it was calm, and she held my eyes the whole time.

"Allan, can you guarantee that no matter how ugly our talks get, we'll keep meeting, until we reach some sort of agreed conclusion?"

I thought about it. We were joint parents, and would have to work together for the children. So continuing was essential. I said as much. She smiled faintly and her face became even more beautiful.

"Well, here goes. I loved you for many years before your disappearance, and now you're back I still love you as I did before. It is tearing me apart us living the way we are, and I want you back. I want you living with me. I want you in my bed. I want you to wake up with. 

"I don't care about how you look, enough of our friends have said you worried that I would just have pity on you. It's not like that. I love you, the man. If you were totally incapacitated and I mean totally [she glanced at my crotch and I got the message], I would still want you, and want to look after you. You were always the only one for me, and now I know you're back, there'll be no one else no matter what you decide to do with your life. There, I've said it." 

Then she sat back and with an expressionless face, more than that, a face at peace with herself as she waited for my response.

I felt an immediate flash of anger, no not anger, irritation. So she loved me but seemed to have a peculiar way of showing it. I restrained myself and hoped to remain cool.

"You've just protested your love for me," 

She opened her mouth to speak, but I hushed her, "I listened to you, Ann, now listen to me. You've got all night to reply."

She relaxed back into the seat and gestured to me to continue.

"First. Your behaviour with Viv in getting Jenny away from me was sneaky and underhand. I assume it was her idea for you to bring Peter along last time you came here, but you went along with it. Then there was your combined assault on Jenny herself at the office party. I believe Viv made yet another attack on the age difference and how much more suitable Peter was while your contribution was to extol the size of his cock."

At this Ann began to look guilty, and made another effort to speak. I held up my hand and she once again sank back.

"You split Jenny and me up. That was selfish and hurtful to me, and Jenny was livid when she realised she had been set up. She was all for dumping Peter for good and staying with me. You didn't realise that, did you? You could have ruined it for her and for Peter by your meddling."

This time she did interrupt. "So why are they still together?" she said indignantly.

"You see," I replied, rather sharply, "once again you make me out to be the liar. Getting to be a habit of yours. 

"I convinced her that she shouldn't let Viv and your interference affect a very good relationship. I told her to go to him and to finish our relationship. Yes, he's a better match for her; yes, they're good for each other. That's why I sent her on her way. 

"That doesn't absolve you. What you did was self-seeking and in my view despicable. If you think getting rid of Jenny would make me more likely to come back to you, let me tell you, after your behaviour, the opposite is the case."

Now she looked woebegone. "Allan, I'm sorry. Viv's had this campaign going since she knew about you and Jenny. I'm not trying to excuse myself, I was wrong to follow her advice. I feel a fool."

I ignored her intervention and continued.

"Second. There's your relationship with Derek. That's a big stumbling block for me. There are so many unanswered questions there I don't want to even start. Not tonight, not until I've done a little more research and a little more thinking, but at base I have no intention of getting together with the woman who entered and stayed in a relationship with the man who tried to murder me."

"But, I've finished with him completely. You know that, don't you?" she said urgently. 

"I remember after you came back to the house after your all night stay with him, you said you had finished with him for good, but you were going to help and support him. That's right isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Then explain why you couldn't wait for me to leave with the children on holiday before you were back in his bed."

There was a stunned silence. I let it develop a little before continuing.

"Are you going to give me the famous line, 'It's not what you think?' because it was what I think. Especially the second night, and you did spend the night with him twice, when you did a striptease for him."

"How did you--"

"Ann, I didn't believe you, so I employed Keith's firm to watch you. I was right not to believe you, wasn't I?"

"You had me spied upon?" she was becoming angry.

"Yes, and it's saved me from believing all that crap about you loving only me. Oh, and by the way, Derek came to see me last Friday. He had a lot to say."

"He did what?" Now she was floundering. 

"He told me a lot, and you said yourself that he's absolutely truthful and honest, he would never lie. He told me he wrote the letter, that letter, the one that got you into his bed. He told me a lot more. I assume you'll tell me the same things as our talks proceed?"

She was speechless. Then she shook her head.

"Why did he go to you?" she asked. She looked dazed.

"He wanted me to give you up to him, to let you go. I was keeping you under my spell because of your pity for me and because you felt guilty at being with, what was his phrase? Ah yes, 'the better man.'"

There was another silence. I broke it.

"I think that this is a good time to call a halt for tonight. You can go home and think through what I've told you. In the meantime I have other people to see, to find out if what Derek told me is true, and if it is, we're finished, not that we have ever started."

"Please, Allan," she begged, "tell me what he said!"

"No Ann. Go home and work it out. By the way, I am aware that after sleeping with him on those two nights, you did finish with him. If you want us to talk again you'll not contact him again nor allow him to contact you. However, as you said, you're a free woman; you can and have done what you wanted. It's just the consequences you have to think about."

She stared at me hard. "You hate me, don't you?"

"No, I don't. I'm puzzled by what you've done. I'm confused by you saying one thing and apparently doing another. I'm disappointed, after all everyone has been telling how honest you are. So go. I'll be in touch."

She stood, collected herself and left. I remained seated.

Well, I thought, not very successful. 

I was right.

I got things ready for the next day and got ready for bed. I was reading my novel when the phone rang. It was Ann.

"Allan I'm sorry about tonight. I can see now why you can't or won't come back. Will you come for tea this week?"

"Which day?" I asked, though gently. I could hear she was upset. I didn't need to be vindictive. I had made my point.

"How about Tuesday?"

"OK, see you then."

She disconnected, as if she needed to get away from me.

Ten minutes later David rang.

"Allan," he said. "Would you do me a big favour?"

"Go on."

"Come for dinner tomorrow. I know you're not feeling well disposed to Viv, but please come as a favour to me."

"Why?"

"We need to clear the air. Viv has something to say to you. Please?"

What a sucker I was! 

"OK," I said. I think the resignation in my tone went home. "Time?"

"Six. And Allan?"

"Yes."

"Viv's learned her lesson. No more tricks."

I laughed. I suspected that Ann's call and David's were linked. No more tricks. Was that a flying pig I saw?

The next morning I arrived at the office early and phoned Stephanie Fanshaw. She was at home.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea, Mr Jonsson. Water under the bridge and all that."

"Mrs Fanshaw, there are questions only you can answer. I have limited memory of events close to my disappearance and there are discrepancies between what people, including my ex-wife, are telling me. Some of my so-called friends are lying and I don't know which. I'm begging you to help me."

"Well," she was clearly thinking it through, "I suppose I can look out the stuff from the divorce. It might help. Can you come on Wednesday night, about eight? It's the only evening I have free."

I agreed.

Jenny arrived. She looked radiant and very happy. It made me feel a little better for sending her on her way. She came over to my desk and kissed me.

"Thanks" was all she said.

I knew what she meant. Peter and she had made progress and were now definitely an item, and we were easy with each other.

"Funeral go off all right?" I asked.

"Fine. Peter came with me and met my parents. They like him."

"I'm glad," I said, and I was.

The day went well. Geoff looked apprehensive until he saw us together and then relaxed. We were to go to London for a meeting with an alarm company on the Thursday. They wanted an upgrade to their existing sensors. Not a big job to research and construct, but they had a reputation for driving a hard bargain. We had enough work on to ignore their small job, so we were in a fairly strong position; what's more, we had more experience with that particular type of sensor than any other company.

That evening I arrived at David's by taxi, I was expecting, and even hoping for, peace offerings in the way of copious amounts of single malt whisky.

David welcomed me in, but there was no sign of Viv. I must have cocked an eyebrow (or at least where my eyebrow had been) because he took me into the living room and handed me a whisky. Good start!

"You'll like it," he said, "Highland malt, quite sweet on the nose and round finish. Oh, and Viv will be down in a minute."

I smiled.

"Yes," he said.

Then she arrived.

"Hi, Allan," she greeted me, coming to me for a kiss which we duly exchanged. "Am I forgiven?" she asked.

"It depends whether you have repented," I said, trying to be stern, but she had always been too kind and well meaning to resist for long.

"Allan," she took a breath, "I was so utterly wrong, both in reading the situation between you and Ann, and between you and Jenny, but I was even more wrong in interfering. 

"It could have ended so much more badly than it did. That Jenny and Peter are now together at all is due to you, and that's the third thing I must apologise for, I didn't realise how altruistic you would be about her. I misjudged everything. I'm very sorry."

"Viv," I smiled, "You're forgiven, but please don't try anything else concerning myself and Ann. You know very little about what I'm hearing and learning about Ann and Derek. Please keep clear. OK?"

"I promise," she said.

I hugged her and we kissed again, and she smiled gratefully.

"I'm so relieved," she said. "I'd hate to lose you as a friend."

The meal went well, and it was after we had returned to the living room that I broached one point which I'd forgotten whether David had told me. I'd heard it from the lads at the pub, but needed it confirming.

"I've been given some information about Ann," I stated. "Remind me. When did Ann first meet Derek?"

Silence. David looked uncomfortable.

"David?" I prodded.

"Hang on Allan, I'm trying to think."

He shouted the question to Viv who was making coffee in the kitchen.

"December 1999," she said as she came in from the kitchen. "It was a Christmas party we hosted. I remember because all the talk was about the millennium bug and the crashing of all the computers. You were very dismissive about it, and you were right. You were arguing with Bill Forgisson and Ann got bored, so I introduced her to Derek. They got on very well."

"David, Viv," I said quietly, "Derek's wife divorced him for adultery with a married woman with children, whom he visited during the day when the husband was not at home. You knew that?"

"Well, yes," he mumbled, seeing the connection I was making, "but whoever the woman was, we're sure it wasn't Ann. For God's sake, Allan, anyone could see she was totally loyal to you; you were her life!" 

"Allan," Viv begged, "please don't to jump to conclusions. She was always faithful to you, we're certain of that."

"Were either of you near the house at all during the day?" I asked.

"Well. No."

"Then like me, you don't know," I said doggedly. "By the way, the next door neighbour saw Derek come to the house during the day on average twice a week. Make of that what you will."

Viv returned to the kitchen.

"I haven't made up my mind," I said reflectively. "I have another person to see as you know." 

"Stephanie Fanshaw." He stated.

"That's right. Perhaps she has more information than came out at the divorce. From what I think you told me, Derek paid dearly for keeping the woman's name from coming out. Stephanie Fanshaw obviously knows who it was, and that will either acquit or condemn Ann."

Viv had heard as she brought in the coffee and looked worried.

"Viv," I said sharply, "don't go worrying Ann with that information. You gave me a promise when I arrived. I expect you to keep it,"

She started, than nodded. "It's all right, Allan, from now on what you do with Ann is solely your concern."

The evening went well and I left with friendship restored and intact.

It doesn't surprise most couples with children that they don't have time to talk about much beyond practicalities. My visit the next afternoon was no exception. I could see that Ann wanted to talk but I wasn't ready. Once the children were safely tucked up I made to leave, citing the fact that I would not be at home the following evening and that I had a few days in London from the Thursday.

She looked wistful.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, "I was just remembering I always packed for you when you went away, and now you have to do it yourself."

I had not thought of it, but I remembered then her bustling about asking me which colours I was going to wear.

I smiled. "I hadn't remembered that but now it's quite clear. I could never make my mind up which suits to take, or how many. You'd get quite touchy!"

"I did not!" she laughed. "I just urged you to decide!"

"OK." I said. Then her face clouded.

"I had hoped we would talk some more tonight," she ventured.




The Way Back Ch. 09



Life has intervened and I've not been able to proofread this part as fully I would like. So I apologise for any typos or other mistakes.

FORTY-TWO

I rang the bell at Stephanie Fanshaw's front door and switched on my recorder. There was a long pause and then the door opened.

Stephanie Fanshaw was a striking woman. She was very tall with a thin angular body. She was quite flat-chested but had a waist and hips and a flat bottom which reminded me of anorexic catwalk models. Her face was soft and quite round with a button nose and a wide mouth emphasised by thick lipstick and gloss. Her eyes were a startling blue and her permed hair was rich brown tinged with a hint of red. I suspected it was coloured and hid some grey. We were all getting older, I thought. I noticed her hands which were unusually very large with long fingers and nails, the latter coloured to match her lips. No rings.

She was dressed conservatively though casually, with a high-necked sweater and form-fitting trousers beneath which peeped sensible black shoes.

"Yes?" The tone was aggressive, not to be trifled with.

"Allan Jonsson." Somehow I knew that the less I said the better she would like me.

"Oh yes. I should have known that, I saw you on television. Derek did quite a job on you."

I did not reply and she stood aside to allow me entry, closed the door behind me and then led me into a well-furnished and expensively appointed room.

"Please sit down," she said, gesturing to a plush armchair, into which I sank, wondering how I would ever get up again. She sat at right angles to me on a sofa. I noticed she sat on the edge of the seat, and thought I should have done the same. She smiled as if reading my mind.

"I remember you from before your 'accident', a Christmas party, I think. You were a very good looking man." 

She said it matter-of-factly, as if talking of someone else. She had shown no emotional reaction to my appearance at all, her only reference being her comment about Derek.

I remembered she was not at that party, at least that was what David had said. Interesting.

"I assume you want my help in regard to your wife's relationship with my ex-husband."

"Ex-wife," I said, and waited.

"So you got rid of her. Good for you. Once a cheat always a cheat."

"No, she got rid of me before I returned to the scene. She was about to marry Derek."

"But she didn't?" she smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, almost vicious.

"No."

She waited a moment for further explanation, but as none was forthcoming she launched into her account.

"Derek is a weak man. He can't resist pretty women. Your ex. was not the first, but she was the last I would tolerate. I told him when I discovered his previous peccadillo, that there would be no more. He had it coming. I took him to the cleaners; he deserved it."

"Mrs Fanshaw--"

"Call me Stephanie."

"I won't bore you with a long story but I've been away for two years and as a result of this," I touched my head, "My memory is patchy and incomplete. I remember some things from before my attack, but very little of my relationship with Ann. I don't know much, so I'm trying to find out the facts."

"OK," she said, "I've got facts. She touched a file on the coffee table. This is the Investigator's report, and photos, none of any sexual activity, but enough to convict. Read it; I'll make a drink. Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please."

She left and I began to read. There it was. Dates, times, places, or rather the same place week after week. The hotel was the same one Trish and I had used when I first came back to Sale. The photos showed Ann entering the pub, followed by Derek a few minutes later, then one of them entering one of the motel rooms together, and another an hour later of Derek coming out, then some more of them having coffee together. The dates were over a six month period from the April to September 2000. There were two photos of Derek entering our house in Sale; both times were lunch times. I remembered someone saying that Derek's divorce had run over the Christmas before I disappeared, which was when we started to have pity on him, I supposed.

I felt depressed. Stephanie returned with the tea and set it down on the coffee table.

"Not pleasant reading is it?" she said quietly. I shook my head.

"I don't suppose either of them gave any explanation of these photos and the report?"

"Didn't give them the chance. I told Derek that I would make their little affair very public if he didn't accept the divorce and the settlement. I don't know whether he even told Ann why I divorced him."

"You didn't contact me."

"None of my business. Sorry but I'm a selfish bitch. I'm not good to live with, probably why he strayed in the first place. Sometimes it's better not to know anyway."

"I suppose it shows some love on his part that he wanted to spare Ann from being found out," I suggested.

"Oh, yes," she laughed a dry laugh. "I don't mean he played with his women, I think he genuinely thought he loved them. I suppose he did." She stopped and looked pensive.

"You were very resentful when he cheated." I stated it, but it was a question.

"Oh, yes. I hated him. Still do. That's why I crippled him financially with the settlement. He had to borrow a lot to pay me off. You probably don't know, but he's a lousy businessman. Good practically, but rubbish with accounts and taxes and such like. If I hadn't handled that side, he'd have gone down years ago. I believe he's in serious trouble now, apart from the court case."

I nodded. "Seems so, you don't communicate with him any more?"

"No way!" she stated adamantly. "Communications go through my lawyers. There have been none."

"That'll be why he was pushing Ann into getting married quickly. She's worth a bit, the divorce settlement would have left her very well placed."

"I bet getting those photos of you and that woman in York was a god-send to him, helped push her into marriage and push the settlement up?"

"Well, yes, but they came a cropper when they took it to court. Got a worse result than I was offering."

She laughed. All her laughter was dry and brittle. She really did hate the man; she was not the only one. 

"Good for you. Serves him right. Though I think he wanted to kill you to get Ann to himself. I think the money would have been an enticing afterthought. Still he was a fool to think he could get away with it."

"Doesn't make me feel any better either way," I laughed, and for the first time her laughter softened. 

"The sobering thought is that if I had died according to the plan, he would have got Ann for good and all her money."

"I have a feeling their marriage wouldn't have lasted," she said it with renewed viciousness. Then she softened, "I really am sorry about your marriage. You were such a lovely couple." 

"Thanks, but I'm beginning to think that perhaps not remembering some things is a better way to be."

"Perhaps," she said.

That was it. I thanked her, levered myself somehow out of the armchair's grasp and left. As I drove back home, I reflected on how Stephanie's life had been blighted by resentment and hatred. Better to let go and look ahead, and talking of looking ahead, there was now something to talk to Ann about. There would be no going back to her after what I had learned. 

However, at the back of my mind, there was a niggle. It was intensely annoying: whenever I made progress, something at the back of my mind niggled away at me. 

What was it this time? Was it that none of my friends noticed she was cheating on me? It certainly seemed from what trusted friends were saying that I knew nothing of it. Did they? So Derek's gloating comment that they were having an affair and I knew nothing of it rang true. No one noticed a change in her attitude, her behaviour? Weird! I shrugged and let myself into the flat. As I closed the door I realised it was something in that conversation with Stephanie that was niggling, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was.

Next day Jenny and I were on a train going to London. She told me she had booked a service flat for a week. It was cheaper than a suite in a hotel since we didn't know how long we'd be there. The bill would be a known quantity. She grinned as she told me that it was a two bedroom flat. I shrugged. I hadn't expected any sex with her. Anyway I had too much to think about.

On Friday Jenny's presentation was flawless as always, and we went into the component in detail. The negotiations were protracted as they haggled over the price on what for us was a very small order. Jenny was very patient, but we had to meet again on Saturday morning. On Friday night Jenny and I reckoned they were pushing us into the weekend to get us to give ground. 

At lunchtime on Saturday, Jenny told them that we had plenty of work and didn't need their custom. They knew our spec. was the best and that we could deliver on time. 

"We've talked round the subject long enough, either make us a reasonable offer, or find another supplier. We're just wasting our time here." I was astounded at her aggression!

However it had the desired effect: they were stunned and they signed the contract I offered them. 

The MD actually applauded Jenny's feisty behaviour and offered to take both of us to dinner and a club that evening, which he did, being joined by his wife. 

We got to bed in the early hours. Jenny had repeatedly tried to phone Peter, but his phone was off.

By early Sunday afternoon we were back in Manchester. We parted at the station, and I got a taxi to the flat, where I phoned Ann and asked to talk with the boys. Then some late lunch after which I stripped off and got into the shower.

I stretched out on the bed and fell asleep, being woken some two hours later by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. I donned my bathrobe and went to the door. It was Peter.

He barged in, past me and into the living room.

"Afternoon Peter!" I said sarcastically.

"You couldn't keep your hands off her could you? Had to have a bit of extra from your assistant, did you?"

"Now wait a minute--"

"I knew it was too good to be true! I knew she'd be back in your bed before long. She told me you'd given her up to be with me, can't you keep your prick in your pants?"

I had seated myself in my chair and waited until he calmed down. He was pacing the floor.

"Peter, have you talked to Jenny?"

"I don't need to; the meeting was Thursday and Friday, it's Sunday! I assume you were busy in her bed all day yesterday!"

"PETER!"

We both jumped. There was a very irate Jenny standing in the doorway, hands on hips, a face like thunder. I had forgotten to close the front door.

"How dare you!" she shouted at him. "How dare you accuse me of cheating! And without talking to me! If this is the way it's going to be, I'm finished with you! I don't need a jealous boyfriend. How dare you accuse Allan of all people! He's been my protector and my guide, and when he makes a decision he sticks to it."

Peter was visibly cowed under the onslaught. "I... I..."

"You what?" she snapped.

"I thought--"

"You didn't think, Peter," she snarled. "You acted like a jealous little boy."

"Well," he retorted, "Why are you a day late?"

"The negotiations ran over," she said, quite patiently, I thought. "In the end I had to cut up rough with them. We had separate bedrooms. Last night their MD took us out for a meal. We were deadbeat and stayed over, in any case there were no trains that late.

"Incidentally," and here she was warming up again, "I tried to phone you repeatedly but your phone was off. Why? Who were you seeing?"

"No one!" he was indignant, "Are you trying to--"

"Accuse you? Weren't you accusing me, or Allan? Come on; leave Allan to rest. He's had a hard time."

She dragged him towards the door.

"Sorry, Allan," he called over his shoulder helplessly. I smiled and gestured that it didn't matter. The door slammed.

I had just dropped into my armchair, when the doorbell rang again. I pushed myself vertical wondering what Jenny had forgotten and padded to the door. I was tired and hoped it was someone who had the wrong flat. I opened the door, and there stood Ann's sister Claire.

"Can I come in?" she asked with a shy smile. It struck me it was a shadow of Ann's smile, another memory.

"Yes, of course," I said and stood back. She entered and stopped in front of me, her face upturned for a kiss. We were ex-siblings after all. We kissed cheeks and I led her to the living area, and offered a drink. She sat on the sofa and shook her head with thanks, and another of those smiles.

"So," I said, as I sat in my chair, "what have I done to deserve a visit from my ex-sister?" I smiled. I felt I had always liked Claire.

"Allan," she began hesitantly, "Ann phoned me."

"Oh," I said, flatly. "Go on."

"She said you think she was having an affair with Derek long before you disappeared, before his divorce; that Ann caused his divorce."

"She's wrong," I said, wondering where she got that information. Not from Stephanie. It had to be Viv! Oh -- did I tell Ann what Derek had said?

"Pardon?" she was saying.

"She's wrong. My mind is open." 

It was almost a lie. I still had Stephanie's evidence to think about, and Derek's admission. 

"But there are all sorts of conflicting ideas in my head concerning Ann," I continued, "I have refused to say publicly what I suspect about Derek. I refuse to make public my own theories about Ann. I will continue to try to find answers to my questions. When I've exhausted all my inquiries, I'll talk to Ann about what I've found, whatever that is. D'you see that?"

"Oh, good!" She looked relieved, "because you'll find she's been totally faithful in everything. Faithful to you and faithful to Derek, and I'm sure Derek didn't try to kill you."

Another of the 'Derek is innocent brigade', I thought, And now, Ann is innocent too.

"I hope so. I admire your loyalty," is what I actually said.

She stiffened. 

"I don't need patronising, Allan. I came here to tell you that Ann is innocent. I know she wasn't having an affair with Derek. I sat with her when you disappeared. I visited her and helped her with the children. 

"Allan, if she'd been having an affair, she wouldn't have gone to pieces like she did. She lost all will to live. She kept saying she did not understand what you'd done. I was afraid she'd harm herself. She didn't want to go on living without you."

I sat in silence for a moment. This was a new picture of Ann. If true, it would account for why she didn't go looking for me. She seemed so self-assured, so efficient with the children. Her rage at Derek and her grim desire to humble him were the marks of a powerful and confident woman. I said as much to Claire.

"She is now, and she was before you went. I've heard of your struggle to come back from the dead. Well, she had a struggle just like it. It was the children and especially Greta that finally won her round. She had to live for them."

"And Derek?"

"He gave her so much time. I went round daily, my kids would play with yours, and he would visit."

"Exactly; he visited. Did he stay after you went?" 

"Sometimes, but I'd phone her when I got home and he had always left before that. Anyway, the children were in the way."

"He was going to marry her, don't you think there was just the slightest chance that his support was so he could get into her life?"

"He was grateful for all you both did for him after his divorce. He loved his wife so much he was devastated, you both gave him a lot of time. That's all, Allan. Nothing more. 

"I did ask her at the time if he was being a little too attentive, and she was appalled at the thought that I or people in general might think they were lovers; she was still longing for you to come back then. She was ready to forgive you. She would go on and on about how much she missed you and wanted you back. 

"Derek didn't have a chance then. Allan, I was there. I know. It was only after that letter that she gave up hope and let him in."

"You know he wrote it, forged it?"

"Yes. He was a fool. I think by then he wanted to marry her."

"You know the police have evidence about Derek's part in my attempted murder?"

"What evidence?"

"His accounts."

"No," she shook her head.

"Well, I'm surprised Ann hasn't mentioned it," I must have sounded surprised, "Surely Derek must have told her."

"They don't tell me everything."

"They? Derek as well?"

"I keep in touch with both of them. He's very unhappy."

"I bet he is. Ask Ann about his accounts. Derek's defence people must have the police evidence by now. So I don't buy the disinterested Derek, Claire. The evidence is damning, and if he hasn't said anything about that, I'd be suspicious."

"Why have you got it in for him, Allan?"

"Look at me Claire!" I raised my voice. "I've lost my memories, my wife, my family life, my health, my mobility. As far as I can see, all the evidence points to Derek. His business is teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, he's been pushing Ann to destroy my factory and make the workers redundant, so he can bail himself out. Can't you see a pattern? 

"I disappear. He sorts a PI. The PI leaves out two photos that show I didn't go off with another woman. Later he forges a letter purporting to come from me to push her over the edge, if indeed she needed much pushing. So don't lecture me on Derek's good nature. I haven't seen any other reasoning that explains all that evidence."

"I can see you've made your mind up."

"Claire, the evidence is pointing fully and solely at Derek. Evidence! I didn't get my suspicion out of the air!" 

She was quiet. 

"I'm sorry, Claire," I soothed. "I didn't mean to get irritated, but my life and future has been ruined. It makes me angry, and believe me, I've not voiced anything of what I've told you to anyone else except Ann. I always duck the question of Derek's guilt. You can ask anyone, but the evidence is there. There is more, but I'm not at liberty to tell you. All I can say is that it is conclusive. He hired men to kill me so he could get Ann.

"As far as Ann is concerned, you have to understand I have an impaired memory. I need to find things out. I need to prove Ann's innocence. You have continuity. I have none, but a great deal of conflicting information and a great deal of evidence which seems to point to things I'd prefer not to find out."

"So why try?"

"Because she's the mother of my children. I need to know she had no part in... this." I said, gesturing toward my face." I paused. "Do you understand that?"

"Yes," she was not happy, but she was thinking. Then, "Have I helped?" and that smile again.

I thought for a moment, then I smiled back. "Yes, you have. I know more about the effect my disappearance had on Ann, and that effect is the work of the same person or persons who nearly killed me. If that's Derek, and I think it is, your sister has been living with the man who tried to murder her husband."

She stood. "I think I understand more now. I thought you were being vindictive for no reason. I was wrong."

We kissed goodbye and she left.

I was very tired. On Tuesday I would see Ann. I needed time to think to sort the contributions by Stephanie and Derek, but I was too tired at that moment. I promised myself that Monday night I would sort things out. 

I do not like to break promises, even to myself, but I did that on Monday. The phone woke me up at six. Geoff asked me to come to the office to set Jenny up for the trip to Newcastle. It was a brief meeting. I think Geoff was not as confident in Jenny's abilities as I was, but she had everything covered. Geoff was reassured and apologised for getting me in so early.

Then there was one complication after another all day, and we had to extend our day to cover them all. I arrived home at eleven dead beat. And the phone rang.




The Way Back Ch. 09



"Allan, it's me, Jenny."

I mustered a remnant of energy, "Hi, Jenny. What's up?"

"Just to say that I think you're going to have to come here. Generally it went all right, but they've got some weird ideas."

"OK. We can talk about it when you get back."

"Had a bad day?" she asked, perceptive as always.

"I've just got in. I'm not really built for eighteen hour days."

"Oh, sorry, darling. I'll let you get to bed."

"Thanks."

Tuesday was little better. I felt like death when I awoke. I got in late and found more problems when I eventually arrived at work. I was still working at seven when the phone rang.

"Allan, you've forgotten."

"Oh Ann, I'm sorry. We've had two dreadful days. Where are you? I'll come straight away."

"Is Jenny there?"

"No, she's on her way back from Newcastle, first solo flight."

"OK. Well I'm sitting outside your flat."

"Ten minutes."

"OK."

I got in and Ann went to the kitchen while I showered. The plate of beans on toast she made was welcome. She waited in the living area, while I ate in the kitchen area. I dumped the plate and joined her.

"Allan," she said, "I think this may be a bad idea. You're tired."

"No, You wanted to come tonight, and it's my fault I'm late."

"Greta's babysitting."

"Fine."

"So I haven't got long."

"OK, then let's get started."

She sat forward. "You said Derek had been to see you."

"Yes, and I've been to see Stephanie Fanshaw."

"Oh?"

"She has the evidence of Derek's adultery."

There was an insistent ringing of the doorbell.

"Shit" I said, and went to open the door. Jenny stood there. I stood back. She swept through into the living room.

"Oh," she said, "Hello Ann. Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, Jenny," Ann answered, "We were just going try to sort things out."

"I didn't know," Jenny started to look embarrassed, "I told Peter to come and apologise properly after his performance on Sunday."

"What happened?" asked Ann, "I've not heard about this."

"He assumed that because Jenny and I stayed an extra day in London, we were having sex," I intervened.

"And were you?" she asked, and I could see she regretted the question immediately.

"Negotiations," I snapped, "He burst in here and accused me of taking Jenny back."

"He'd left an angry message on my answer-phone," added Jenny, "saying he was waiting at your flat. That's when I came running over."

"A misunderstanding," I soothed, "born of ignorance and inexperience. Don't be too hard on him."

"I just wonder if I can cope with his jealousy," she turned to Ann. "He really laid into Allan on Sunday about us staying an extra day in London. He assumed Allan and I were, well you know."

"You have to understand, Jenny," said Ann patiently, "that Peter is very insecure about you. He can't believe that someone as hot as you could really be interested in him. He probably thinks in his worry that you're using him in some way, and will move on to someone else soon."

"I'm sorry," said Jenny. "It may surprise you but I'm new at the dating game. Allan will tell you the whole story one day. I never thought for a moment of leaving him. I am more and more attracted to him all the time. He's a real catch."

"So," I interrupted, "do you tell him that? He needs to hear it over and over."

"No," she said thoughtfully. "I have a lot to learn, Allan. You were so easy to be with; I didn't need to try very hard."

At this Peter arrived. He was no sooner through the door when Ann pounced.

"Come on little brother," she ordered. "I've a bone to pick with you, in the bedroom."

He grinned sheepishly and without a word followed her out of the living room. 

Jenny and I discussed her visit to Newcastle University. She thought I needed to go as some of the specifications they wanted seemed too complex and delicate, and in one case contradictory, to work for long. I shrugged and hoped not. I hadn't really stopped to reexamine it, and I wanted to think.

After about half an hour, the siblings returned. Ann looked satisfied and Peter gazed at Jenny with rapt admiration. Then he remembered where he was.

"Allan," he said, "I must apologise for the way I treated you on Sunday. I don't know what came over me."

"You do," interrupted Jenny, "Jealousy."

"Yes, you're right, but I normally just slink away when a girl throws me over for someone else. It was the anger I don't understand. Anyway, I'm sorry."

"Forget it," I said. "Shows you really think she's special, shows a bit of lust as well, but it helps to talk to her first."

"Ann's been telling me. She's right, I am insecure. I just can't believe that Jenny is interested in me."

"God Peter," Jenny said. "You don't realise how attractive you are. I'm a lucky girl to have found you. Why you aren't already married I don't know. I'm not going to let you go; and I'm not interested in anyone else. You're more than enough for me."

"I'm very, very sorry Allan. I promise never to mistrust Jenny ever again."

"I hope so!" I replied, but I still made up my mind that Jenny and I would never again give him cause.

"We're off," said Jenny. "Sorry to mess up your evening,"

"And Peter," I said as a parting shot, "remember: trust your woman."

He nodded and off they went.

Ann looked annoyed. 

"I'll not stay," she said, "You'll be tired, but I want to know what's going on, what these people have been saying about me and Derek."

"As soon as possible," I said, "but you won't like what you hear. It'll keep."

"Suit yourself, you're good at giving advice to Peter about trust. Pity you can't take it yourself," she snapped, and left.

I sat down heavily, astonished.

------

FORTY-THREE

I didn't have long to be astonished. Within five minutes Geoff rang to say the Newcastle lot had asked to see me to discuss their ideas. I was testy. I asked if they'd never heard of conference calling, or emails. He apologised and said they had plans on paper, and would I go the next day, early.

"How early?"

"There's a train from Piccadilly at just before seven, get in about ten. They'll pick you up."

I went to bed and woke when I needed to, but long before I wanted to. I woke as I went to sleep, angry.

I was angry all the way to Newcastle. I restrained myself, at least part of the time, talking to physicists who seemed to think that everything was as possible in real life as in theory. It was a question of how long they were prepared to wait while we worked through their specifications. They wanted it quickly. Tough.

I had a contract for them, Jenny had drawn it up and it was perfect. They promised to read it and see me the next day. I crashed at the hotel immediately after dinner. The next day they agreed with a few minor quibbles and all was finished by eleven that morning.

I toyed with the idea of going home straightaway, but decided to stay over that night as well and think through what had transpired in my life.

I retired to my room and worked my way through the 'tapes' from all the conversations I'd held with 'the three', with the PI in York, Derek and Stephanie. Then I reprised them and added David's and Viv's. I talked my way through the conversation I'd had with the next-door neighbour.

Everything seemed to fit together. Derek met Ann at the party. In the year that followed, at some time, they struck up a friendship. They were seen together. Derek claimed they began an affair, and Stephanie's evidence bore that out, emphasised by Derek's reluctance to bring Ann into the divorce proceedings, which on thinking about it reflected well on him. 

Then when I disappeared Ann was devastated. I could understand she loved me a great deal, but wanted Derek and his sexual technique as well. So losing me put her off him for a while, probably from guilt. She thought I had cheated with someone else, and realised how guilty she was in her turn.

So the affair cooled while she longed for me to return. She could forgive; she had sinned as well. Perhaps she may have met him for comfort when the children were at school. Our neighbours certainly saw him at the house often enough. Finally she was able to move in with him and settled down, even if, as the children seemed to think, she thought him second best as husband material. The sex must have done it for her.

I could understand her anger at me when I first made myself known. She was under a misapprehension, and her vehemence seemed to show her love for me, her sense of betrayal. She had stayed with me during her affair, but I had left her and the children high and dry. I was much more guilty than she had been, but she still wanted Derek, and my return complicated her life.

This showed after she knew the truth about me, her guilt forced her to try to re-establish our relationship but she longed for Derek's body and it showed in her constant siding with Derek against all the evidence. That stubbornness was surely more than just a hunch he was innocent? It was as if she desperately wanted him to be innocent. The only reason for that had to be that she lusted for him, while discovering she still loved me in every other department.

So would she go back to him after the trial? Her repeated returns to him in spite of protestations that she was finished with him seemed to bear that out. The last two occasions she slept with him seemed to reinforce what Derek said, she loved him more than me; she wanted him and couldn't stop having sex with him and she felt guilty and pitied me. Stripping for him seemed to indicate more than a sexual farewell to a long time lover. Perhaps she was in love with each of us in a different way?

I mentally shrugged my shoulders. Ann would be confronted with the facts and I would hear her side, though I wondered how she could possibly have any reasonable explanation that showed she wanted me back, as she kept asserting she did.

The evidence of Derek's guilt seemed straightforward. The three assailants were part-time employees. O'Malley admitted leading them to me, or me to them to be accurate. His connection with Derek was straightforward. Those three were definitely guilty. 

Then there was the payment. That was a clear link to Derek: his money. Then there was his forged letter and his previous affair with Ann. Motive: either to get Ann herself or her money. He got the former but failed to get the latter.

Behind all this, there remained a niggling feeling that I had missed something. What was it? Where was it? There was certainly this mystery go-between, the tall man who organised the attack and paid the men off. Did the tall man also recruit the PI from York? The tall man wasn't seen again, and no one saw him with Derek. O'Malley thought he was a friend of Derek's, but that was conjecture based on a supposed sighting some years before. 

That man hadn't been traced by the police. Derek certainly wasn't helping there, he denied all knowledge of the man, according to Colin, but he would do that wouldn't he? Was it possible that the man was paid by someone else and the money out of Derek's account was a coincidence? But the payees were fictitious. Could it be Derek squirrelling away cash before he went bankrupt? Against this the amounts were the same as those paid to the three and to O'Malley. No, it was his money all right.

I played through all the conversations yet again. Still nothing. I had the feeling it was staring at me and I couldn't see it. I gave up. Ann was guilty. Derek was guilty. Just the final showdown with Ann to go. I felt sadness. I was already very fond of her, nay more, attracted to her. It had grown as my memories returned, memories that we had a good life together for all those years. It seemed that only the latter part of that good life was a lie.

I had a thought and left the hotel. I went to the pub frequented by the staff at the hospital. Perhaps someone would be there.

I bought a pint and was about to find a seat when I felt a hand on my arm.

"Aled? I mean Allan, silly me."

I looked round. Oh, yes! 

It was Sue. Now I had a terrible memory for names, but hers shone like a beacon lit by lust!

Sue. There are women's bottoms which one could stare at for hours, so perfectly shaped are they, seeming to invite touching and fondling, breasts that are not huge but balance perfectly the inward curve of her waist. A long neck, and long, long legs. A face you just can't tear your eyes away from -- except to gaze at her arse. Beautiful long flaxen hair. That was Sue.

She shepherded me to the table where a few of Trish's and my friends were sitting, and the night became perfect. Of course, they got my history since I left. They were by turns sympathetic and envious and happy for me. Once that was over, the stories and jokes flowed, and the drinks with them. At the end, we all stood to leave and Sue came and stood by my side.

"You're single then?" she asked, tucking her arm in mine.

"Yep!" I reposted, feeling full of the cheerfulness alcohol engenders, as we arrived on the pavement outside the pub.

"My day off tomorrow," she said, "I've always wondered about you. Your hotel near here?"

Suddenly I knew I didn't want what she was obviously offering. She was exquisite and she was offering it to me, but I didn't want to have sex with her. Was it that she was so totally confident that any man she offered herself to would obediently follow her to her bed? A sort of arrogance born of her certainty of her own attractiveness? Did that put me off?

She pulled her arm away. "What's the matter, Allan? Have I said something?"

Then I had a flash of memory. Trish upset because she'd had casual sex with that medic. 

"Sue," I said. "I'm sorry, I don't do one night stands. You're one of the most beautiful women I know, but I'm not into casual sex."

"Oh," she said, disappointed.

"I've been told that I was completely faithful to Ann for twenty years, then I was faithful to Tirsh for those months we were intimate, and I was faithful to Jennifer, the last girlfriend I had. My friend David says it's in my genes. I just don't do casual."

"I see," she said. "I think that's nice."

"Sue," I said, "I don't understand this. My face is not pretty," I laughed dryly, "but you wanted me. Why? There are lots of good looking blokes out there, why me?"

She stood in front of me. Looked hard at me. And smiled.

"It's not your looks Allan! You're sort of transparent. There's no affectation; you don't try to impress. You have dignity and strength, and you put up with your injuries with humour and cheerfulness. Makes you sort of intriguing.

"You know, it's actually weirdly flattering that you think enough of me to turn me down. Well, must go."

She pulled my head down to her and gave me a scorching kiss, which I returned.

"Hmm, good kisser too!" Then she laughed. "Well, this evening's been different!"

"You're quite special Sue, you know that? I've had a great night. Thank you."

"Love you too. Goodbye," she said and turning, strode off, attracting a good number of male eyes to gaze on her swaying hips and that prize-winning arse outlined in her tight, tight jeans.

I wandered back to my hotel, had a whisky in the bar and went to bed where I masturbated vigorously to Sue's bottom's memory, and then fell into a deep and satisfied sleep.

I love travelling by train, and I was able to assess the Newcastle contract and find it satisfactory, to review what I had learned, and what I needed to know about Ann's dalliance with Derek before my attack, and to decide what I would do about it when I returned to the flat. All that and gazing out of the window at the fields and houses flashing by.

I also did what I hate other people doing on trains, I used my mobile phone, but I did my phoning in the toilet. I had to bring Geoff up to speed since I would not be returning to the office that afternoon. I was going to relax in my flat.

'Man proposes, God disposes' as the saying goes. Perhaps He/She (perhaps Both/Neither?) was miffed at my boozy activities the night before. God was on the side of my daughter that evening, and rightly so as it turned out.

I had a plan. I re-recorded Stephanie's conversation with me, and also Derek's, burned a CD and had it ready for Ann. She could listen to the evidence and then explain herself. Then I went to bed for an hour. It might have been longer if the doorbell had not gone and forced me up to answer it.

There, standing in front of me, were Greta and Ann. I stood back as an invitation, and they went through to the living area.

"Greta was wondering if she could stay with you this weekend," Ann began, "The boys have gone to stay with Peter. He's taking them to a football match tomorrow, and to some junk food place tonight."

Greta was trying not to look hopeful but failed. I sighed.

"I'm pretty bushed, I'm afraid," I said, "Newcastle was very busy and exhausting,"

Greta looked disappointed and downcast and dear old Dad couldn't bear it.

"If she's prepared for me to fall asleep," I continued, "she's welcome to stay."

Greta's smile was all the reward I needed. Then Ann followed it on with, "I wondered if we could talk while I'm here? Save the delay in making another appointment,"

I immediately felt angry. She was trying to catch me unprepared. No way.

"No, Ann," I said, "I am dead beat and couldn't concentrate. We agreed we'd make appointments and we'd have these meetings alone. I'm not talking to you with Greta here, the flat is too small, and what I've found out about you, I don't think you'd want to talk about with her here."

"What?" she said, angry in her turn.

"No. No more," I said, "but I have something to give you," I picked up the CD. 

"Listen to this, and when we meet we'll really have something to discuss."

"Bring her back Sunday afternoon before the boys get back," she snapped, "And be prepared to talk. I'm sick of being constantly put off."

And she turned and swept out, slamming the door behind her. Greta emerged from 'her' bedroom.

"What's going on Dad?"

"Mum is annoyed with me because I won't talk to her now. I'm going to talk with her on Sunday."

She was satisfied with that. "Dad, we don't have to do anything. I've got my laptop and games and books. I just needed to get away from Mum for a while. She's been very edgy and snappy -- bad tempered. With the lads away, I'd have been first in the firing line. Finding fault with everything."

"OK," I said and off she went.

We did go shopping on Saturday, or rather we started out shopping together until she saw three friends and that was the last I saw of her until quite late. She had rung to tell me not to keep a meal for her.

On Sunday we ate out for lunch.

Over lunch: "Dad?"

"Yes?" what, I wondered, was coming. 

"I don't know what's going on between you two, but it isn't doing Mum any good. She's always flying off the deep end at the slightest thing. I hear her crying after we've gone to bed. I'm worried about her. Please relax your rules a bit and talk with her."

This was yet another side of Ann. Why was she crying? Ask the daughter.

"Have you asked Mum why she's so upset."

"No, she's so touchy."

"Look, if you hear her, go to her. Give her a cuddle, and ask her."

"Um," She said thoughtfully. Then she smiled lovingly and hugged and kissed me, leaning across the table. "I think it's you she's crying over, Dad, she wants your cuddles not mine."

There was no answer to that. It's hard to watch a daughter having to grow up too fast, hard to think of her as a woman. She's needs to be a girl for a long time after she's a woman.

We collected her things from the flat and I took her home, ready to meet Ann. The final showdown?

------ 

FORTY-FOUR

As we drove into the drive, Greta said, "I've got to make myself scarce while you and Mum talk, but she wants me there in case I can help with information."




The Way Back Ch. 09



That's what she did. We entered the hall, she shouted hello to Ann and went upstairs with her bags, shutting the door behind her. 

Well I thought, it's a technical breach of the rules we set, but at this stage I don't care. After what Greta said, I don't want to be the cause of more suffering.

I went into the kitchen, and Ann was pouring two mugs of tea. She was dressed in a flowery tee shirt and jeans; no attempt to impress like last time.

"I want to talk in here," she said, "across the table. The living room chairs are too comfortable."

When we were seated opposite each other. She looked at me, and the look was of dislike and unhappiness.

"Have you got anything to say?" she asked, quite aggressively, I thought. "When you've finished, I've got a lot to say. So you'd better get started."

The feelings she projected raised similar feelings in me, and I started to feel angry. She had seen the evidence of her betrayal of our marriage, and here she was attacking me. What had I done? OK. I could dish it out as well as she could.

"I've had enough of your game playing and lies. You profess love for me, longing to get me back. You assure me that your sexual life with Derek is over, and days later you're in bed with him again. 

"You say you're torn apart by the attack on me and its results, and yet you constantly side with the man who paid people to kill me so he could deceive you into his bed. You're still siding with him, believing him and implying I'm a liar. I couldn't work out why, until Derek came to see me and then when I went to see Stephanie Fanshaw. 

"You were having an affair with Derek long before he tried to have me killed. So of course you want him, and want to keep going back to him. He must be a fantastic lover to have such a hold over you; someone I could never compete with. As he said, you wanted me for the lifestyle and him for decent sex. The evidence of your affair is sitting in Stephanie's files. Of course the folk next door saw him arriving once or twice a week while the children were at school. 

"At least he had the honour, if that's the word, to keep your name out of the divorce, at immense cost to him and his business it seems. No wonder you wanted to use my money so badly to get him out of his financial hole.

"Also no wonder either, that he then needed me dead so he could move in on our money. The evidence is all there: the money from his accounts going to the three thugs who did this to me; the forged letter to get you to start on the road to marriage.

"Well, why don't you stop all the play acting and go back to him? Oh of course, the children. They hate him and wouldn't go back to him, and while you love lover-boy's body, you love your children more. So you're prepared to go through the charade of loving me and wanting me back so you can have the best of both again, the money, the lifestyle, the children, and Derek when you get the itch.

"I think what little relationship we have is over. We need to sort out the custody of the children. I will buy a house for you and they can live with me and you can have visitation rights as often as you want. There. It's all out in the open. Don't try gainsaying the evidence; it speaks for itself."

There was a pause. She had been looking more and more angry as I ranted through my tirade, but there was a deep sadness in there as well. She flinched visibly at some of my remarks which I took to be guilt.

"Have you finished?" she asked. I nodded and sat back.

"You are such a stupid bastard Allan sometimes. Now you will listen to me, and you will listen like I did, in silence until I have finished. Then I suggest you get up and leave, and go think about what I've said. I assume your precious little recorder is working?"

"Ann," I replied, "you know I need it. Short term memory is still risky."

"OK, so you can go home and replay it and then think about it. Then come back and talk some more. I've a lot to say, so be patient.

"I met and fell in love with you twenty three years ago. I knew nothing about your life, or about your ambitions or the future. Our early years were lived in relative poverty, as you got your business off the ground. 

"When you appointed David as your attorney in case you died or were kidnapped you asked that I take half the company, and I refused. I loved you, not your money. I loved you, not your business. Out of love I put up with your many absences as you travelled round the world on business, and I longed for you to come home. 

"As a lover you were second to none. I was deliriously happy with our sex life: it was always fresh, exciting and most of all loving. It was specially intense when you got back from your trips. You were my sole focus, and no one else came into the picture. You need to know that, because we've never talked long enough for you to find that out since you came back.

"Now I know you have memory loss, but I haven't. So my feelings for you are no different now than they were then. I know you don't believe that, but it doesn't stop it being true. I can understand that with a defective memory, you might not feel the same way, you won't have the continuity.

"I'll leave the issue of my so-called affair aside for a moment, partly because it never happened, and partly because it will interfere with the flow of what I'm telling you."

Evidence! Evidence! I thought, but kept quiet.

"When you disappeared my life fell apart. You said, or implied, that no one believed you would go off with another woman but that I did believe it. 

"Sorry, Allan, I refused to believe it until the photo evidence came. I'd say here that you should realise that evidence is not enough. I'll come back to that as well because you're wrong about evidence speaking for itself. It never does. It's always interpreted, and we often have insufficient knowledge to interpret it properly. 

"Once I was convinced you had really gone off with someone, I then refused to believe that you had really gone away for good. Time and time again I kept saying you'd be back, and I wouldn't let that idea go. I would have forgiven you. I just couldn't understand how you could have done it and I was full of guilt that I must somehow have failed you.

"And yes, you're right, it was only when Derek's forged letter came that I finally gave up. Then I was really angry. You had rubbished our whole family and our life and our value. You had abandoned your family without a backward glance. Again you will not believe this but again it's true, it was only after that letter that I made love with Derek. 

"And now I'll deal with Derek. You need to know why I refuse to believe he's guilty of your attempted murder. You won't like it, but sorry, this is how it is.

"We met at that party, the one just before the millennium. He was entertaining. His wife was ill or something and he was on his own. I introduced him to you and afterwards we met him from time to time at parties.

Then I met him again when I was doing some work for Natasha when she was having her first baby. I told you about it at the time.

"It was only during the divorce and in the months after it that he'd visit here, not before. He was distraught; he really loved Stephanie but she was always a difficult woman. You and I, we used to joke about his lunchtime visits when you came home in the evening. I used to say he was a typical builder, always somewhere other than where he should have been. We agreed he shouldn't have been unfaithful to Stephanie. 

"But he'd come round when you were here at home, as well as when you were at work. You often went drinking with him and David to cheer him up. We both supported him when he was really low.

"When you disappeared, then he supported me. I was a complete wreck. I had no energy, no direction. I had a breakdown. I sat for weeks doing nothing. The children were neglected and he cheered me up and gave me hope. Claire took on the children.

"Allan he never once made any moves on me at all. He would put an arm round me and I would cry for hours on his chest. He never once kissed me. Never once. He could have, I was longing for some love. I got the kisses from David and Viv and Susan but I need sex as well, and life was frustrating. 

"He was gentle and he was caring. He even cooked for the children when I was inert. He did us no favours there; he's a lousy cook. I would ask him why he was doing all this. He would say that we pulled him through his hell of a divorce, now he could do something in return.

"I asked him why he wrote the forged letter when you discovered that he'd done it. He was very embarrassed but said that I was living half a life, and there seemed no chance of you coming back, so he did it to set me free. And it did. I gave up hoping for your return and started to live my life again. I turned to this kind and gentle man and gave him some encouragement and he was so grateful. He had a loving woman again.

"I'm afraid he turned out to be very dull as a life-partner. He lied when he told you he was the better man, he couldn't hold a candle to you in any department, but he was all I had, and he loved me so much, and I in turn loved him, mainly out of gratitude. 

"If nothing else much, he was a companion, better than no one at all. He was no good with the children, and he was quite a chauvinist when it came to housework, but he does love me.

"What I'm trying to show you Allan, is his character. He's not a cold-blooded murderer. I know his nature. He was genuinely puzzled as I was by your disappearance. When the PI phoned him and said he had information, he urged me to write and employ him. We did it together."

"The PI phoned Derek?" I intervened.

"Yes. The man lived in York and he heard of Derek's enquiries at the hotel on my behalf. I think he had a relative working there.

"Now, listen," she said, "Do you really think that with all my memories of our love life together I could even stand to be in the same house as someone who tried to kill you? You may not remember much about our life together but I do. 

"When you gave me all that evidence about Derek I went back to the house feeling murderous, but when I got there it was clear he was completely at a loss to understand what was going on. I've been with him for months Allan; I know he really didn't understand what was going on. He really thought you were fitting him up in revenge for me having sex with him. I'm sorry Allan, but I love him enough to stand by him when everyone else has him guilty.

"I took the risk of telling you how much I love you, and how much I longed for you to be back with me. I still feel that way. What was your response? Not exactly positive, was it? You wouldn't believe me and you kept saying you were with someone else. 

"So I went back to help him out: he is very, very lonely. His life has fallen apart like yours has, and like mine did. So yes, I made love with him while you were away. You weren't going to believe me, or him, and you weren't coming back to me so why should I not? 

"You have obviously have no idea how painful it was seeing you with two other women, both attractive, both clever, both sexy, knowing you were sleeping with them; that more than the sex they had the sort of intimacy I wanted with you, that I used to have with you. While you were living with them you weren't ever coming back to me. Viv saw that and you know how she loves to organise other people's lives.

"It was Viv who convinced me to keep trying for you. She had got Peter for Jenny. I know all about your wonderful behaviour with her when you found out, so self-forgetful. That always was you all over. I knew then I loved you more than any need Derek might have and I totally finished with him.

"Now you're doing the 'evidence' thing again. Derek lost his temper when he visited you and said things that weren't true. He wanted to hurt you. I don't know what Stephanie's evidence is but I can tell you that I was not the other woman in her divorce. I'll be asking Derek about that one as well.

"You go on about evidence. I refute what you say. Evidence is always interpreted. I think your evidence is seriously incomplete, and as a result you are wrong about a lot of things. I want you to go and think about what I've said. If you had a complete memory of our life together you'd be living here and you would know that there must be another way of seeing all this. There must be.

"Please, please, Allan," she said, gazing into my eyes, "just try to think of another explanation for your 'evidence'."

She had finished, and sagged.

I was shell-shocked. It was the last thing I expected. I couldn't see another way of seeing things, but her intensity was compelling. 

"Thank you Ann," I said, "I'll play it and think about it. I still think the evidence about Derek and you is compelling, but yes I will think about it. I'll go now."

"OK. I'll give you a promise," she said seriously. "Unless or until our explorations and talking are finished and I am certain we are not going to ever get together, I won't have any further sexual relations with Derek. Not because he's guilty, but because I love you more and want you more than anything back in my life."

I didn't understand that either, but I nodded and left. No kiss, no hug.

I drove back to the flat in turmoil. Her aggression and her certainty had floored me. She definitely did not sound like someone who was trying to lie to me. Her dismissal of her adultery, almost as an aside, seemed to be believable. No begging, no sorrow, just an assertion that she was right and she'd acted honourably throughout.

I did as I promised, I sat down as soon as I got in and had a mug of tea in front of me, and I played our talk back. In fact I played it back a number of times, but seemed to be making no progress, beyond a growing understanding of Ann's character. 

I played the conversation with her three friends from school, and had to admit that she was fiercely loyal. In that case, her description of her feelings when I went missing seemed accurate. Claire bore it out as well. 

I could also understand her loyalty to Derek, but was that loyalty born of adultery? It struck me that she didn't in the end really explain about Stephanie's evidence of Ann's involvement with Derek which was serious enough to provoke a divorce.

So I sat back and thought more widely about what Derek had said and what Stephanie had showed me. I found her remarks on my computer and played both back again and again until I knew them by heart. It didn't help much.

The thing that niggled was that comment of Ann's about the PI from York. Something didn't ring true about that. I wondered how many PIs got in touch with people touting for business like that. How did he know where to phone? 

Then what about the fact that the PI kept back two photos which exonerated me. It was Derek who stood to gain from withholding them. It struck me that Derek could have phoned the man and got him to ring.

In the end I gave up in despair and went to bed.

Next morning, Peter rang to ask if I had any objections to Greta doing her work placement with his firm, since her chosen company had fallen through. It was the practice after exams for the students to spend two weeks gaining some experience of the world of work. I readily agreed, and I thanked him for his thoughtfulness. 

I asked him how were things with him and Jenny.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" he crowed, "She's... she's... well..."

"Wonderful?" I asked laughing, and he agreed.

When Jenny came into work, I said, "Hello, wonderful!"

She looked puzzled.

"Peter rang," I said.

She smiled, "Yes, he is rather wonderful. You were right about giving shy men a chance."

We got down to work.

Then came a phone call from David. Would I like to join them for dinner; there were a few ends to tie up about the new building, and it would save us both time.

It wasn't my idea of fun but I had nothing else to do, so I agreed. It turned out to be a good decision.

Dinner was delicious as always, and Viv kept well clear before the meal while we did our business. Afterwards we sat together and drank our coffee. No whisky or liqueurs though: I was driving. The conversation was desultory. 

Then Viv told David she needed to pay a bill, and David retorted that she knew the password for the joint account, and why didn't she use it herself instead of getting him to do it. Then he said it.

"Honestly Viv, you're as bad as Ann and Allan. She never used their joint account even though she knew the password, always asked me to transfer money for her."

It was a 'eureka' moment. Joint internet accounts. Passwords. And I suddenly saw what had been eluding me. David asked me what was the matter. I answered that I had some research to do, and his last remark had made a difference. I would tell him when the four met again on Friday.

When I got back to the flat I replayed Stephanie's conversation. There it was. Derek was a lousy businessman as far as money and accounts were concerned. She handled all his accounts. I wondered if he ever changed his passwords. If not, Stephanie would have access to his accounts on line. 

So there was someone else who could have moved the money. Derek was not the only person who could have paid off the murderous yobs who 'killed' me. It could be that particular someone who hated Derek.

Derek's guilt was now looking less certain. There was another suspect in the frame, but the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed. Derek was the only one who stood to gain. Surely he would have seen the money leaving his business account? After all it was not an inconsiderable amount.

How could Stephanie be involved, and more to the point, why? She had nothing to gain by having me killed. I didn't know the woman until I went to see her, and she didn't know me. She had said Ann and I made a lovely couple; how did she know? She wasn't at the party before the millennium. Perhaps Derek had told her, they were still together then. 

What I thought had clarified things only seemed to have muddied the waters. I went to bed.

Tuesday started normally. After Viv's machinations my 'being set up' antenna were sharpened, if indeed antennae can be sharpened to any good effect, but I caught on fast as Jenny made an innocuous remark.

"Ann was asking if you were going for tea tonight. The boys miss you."

"I could do," I said suspiciously. "Can you ring and ask her?"

She did. Her most salient part of the conversation was, "OK, Peter and I will be there."

I suspected something was planned. I was right.

I left work early and was able to play with the boys in the garden for a couple of hours before the meal, and when we entered the house to clean up for tea, there were Peter and Jenny. I said nothing, but held my breath and waited.

The boys left the table and Ann said, "We could continue our talk if you like. Jenny and Peter will keep the lads occupied, they have homework in any case."

Once again she'd broken the rules. We were to make appointments. We were to meet in private.

Once we were alone, I said as much and I was not pleased.

"I'm sorry," she said, and clearly meant it, "but you mentioned Stephanie and Derek's divorce and my part in it, and I think with some help I can clear that bit up. Did you think over what I said?

"Yes."

"And?"

"I've had some ideas, but they're not complete yet, so they'll wait. I remain to be convinced about a number of things but they'll keep. I don't want to talk about them tonight."

"Oh." She was disappointed, I could see, but I didn't get warning of the meeting and I wasn't going to make life easy. Petty I know, but that's how I felt.

We were in the kitchen and I heard the doorbell go and Jenny answer it. There was some conversation, and then into the kitchen came Derek. I started to my feet, my anger rising. I really had been set up this time and I hated it.




The Way Back Ch. 09



"What's going on Ann? I'm out of here." 

"Allan, please," she begged earnestly, "Derek has important information for you. I had a talk with him earlier and he has some things to say." 

She turned to Derek, "Haven't you Derek?"

He looked embarrassed and reluctant, but nodded. 

"Allan, I've come to apologise and to help with this divorce business. I'd appreciate it if you would stay and listen."

I sagged back into my chair, defeated. 

"OK," I said resignedly, "I can see I'm out manoeuvred. Say what you have to say."

"Sit down, Derek," Ann said, pulling out a chair for him. He was facing me; she sat at the head of the table. 

"Now," she said, "off you go!"

"Allan," he began. "When I came to your office I was in a state. I had lost everything and now I seemed to be losing Ann as well. I believed I was a better lover than you, and that was why Ann kept coming back to me. She put me right on that. Apparently I'm not in the same league as you. That's embarrassing for me to admit, but it seems you're the better man. I'm sorry for the things I said. Now I think I can shed some light on the divorce thing with Steph."

He took a deep breath. "Ann wondered why I never said anything about my affair that led to the divorce. The woman I was seeing wasn't Ann. Ann and I had no relations until after you disappeared. It was another woman. I can give you her name and phone number so you can check." He took out a notebook and scribbled down a name and number.

"Can you phone during the day, Allan?" he asked. "She's still with her husband, and he has no idea she was unfaithful. He'd lost interest in her when she was overweight and that's how we hooked up. Now she's slim again their marriage is back on track."

I nodded. There was no way I wanted to wreck another marriage.

He continued, "When Steph said she'd publish the woman's name, I thought she had discovered my affair with Madeleine. I never asked her who, because there was only one woman involved. I had no idea she thought the woman was Ann. You told Ann she had photos?"

"Yes," I must confess I had become intrigued.

"Well, the only place I can think of where we were seen at the same place before the divorce was at the slimming club at the Pelican Hotel. Ann was running the sessions for a friend and I happened to be attending the sessions."

"You were seen entering Ann's motel room," I stated it blandly, waiting for a guilty response. None came.

"Only once. Ann remembers. I asked her if I could use the room after she had left, the room had to be booked overnight in any case. Ann had gone when Madeleine arrived and we spent the afternoon there. There wasn't another time after that.

"Allan all I want is for Ann to be happy. I thought she needed me. I was wrong. She needs you. I have to tell you that we only began to have a relationship in the fullest sense of the word after I forged that letter. 

"I apologise for doing that, but I didn't think you were ever coming back, and Ann was on permanent hold waiting. I thought she needed to move on."

"Allan," said Ann, "After that letter, I made the running. Derek still didn't try to seduce me, I needed relief and the love of a man."

I didn't react outwardly. Why did her assertion that she seduced Derek hurt so much? I felt a cold anger and I think it was jealousy. However, I needed information.

"All right," I said, my distaste showing. "Derek, you can help me with a small piece of information."

"Anything," he said eagerly. "What do you want to know?"

"How often do you change your bank passwords on the internet?"

He looked perplexed, "Change them? How do you do that?"

I was staggered. The man was either totally incompetent or incredibly devious. I hoped I had concealed my amazement.

"That's OK," I said. "Just an idea I had."

He got up. Nothing more was said. He turned towards Ann who had also stood. She hugged and kissed him and he left. I felt the inevitable hot anger rising at their affectionate gesture.

"Well?" she asked after the front door closed.

"Well what?"

"Have you thought about what I said last time, and what was that question about?"

"Yes, and evidence."

"Pardon?"

"Have I thought about what you said? Yes. What was that question about? Evidence."

"Allan, stop being obtuse. Talk to me."

"OK," I replied, "Twice now you've broken our agreement about meeting. This time you really hit the jackpot, a house full of people and Derek! Now you want me to just carry on talking as if we're alone in my flat. I don't think so."

She looked annoyed but said nothing. She waited. I waited. Then I got up to go.

"Please Allan, this is killing me. I'm sorry about tonight but I wanted you to see Derek and to hear what he had to say. I knew if I told you he was coming, you would disappear."

"I'm sick and tired of being set up, first by Viv and now you, Jenny and Peter. It's not on, Ann. I won't stand for it. Understand?"

"OK, Allan. I'm sorry. I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"Us getting together again, not a big deal?"

"Don't be stupid Allan, you know what I mean. If you feel like that you'd better go home."

"I will. I'm not in a mood to talk and the conditions aren't right."

"Come for tea tomorrow?"

"No more surprises?"

"Promise."

------ 

FORTY-FIVE

I felt a real fool when I woke up on Wednesday. The way I'd behaved was petty and stupid. I had been like a spoilt little boy, stamping my feet in rage. I couldn't understand why I was so angry. 

Looking back on it, I was given the information that I wanted from Derek, and the feeling was growing that Ann had been right all along. At least there was the possibility that Derek was not the only suspect in the frame, though he was still number one for motive.

I phoned Ann as soon as I got into the office and apologised.

"I don't understand why you're so angry," she replied, after accepting my apology with a good grace.

"I don't know either," I said, "It just seems different things set me off."

"Want to talk tonight?" she asked tentatively.

"Can we leave it till Friday? No need to come to the flat. I've got an early trip to Southampton tomorrow and want an early night."

She seemed happy with that.

The day passed with meetings with Geoff about the supplier I was going to see. Normally he would go as buyer but he had to see another company in Preston.

The evening was very pleasant; Ann was trying to make my stay as trouble free as possible urging me to get outside with the lads while the good weather lasted. The meal was delicious as always. What I was not prepared for was the third degree grilling from the children.

"Dad," Stefan began the onslaught, "Before, you said you couldn't come back home because you were with Jenny."

"Yes?" I shot an accusing glance at Ann.

"Don't look at me!" she exclaimed, laughing, "I've got nothing to do with this."

"No Dad," said Greta, "The three of us have been talking."

"I'm delighted my children are talking to each other, stops you fighting, I suppose!"

"Oh, Dad!" came a chorus.

"But Dad," Stefan again. 

"Yes, Stefan?"

"You're not with Jenny any more, Uncle Peter is."

"That's right."

"So you can come back to Mum now," his logic, for a ten-year-old, was once again impeccable.

"Yes Dad," said Jan, "There's nothing stopping you. It's silly to be living in the flat and coming here for all your meals."

I was flummoxed as to how to reply without hurting Ann. I'd done enough of that.

"Leave Dad alone," she intervened, "Dad and I are talking about all that has happened. When you're grown up, you understand why he can't come back just like that."

"That's right," I added, "There's a lot of history to work out between Mum and me."

"But," said Stefan doggedly, "You could just start again, as if you hadn't met. Start going out on dates sort of."

"Sorry Stef," I said, "It's what happened to me and to Mum that means we can't just do that."

"But Mum's pretty isn't she?" said Jan.

"And she's good and kind and loving," added Greta with a twinkle in her eye.

"Greta!" snapped Ann, "Give over, you know what's stopping us."

"Hey Greta," said Jan, "Tell us, what's stopping them?"

Now it was Greta's turn to be discomfited. 

"You wouldn't understand," she said.

"Tell us anyway," said Stefan, now curious.

"Well," she said. "We all think that Derek is the one who tried to kill Daddy, and Mum has been living with him as if they were married. Mum divorced Dad and divorce means you no longer want someone or love them."

"But she did!" protested Stefan, now upset. "She still wants him. She finished Derek when she knew Daddy wasn't cheating on her!"

"Yes I know," continued Greta, quite patiently I thought, "but the divorce hurt Daddy a lot, and the thought that Mum loved someone else, not him. So they've got to talk about it and see if things could change."

Well done Greta, I thought. She'd given me food for thought as well.

"Can we leave it at that, children?" begged Ann, perhaps conscious of my position. "Daddy and I will be talking a lot."

At this I made a statement that surprised me, nay astounded me, and I was the one saying it! 

"It doesn't mean we'll never get over all this you know. Just give us time."

The warmth of the smile on Ann's face touched me and I felt that warmth wash over me and it glowed within me.

At the door, as I left after making my farewells to the children in their various rooms, Ann gave me another of those wonderful smiles and kissed me briefly on my lips.

"Thanks!" she whispered.

"You're welcome," I replied, though I wasn't sure what I was being thanked for, but I felt she was welcome anyway.

On Thursday the Southampton trip went well; I got a train before seven, changing once at Birmingham, arrived about eleven, and we concluded business by two. Then they insisted on feeding me, so I didn't get to the station until nearly five. There was a through train and I was back in my flat by eleven. Travelling first class is relaxing and I did not feel unduly fatigued.

What those hours on the train allowed was a long period to think things out. Derek's guilt or innocence was not my concern, though I decided to confide my new information to Colin and the others on the next day, when the four would meet. 

What taxed me was my relationship, or lack of it, with Ann. The children had me thinking. Did I love the woman? Did I want her? If she offered a shag in her bed would I jump at the chance? I had to conclude that the answer to all three questions was in the affirmative. 

Ann was strikingly beautiful and the beauty was enhanced by her maturity. She was my kind of woman, independent, thoughtful, decisive, and I had learned about and seen her fierce loyalty, even though it was her loyalty to Derek that was still a stumbling block. Let's face it I told myself, she was sexy, her allure was magnetic.

So what was my problem? 

If I said I wanted to come back I knew she'd fall over herself in her eagerness to receive me. What was stopping me? 

Then there were these sudden bursts of anger. Was the anger against Ann or was it something else? I was definitely torn, but the block was stronger than the attraction. 

It was easy to point to Derek as the cause, but I was not so sure. I just knew now that If I went back to her, Derek would be completely out of the frame for Ann. No, it was something else. And try as I might, I couldn't see it. In the end I gave up, perhaps the problem would be cleared as Ann and I talked.

Then I remembered the phone number of Derek's lover. It was too late to phone then, but I made up my mind to do so the next morning from work. 

At eleven on Friday I called the lady and she, though at first reluctant, eventually admitted the affair. I had to explain that Derek's keeping her from publicity had resulted in my attack and the break up of our marriage. I think it gave her pause for thought, that her fling with Derek had caused so much suffering. 

So Ann was telling the truth there and so was Derek. I was now willing to believe them about when they started their affair. All the evidence now pointed to that. Clare's pleading reinforced it, and it tied in very tightly with Ann's characteristic loyalty, and her espousal of the underdog.

Jenny and I were getting on well, and my worries about her guilt at leaving me were groundless. Indeed, she and Peter were so involved with Ann and the family she already felt more like a sister. She sorted the loose ends of my Southampton visit without my asking.

I reminded Ann on the phone that I was meeting the 'three' that evening, with which she seemed at ease. The day was warming up. I knew I was to have the boys over the weekend, and it was my intention to take them, and Greta, if she wanted to go, on a hike in the Peak District, but I could see by the weather and the forecast that it would be far too hot on Saturday, or Sunday for that matter.

That evening as we had tea together, I mentioned my worries about the next day. Ann asked if we could go to the leisure club she used, 'The River Leisure UK'. Stupid name, and I said as much. Ann looked a little disconcerted, but I couldn't work out why. 

There was to be a barbecue and the use of the outdoor swimming pool there, and games arranged for children and teenagers. The lads were ecstatic and even Greta looked interested, asking if she could bring a friend along. I wondered if it would be a boyfriend, but said nothing: she had said she didn't have a boyfriend, but things change rapidly at that age. I knew the treatment she would get from the lads if I asked about a boyfriend.

So I agreed and was instructed to get to the house at eleven with swimming gear. Privately I resolved I would not be stripping off. It was one thing to swim in the pool of my own gym, where there were few people, but to do the same in my physical condition before a large crowd was not on.

I made my farewells and drove back to the flat to leave the car, and then got a taxi to the Cross Keys.

They were already in residence and my pint was waiting for me. We chatted aimlessly for a while and then I decided to share what I had found out.

"Gentlemen," I began, "I've been doing some research concerning my attack, and I think you should hear what I've found out."

"Sounds ominous," said Keith.

"Depends how you look at it. Here goes," I began.

"First, Derek was not the only person who could access his business accounts. He hasn't a clue about passwords on the internet, which I still find hard to believe, but I think it's true. His ex-wife used to handle all his business accounts and she still has access to them if the passwords are the same."

"Are you saying that she organised your attack?" asked Colin, "No motive is there?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm giving the information. It opens things up a little, and there's more."

"Go on," said David, "You realise this'll really get Viv going?"

"I hope not," I said. "She's enough trouble as it is." David just smiled.

"So?" Colin prodded.

"David knows I went to see Stephanie Fanshaw. It was she who told me she sorted all Derek' money before the divorce, did all his accounts, but she also said she hadn't spoken to him since the divorce; she's still very bitter. There was something of the manic about her."

"Can't see it making much of a difference," said Colin, "Derek is the only one with a real motive. Why should Stephanie want you dead? Derek, yes; Ann, if Stephanie thought Ann was having the affair, but you? No, Derek wanted to get Ann. It was his money that was used and his workmen. And you can't get away from it, he forged the letter."

I could see his point. I wasn't going to argue the ins and outs of her hatred of Ann and Derek.

So the conversation rambled onto other things.

David drove me home.

"See you at the barbeque tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yep!" I answered, "What is this place Ann uses?"

"Oh, Crikey," exclaimed David. "You won't remember, will you? You did it the day you left for York, or rather you left me to do it."

"What? I don't follow."

"Ann applied for membership of the 'The River' leisure club. It's a superb place, but it was very exclusive and expensive, and they turned her down. She was livid: it has wonderful facilities and large grounds on the banks of the Bollin River; you could even stay there overnight in the hotel section, though that was pretty small. 

"You got annoyed and asked me to size the place up. I found the owner was looking to sell: the place was losing money heavily; in his eagerness to keep it exclusive he'd been turning people down all over the place. 

"So you told me to knock his price down as far as I could and buy it. I got it down to three quarters of a million. Then you disappeared but I still carried on with the sale, your instructions. I'd quite forgotten. So now you own the place.

"Of course, Ann was immediately made a premier class member. I put a General Manager in with executive powers. His name is Martin Sharrocks. He's made the place more accessible and brought down the prices. He closed the hotel; it was a knocking shop and was a loss maker big time. No one needed to sleep there: everyone who uses the place is a local, but a few marriages got broken because of it. So that went. Now you're making a good profit from the club.

"Martin is a bit strange in some ways but he certainly makes money, and the place runs well. Very efficient."

"Well," I said. "I didn't realise I owned a health club. I could have used it myself."

"It's a fair distance from here so not on for daily use for you. It's useful for Ann because it's near her work. In any case there's been so much else going on, I'd quite forgotten it. It's a sideline really."

Suddenly I was looking forward to tomorrow.



The Way Back Ch. 10



Part the last. Congratulations if you've persevered to the end. Thanks to all who have taken the trouble to comment. It has been most encouraging and good to know so many enjoyed it. 

Once again apologies for typos. Family life is still preventing me from proof reading the third and final time before posting. It will be some time before I can post another tale.

FORTY-SIX

I did not sleep well that night. It was too warm. Most British homes do not have air-conditioning, our summers are simply not hot enough for long enough to merit the expense of buying them and running them. So I had the windows wide open trying to catch any breeze there might have been. It was dead calm and twenty Celsius overnight. 

Eventually I got up and made some tea and drank it in the living area. It was getting light when I at last fell asleep on the sofa and so inevitably I overslept, to be awoken by the phone. It was nearly midday, and I was stiff and aching. The sun was bright and the temperature was rising still.

"Allan, where are you?" shouted my angry ex-wife, "We've had to go without you. D'you know where it is?"

"For-goodness-sake!" I groaned, "Less noise. I had a really bad night."

"Oh, sorry!" she said more quietly, "Are you up to coming?"

"Give me an hour. I'll be there."

I showered and found my swim-shorts and towel, just in case, and sun cream. I put on a loose shirt with a bright pattern and the lightest pair of slacks I could find, light socks and trainers. I drove, blessing our underground car park and the car's air conditioning. 

David was right, it was too far from Stretford for me to use regularly, but the denizens of Altrincham, Hale and Bowden would find it very convenient; and these were areas where the big money was. I parked in the large car park and entered the reception area. I was not prepared for what came next.

Reception was air-conditioned. It was heaven, so cool. So was the girl behind the desk. I approached it and she looked up with a smile which immediately died on her face. I knew it was my face that revolted her.

"Yes?" she said, coolly, though not unpleasantly, but lacking the sort of welcome I would have thought essential in a receptionist.

"I'm here for the barbeque," I said, a little irked.

"You're not a member," she stated. Not a question; a statement.

I thought for a moment. Is the owner of a place a member of it? Probably not.

"No," I said.

"Members only," she said. "Sorry." She wasn't.

"I'm here to see my ex-wife and my children. She is a member."

The next question should have been her name, but it was not asked.

"I'm sorry, this party is for members and their families. Since you are no longer a family member, I'm afraid you can't be admitted."

"I think, my dear," I oozed as patronisingly as possible, "I can and will be admitted. Get the manager."

"I'm afraid he's busy with the barbeque. I could make an appointment for tomorrow if you'd like to apply to join."

"No. Get him now."

"Gary!" she shouted and a large fit twenty-something emerged from a door behind her.

"This gentleman," she said, and I didn't like the tone she used for 'gentleman', "Can't be admitted and he's refusing to leave."

Gary came round the desk with a certain amount of menace. "Time to go, pal, before you get hurt."

"Before you assault me," I barked, "Let me tell you, you are about to lose your jobs, the pair of you!"

Gary stopped for a moment, during which I took out my phone.

"David!" I said, "Send Martin to reception would you? Don't tell him anything just send him. I need to find something out."

Now the atmosphere changed. They looked puzzled. Then Martin arrived.

"Yes?" he said, looking at me. I knew the look, I'd seen it often, and recently on the face of the receptionist. 

"These two are refusing me admittance. They have been cold and unwelcoming and impolite, and this man," I pointed at Gary, "has been threatening me."

"Well, sir," he began, "this party is for members only. You are not a member I take it?"

"No," I said.

"Well, I'm afraid..."

"I own the place."

The three looked at me for a moment, and then Martin began to laugh, and the others snorted along with him. At that moment, David came through the door from the party outside.

"Allan," he inquired, "What's going on?"

"You know him?" asked Martin.

"Oh yes, I know him. You've not been watching the news lately?"

Light dawned. "Oh, you're the man..." 

"Yes." I said, and I must have looked annoyed.

"Well, I'm sorry about what happened to you," Martin said, "They got the blokes who did it though? But I'm sorry it's only for members today."

"My ex-wife and my children are in there, and I want to join them."

"Sorry..."

"Martin," said David, "You still don't get it, do you? This is Allan Jonsson. Ring any bells?"

There was a delightful moment when light dawned. It spread over his face, followed by a look of fear and worry, and yes, even horror.

"Oh, God!" he said.

"No, not exactly," I replied grimly. "Just the owner of this place. Now am I to be allowed to go in?"

"Oh... Yes... Of course!"

"I will need to have a long meeting with you about this place and about staff training. I never want any potential customers to be treated as these two have treated me."

The acute discomfort on the faces of the two employees was turning to dread. They knew their jobs were on the line.

"I'll sort that out. They're history," He was turning to them when I interrupted him.

"No, Martin, not yet. I'll interview them sometime next week."

He looked uncomfortable. They looked terrified. I liked that. I turned and went into the pool area. Hearing a babble of heated conversation behind me. I smiled, sometimes having an ugly face leads to fun.

There was quite a crowd round the pool and in the grassed area round it. There was a queue at the buffet table and another at the barbeque. The lads were in the queue for the barbeque. I looked round and there was Greta with another girl I thought I recognised, talking and clearly flirting with four or five teenage lads. She was wearing a light sundress which covered her modesty, under which was a white bikini, vaguely visible when the dress pressed against her body.

I looked round further and there on a lounger, on the grass under a tree, was Ann. There was another lounger next to it, and perched upon it a handsome looking man about our age. He was dressed only in swimming shorts and was engaging Ann in conversation. He, she and I all knew he was attempting to seduce her, and she was showing him just as clearly as she might that she was not interested. I did not know him.

Ann was wearing a sundress very similar to Greta's. Under it was a black one-piece swimsuit. She hadn't seen me, so I stood and watched to see what would happen. The dress was short, and the whole of her thighs were on view. He took this as an invitation and put a hand on her thigh. The reaction was instantaneous and decisive. She removed his hand and gave him an earful. He went off and joined the queue for the barbeque. I could see him watching her.

I approached and she saw me. She blushed. I knew she wondered what I'd seen.

"Yon gent a little too frisky?" I asked. She looked relieved and nodded.

"Allan," she said. "Do me a favour. Put your hand on my thigh, then move it up nearer to my crotch."

"Why, madam," I jested. "We've hardly been introduced."

"Shut up and do it," she commanded. I obeyed.

I could see him bristle out of the corner of my eye, but Ann was looking directly at him with a smile.

"That'll teach him," she said, then looked at my hand, which had remained where it was. "You can take your hand away now, if you want to."

"Why should I want to?" I said with as much seriousness as I could muster, but I took it away, and we joined the buffet queue.

We returned to the loungers and ate our lunch. After we finished, she got us both drinks; me a beer and she a diet coke, and lay back. I did the same. We were side by side.

"I've been waiting a long time," she implored, "for you to tell me what you discovered when you thought about what has happened. Please, Allan, tell me."

"Well," I said. "I believe completely what you say about your relationship with Derek. I know you are true and loyal. Moreover, I'm a lot more inclined to believe what you said about Derek. Partly because of your knowledge of him, but more because the field of possible assassins has opened up."

"What d'you mean?"

"I went to see Stephanie as you know. It was something she said. I didn't twig until David made a remark to Viv after dinner. He said they had a joint account and she knew the password, why did he have to do it every time."

"I don't follow."

"Stephanie said Derek was useless at the accounts side of the business. She did it all. That's why I asked Derek about passwords. He hadn't changed them, can you believe that, Ann? He doesn't know how to! Remember?"

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, I could tell her mind was working. "I didn't believe it when he said it. So Stephanie could have moved the money to pay the men?"

"Could have. It opens a possibility."

"But, why should she want you dead? You weren't involved in my so called adultery with Derek?"

I admired her honesty and acuity. Instead of harping on about Stephanie's proposed guilt, she put the objections. Yes, Ann was totally honest and truthful.

She was continuing, "So, it doesn't mean she did anything, only that she could have."

"Ann, You told me to go and re-evaluate the evidence, and this is what has come up."

"But it brings us back to the question, why try to kill you? If you had died, eventually Derek and I would have married and he would have more money than Stephanie Fanshaw could dream about."

"Again, you're right. Just what Colin said when I told him last night. No motive. Now do you see why I'm constantly conflicted about Derek? I don't know him as well as you do."

She thought, and nodded. 

"OK," she said. "I can stop thinking you're being unreasonable. I do understand you need answers and you're only looking for the truth."

A pause, then she said, "I fancy a swim; I'm really hot, even under this tree."

"You're really hot wherever you are," I rejoined without thinking. 

She started and looked at me. "You've never made a single remark about my body since you came back. Why now?"

"I was with Trish or Jenny," I replied, thinking on my feet, even though I was lying down, "I've always thought you were beautiful. Who wouldn't? That bloke did!"

"Then why?"

"I was with someone else. I try to be faithful to the woman I'm with, and there are other issues, as you know. The fact that I'm inhibited from making a play for you because of what's happened, doesn't mean I don't find you attractive, especially in a short sundress and black high-leg swimsuit!"

"So -- you coming in the pool?"

"I don't think so," I said, tempting as it was in the heat of the afternoon, "I swim better in private."

"Oh, come on Allan," she cajoled, "I don't want to be groped by some of the slime balls in there. You've come to my rescue once. Come and protect me in the water."

"I don't think so," I said doggedly. 

"Please!"

"OK," I snapped, "You asked for it. This is why I don't want to swim." I pulled off my shirt and dropped my trousers.

There was noise all over the complex, people shouting, boys and girls playing, loud talking, but there was a deathly silence from next to me. It seemed to form a bubble round us.

When I looked at her, she was weeping silently, the tears running down her cheeks. Eventually she spoke haltingly.

"Oh, Allan, my darling, I didn't think! Oh, how horrible! How you must have suffered all those months, and I was hating you all the time instead of being there for you." Her sobs redoubled.

"I always think," I said, with a certain detachment, "it's better for me to swim in private. I don't want to spoil people's day, having to look at this."

"Allan, my love," she sighed, "bugger them! Come and swim with me, now!"

She lifted off her sundress, and I was mesmerised. She was truly beautiful. Her shape, her skin, her long legs, looking all the longer for the high-cut style of the suit. Perhaps I fell in love with her again at that moment. I certainly started lusting after her. 

I went with her to the pool. It caused something of a stir, though my scars were much less livid than they had been before. We swam up and down the pool together, and though everyone else was larking about, no one came near us!

We got more food and drinks, and as the afternoon turned into evening, our children came back to us. Greta brought a tall lanky lad with kind eyes to us.

"Mum, Dad," she said shyly, "this is Tim, my boyfriend,"

He looked terrified, and I could see Ann looking him up and own with some hostility.

"Pleased to meet you, Tim," I said, nudging Ann.

"Oh yes," she said, "Hi, Tim."

"Mr Jonsson," said Tim, "Greta never stops talking about you," (here he got an elbow in the ribs from Greta, which he ignored), "I'd like to say that I think your struggle back to health is nothing short of heroic."

Wow! An articulate lad, with all the right words!

"Why, thank you," I replied, smiling broadly. "But I really had no choice. With your gift for flattery, I can see why Greta worships you!"

I have never, I am sure, before or since, got a look from Greta so hostile and at the same time grateful, as I did then. Tim did not last long as her boyfriend, but the lad she's with at the moment has the gift of the gab as well. He works for me in sales.

I saw Jan begin to open his mouth in singsong tones, "Greta's got a--"

"Jan!" I snapped, cutting off his mockery of his sister. I later explained to him that mocking his sister was totally OK, indeed advisable, but not in front of a guest, as Tim was at that time.

No matter, everyone laughed, except Greta of course.

Soon it was time to go home. 

"Allan," Ann tugged my arm. "Please will you come tomorrow to the house? All the children are going out. Come in the morning and stay for the day. I've got something for you."

"Sounds ominous," I said.

"I think you need this. Trust me? It won't hurt and might help."

I nodded and drove off.

------

FORTY-SEVEN

Sunday was a complete change from the previous day. The wind had veered to the north and a front had brought heavy rain, which beat on the windows of the flat. I had some toast for breakfast and then set off for the house. It wasn't exactly cold in the rain, but it wasn't warm either. Not pleasant.

I entered the house. It was very quiet, so I knew the children had gone. Ann appeared. She was wearing a blouse with a scooped neck giving a delicious hint of her breasts, and a shortish pleated skirt. No stockings or tights, but a pair of open sandals. She kissed my cheek and I kissed hers and she led me into the living room where there was a pot of coffee, mugs and milk.

I noticed there were photo albums on the coffee table and a couple of VCR tapes. Ann was pouring the coffee and saw me eyeing it all.

"Laura said she'd seen you and she asked me why I hadn't helped you with your memories of our life together, and I had to say we've both been too busy. But she was right. So I thought we could go through the photo's and see what you remember."

She sat by me, her skirt rising high along her thighs (oh, God, her thighs!) and picked up an album. 

"I've sorted the photo's into albums in chronological order, I did it when you first disappeared. I don't know why I carried on because the photo's were agony to look at. Perhaps I hoped that by looking back you would return to me and all would be well again. But here you are, the earliest time in the life of Allan Jonsson."

So there began a journey through my life. The first album had pictures of my mother and father, both of whom I recognised, though I had to be told that the baby and the boy was me. There were school photo's, holiday snaps and Christmas photo's. She told me who the people were when I couldn't remember them, but I was surprised by the number whose names came back to me unaided.

Then there were teenage parties, school trips, photo's of me larking about with friends whom neither Ann nor I could recognise. There were a few with girls hanging on my arm or sitting on my knee at parties. We didn't know them either. We laughed about them, Ann telling me they had good taste. 

There were photo's from university, groups in the union, I recognised Geoff as a young man hiking. Photo's of Summer Balls with, it seemed, different girls. I found I knew some of their names and remembered what we did together, though I did not always tell Ann what it was we did! Then some of graduation with my proud parents.

"You know," said Ann, as we broke for lunch, a salad she'd made earlier, "Ordinary people, people like me, we don't remember everything or everyone, or even most of the things that happen in our lives. It's just that we know roughly what happened. All we remember are the special times, when we were especially happy or embarrassed or sad or when something special happened. The rest is gone."

"Yes," I agreed. "It's just that in my case I don't even know all those special times. Even with the photo's it's almost as if they happened to someone else."

"That's why we're doing this," she asserted, "We go through your life in pictures and you can keep coming back to them again and again."

I felt grateful she'd thought of this idea, and said so. She smiled and hugged my arm. The woman was growing on me.

Then we went back to the sofa. This time it was different. Wedding photo's or to be more precise courting, engagement and wedding photo's. Ann gave a commentary on the photo's and how the wedding went. She spoke with real fondness. 

I found it interesting that while I had no memory of the event, each piece of information rang a bell and became clear. Then there followed photo's of our children as they grew, their little triumphs, school photo's and our holidays together. There were photo's of us all together laughing. Others of us romping on the floor of the house.

Ann commented on them, saying where they were taken and what was going on, but that was secondary to the emotional comfort and solidity it was giving me. I was getting more and more elated and it showed. By the time the photo's were finished I was buzzing with happiness.

"Now there's more," she said, "I compiled a video from our camcorder tape collection."

She put a DVD in the machine, and we sat and watched as the disc put life into the photo's we had already seen. There was plenty of footage of Ann and me, arm in arm or with our arms round each other. Some Christmas footage when the children were opening presents, and of Ann and I kissing on the sofa. It was fun to watch, but I began to get a little edgy. Did Ann choose all the hugging to exclusion of other stuff?

"Did you download all the hugs and kissing you found?" I asked smiling.

"Well, nearly all. We were in love you know."

"The tape?" I asked.

"Well," she said, rather hesitantly I thought, "It's a tape of our more private moments. It shows us being intimate, being in love. You don't have to watch it."

I had the feeling I was once more being set up, but against that, I wondered if it would show Ann and me as a relationship. I desperately wanted to know.

"Play it," I said.

"We agreed to record this in case one of us died, so we would remember how much we loved each other." 

She played it. 

The next hour was filled with pictured of us cooking together, sitting together, laughing together. The pictures became more and more sexually explicit. We had filmed ourselves necking on the sofa we were now sitting on, obviously having the camcorder on a tripod. 




The Way Back Ch. 10



We were shown undressing each other and caressing more and more intimately, until I was clearly fingering her inside her knickers and she had my cock out and was pulling on it. The transitions were smooth and gradual. I became more and more wrapped up in the action. It was like watching a porn film, except that it was more making love than raw lustful sex alone.

When the bedroom scenes started, I was oblivious to everything else. On the TV screen we undressed each other, and then we began to make love. We kissed, caressed, fingered, masturbated. We licked and sucked and blew. I took her pussy and she took my cock in our mouths in a sixty-nine, and we both orgasmed whereupon she swallowed my offering and I licked all round my wet lips and face. 

Then, unlike a porn film we cuddled up together, our limbs entwined, and said loving things to each other, clearly for the future for the benefit of the tape. Eventually the scene cut to us in a more aroused state and this time there was full on sex. Missionary first and then she begged to go on top, then wanted me behind her, while she fingered herself to an orgasm which was fully satisfying and I came inside her with similar satisfaction. 

There was more. She had dressed in a little black dress and I was in a dress shirt and dinner suit. We undressed each other. She had the flimsiest purple bra and knickers set I had ever seen, with black lace top thigh high stockings, and she undressed me to show my erect penis to the camera which revealed that I had clearly enjoyed the view. 

I showed the camera how slowly and lasciviously I could pull her panties down over her thighs and then her calves, whereupon she opened her legs wide and invited me in. Then we fucked again, though this time I pushed her legs over my shoulders and hammered her until she cried out her orgasm and I bellowed mine. The children were clearly not at home. Once again we cuddled and the tape finished.

I was exhausted. I wasn't sure what I had learned. The couple on the screen were clearly very much into each other, knew each other completely and loved each other. Was I turned on? You bet I was. My cock was hard, and though I had not played with it as I watched, I had had to adjust it.

"Hey, baby! Fancy doing it for real?"

It was Ann at the door. I had not noticed her going, but now she stood in the doorway wearing very little - a black lacy minimalist push-up bra, black lacy see-through boy-shorts showing all she had on offer, and black fishnet stockings with lacy tops. Her hair was down. She was a walking wet dream, and she was inviting me to have sex. What could I do?

I'll tell you what I could do. I could get intensely angry; I could get livid with rage, I could get disgusted with her manipulation of my feelings to get me into bed. For what? So she could get relief for her sexual itch. Did I do all that? Oh yes.

I got up, pushed past her quite roughly and made my stumbling 'run' for the front door. Once it was open I turned. She was standing in the hall looking totally at a loss.

"So that was it, was it?" I snarled, "A whole day to get me so worked up I would fall into your bed and you could use me to scratch your insatiable sexual itch? Nice try, but it won't work with me. I don't do sex with women I respect just for relief, theirs or mine. There has to be love. Go and get Derek inside you if you're that desperate! You look like a common whore!"

And I slammed the door. I started the car and turned it round, but she did not come out. I drove home to my flat, probably very dangerously.

I paced the floor, raging inside and talking to the room, or myself, I did not know or care which. I felt utterly betrayed and cheated. A whole day devoted to my seduction! The gradual orchestration of my emotions, to the point where I would give in and go to her bed; what casual manipulation! What selfishness!

The phone rang.

"Yes?" I snapped.

It was Ann and she launched into a tirade. 

"How dare you say those things to me? How dare you accuse me of seducing you? When are you going to wake up to the fact you love me, Allan? That all this emotion and rage is to do with that? All right, the underwear was a misjudgement on my part. I'm sorry! I did everything today to try and help. Help you, not me. You were so wrapped up in the film of our lovemaking that I thought a little light relief was called for. Light relief, you stupid bastard! You could have laughed and told me to get dressed. 

"But no. Oh no! You fly into a fucking rage. It proves one thing you stupid bugger, you want me. You're all chewed up. You need to find out why. You can't blame Trish or Jenny, or Clare or Viv any more. This is inside you. 

"Get real and start realising who loves you, worships you, longs for you every hour of every day. What I did at the door was what any wife would do for her husband when he got horny watching porn, and don't say we're not married, you know damn well we are, even if the government doesn't think so. 

"I'm sorry! It was a mistake, it was a joke. OK? Fuck, Allan, what do I have to do?" 

And she rang off.

I sat down heavily. All my anger had dissipated. Once again that anger had risen in me. Once again I had gone off at the deep end and if I did it much more it would drown what relationship we had. Now I recalled the photo's and the videos. All that love. Was that why I got so angry? That it had all been taken away, ruined? What did she say? 

'This is inside you. I did what any wife would do. What do I have to do?' 

She was right. I recognised suddenly how much she was trying to win me back. How much she loved me. Every time she did it I knocked her back. How stupid! I did love her but this god-forsaken anger would keep rising every time we got close.

I rang her back and when she answered I burst into tears and between the heaving and the sobbing, apologised over and over and babbled on and on about my troubles and this wild and untamed anger which I could not seem to be able to control. What else I said I can't remember, but it can't have been coherent. After some time, I ground to a halt. 

She said, "OK, but you need professional help," and rang off. It was all I deserved but it hurt all the same.

------ 

FORTY-EIGHT

Monday morning. Another working week. But I woke very early with the events of the day before etched in my mind and no thought of work at all.

I did not lie abed, but rose and spent half an hour on the rowing machine, which I had been rather neglecting. Then a shower and only then did I allow myself the first mug of tea that day. I allowed myself half a grapefruit and some muesli as well. It was still only six, and the sun was shining, and already warm.

I thought about Ann, and there came a flash of understanding, the sort that makes you wonder why you couldn't see it so clearly before. With that revelation came the why of it as well. 

Ann had been steadfastly working to get me back to her, ever since that meeting in the pub just before the marriage that didn't happen. She had weathered all the temper tantrums, the pettiness, the moods that I displayed so forcefully. I had made her suffer, and she had suffered with every rejection I had shown her. But she had carried on. I had been unfair, unfeeling and at times vindictive.

And the why of it? I had been completely wrapped in my own agenda and my own resentment at my position. I had been in reality looking for someone upon whom to take some sort of revenge, and the person most closely connected with my likely assailants that I could get at, had been Ann. 

It had dominated everything I had done and thought. It had been part of a self-centred drive to emotionally reverse the calamity that had befallen me. That reversal could never happen. So much was I bound up in myself and my self-pity that I couldn't see the suffering of the one person who had consistently loved me since first we became intimate all those years ago, long before my 'accident'.

Of course, at first when I came back, I did not know her. But now I did and I was loading all my misfortunes onto her. I wondered if my subconscious already knew that she was the love of my life and the one to help me carry my burden. Of course, consciously all I could see was Derek and her and my jealously was all I could feel. He had stolen her.

It was enlightenment and my world was different. I had not realised how deeply I had sunk into a sort of self-obsession and it was certainly narrow selfishness in my personal life. I needed to look outward and forward.

I made a decision. I dressed, collected what I would need for work and set off for our house. I had to see Ann.

I arrived at seven fifteen.

It says a lot for my state of mind that it never dawned on me that everyone would be getting ready for school and work. The place would be a madhouse. However, it did not take long for me to be appraised of the real situation. I let myself in and shouted a greeting. Ann came out of the kitchen.

"Allan! What the hell are you doing? It's a working day, or don't you do those any more?" It was a sarcastic remark and reminded me that she was still livid with me.

"I need to see you briefly before you go to work." I replied, quite meekly I thought. "I'll help."

The children took my presence in their stride, too busy to question the timing of it.

So I busied myself with the 'packing children off to school' routine, which I now knew well. Ann took in my activity and went to get her make-up on. I did the rest, packing lunches, finding kit, and for Stefan a shoe and for Greta her bus pass for her journey to Peter's place for her work experience.

Ann came down the stairs ready for work and reviewed the troops. Finding all was well she dismissed them and they hugged her and then me before departing. It left Ann and me facing each other in the hallway. Her hands were by her sides and her stare was unfathomable.

"I won't keep you," I said, looking her in the eye, "But this has to be said. I'm very sorry for all the suffering I've put you through since I came back from the dead. You've shown me nothing but love and I've repaid that with tantrums, temper and sarcasm. So I'm asking your forgiveness, and I promise to try to keep my emotions under control for the future. 

"There, that's what I wanted to tell you, and I wanted to do it face to face as soon as possible. I've done some thinking and it's time I told you everything. I'm asking you for a meeting, no conditions, any time or place you want. Please?"

Her face softened, and she smiled bleakly. 

"Allan, my darling," she said, "I need to apologise to you. You phoned me in distress yesterday and I was horrible to you. It made me think. You say you've made me suffer. I can't imagine how great your suffering has been since you came back. One thing after another, and all of them bad."

I thought getting to know the children was pretty good, but I said nothing and she was continuing in any case.

"I realised how distressing it must have been to see me with another man so soon, as if you had never existed. 

Then there's the aftermath of your injuries. Even though I saw your body on Saturday, I don't think I realised until last night how awful that must be, what a toll it took on your emotions, how much pain you are still suffering, that someone did that to you in order to kill you; that someone wanted you dead! I know now how much you need to know who did this. Would you come for tea tonight and talk with me afterwards?"

"Love to," I said. I remembered suddenly very vividly, if that is the right word, her capacity for forgiveness and compassion those many years past. How easy she always made it look and how much it must have cost her.

She took a step to me and kissed me. It was not the peck that we usually exchanged but a full-blown passionate kiss with soft lips and with her arms around my neck. I kissed her back just as passionately, pulling her to me, and when we parted she had tears in her eyes and I had tears in mine.

"Tonight!" she said and picked up her briefcase.

"I'll lock up," I said. She nodded, looking more relaxed than I had ever seen her, and then she left on the run. She would be late but I reckoned she couldn't care less.

I would be late as well. I cleaned the kitchen after the breakfast carnage and then passed through the living room, in case there was anything that might need washing up. It shone a revelation into my mind. 

On the coffee table, lay one DVD disc, one VCR tape, and the photograph albums we had looked at the day before. The realisation was so intense I had to sit down. It was the photo's.

I could almost hear the words in my head. 

"You don't communicate with him any more?" I'd said to Stephanie Fanshaw.

"No way! Any communication goes through my lawyers. There have been none." 

I could recall the viciousness of the response.

And later:

"I bet getting those photo's of you and that woman in York was a god-send to him, helped push her into marriage and push the settlement up?" 

The curl of her lip, and the tone of satisfaction.

If there had been no communication, how did she know about the photo's? The PI had phoned Ann, not the other way round; was he in the pay of someone else? The PI kept back two photo's. Derek was despondent because he didn't know what was happening; he was puzzled and frightened, I thought Ann had said. Had someone else told the PI to keep back the photo's? Stephanie hated Derek, and there was a bitterness and coldness about her. Could she have tried to frame him for my murder? To do that she would have to organise my demise, but that seemed extreme!

It all came together. Derek was exactly what Ann said he was, a good friend trying to act in her best interests. Of course he wanted his business to survive, but he really did love Ann, and was in love with her. 

Now I knew I was jumping to conclusions, following intuition, but I was sure in my guts that Derek was innocent and that Stephanie was insanely vengeful.

I phoned work. Jenny answered, and assured me that she could cope. Damn it, that girl could more than cope.

I got in the car and I drove to Derek's mansion. I was about to do something totally impulsive and illogical and I was eagerly looking forward to it.

The gate was shut but unlocked so I left the car on the road and walked up to the house. Up till then I had not thought that he might not be at home and that I should have phoned. 

'Too late now,' I thought. I rang the bell and after a short while, just before I was to ring it for the second time, Derek opened the door. Yes. He was surprised.

He looked bad. Dishevelled hair, two days' growth on his face and a dressing gown that clearly needed a wash.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, more puzzled than aggravated

"Derek," I said, "I need to talk to you. It's important. A matter of life and death. Can I come in?"

He stood back mutely, and I passed him.

"Kitchen?" I asked. He nodded, and while he disappeared upstairs I scouted round and made coffee. It seemed he didn't drink tea but I forgave that character defect. 

He took some time to re-emerge, because he had showered, shaved, dressed and combed his hair and looked much better. I pushed the mug of coffee towards him.

"So?" he asked. Boy, the man was depressed!

"So," I repeated. "Derek, you may not realise it or believe it but I've tried to keep an open mind about who did this to me. So while Colin and Keith have closed the case, sure of your guilt, I couldn't help thinking there was something wrong with the whole business. 

"You can thank Ann for that, she's never believed you anything but innocent and at first in view of the evidence I couldn't understand her attitude. But I realise now that it was this certainty of hers that made me uneasy, even though I did think then that you were the guilty party."

"But not now?" he asked, suddenly coming to life, light coming into his eyes.

"Let's go over it," I said. "Three of your workmen try to kill me and obliterate my face. O'Malley works for you and leads me to them. The money used to pay them comes from your business account, and there's no attempt to cover the tracks. The payment to fictitious people is clumsy to say the least. So that more or less sews it up. You're guilty!"

"But--"

"Wait Derek," I interrupted his interruption, "It has struck me that the victim in all that evidence is not me, but you."

"What? You mean I've been--"

"Yes," I said. "I think you've been framed. You always said you'd been framed, but you thought I did it. 

"Let's look at it. 

"There are things that don't fit. The person who paid off the lads was a very tall man but I know that the police went through all your acquaintances, family and friends and couldn't find him. 

"The PI from York phoned you. That's weird. He had photo evidence but didn't give you all of it. Now that could have been you ensuring that the story of me going off with someone else held up, but you would have chosen a PI to help you to engineer that; he would not have chosen you. Finally, O'Malley couldn't make a direct connection between you and himself regarding the affair either."

Derek sat in thought. I drew breath and ploughed on.

"If I asked you, Derek, does anyone hate you enough to put you inside for fifteen years? Would anyone come to mind? Don't tell me, just think."

Derek's face showed a dawning realisation. "That question of yours about passwords. I didn't understand it then but now... I think I do!"

"Right," I said. "Now listen. I went to see Stephanie, you know that. Well, she said two things which I've only just connected. The first was that you were incompetent at accounting and the cash side of your business."

I was surprised that he nodded morosely. 

"That's right," he said. "She did all the accounts until we parted."

"You've made the connection about the passwords. She still has access to your accounts, and she knows you won't understand if she, let's say, fiddles a little with them. That was the first thing.

"Second thing. She said you had never spoken to her since the divorce started. Right?"

"Right," he said. He was sitting upright now. There was hope sparkling in his eyes.

"But then she said that she thought the photo's from York made it easier for you to get into Ann's knickers."

"That's not true--"

"Derek, think!" I shouted at him. "If you didn't tell her about the photo's, how did she know about them?"

The light dawned fully, the sun rose in his mind. All was clear.

"The tall man," he said, out of the blue. "Six feet five. Well built. Her cousin Graham. Why didn't I think of him before?"

"You've been divorced a long time." I said.

There was a silence. I broke it.

"Derek, to begin with I thought you were the man who did this. I thought you wanted my wife for yourself and had me killed to get her, and of course money for your business which is collapsing, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"Everything fitted," I continued. "Except that Ann consistently refused to believe it. I gave her short shrift again and again, but she was obdurate. I assure you, Derek, that though I believed you were guilty, I have never publicly said to anyone that you were the culprit. Nor did Colin or Keith or David. We just searched for evidence, and we did quite well."

"So what now?" he asked.

"I'll talk to Colin," I said. "I'll put this information before the police. Your defence lawyers need to know that there is another explanation. I don't think there's a jury could convict you with this alternative in view."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, puzzled.

"You cared for Ann. You love her. You spent hours while I was away supporting her. You're a good man Derek. I owe you a lot, and talking of owing, I want to talk business with you."




The Way Back Ch. 10



He was in serious trouble. All his orders had dried up, creditors were lining up and bankruptcy looked inevitable. The house was heavily mortgaged and he stood to lose it. He was well aware of his position. Half a million would get the heat off, but he was no businessman; he was a hands-on workman, and clever with design and fabrication. He lacked balance in the work he would take on, and while he could fulfil the role of day-to-day site manager more than ably, he couldn't sort out profitable contracts or do his accounting effectively. Stephanie had done all that.

I told him to hang in there, and refer all enquiries to our firm. I would discuss his situation with Geoff and Ann, and try to work out a plan for him. He looked relieved. At that we shook hands and I saw a smile on his face for the first time. I left him and went to work.

I made one serious omission and it nearly cost Ann and me our lives.

------ 

FORTY-NINE

I wanted to help Derek. He'd done so much and had been given so little credit. It still made me feel uncomfortable that he'd been in bed with Ann, but he loved her, and he still loved her. However I'm no fool. He was not exactly the most competent person in the world!

So I enlisted the help of Geoff and Jenny, and I called in one of our most promising accounting secretaries, Lucy Ruskin, who had good accounting qualifications. She was thirty-five and divorced. She didn't have any children, so was always willing to put in a little extra time. She was a good-looking woman, not astoundingly pretty but not plain either. She was slim with auburn hair that she always had cut in a bob.

We argued round the matter for a long time. They couldn't believe that Derek could be innocent and thought I was being foolish, but I stubbornly wanted to help him and eventually they accepted it. I equally did not want to pour good money after bad, so we isolated his strengths and his weaknesses. It was Geoff who came up with a solution.

"Draw up a partnership agreement. He won't need a full time salesperson for appointments, nor a full time accountant. He's shown he can do the actual jobs so with our support he's safe enough." 

Geoff looked round. "How would you feel about helping him with timing jobs, taking orders, Jenny? And you Lucy, could you keep tabs on his credits and debits -- tax etc? Part time you understand. Allan, you can keep him company overall, interviews etc."

"Seems a good plan," I said. "If you two would help. Extra pay commensurate. Only a few hours a week."

"OK with me," said Jenny. 

"And me," said Lucy.

"Can we stand the outlay?" I asked Geoff.

"No problem," he said. "He'll have to pay it back, sort of dividend I reckon. How's that?"

"Get David in to sort the legal side," I replied. 

"What about getting Derek to sort the physical alterations to the new building?" I asked. "Get him on track again. He gets time to sort himself out and we get the job done in house."

Geoff agreed and that concluded the meeting.

A brief consultation with David revealed that a decent agreement could be drawn up and I phoned Derek and told him roughly what we proposed. He fell over himself to agree and was so grateful I felt embarrassed.

That evening I went to the house. It was a weekday, so homework meant no playtime with Dad for the lads, though Greta stayed and chatted for a few minutes before going out to meet her friends.

We sat down in the living room and this time I sat on the sofa, rather than in 'my' chair. Ann smiled and came to sit by me. We half faced each other and relaxed. 

"I went to see Derek today," I said and sat back.

"Pardon?" she said. "Did I hear you aright?"

"You did. You remember I told you about Stephanie having the passwords to Derek's accounts? Well, I suddenly saw the significance of something else about Stephanie," and I told her about what Stephanie had said.

"So, if you put everything together, Stephanie is definitely in the frame."

"But I still can't get over how killing you hurts Derek," she said.

Once again she was trying to be fair.

"I don't think you met her did you?" I said. She shook her head.

"Well, there's something of the manic about her. She's cold. She's cold and brittle, bleak. Almost psychopathic. Full of hatred. She firmly believes you were the woman who committed adultery with her man. So she kills me, which destroys you. Then she fits Derek up for the crime. I think she's a dangerous vengeful woman."

"But," she said. I loved this woman and her thirst for truth. How could I ever have doubted her honesty? 

"But," she said, "killing you might put Derek in the picture but only if anyone knew who you were. Why kill you and make you unrecognisable? Then there are the photo's of you and Felicia, that's her name isn't it? No one could have foreseen that you'd meet a cousin! It doesn't fit."

"The money definitely came from Derek's accounts, so as far as I can see, it's him or her. And listen to this from me Ann, you are right. Derek is not the guilty one."

"So you went to see him. Why?"

"Two things. One, to tell him what I'd found out. He caught on very quickly, and it seemed to me he could see Stephanie doing what I think she did. I wanted to tell him I didn't think there was any chance of him being found guilty. Put his mind at rest.

"You should have seen the change in him: a big smile and he sat up."

"And the second thing?" she asked, smiling happily at me. She was such a good listener. 

"To offer him some help in getting out of his financial troubles," I said.

"Oh, Allan! You haven't changed at all. You were always helping people out. You used to say 'No point in having money if you don't use it.' So generous," and she hugged me. It felt very nice. I said so, so she did it again.

So we talked about what Geoff and I had planned, and she liked it, saying that Derek was very good at his job, but needed the office work taking care of. She also said he needed to lose some of his chauvinism and I promised to alert the two girls to that need and we both laughed. Ann thought he was in for a rough time.

Then it became silent and serious for a bit.

"So where are we?" she asked, anxious all of a sudden.

"I've still got a lot of issues," I said, "but not with you. You were right, they are inside me, and perhaps as you said I need some psychiatric help. I've been busy re-establishing my life and my memories, trying to track down who did this to me. I need to work out where these rages of mine come from since they're triggered by quite trivial things said or done. 

"That said, I know now that I love you and I'm conscious of wanting to aim towards coming back to you. You said we are still married in reality but obviously I can't feel that. I feel that I want to move towards marriage with you but I need to work through my mental baggage that seems to be surfacing now the physical side of my recovery has got as far as it's going to go. So..." and I lapsed into silence.

"Allan, you've no idea how much what you've just said means to me. I'll wait as long as it takes. You are sure now that Derek is in the past for me, no matter what, aren't you? That I'm all yours now and for the future?"

I nodded. "Yes. I can't believe how I could ever have mistrusted you, but there are still emotional reactions to your life with him, that he was your lover and you were his. I have to get over those as well. But yes, I trust you to be faithful to me as I will be to you. I've said it before--"

"You're faithful to your women," she said laughing. Then the laughter stopped and she was serious. "I have to get over you having two lovers as well, you know."

It had never entered my head that she would feel the same reactions; that she would have imagined the intimacies I shared with them as excluding her and leaving her lonely and bereft, once she knew who I was and what had happened to me. 

It was sobering. Once again I had been too wrapped up in my own feelings to consider things from her point of view, but this opened me up a little more to her side of the fence.

I felt it getting too much for me.

"I'd better go," I said. "I didn't sleep too well last night and I'm bushed."

I made the rounds of the children and left, but not before another smouldering kiss from Ann, which I returned with affection, and some arousal. It felt very good.

I really felt we were on our way.

------ 

FIFTY

It began as an ordinary Tuesday. 

We all get up day after day and expect the day to be like the others; that by the end of it we will be safely tucked up in the beds we are now leaving. Except that once in a lifetime, an ordinary day is different. By the end of it life is totally different. In one way or another sometimes we come face to face with death.

David brought the agreement, and Derek came in and we examined it and signed it. Derek met Jenny, whom he remembered from the dinner dance, and he met Lucy. She left with him to go over his books and his computer, saying it was time he learned about passwords. I warned Lucy not to do his housework! 

Geoff and I looked at each other and I hoped he was thinking as I was, that this would work, and not that we'd done something incredibly stupid.

I had diverted so much time to Derek and Ann that I needed to catch up with what Jenny had done in my absence and it took all day.

It was late afternoon when my own phone rang. It was Greta and she was very agitated.

"Dad," she babbled, "a woman came and told Mum Uncle Peter was in hospital, not too serious, an accident, and could she go with them to collect his car from their place and take it home for him. He went to hospital by ambulance."

"So?" I said.

"But she said she was from Uncle Peter's office but I've been working there and I know everyone. I don't know her or the man in her car, and Uncle Peter isn't in Manchester today, he's in Birmingham."

Suddenly a ripple of fear shot through me.

"Greta," I asked urgently, "their car, what was it like?"

"Blue BMW Registration IZ 02 QZD."

I knew who the woman was, I had seen the car before, at Stephanie's. A little extra would help be sure.

"What did she look like?"

"About your age, Dad, tall and thin, like a model. Lots of make-up. She had really big hands, Dad."

And mum didn't know her?" 

"No."

"Did they see you, know you were there?"

"No."

"Did you get a chance to tell Mum?"

"No she'd only just got in and I was in my room. I don't think she knew I was home. I ran downstairs but she'd gone with them."

"OK chicken," I said, "Look after the lads. I'll be with you later on."

It was Stephanie. What did she want with Ann? I 'ran' to Geoff's office.

"Geoff, Ann's been abducted, come on, we've got to get after her."

He started and then immediately sprang to his feet and we went to his car.

"I'll drive," he said, "How d'you know where she'll be?"

"Derek's Ex., she's taken her, I bet they'll go to her house. They'll con her into going inside then keep her there. God knows what they plan to do."

Our works wasn't far from the motorway that also led past the Fanshaw house, but Stephanie would have to go through suburban roads in the rush hour from our house to the same place. We had a chance of getting there before they did. I gave Geoff the address and we were off.

I phoned Colin on his mobile.

"Colin," I said quickly, "Stephanie Fanshaw has abducted Ann. Blue BMW," and gave the registration, "going to her house I reckon," and gave the address.

"You sure, Allan?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I replied, "The only thing I'm not sure about is that they'll go to her house. I just think they'll never think of anyone connecting them to her disappearance."

"Hang on," he said, and there was silence for a long minute.

"OK," he said, "The call is out for the BMW to all areas incase they go elsewhere, and I'm on my way to the house with help. How d'you know what happened?"

"Greta was in the house. She heard. She knew the message they gave Ann was false and phoned me."

"Got a sighting on CCTV. They're going in the direction of her house." 

"No sirens Colin." 

"I know. We have done this sort of thing before, you know."

"When I get there I'm going in. Geoff is with me, he'll back me up."

"Allan don't--"

I hung up.

When we got to the house the car was already there. I fished out Geoff's gizmo and its remote microphone, giving him the recorder and fixing the mike behind the lapel of my jacket. 

"Geoff, when I'm inside get to the front door. If you hear me say 'Geoffrey', hammer on the door if it's shut. I'll try to leave it open in which case come running."

"OK."

"Tell Colin, when he arrives, and let him and the others listen in."

"You going to be alright?"

"I don't care. It's Ann that matters."

"Be careful."

I gave him a look and walked to the house. I didn't know what I was going to say, but there was no time to work anything out.

When I got there the front door was not properly shut -- they had clearly only just arrived; the car was warm, so I rang the bell and walked in, pushing the door to behind me, careful not to shut it properly.

Stephanie came rushing down the stairs, and looked startled to see me.

"Mr Jonsson!" she said breathlessly. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"I was passing; door was open, and I thought you might like to know some of the things I've found out about my family problems."

"Well, I'm rather pushed at the moment." 

There was a noise from upstairs. I looked up.

"My cousin's come to stay, so--"

"I think you ought to hear what I have to say. In fact I don't think I can go until I've shared it with you."

She shrugged unwillingly and led me into the living room. The noises continued from upstairs.

"He's getting his stuff unpacked," she offered. Then, "So what have you found out?"

"First and foremost, Derek is not the person who organised my 'death'."

"Rubbish," she spluttered. "Who else could it be? The money to pay your killers came out of his accounts."

"That's very a interesting statement! I'll come back to it. Second, Derek did not commit adultery with my ex wife until after my disappearance. Your PI was wrong."

"This is ridiculous, you've seen the photo's. Anyway he confessed."

"Yes, he was being unfaithful, but not with Ann. With someone else, whom I've talked to and she's admitted it. Your problem was that you accused him without naming Ann, you just said you had photographic evidence. He wanted to protect his married lover so he caved in. But it was not Ann."

"It was Ann as well, then."

"You really want it to be Ann, don't you? Otherwise having me almost killed would be a dreadful error."

"What d'you mean? Are you seriously accusing me of--"

"Yes I am, and I have evidence. 

"You've said two things that prove it. The first niggled at me for days, and I couldn't place it. You talked about the photo's the PI in York took. You couldn't have known about them: you haven't spoken to Derek since the divorce, and secondly, just now you mentioned the money coming out of his accounts. No one but Derek's defence and the police know that."

"This is preposterous!" she snarled. "How could I pay anyone out of Derek's accounts?"

"You told me that as well when we met," I said. "You said that you handled all the accounts because he was useless at it. I asked him if he ever changed his passwords on his internet accounts and he said he didn't. You can still access and use his accounts, can't you?"

"Graham!" she shouted. 

There was the sound of someone hurrying downstairs, and into the room came a very tall man. I recalled O'Malley's description. 

"Graham there's a complication," she said. "Her ex-husband." She nodded at me.

"Oh dear!" he said. He was smiling but it was not a pleasant smile. "Silly thing to do, Mr Jonsson, coming after your wife."

"Ex-wife," I corrected him. "I don't understand what you hope to gain by abducting her."

"Don't be naïve Mr Jonsson," scowled Stephanie. "She has to be punished. This time she'll suffer as she ought to."

"I don't see that," I said. "She did nothing against you."

"She's an adulterous woman and she's got to pay."

"I told you, she did not have sex with your husband."

"Not true, I have all the evidence."

"You have photographs. There is an explanation for them, one that is verifiable."

"Convince me."

"When I'm ready." 

Graham made a threatening move towards me.

"First, you explain why you had to kill me. What had I done to you? Tell me and I'll give you the rest."

"I punished Derek by taking everything he had, but your Ann carried on seeing him after the divorce. She was getting off scot-free." 

Her voice rose in pitch as she warmed to the story. I was sure now she was unhinged. 

"She'd taken away my husband and was carrying on with him as if nothing had happened. You were too thick to see what was going on. She had her rich handsome husband and her lover. That had to stop. 

"She took my husband, so I would take hers. You were meant to be killed. My orders were to take you far away and take all identifying marks from you and then beat you to death, so your faithless wife would not find you. I got a PI in York to offer to help 'find' you. He was to post your ex wife a report that you had an affair with another woman. She would know what it was like to lose her husband to an affair. She would know the hurt."

"I can see a few holes in that plan," I said, "gaping holes! Why obliterate my face if I was dead?"

"I needed time for her to believe you were with another woman. They could have posted your face countrywide. They had to find your body after she married Derek, not before.

"As it happened, those stupid lads didn't get the job done, and dumped you in a public place but you were still unrecognisable." 

She paused and smiled. 

"Then the PI in York came up with those pictures, ideal bit of luck, that. There were pictures of you with another woman and I thought you wouldn't be coming back because you were dead. Now Ann would suffer. She suffered all right, I didn't realise how much she loved you, even though she was fooling around." 

I exhaled in annoyance but she carried on. "But that's what they say don't they? Women like a man to love and be secure with and then a bit of rough on the side for excitement.

"Then Derek managed to get with her." Her face showed her disgust and anger.

She was well into the story now, her eyes flashing, She was quite mad. 

"I was going to wait till they married and then a letter would reach the police. It would say where your body was, who paid to have you terminated, who fabricated the 'other woman' story. All Derek's work. 

The PI was very well paid to keep his mouth firmly shut, and more cash for him after Derek was banged up. She would suffer again, knowing Derek was behind it all. Then she'd be really on her own.

"Then you turned up, so I had to hold off. As it happens you did part of my job for me, you led the police to Derek yourself. 

"And now I learn you're getting back with Ann. She's getting away with it again. That can't happen."

"But the whole basis of your murderous idiocy is false," I was getting frustrated.

"Convince me," She curled her lip and I could tell she wasn't prepared to believe me.

"Ann was asked by a friend to run some 'Slimming Works' meetings at the Hotel in Timperley. The friend was having a baby. So Ann ran the meetings for six months. The meetings are an hour long, about thirty people on average attend each week. 

"Derek wanted to lose weight -- you know how overweight he was, and he joined; he had no idea Ann was running it until he got there. Anyway while he was there he met this woman and they had an affair, she was overweight too. 

"Ann didn't realise it. You know the photo of Ann and Derek entering the motel room? After Derek arrived, Ann left shortly after but the PI must have missed her. It was lunchtime, I'll bet he went to the chippy next door, thinking they were having sex and wouldn't be out for a while. Meanwhile the other woman arrived. Derek used the room Ann had booked; he'd said he wanted an afternoon and evening to think, away from work. 




The Way Back Ch. 10



"The pair stayed there all afternoon. Your PI must have gone home to miss them coming out afterwards. You've got the wrong woman. You tried to kill the wrong man."

"No," she said. "She was fucking Derek as well. Almost admire him, two women on the go at once!"

"Well," Graham's voice cut across our talk. "We've got a problem. You. And her." 

He pulled a gun from his belt and I heard the click of the safety catch.

Now in Britain there is gun crime in the inner cities, but ninety-nine percent of the population have never seen a real gun in the flesh, so to speak. I know I hadn't. Let's face it, even our police aren't armed routinely.

"Stand up, Jonsson," I stood up. I was frightened, really frightened.

"What's your plan then Graham?" I asked as belligerently as I could manage, trying to keep the quaver out of my voice. "You going to shoot the pair of us? That's going to leave a lot of evidence around and all of it pointing to you and Stephanie here."

"Oh, it won't be here," he scoffed. "We'll take a little drive in your car. I have friends in town, we'll take care of you both properly this time. No evidence. The car will be incinerated with you two in it. Don't worry, you won't suffer, you'll already be dead. No mistakes this time.

"But before we go, I'll teach you to come meddling and I'll punish her as the slut she is. A good fucking while you watch, I think. Good looking woman, shame to waste her really. Come to think of it, our friends might like a piece of her as well.

"Now," he said, gesturing with the gun. "Hands on your head! You walk slowly out of the room. You lead me slowly upstairs; I'll be right behind you. Steph, you'll hold the gun on him while I have my fun with the Mrs. 

"Move, Jonsson!"

Of course I did as I was told. I moved. I realised he really hadn't been thinking clearly. In fact, I don't think he had much intelligence at all. Had he never heard of DNA? There would already be plenty in the house. The pair weren't really very clever but she was the more intelligent and the driving force, though I knew for certain she was insane. 

In any case the plan had already failed. There was no car, since we came in Geoff's and I could make sure Graham used the gun in the house before I'd allow him to touch Ann. I was very, very angry at his arrogance, and adrenaline had countered my fear. My flight reflex had turned to fight. He could kill me but I'd take him down with the evidence of my death splattered all over the house.

I walked slowly through the door with my hands on my head, and turned to the left for the stairs, As I mounted the first step I shouted, "Geoffrey!"

"Who--" my assailant began, but did not finish. The front door slammed open, there was loud yelling and a crash behind me, and the gun went scuttering along the hall floor by the stairs. I turned to see Graham and a large policeman in a pile on the hall floor. 

Stephanie screamed and started beating on the policeman's back until other officers pulled her off.

Apparently, I learned later, the noise and shouting distracted Graham who turned away from me and towards the front door, through which four or five officers were bursting, the leading officer's momentum knocking Graham over, and falling on top of him!

I turned back and climbed the stairs as quickly as I could, oblivious to the warnings Colin was shouting. I knew it was only Ann who was up there. I tried two bedrooms before I found her. She was tied to a chair, stripped down to her bra and knickers, her body pulled forward to the edge of it, her legs taped to each leg of the chair so that they were apart and her sex was on view and available through the taut fabric of her knickers. Her eyes were at first wild with fear but then with relief as she saw who it was. 

Her arms were tied behind her to the back of the chair, pushing her breasts forward, and she was gagged with duck tape. I gently removed the gag, hushing her as she began to cry. Then kneeling down, carefully undid the duck tape round her arms and then her legs, at which she fell forward into my arms. It must have hurt as the tape pulled at the fine hairs on her limbs, but there was no other way to free her.

We were both in tears, shaking and shivering with delayed shock, and that's how the woman police officer found us. She prized Ann's arms from around me and helped her to dress. She was asking her if she had been assaulted. I was still on the floor, and my knees were killing me.

"You can get up now, old friend," came Colin's voice from behind me.

"I bloody well can't," I snarled, and immediately felt his arms under my armpits, lifting me up. My legs buckled and he held me until I could stand. Ann and I were wrapped in blankets by Paramedics and taken downstairs and to a waiting ambulance. I was not aware of very much. Ann held onto my arm tightly all the way to hospital. Not a word had passed between us the whole time, but she kept spasmodically squeezing my arm all the while. 

Before I allowed them to take me into A & E, I phoned Greta, and found that she was holding the fort well. 

"Jenny arrived and told me about your adventure," she was clearly worried, "Are you OK Daddy?"

I reassured her and rang off.

We spent about four hours in separate cubicles at the hospital, and eventually I simply got up and wandered out. A nurse bustled up to me and told me to go back, but I pointed out quite forcibly that I was over the shock and was going home. At this Ann appeared from another cubicle.

"Take me with you," she said and I offered my arm. She smiled that smile of hers, and tucked her arm in mine. We left after signing a release form to indemnify the hospital, and calling a taxi, were driven home.

"Come home," she said. "I can't face being alone tonight."

So I went home. The boys greeted us with great enthusiasm and then Greta came out. Stood a moment, burst into tears and ran to us. We had a three-way hug until she quietened.

"All in one piece," I said, which provoked another round of tears. So, arm in arm in arm we stumbled into the house.

Jenny had cooked a stew. The children and she had eaten long since, but we felt hungry and ate with enthusiasm. Jenny told us that Geoff phoned her and asked her to help Greta out, telling her the story. We had little to say, glad to be simply warm and safe. Ann kept shooting adoring glances at me, which made me feel rather uncomfortable.

Later on Jenny helped Ann to bed the boys down, and then left. Ann and I sat in the living room. I felt whacked, and Ann looked very tired.

"Allan."

"Yes?"

"Stay the night?"

"OK."

"With me?"

I was uncertain of the wisdom of it, and my delay in answering conveyed this to her perfectly.

"Allan, you don't have to do anything, just hold me."

I stood and held out my hands to her, pulling her out of her chair. I put my arm round her shoulders and felt hers go round my waist. So entwined we climbed the stairs. We passed Greta's room and she looked up. Her smile lit up her face as she realised where we were going together, and then, once again, she dissolved in tears. 

Ann disengaged and went to her and I stood in the doorway. They whispered together and before long Greta was smiling through her tears. She looked at me and I knew I had to hug her goodnight. Ann got out of my way and I sat and took my daughter in my arms.

"We need an early night, Chicken. The excitement has done for me."

"You're Mum's hero, you know that?" said a still tearful but happy Greta. "You came riding to the rescue on your big white horse."

"Well actually in Geoff's Merc," I answered.

Greta laughed. "But you saved her life, Dad."

"No Greta, it was you who saved her life. If you hadn't had the presence of mind to phone me, and without your description, I wouldn't have known who it was. You're the star."

Ann nodded from the door. "I'm so proud of you," she said.

"Good night, God Bless," I said, kissing my daughter's head.

"Good night, Daddy," she said, hugging my waist, with a pride I felt I did not really deserve.

Ann had gone. I used the bathroom and entered the bedroom, her bedroom. She was already in bed, only her head visible. I stripped down to my boxers and climbed in beside her. Shock. She was naked.

"Allan," she reproved me, "we've never slept in clothing. Are you going to start now?"

I dutifully pushed my boxers off. I would like to say I began to get an erection, but it would be a lie. I was too tired. Ann scooted over to me and we entwined our bodies quite naturally. I felt her soft breasts against my chest, her legs either side of one of mine, pushing her vulva against me, her hairs prickling my thigh.

"Your body hasn't forgotten how we always used to cuddle, even if you have!" she smiled that oh so loving smile, as we lay eye to eye.

I was drifting off when I heard "Thank you my darling." Or perhaps I dreamed it, but I don't think so. 

However, the night was far from peaceful. Ann had nightmares, sitting up in bed and shouting, quivering or sobbing. I had to wake her again and again. About four, as vestiges of light became to show in the east, she settled and I slept. The next thing I knew it was morning, and the alarm sounded. I quelled it but Ann did not stir, so I had to.

------ 

FIFTY-ONE

So Wednesday was yet another manic day. 

Disconnect the phone in the bedroom and shut the door to let Ann sleep. Get kids up for breakfast and schools. 

Answer the phone. A reporter. Put phone down. Check everyone had everything they needed. Answer the phone, the BBC, put phone down. See children off after checking we were not once again besieged by reporters at the gate. Answer the phone, assure Geoff we were still ok, but that I would not be in. Answer the phone, ask the police to call later in the morning -- like lunchtime -- for statements. 

Phone Ann's office telling them that she would not be in and that I didn't know when she would be. Make tea for Ann, who I hear using the bathroom. Answer the phone and tell the BBC no comment. Change answer-phone message as before and let it ring.

Take tea to Ann, who's sitting up in bed looking lost. I admire her firm breasts, the exhibition of which she does not notice. Does she want some breakfast? I go down and toast some English muffins. 

I tidy the kitchen while Ann has breakfast in bed. There's a knock at the door. A reporter. I invite him to choose his own destination but suggest a couple as long as he leaves here. I invite Ann to dress before the police arrive. 

Doorbell. The police, or rather Colin and a female high-ranking police officer in uniform. I feel impressed and honoured by such rank. I tell Colin so. I am told by him not to take the piss. Ann comes down dressed and looking tired but tidy. I make coffee for everyone, after all it is eleven thirty.

At this point everything slowed right down. Making statements to the English police is a unique experience. You travel back in time from the electronic age. You dictate your statement to the officer, who writes it down longhand, often in pencil. Each sentence is discussed. The day stretches before you into the far future as you inch through the events, ensuring that what is written is absolutely accurate. 

Ann learned the details of my part in the drama. I learned of the minor sexual assaults of Graham on her, drawing his finger along the gusset of her knickers and his hand over her bra-covered breasts. I became very angry but it was a pointless feeling. The other officer, Joyce Frederick, said I'd prevented a worse assault. It was some help I suppose.

"Well, the Fanshaws certainly saved us the trouble of building a case against them," said Colin. "What they did yesterday, and the other evidence you put together will convict them of your assault and this second attempted murder. Your little gizmo got the whole conversation -- all the evidence we need."

By the time we were finished, it was early afternoon. They left and we ate beans on toast, smiling at each other across the kitchen table. Suddenly Ann looked aghast.

"Work!" she cried. "I should be at work!"

"I phoned them," I said. "You're not going in till next week. They were very worried about you."

She relaxed.

After the meal we continued to sit where we were. I suddenly felt exhausted, and as often happened when I was very tired, my various injuries began to play up. This time the pain was stronger than usual. 

Strange that it was in that moment I knew. Whatever had been holding me back had evaporated with the events of the previous day and the night we spent together. I knew already that I loved Ann and thought that she loved me: after all she'd made that obvious for weeks. 

Now I knew I had to come home, to be with her. There was a feeling of worry about my sudden bouts of temper but even that seemed unreal now. My own actions had revealed my true feelings for Ann. It turned out I was wrong.

"I'd like to come home," I said. "I mean really come home."

Ann looked at me. If I was expecting a rapturous smile and open arms, I was to be disappointed. 

Instead she looked uncertain. 

"I don't know," she said with a frown.

My anger started to rise again; in pain and weariness it happens easily. I had been right to worry about it.

She could tell I was angry. 

"Allan," she said sharply, "you said you would control your anger."

She was right, I had. So I did. Indeed I slumped back in my chair, my posture reflecting my feelings. Suddenly I felt I couldn't take any more of this. I needed to be alone, to take my stronger painkillers and to sleep. I had had enough.

I got up slowly, my joints creaking, turned and made for the door. 

"OK, I'm not coming home. I'm going back to the flat."

At this she became animated. 

"No, Allan!" she cried, "I'll explain! Please don't go without listening to me."

"No," I said flatly, feeling all her rejection as a heavy weight. "I'm going. I'm exhausted and in pain and you have rejected me. When you're ready to accept me, you'll have to ask. Then I'll decide, and after this, it's not a foregone conclusion. I certainly won't ask you again."

"Please," she begged, her agitation growing, "I really need to explain."

"I told you. I'm too tired. Goodbye," I said and walked out.

Of course, as I entered the flat, I knew this was not the end of the matter. The phone was already ringing.

It was David. He did not waste any time.

"Allan," he said, "Ann has phoned Vivienne, and Viv is keeping her promise not to interfere. What's going on? Ann's in floods of tears and babbling that you've left her. After yesterday she needs you; emotionally she's not that strong."

I sat down with the phone, "It may have escaped your notice that I'm not that strong at the moment either. I was there with Ann you know. I'm very tired and in a lot of pain. I don't need this. 

"Last night she begged me to stay overnight in her bed for comfort, David. I nursed her all night through her nightmares, so don't lecture me on how weak she is. You are aware that she's been saying I belong with her and she'll wait until I'm ready to go back? Well, this afternoon I asked her if I could go home. 

"She did not say yes, David. She said 'I don't know'. I've had it up to here with her. When she does know she can ask me to go back, and I'm not promising I will, after being kicked in the teeth like that. OK? Now I'm going to bed."

"Oh," he said.

"Yes. Pass the good news on to Viv will you?" and I hung up. 

There were no further calls. I took my pills, and crashed. It was four in the afternoon and I did not wake up until six the next morning. I still ached, but felt refreshed. I lay abed until seven, listening to the ramblings of the DJ on the radio, and then got up and went to work.

My reception was, if not frosty, without enthusiasm from my PA. Jenny made no comment but the atmosphere was not warm. I assumed it was to do with Ann and my disagreement. I did not care; in fact it made things easier. There was little for me to do. 

Jenny announced that she was going over to see Derek and taking Lucy with her for the first meeting. She did not invite me. Geoff was preoccupied with a tricky little problem. So I decided to go and see my staff at the Health Club. I left a message with Judy where I was going and that I would not be back that day.

I put the terrified girl who had been rude to me before at her ease, assuring her that her job was safe but she would have to undergo training. Then I talked with Martin.

Our meeting was constructive, once I'd told him I wasn't going to interfere beyond bringing in someone for some in-service training in customer relations, and that I thought he was doing a good job. He was intrigued by my latest escapade which he said was all over the local news the night before. I learned from him that Stephanie was remanded to a secure hospital and that her cousin was remanded in custody until their trial at the crown court, which would be lumped in with that of the three thugs and O"Malley.

By the end of the meeting we were getting along well. I told him I'd want to see the books and get to know the staff. Gary was not in that day, so I left a message that his job was safe, provided he underwent training and was less threatening.

I went home. At least something constructive had been done, and I felt better on the drive back. However, on entering the flat all my depression about Ann and our parting the day before surfaced again. I set about making a curry to keep my mind off it as long as possible. I snacked on fruit by way of lunch and let the curry develop slowly in the oven. I took a nap in the afternoon, and was taking the curry out of the oven about four-thirty when the doorbell rang. My spirits sank. Who was coming to tell me what to do?

Greta. She stood nervously at the door.

"Come in, then," I smiled and she relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief. She hugged me and I hugged her. She went and got herself a drink of fruit juice and sat herself down in the living area.

"I suppose you know why I'm here," she said, looking at me anxiously.

"Yep! You're going to tell me about Mum and how upset she is. Well, Chick, so am I. This time she's going to have to come to me."

"Oh, you two!" she grumbled, "both of you as obstinate as each other! I don't understand. You went to bed together."

Did I have to explain? Well, she was nearly eighteen. 

She interrupted my thoughts with, "If you think Mum's sent me you're wrong. This is me. I want a bit of peace! Can't you both patch it up?"

"Did Mum tell you why I left?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She told you she wasn't sure about you coming back."

"Right. After telling me over and over how we are still really married, how she still wants me. Then as soon as I say I want to come home, she says she doesn't want me."

"She didn't say she didn't want you, Dad."

"No she said something which amounts to the same thing. When she's sure, she has to come here and ask me nicely to come home."

"She may want to talk first."

"No more talk. This has gone on long enough. Either I come home. Or I don't."

"Oh." She looked thoughtful. Then she brightened. "But I could come and tell you what she wants to say, couldn't I?"

"I can hardly stop you, my darling daughter, can I?" I laughed, "but it doesn't mean I'll reply to you. She has to come here."

"I still don't understand all this, I mean, you went to bed that night."

"Mum wanted company, comfort, security. That's all."

Greta smiled knowingly.

"No, Greta," I snapped. "I mean exactly that. Just someone to be with her. She was afraid, She kept waking up with nightmares all during the night. I was knackered in the morning."

"She did last night as well. She could have done with you again. And she still..." Her sentence petered out as she realised the contrast in Ann's attitude between the night before and the next day.




The Way Back Ch. 10



"OK, Dad," she said rising, "I get it. I'll tell her."

We hugged again, told each other we loved each other and then she went home, carrying my love to her mother and brothers. She was one very mature girl.

What I hadn't expected, and even now I wonder why I hadn't expected it, was for Ann to turn up on the doorstep later in the evening. She stood at the door exactly a mirror image of our daughter. I stood back in an invitation to enter, which she did, going to the living area and sitting down on the sofa exactly as Greta had. I thought there must be something genetic in it.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked.

"No thanks."

I was right, she meant business.

I sat in my chair. There was a silence, but she was not uncomfortable. I waited. Then she smiled.

"Allan," she said. "When you asked to come home, it came as a surprise. I wasn't at my best either. I know you don't want to talk about it, but we will have to eventually. For now, please, my darling, will you come home? Tonight? Please? For good?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. I sat for a moment, wondering what to say. It can't have been a few seconds when I realised I didn't want to play any more games. 

"Thanks, Ann. Yes, I would like to come home tonight."

She dived for me and fell onto my knee, somewhat painfully in my case, hugging me tight, her head buried in my neck, and before very long I felt the wetness. Of course she was crying with happiness, and I choked up as well and the two of us bawled our heads off.

"I'm so happy," she whispered as she caught her breath.

"It's been a long time coming." I gasped.

Further comment was stifled by her mouth on mine as she kissed me ravenously and I lost no time in responding with like abandon. It was our first kiss in real earnest, or in urgent passion, and it melted away all the tension in my mind. 

However, it raised a certain tension elsewhere and she shifted her position to accommodate the bulge now appearing in my trousers. She looked deeply into my eyes, and there was intense love there. She made no mention of my erection, this first greeting was more important than sex. 

Did I really say that? Yes, and it was true.

She pecked my lips again and then she stood up. I looked at her raising a non-existent eyebrow in a question.

"I'll go home now," she said. "Will you follow in a bit, say an hour? Then I have some things to discuss with you, practicalities, nothing about the past."

"OK, see you there, when I've packed a few things." 

She left and I packed two suitcases and my suits. The rest could wait until the weekend. My excitement grew as I drove closer to what was now 'our' house.

Before I turned into our Lane, I had to thread my way through a number of parked cars on Woodhouse Lane. 'Someone's having a party,' I thought smiling. 'Well, perhaps there'll be a little party at our house as well.'

I turned into our drive. There was Ann's car. I pulled up and made my way to the front door, and, using my key, went in. The house was silent. I smiled. Ann had seen to it that the children were elsewhere. Very thoughtful. I called out.

"I'm in the living room," came Ann's shout. I opened the door to the living room and walked in.

I stopped. I was faced with a crowd of laughing and smiling people, shouting 'Welcome Home' and 'Congratulations' and Ann looking worried. There was David and Vivienne, Peter and Jenny, Colin, Geoff and Susan, Claire and Kevin her husband, Greta, Jan and Stefan of course, who to my surprise did not come to me for their customary hugs and there in the background, trying to look inconspicuous was Derek. I stopped dead, mystified.

The noise died away and Ann came to me, and took my hands in hers.

"Allan, my darling," she said, and I could feel her trembling. "I asked everyone to come tonight. I hoped you'd come home, but they were going to cheer me up if you didn't. I have apologised to all these our friends for my lack of faith in you when they would not believe you had left me. Now I have to apologise formally to you and ask your forgiveness for my failure to look for you when you disappeared. Will you forgive me?"

"You know I already have," I replied. "We need to put this behind us now. We can start again, can't we?"

She smiled that wonderful smile of hers and we hugged and kissed, to the applause of all our friends. Then everyone got on with the party, for that was what it was.

The drinks flowed and the food was eaten and the music played softly in the background, this was a talking party, not a dancing and miming one. Ann disappeared to act the hostess, and I made my way round our friends. When I got to Derek, he looked at little shamefaced and uncertain.

"I want to thank you for what you've done for me," he said.

I was about to dismiss his thanks when he continued.

"I think I'm responsible for Ann's abduction," he said sadly. "I just didn't think, and I certainly didn't think Steph was capable of something like that."

"I don't understand."

"I was so pleased that everything was going so well after you left, and the two girls came over to get me started again, that I did what I've not done for over a year, I phoned Stephanie. 

"I told her exactly what I thought of her and I'm afraid I was crowing about you and Ann getting back together and my business getting back on its feet. I told her she was wrong about Ann. Then she pulled that stupid trick. God knows what would have happened if Greta hadn't been at home. I'm sorry Allan."

I had wondered briefly why Stephanie had done what she did when she did it, but there had been so much else happening that I'd not pursued it. What Derek said made sense, but none of us was to know what she'd do, or the extent to which she'd carry her insane revenge. I told Derek so, and he looked relieved.

Then Vivienne came up. She had 'that look' on her face, the 'I've got another plan' look that made me feel queasy.

"It's all right Allan," she said. "This time it's not my plan, but I've come to warn you. Ann doesn't know I'm doing this but I don't want any more trouble between you."

I was mystified. "So--" was all I got out.

"Ann's going to propose to you in front of everyone," she said. "I thought if you weren't prepared it might be embarrassing for you and for her. Have I done the right thing for once?"

I was stunned. Then I stammered, "Y-yes, Viv, You have. Thanks."

"So?" she asked.

"So what?" I asked in return.

"What are you going to answer?"

"You don't seriously expect me to tell you, do you?"

"Oh, good! You're going to accept!"

"You might say that, I couldn't possibly comment," I said stony faced, and we both laughed.

I continued on my rounds, until Ann asked for attention and the talking stopped. Someone changed the music to 'You are the wind beneath my wings'.

"Allan," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Please sit down. I have something to ask you."

I sat and began to speak, but she stopped me and moved in front of me. There were broad smiles all round; the atmosphere was rife with expectation.

"Let me finish please, my love. I have thanked Derek for being so kind to me while you were away, but now I have to put right a wrong. I divorced you, so we are no longer married. Since I destroyed our marriage it's up to me to try to mend it."

Here the woman went down on both knees!

"Allan," she said solemnly, looking up into my eyes. "Please will you marry me again?"

I stood and lifted her up and looked round at the crowd. They were all on edge, willing me to make a response. I was overwhelmed by Ann's brave action. It seemed a long silence, but was probably a few seconds.

"Ann," I said with a lump in my throat. "Yes. It'll be an honour and privilege to marry you -- again."

To my surprise, there was no reaction from the crowd beyond broad smiles. I suspected something else was in the wind.

"Allan," she said, "I know that to be married legally we'll have to go through a register office ceremony, but that's all it is, just legal stuff. I want to make my vows to you here now with these witnesses. Would you let me do that?"

It's strange that after all my misgivings about her over the months, I had no problem with that at all. 

She took both my hands in hers and looked into my eyes as she said the words: "I Ann give myself to you Allan to be my husband again, for better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness or health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part."

This was happening rather too quickly for me to cope with but I knew what I had to do. She'd made herself totally vulnerable by vowing her life to me in front of all our friends. Somehow that put everything right. 

I knew this woman well enough. I knew we'd had twenty years before, even if my memory of those years was still patchy. I knew she loved me and I knew at that moment that I was in love with her. Regardless of what I remembered, I loved this woman now, and if we'd had twenty good years (the photo's and videos proved it), we could have another twenty.

So I repeated the vows. When I finished I noticed she had her rings, not on her finger but in her hand. She held them out to me and I put them on her again, the engagement ring first, then the wedding ring. Then I pulled her to me and kissed her long and hard. In the distance were cheers and applause, but we were in our own world for those few minutes. Then we were assaulted by three children who forced their way between us and we had a family hug.

When we surfaced and looked round, there was already much activity. Champagne was being passed round and when everyone had a glass, Peter toasted the 'Happy Couple'. 

I thought Yes, we are.

Cries of 'speech' followed. I thanked them all for their support for me and for Ann during the past two and a half years while I was away, and I thanked Trish in her absence for my recovery. Then it was all over and we mingled. Viv looked smug.

"Don't say a word!" I snarled. 

"I won't," she said with a wicked grin. "But you can't stop me thinking!"

------ 

FIFTY-TWO 

The night of the party we made soft though passionate love. Ann said it was as if we'd never been apart, I took her word for it since I couldn't remember. I just knew it was perfect: we fitted completely. If it was just as before I must have had some real fun before our unwanted parting.

It was after all a Thursday, and there was a school and work day tomorrow. Geoff had told me I must not be seen at work until Monday, and Ann was not to be back at work till Monday either, but Greta was on work experience and the children were in school. What would we do all day on Friday?

Anyway, that Thursday night we saw the children safely off to bed, and waited until the boys were asleep. Greta made herself scarce with her trademark salacious grin missing. Instead there was a moist eyed dewy smile as she revelled in her parents' romantic second honeymoon night. We both got prolonged hugs and no comments beyond a 'goodnight.'

We ascended the stairs together and Ann sat and did what women do at her dressing table, while I used the bathroom. I sat in bed while she disappeared into the bathroom with a bag. When she emerged she took my breath away. Thanks to our wedding photo's and the video, I remembered. She was wearing the same outfit that she had had for our 'first night.' 

I said as much. "You look wonderful. It's your wedding night lingerie isn't it?"

She posed, hands on hips, one leg forward, bent at the knee. It was all in shimmering white, translucent, hinting at her body beneath. A baby doll tunic, elaborately lacy and thin enough to show her lacy thong below. White sheer thigh high stockings, and white three inch heels. 

"You remembered?" she said with surprise. 

"From the video," I said. "It's infinitely better in the flesh."

She swayed to the bed, and pulled off the duvet. I smelled that perfume that had triggered such memories at the restaurant, an event which now seemed so long ago. I took a deep, deep breath and she smiled when she saw my obvious appreciation and reaction as it reared upward and twitched. She kicked off her heels and climbed onto the bed. I made to get up onto my knees but she gently pushed me back. 

"Not on your knees," she said. "Please let me..." 

She knelt over me and began to do what my other three women had done. She traced my scars lightly and her brow furrowed, then she began to kiss each one, beginning with my chest and arms then went to my feet and legs. Then she sat up.

"I needed to do that," she said. "I want to show you I love you as you are, my darling. All of you." 

With that she began to kiss my erection, all along its length, then onto my balls, sucking them one by one into her mouth. Instinctively I opened my legs wider, and immediately she drew her tongue along my perineum, returning with tiny kisses.

"I missed you: this you," she whispered. "I longed for you, night after night. I ached for you week after long week. Now at last I've got you back. I'm so happy."

She took me into her mouth and did some magic with her tongue and cheeks. Then let go and blew gently over the tip. It was exquisite. I opened my eyes and found I was staring down her top, her breasts hanging and the nipples hard. I pulled her forward and we kissed. Then she knelt up and lifted her top off. 

Everything about what we did was gentle. She kissed me again and drifted her nipples across my chest. I traced over her back and round the sides of her breasts. She rested on me and sighed. I slipped my fingers under her gossamer thong and pushed down as far as I could. She must have done the rest, because the garment had gone.

Then she moved a stockinged leg over both my legs -- I couldn't remember pulling them together. Now her mons was pressing on my erect penis. In one fluid movement she pulled herself up over me and I was inside her smooth, silky, warm embrace.

"Home!" she gasped as she felt me sinking deeper and deeper into her centre, "You're home!"

"I love you." I said. It felt like the first time I ever told her. She kissed me as if it were.

"I love you," she said, and her vagina clamped on me. It was true. She did love me as I was.

The moment was eternal. Nothing mattered at that moment but the penetration and the acceptance. No passion but an intensity of feeling. Until she began to move. It was slow and took my penis to her entrance and then to its deepest burying, rubbing its length against her clitoris. She raised herself on her arms and looked down lovingly into my eyes.

"Yes!" she whispered, and again, "Yes!" on each stroke. Very gradually her strokes increased in tempo, and eventually she sat up and began to shorten the strokes but grinding our roots together, and rotating her hips every few strokes. I responded by thrusting upwards. She smiled at me and our tempo increased until her eyes closed, she froze in position, and then with a muffled cry, began to shake uncontrollably. Finally she fell forward on to me and measured her whole body against mine. She was panting from her exertions.

When she had quietened somewhat, she pulled off me. 

"Your turn," she said. "Time to take your wife back." 

She rolled off me, pulling at me to climb on top. As I did so, she said, "Make me yours. Love me Allan. Do it hard, please."

She aligned me and I pushed into her hard. 

"Yes!" she gasped.

I raised her legs over my shoulders, and ignoring the twinges in my knees, as I usually did, I loved her hard. It was more than fucking. It was not 'taking' her, but re-establishing our relationship, which had been fractured for so long. She had brought me into her life and her body, and now it was my turn to fill her with my life force as well. It did not take me long to come inside her, and my own grimaces and grunts and groans filled the room as I gave her my essence. 

As I slipped from her, I let her legs down and lay on her, her arms round my back as if to pull me inside her soul.

"Oh Allan, my darling," she enthused, "I've longed and longed for this. Now we're truly together again, my lover!"

I raised myself on my arms.

"I think I always wanted you," I reflected. "Once I smelled your perfume--"

"The one you bought me," she interrupted. "I used to wear it to remember you, even after Derek..."

"I think from then on I wanted you but I was committed and couldn't--"

"You were faithful to your women," she laughed, then she was thoughtful. "You were always faithful to this woman. I'm sorry--"

"No more," I cut her off. "No more sorry. We're back together. No more sorry."

She smiled beatifically, and as I rolled off her, she wrapped herself round me and laid her head on my shoulder. 

"Good," she said. "So good."

And it was.

------ 

FIFTY-THREE

August 2007

I wanted to stop my tale there, but it wasn't the end of the story, indeed the end has not been reached yet and I hope won't be for many years to come, but there are loose ends to tie.

Ann and I married legally in a short ceremony at a register office in October that year. Geoff and Viv, yes, Viv, were our witnesses and apart from their other halves, the only other people present were our children. We had done the 'real thing' when I finally returned home for good and we had the party. 

The criminals were tried, found guilty and sentenced later in the same month. They went away for a long, long time, though O'Malley got a shorter sentence. Stephanie was found to be insane and was sent to a secure mental hospital indefinitely. She looked angry and aggrieved as she was taken down. There was no satisfaction in watching it, though Ann and I, along with Derek, went to the whole trial. Thankfully I was not needed to give evidence. Since I still had no memory of the original event, there was nothing I could add.

Jenny and Peter married in the December, a big wedding with all the trimmings, and now have a youngster whom we dote on, and one on the way. Trish found a nice doctor and married him in July 2005, and Ann and I took Greta and went to New Zealand for the wedding. Peter and Jenny moved in to look after the boys.

Derek, poor man, fell under the spell of Lucy, who took him in hand and elsewhere on his anatomy, and the two now live together. Derek has apparently learned new skills in the bedroom, the kitchen and all over the house, and looks a happier man for it. Lucy looks smug, and seems to be sporting a little bump, though there's been no announcement yet.

Sadly, Vivienne suffered a heart attack early this year which damaged her heart badly and after a short illness she died. David is bearing everything stoically. He enjoys his grandchild and his adopted nieces and nephews in our family.

Greta is now at university and is dating a very pleasant lad who has just started working for our firm. I think I mentioned he has the gift of the gab. We're putting it to good use. As a company we're doing well. 

The lads are doing nicely, Jan is very popular with the girls and thus enjoying life. Stefan is at that 'difficult age', but is still usually of a sunny disposition. 

Ann and I? Well, it wasn't easy settling down with each other. Ann keeps forgetting my memory is defective and gets short tempered, and I am still absent minded. We have managed to accept that what happened was beyond our control for both of us. No more resentment on my part. Sex has not been a problem, and I have often felt that my body remembers our sex life where my conscious mind does not. When Ann is wrapped around me with me deep inside her, it feels like home. We have won.

So I'm still not quite right. Never will be. I don't mean right or wrong, I mean healthy. But at least I remember now, apart from the actual day it happened. That day is still blank. Who cares? Who would want to remember? Not me. I remember most things and people from before the injury, and my short-term memory is as good as it's going to get, I think. Occasionally it lapses and I panic, but I carry about my electronic pad, and it tells me the most important things. Keeps me on track. Have I said that before? I'm joking, of course I have!




The Way Back from the Concert



This is my first attempt at a story. I tried to make it from the point of view of everyone involved. This story is based off of true events. All characters are at least 21 years of age. Thank You!

Wicked Inside was gracious enough to review this story and give me some real good feedback. 

***** 

My wife and I were headed to a music festival in Bozeman, Montana in August and my buddy, Paul, from college tagged along for the weekend road-trip with us. Andrea, my wife of two years, is 5' 9'', 155 pounds with brunette hair and hazel eyes; she has a beautiful 32d bust. For the entire ten hour drive, from Seattle to Bozeman, the sky was full of smoke from wildfires in northern Washington, Idaho and Montana but the smoke didn't dampen the fun at the festival. 

The morning after the festival the three of us started our drive back home; Andrea drove the first leg back while Paul and I nursed our hangovers. We stopped in Coeur d' Alene, Idaho in the early afternoon for a quick lunch at a brewery. Since I wasn't feeling very good because of everything I drank the night before, I volunteered to drive the next leg home; this allowed Andrea and Paul to have a drink during lunch. By the time lunch was finished they had had three beers each and were feeling a bit buzzed. It was after this lunch when my wife did something I never thought she would. 

I can't feel my face when I'm with you, But I love it, But I love it 

"Alright let's play a game for the drive. We'll read the Trivial Pursuit cards and if you answer wrong you take a sip of your beer. Sorry babe, you're driving so you'll have to choose who you want to take a drink for you." 

John just replied with, "Just make sure you hide the beers so no other cars see that you are drinking while we are going down the freeway." 

"Yeah I'll play. Don't worry bro, we'll be careful," reassured Paul. 

So we started playing the game, skipping the questions that were difficult but asking the ones we thought each other could answer. By the time we were passing though Spokane both Paul and I had finished our first beers and working on our seconds. We were getting progressively worse at answering questions and giggling more as we played. It was starting to get really warm in the car. 

"It's so hot in here, why doesn't your AC work? I wish this smoke would clear up so we can open the windows." 

John smirked at me as he drove and replied, "I don't hear Paul complaining in the backseat." 

"Yeah, but he has basketball shorts on and I have jeans." 

Paul just sat back and took a sip of his beer as he listened to the conversation going on in the front seat. 

"Well take your jeans off then sweetie, no one cares." John said half joking. 

"Maybe I will." So I started pulling my skinny jeans off and felt instantly cooler as the air touched my legs. Thank goodness I shaved my legs before we left for the festival. I think this is the most Paul has paid attention from the back to what was going on in the front seat since lunch. 

Paul finally asked something. 

I can't feel my face when I'm with you, But I love it, But I love it 

"Yeah I'll play. Don't worry bro we'll be careful." Hell yeah I want to keep drinking, get rid of this hangover I have. Damn it is warm in this car. 

Some of these questions are stupid, who really knows or cares that the African Elephant has the biggest ears. I guess it allows me to drink. Wow Andrea is getting kind of drunk and we still have a few more hours of driving. Holy shit she is taking off her pants, god I love her long legs. I just have to keep reminding myself not to stare. 

"Uh, well shall we keep playing?" 

I can't feel my face when I'm with you, But I love it, But I love it 

This game would be more fun if I didn't have to drive. Oh well, four more hours of driving. 

"It's so hot in here, why doesn't your AC work? I wish this smoke would clear up so we can open the windows." Andrea started to complain. 

"I don't here Paul complaining in the backseat." 

"Yeah, but he has basketball shorts on and I have jeans." 

When I first met Andrea, five years ago, she was a bit more conservative when it came to her body and sexuality. Over the years I have slowly tried to open her up and expand her mental attitude towards sex and her body. So I went for it: "Well take your jeans off then sweetie, no one cares." 

"Maybe I will." I noticed Andrea had a smirk on her face as she said it and sure as hell she started taking off her jeans. I glanced back into my mirror and Paul was staring at Andrea's legs. She was wearing some teal colored Victoria Secret cheeky underwear that had some lace around the edges. They looked real good on her with the plaid long sleeve on top. Paul read the next question. The answer was something about Greece. 

After ten or so more minutes driving Andrea was asking Paul a question and I noticed that her right hand had moved slowly to the front of her panties so that she could slowly massage herself. I am not sure if she even realized what she was doing.  

Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P-diddy 

Being free from those jeans felt wonderful, and with this buzz I have I am feeling a bit horny. I wish John could just pull over and fuck me in the next rest stop. Maybe if I start rubbing my clit he will get the hint. I'm tiered (tired of) playing this game, I'm ready for another game. 

Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P-diddy 

Holy shit is Andrea touching herself. Fuck I'm getting hard, I have to keep this game going, distract myself. "Um, ah, what nationality was Chopin?" 

"Who?" asked John. 

"Chopin, I think he was a composer or something." 

"Well okay, German? Swiss?" John was just guessing. 

"No he was Polish, I guess." 

"Well hun I guess I'll take your drink for you but I'm out of beer. Move over Paul, I am coming back there to grab a new beer." Said Andrea. 

Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P-diddy 

Who the hell is Chopin? Does Paul have a chub? I thought we were skipping the hard questions, I have no ideas. "Who? 

Well okay, German? Swiss?" 

"Well hun I guess I'll take your drink for you but I'm out of beer. Move over Paul, I am coming back there to grab a new beer." My wife said as she unlocked her seatbelt and started to climb back, sliding over Paul and resting her bare legs across his knees so her feet were touching my lap. Her teal panties barely covered the curve over her smooth ass, and I could see a small damp spot on her crotch where she was playing with herself. Damn I wanted to be in her at that moment. 

And I'm not proud of my address, In a torn-up town, no postcode envy 

I turned around and almost asked Paul if he was seriously asking a question about Chopin, but then I saw the little bump that was poking through his basketball shorts. Paul must have seen what I was doing in the front seat. He is one of my husband's cuter friends. I need another beer. "Well hun I guess I'll take your drink of beer for you but I'm out of beer. Move over Paul I am coming back there to grab a new beer." 

That is definitely his dick poking out, I wonder how long he's been watching me. "You mind if I sit back here and drink a beer with you?" I put Paul's hand on my upper thigh, he had to have felt the warmth of my pussy and see the damp patch on my panties. I wonder what Paul was thinking. 

I opened my beer and drank from it in my right hand as my left hand fell on-top of Paul's dick and started to play with the tip through his shorts. "Hey love, how are you doing up there?" 

"Oh I'm good, are you (two) to comfortable?" John replied looking back in the mirror, "Paul you doing okay?" 

"What? Uh... yeah" Paul stumbled over his words. 

And I'm not proud of my address, In a torn-up town, no postcode envy 

Holy shit what is happening? Andrea's skin is so soft. Does she know her hand is on my dick? She must know. Shit! John just said something. 

"What? Uh... yeah" does he know what is happening? Does he care? I'm going to go for it. 

And I'm not proud of my address, In a torn-up town, no postcode envy 

"Oh I'm good, are you two comfortable? Paul you doing okay?" I could hear in his reply that he was in shock, he didn't know what was happening. I didn't even really know what was happening. 

My wife is giving my buddy a hand job over his shorts and I see his hand moving and starting to rub her crotch over her underwear. Andrea let out a little moan as the smell of her pussy started to fill up the inside of the car. Suddenly she sat up and said, "Lay down on your back Paul," as she slid her panties down her silky smooth legs. I could see her shaved pussy lips glistening just inches from Paul. 

You make me feel, Like I'm Livin' a, Teenage dream 

Paul started rubbing my panties and it felt like exactly what I needed. I wish that I could take my husband into me at this moment but I am in the back seat with his friend. I am going to do what I need to do then. "Lay down on your back Paul." Fuck I hate this song. 

I slid off my teal underwear that were drenched by now and put them on John's lap as he drove. Paul laid his head down against the door and I but (put) my bare pussy onto his face. He got the hint and started to lick it aggressively. It felt wonderful. It was what I needed, someone sucking up my wetness. 

I rocked forward and back and Paul's tongue slid down my ass and I gave out a loud moan. Holding myself up with a hand on the roof of the car I felt one of Paul's hands grab my ass as his other put a finger into my wet pussy. I rocked forward and back and he pushed his fingers deeper as his tongue flicked back and forth over my clit. 

My orgasm was building as we passed a semi-truck and the driver looked down at us, I lowered my top flashing him my tits, the trucker honked his horn in delight. I rode Paul's face until finally the orgasm took over and flooded I his face with my juices. 

"Holy shit!" I heard Paul gasp as my pussy pulsated in his mouth. 

You make me feel, Like I'm Livin' a, Teenage dream 

One moment I could feel the dampness of my friend's wife's pussy with my fingers then the next moment I was lying in the backseat of a car at her command. I saw her pull her underwear down and place them on his lap. Is this seriously going on? 

Suddenly I felt Andrea's bald pussy on my face. I could see her lips gleam as her clit protruded from the top of her mound. My tongue slid in and out of her and as she rocked forward and back I started to lick her ass. I was giving my buddy's wife a rim job while he was driving. 

At this moment I had nothing to lose so I grabbed her ass and pushed her pussy on my face as I put two fingers deep inside of her. I heard the sound of a semi honking and I wondered if it was for us. As I was flicking my fingers in her I felt her insides start to constrict and she started pushing more into my face. Suddenly my face was soaked with her juices and smell, and Andrea's body was shuddering as she laid down. 

You make me feel, Like I'm Livin' a, Teenage dream 

My wife getting eaten out by my buddy as I drove the car they were in, this was weird but I am oddly okay with it. She was always so conservative; I guess I have finally broken her out of her shell. It is hard to focus on the road when I know what is happening a foot behind me. 

I can smell my wife getting wet and can hear little moans coming from the both of them. Andrea is definitely enjoying it and Paul better be enjoying this. Did she just flash her tits at that semi-truck? What has gotten into her? 

I can hear her, she's getting close to cumming. As I watch, her body starts to tremble in the rear-view mirror, I become acutely aware of the throbbing in my pants, and how hard I am becoming watching my wife starting to cum on my friends friend's face. I hear what I know is her orgasm and see her in the mirror lay back breathing as she is short of breath. Andrea has finished her ride and I have the desire to see her do it all over again. 

She wants to dance like Uma Thurman 

Damn that was good. He probably wants me to get him off, well I'm not sucking his dick. I'll just slide his shorts off and get him off. "You good to keep driving John?" I probably should check in with my husband after that. 

"Yeah I'm good as long as you two are good and having fun." John replied. He must've liked watching. I slid Paul's shorts off and put them in the front passenger seat; he was now leaning up with his back against the door in the back seat. When I saw his dick for the first time my only thought was is it really that small? 

I think Paul saw my face and he tried to cover himself up real quick but I grasped his dick and started to run my hand up and down it. He started to moan immediately. 

"Oh shit. No no no." Paul gasped as he started to squirt cum into the air. Did it really happen that quickly? 

Did he really come that quick? I thought, well, makes my job easier. Oh man, he got some cum on my shirt. 

She wants to dance like Uma Thurman 

Wow that was awesome. I heard John ask something but all I could get out was an "uh huh," and I am not even sure if it was audible. Oh shit Andrea is taking my shorts off, what is she going to do? Did she just smile at my dick. I is that good or bad? 

Her hand around my dick feels so good. Oh shit not now not this quickly. Fuck. "Oh shit. No no no." Well no one was impressed with that. 

She wants to dance like Uma Thurman 

"Oh shit. No no no." I heard Paul say, as I looked back I saw Andrea looking forward with one of her not satisfied faces. That son of a bitch must've cummed to my wife's touch after not even a minute. 

Oh, we're getting low on gas. "Hey you two, I'm going to pull over at the next exit and fill up and go to the bathroom , just so you know." Andrea moved back into the front passenger seat and put on Paul's basketball shorts that she had placed there earlier. As I pulled in to the gas station that was a trucker stop and started to fill the car up, Andrea hopped out of the car and went into the convenience store. I could hear her giggling. 

And I will wait, I will wait for you 

"Hey you two, I'm going to pull over at the next exit and fill up and go to the bathroom, just so you know." John said at the perfect time because I was starting to feel awkward about Paul's quick finish, so I slid into the front seat leaving Paul in back alone. I forgot I put his shorts up there so I slid them on without any panties and waited until we stopped. 

Once John pulled over at the trucker stop I tossed my now dry underwear back at Paul and said "Enjoy." I then got out and went into the store to go to the restroom to clean my shirt and get some snacks. 

And I will wait, I will wait for you 

"Hey you two, I'm going to pull over at the next exit and fill up and go to the bathroom, just so you know." Thank goodness John called out, I wasn't sure what to do after spraying his wife with cum almost the moment she touched my dick. Andrea slid up front leaving me in back with just my shirt on. 

Both John and Andrea got out of the car, but she stopped for a moment and tossed the teal panties she was wearing earlier at me and told me to "enjoy." I had to try and wipe the grin off of my face. As I watched her walk away in my shorts I could only think that I really needed to go pee but I had no pants.