When I took the boys back that Sunday it was Susan that opened the door. She looked pale and worried. She let the boys in and just nodded to me, without saying a word, ignoring my cheerful, "Hi, Susan."
I was just getting into my car as Ralph came out. I stood and waited for him. He also looked worried, but he smiled at me, "Got time for a quick sherry?"
I smiled, got out of my car door again and followed him, "Sure."
Once we were ensconced in his shed, and we each had a plastic cup half full of the rich dark liquid, he looked at me, "It's serious. He's talking solicitors."
I considered that news for a while, so many emotions and thoughts washed over me, but I found the voice to say, "I'm sorry. Any idea what she is going to do?"
"None at all at this stage. At the moment she's at their house, and appears to be staying there. But, of course, they are welcome here."
"Well, that's good to know. But tell her, if she has any financial problems then I'll see what I can do. The boys need a good home with their mother. And I don't want them stuck in a place where there is no love, just because she can't afford to make the right decision."
Ralph put his hand out and squeezed my arm as a reply.
We sipped our sherries in silence. It was me that eventually broke it, "Susan must be worried. If having Molly married to Peter was her security, then not having her married to Peter will be her insecurity."
"I wouldn't worry about Susan. How about you? If this is the end for Peter, then you must feel something... and don't try and be magnanimous. There must be a bit of you that is crowing."
I smiled, "Well, Yes there is. But poor Molly. She gave me up for the man of her dreams, and now that's falling apart. She must be devastated."
Again we sat in silence, then Ralph looked up at me, he was obviously searching my face, choosing his words carefully, "Susan may have preferred Peter, but that doesn't mean I did. As far as I was concerned, you were always a far better son-in-law than him, on the only criterion that matters. Would you think about trying again?"
"Good Heavens, No!" I paused to look at him, how do I politely tell Molly's *** why not? "I can think of a hundred reasons why not. She dumped me for Peter, OK? I accept that in her eyes I came second to him. And, if they are splitting then I'm sorry for her, but that doesn't alter the fact that I come second to him."
"Don't you have regrets?"
"Yes, of course I have regrets. Everybody has things in their lives that they regret. Don't you?"
He nodded, "Yes. I always believed that her marrying Peter was a mistake, but I didn't do anything to stop it. I regret that. I regret that I didn't interfere enough when you two were splitting up to make you try again. Yes, I've got regrets." He looked very sad, suddenly he looked older than his sixty something years.
"Well, you have no reason to regret not interfering. No one should ever interfere between a man and wife. Not even a father-in-law. And, I've told you before, Molly never gave me any reason, any hope, that there was any point in trying to rebuild what she was throwing away. I accept that, so should you, Ralph." It was my turn to give his arm a comforting squeeze. "And anyway, it was all a long time ago, and we were different people then."
"Helene?"
"Partly. Helene is a very important part of my life. I owe her so much."
"But she's not part of your future?" It was a question, not a statement.
"No." I looked up at him, "I'll say this for your ********, Ralph, she taught me what love really is. Yes, it was all the passion of two young people, and we were young then. But it was the total trust, commitment and security of life. In those days my life had only one future - with Molly. There were no alternatives." I smiled at him and shrugged, "Well there wasn't until she forced one onto me. But with Helene, there were always alternatives, and one of them was to walk away, and I've taken it. Helene is a wonderful girl, but she was no Molly."
"So, it wasn't Helene at the Ball last night?"
"No. That was Myra. Delectable Myra as my secretary calls her."
"Is she serious?"
Suddenly I remembered something, "No. But I think she told Molly she was. Apparently she met Molly in the Ladies, and Molly asked. I don't think Myra knew who she was talking to, but she gave a smart reply." Then a thought struck me, "Oh, No, Ralph. You can't claim that my being at that Ball with Myra is Peter and Molly's problem. And if anything, Myra telling Molly that we're an item even if we aren't, should have put both Molly's and Peter's minds to rest."
Ralph just watched me, "Talk to Molly, please Chris."
"I made one mistake in all of this. That afternoon when I went back to their house. I'm not interfering any more. If Molly wants to talk to me, well she knows where she can find me. But as she couldn't tell me anything over that whole afternoon, I doubt whether she's going to say anything of importance now."
Ralph smiled, "Myra was the girl that went to Marston Abbey that afternoon and upset Peter enough to send him home early, wasn't she?"
Now that was true, and that thought led to all sorts of possibilities. "I can see that Peter might think that indicates I was plotting against him, but I'm not that devious." I paused, looked at him and smiled "Well I am ........ but I didn't think of it."
"I'm going to ask you again: Please talk to Molly. I know she has things she needs to talk about."
"No, Ralph. I understand that she might need a shoulder to cry on, but you're asking too much of me to volunteer that it's my shoulder. I'm not the person for her to talk to about her problems with Peter." I looked at him, quite sternly, "It'd be too painful. There'd be too many memories. I'm not doing it. OK?"
Ralph looked defeated, "OK." He paused, "It's Easter next week. Got any plans?"
"No, not really, why?"
"Well, I don't know how it will turn out, but it might be nice if the boys saw you with Molly. Their future is being shaken around a bit at the moment. They can stay here as many nights as they like if things aren't good at Peter and Molly's, but it might be nice if their *** was around a bit. How about coming round on the Monday."
"Well, you'd better wait and see what's happening. But I'd like to take them out all day on one of the days, if that would help. So just let me know which day would suit you ..... and Molly of course."
"You could at least talk to Molly about those sort of arrangements. Myself and Susan shouldn't be some sort of middlemen about your children."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll leave it a couple of days, until things have calmed down a bit...but, Yes, I'll talk to her. It's Jamie's birthday soon and I need to talk to her about his present anyway. I really don't want to add to yours or Susan's load with the boys, you do so much for them as it is."
We left it there, and I drove home - with a lot to think about.
That evening, at home alone, I hit the whisky bottle. Not too much, but they did slip down too easily. This is rare for me. There was a period after the split from Molly when I did drink alone at home, but it wasn't good and I stopped myself. It seemed ironic that the collapse of Molly's second marriage had me doing it again.
I'm not sure what I really felt about it all. There were waves of sheer 'I told you so' joy. But there were waves of pity for her and what she's going through. There were doubts about the future for the boys, it was so important to me that they shouldn't be damaged by this. I realised there was no pity for Peter. I guess he was going through Hell at the moment, and it was wrong of me to not at least feel some sympathy for the guy, but I didn't.
And then there were the questions: How could I build an easy friendship with Molly if she was distraught as I assumed she would be? I still hadn't answered the question of why she wanted to take me to her bed that Friday afternoon. My cuckold-wimp theory was shot to ribbons, but what was the alternative? The only one that I can think of is that she was overcome with emotion at the remembrance of what we once had, just as I was. I do remember that she had said it was a one off, so I guess she thought 'just one more time - for old time's sake.'
And then there was whatever Ralph meant by saying that I was the better son-in-law by the only criterion that counts? That I'll have a sherry with him in his shed? That I gave him grandsons? My guess is that Peter fires blanks, and maybe that is part of the cause of the break-up. Who knows?
And with one more whisky - who cares?
Carole was already at her desk when I arrived on Monday morning. "Morning!" I said cheerfully as I passed.
She smiled, "And how was the delectable Myra?"
"Delectable!" I said as I disappeared into my office, but then I put my head around the door and added, "And I delected!"
Two minutes later Carole came in with my coffee, "And did you delect for just the evening, or was it a whole weekend of delecting?"
"A gentleman would never tell."
"But will you be delecting again? And will it be with Myra?"
"Well, I certainly hope that I will be delecting again, I'm too young to give up delecting just yet." I paused and considered her second question, "But will it be with Myra? I hope so, but it's not vital that it is."
After that Monday passed quickly I did go looking for Myra at one time, but I was told that she had left to go to London, and wasn't due back until Tuesday. On Monday afternoon I was invited to appear on a panel of businessmen for a local television programme, and I accepted. But, other than for that, I think I was rather grateful that Monday just passed without any personal issues coming up, just good solid work.
Tuesday continued where Monday left off, I did leave a message for Myra to come and see me before she went home, but I was stuck in an interminable meeting with Production all afternoon. I also learnt that my television appearance was neatly timed by the producers to be on the same day as Jamesons finally closed. Bugger. That meant hours in PR getting my words and the corporate line absolutely word perfect.
Stephen Hobbs phoned me from Exeter. Apparently they were having a staff party on the 28th April, the Saturday after Easter. It was going to be a barn dance, all very informal, and I was invited. I accepted, and in fact I thought it might be fun. It reminded me what a good bunch the Exeter staff seemed to be, but more important, that I wasn't sure how they fitted in my vision of the future. After some more chat with Stephen, I agreed that I would actually spend the Friday in Exeter, and do some blue sky thinking about strategy with him, and maybe a couple of his most senior and trusted guys. Later I asked Carole to book me a nice hotel in Exeter for the Friday and Saturday nights.
I was working at my desk after Carole had left for the day, when Myra came through my office door. "You needn't have called for me, I was going to come and see you anyway."
I looked up and smiled, "For business or pleasure?"
She smiled and parried, "It's always a pleasure to see you about business." I waited until she added, "For private reasons, maybe not pleasure."
"That sounds ominous. How about I do you a deal? I wanted to see you for both business and pleasure. How about I do the business bit now, and I buy you a simple dinner for us both to do the private bit? Out of the office and all that."
She looked doubtful.
I added, "What's the worse that can happen? My guess is that you are going to tell me that you want to cool it. Well you might as well get a meal out of me before you do, and I promise that I won't have a tantrum in a restaurant and embarrass you. What do you say?" I smiled, I hope winningly.
She smiled, but neutrally asked, "What was the business?"
"When are you going to Exeter next?"
"Nothing scheduled. Why?"
"I'm beginning to wonder what we do with them. It seems to me that they have a great capacity to be expanded, and to do other work for other companies. But that is not within our remit of building a company in the health market. If they are to just continue as they are, then why don't we relocate them to here, in Bristol? They are a brighter, more intelligent bunch than a lot of the current incumbents. To inject some of the Exeter guys into Production would be a good thing, wake them up a bit...."
"Ooooh! I can see Dennis Murrell having something to say about that!"
I smiled, "So can I. But none of us, including Dear Dennis, are indispensable." I continued to smile.
She smiled, "And Stephen Hobbs as Production Director? I could live with that."
"Not necessarily, but Yes, I could live with it as well. Or we could just sell them off, make a profit, and contract with them on the open market."
"Mmmmmm...." She said thoughtfully.
"So? When can you go and spend a day in Exeter, with that little lot in the back of your mind?"
Myra picked up her diary, "The earliest would be Friday week."
"Great! I'm going to be down there that day, so maybe we can touch base sometime at the end of the day. I can give you a lift if you like."
"OK." And she wrote a note in her diary.
I didn't add, 'and you can stay for the weekend and go to a Barn Dance.' I thought I'd see if we were going to have dinner tonight before I fish for a dirty weekend in a nice country hotel outside of Exeter.
She smiled, "So what about this dinner then?"
I suggested we drive in convoy down to the Old Vic area and park down there. There are plenty of restaurants in that area. As we walked up from the car park she linked her arm through mine, and we strolled up the road.
"What do you fancy? How about Italian?" I pointed at the lime green one, "I ate there once, it was quite good."
"Suits me." She said. And that's what we did.
We just chatted until the food turned up, but once we started eating, she obviously decided to turn to her problem, "Chris, I want to thank you so much for Saturday. It was pretty important for me."
I looked up, and took a sip of wine and waited,
"Saturday night and Sunday morning, I mean. It was the first time since Jonathon and an important milestone for me. But, I don't want to lose your friendship, your confidence in me at work, because of a passing romantic entanglement."
"You know I've had doubts. I've never dated any one from work before. I've never been attracted enough to a colleague, so its never been a problem before. Strictly speaking, you aren't a Franks employee, your Head Office staff, just seconded."
"It's our working relationship that's important. And I don't really think I'm a fit and proper person for you to get involved with just yet anyway."
I smiled, "I'd much rather get involved with an improper person." But then I put my hand across the table and gently squeezed hers, "Look, Myra, I've been there. It's taken me over four years from splitting with Molly to get where I am now. You were with Jonathon for what? Six? Seven years? Take your time. Have the relationships you need. And don't let anyone push you around."
She looked into my eyes, and just said "Thank you."
We ate in silence for a while, but when we'd finished and they'd cleared the plates, I asked, "What are you doing for Easter?"
"Nothing now. I thought I'd go home and visit my parents. But last week they suddenly announced that they were going to drive down to stay with my Uncle Bill and Aunt Anne at their cottage down in the south of France. So, I'm on my own."
"Well, so am I. Why don't we do something together one evening. Not a date, no sex, no intention or hope of sex, just friends going to see a film or the theatre or something. It's better than you sitting by yourself in an empty flat in Bath while I sit in an empty flat in Bristol. How about it?"
"Don't tempt me. I used to love theatre, but Jonathon hated it, so we never went."
"Well, why don't I see if I can rustle up some theatre tickets for Bath or Bristol. We must be able to get into something reasonable. How about Saturday night?"
"Just as friends?"
"Just as friends."
"OK. You're on. But only if I pay. I don't want you paying all the time."
"OK. I can live with that." I smiled. "Do you want some pud, or just a coffee?"
"Just coffee, please."
I called a waiter over and ordered two coffees. When he'd gone, I looked at Myra, she smiled at me, "Tell me about Jonathon. I have the feeling that he had some heavy hang-ups, and you are only just beginning to work through them."
She glanced around the restaurant and she looked uncomfortable.
I immediately backed off, "Sorry. Don't answer that, or not here anyway."
She smiled weakly. I was just wondering what to talk about when the waiter brought our coffees and saved me.
It was Myra that broke what was becoming an awkward silence, "I'm sorry, Chris." She stopped stirring her coffee and looked up into my eyes, "I think I do need to talk about it, if only to confirm my analysis, but not here."
"Well, how about we drink this coffee, and then go back to my place and have another cup there. Nothing else, just two friends talking in private about private things."
She smiled, "I guess I should, while I'm in the mood, and its all going around in my head."
And that's what we did. In fact she beat me back to my place and was standing in the lobby when I got there. I made us two big mugs of good coffee, and we sat down.
"OK?" I prompted.
She sat up, looking tense and holding her coffee mug in two hands, "Well, I guess Jonathon was a bit of a control freak. But I think that by me constantly conceding to him just made it worse. He seemed to want to push more and more to find my limit. I think the relationship was on a self-destruct course for years, slowly and incrementally."
"How? What makes you think that?"
"Well, take the hair thing. I don't really think he really had a hair fetish. I think it was all about control. He never showed any particular interest in my head hair for instance. It was just one day, in early summer, when I was going to trim my bikini line. And I told him, and suggested that maybe I should get a Brazilian, would he like it? It was just teasing talk, really. But he suddenly said No, he didn't like that. He wanted me to leave it natural. And it sort of grew from there. A year later, and it took that long, he suddenly said he didn't want me to shave under my arms. And much later after that, he used to enjoy embarrassing me, making me lift my arm when out with his friends, on silly excuses."
"That sounds like it was a power trip for him."
She shrugged, "Do you know what really got to me, really pissed me off? Once, I heard one of his friends say something about my hairy pits, and he said that it was something I insisted doing, that he had to tolerate it for the sake of the relationship. That really pissed me."
I smiled, "Matthew, 10:33"
Myra just looked puzzled and waited. So I added, "Whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven." I smiled, "Haven't you ever had much to do with The Old Man?"
She laughed, and relaxed back into the sofa.
I thought now was my moment, "And the promise?"
She looked at me, slightly accusingly I thought, then her face softened and smiled, "I thought I covered myself quite well." She paused, "When I met Jonathon, he was a virgin, and I wasn't. Oh I wasn't some harlot, but I'd had a couple of boyfriends, and I lost it, or gave it away, when I was eighteen."
I smiled, "I was seventeen and *****. I can remember her name, it was Annette Pyrford, but I can't remember what she looked like, except that she had long dark hair. And I don't remember much more."
"He was Taylor Simmonds, and I quite liked him, but I shouldn't have. He didn't last long afterwards, I guess there was no challenge for him once I'd conceded." She paused, "Anyway, Jonathon got real uptight about it. He hated the thought of my previous boyfriends. So, I gave him my bum. I'd wanted to try it for some time, and actually, done right, I rather enjoy it, but I promised him that he was and would be the only man to have me there."
"I don't think that promise is still valid. One day you will meet a man who will sweep you off your feet, and you must be able to give him all of yourself."
"You're right." She looked rather thoughtful.
I took the break to stand up and go over to the sideboard, and with my back to her I said, "I'm going to have a brandy, I hope you don't mind. I won't encourage you to drink, as you're driving, but you are welcome to one if you want."
"I think I'm beginning to regret another promise I made myself."
"What was that?"
"That I wouldn't ever go to bed with you again."
I turned round to look at her, "Are you sure?"
"Very." She looked at me, "Oh, I don't think we are going anywhere. But you are so good for me, you understand. Just one more night would be nice, and you can help me break that other silly promise."
Suddenly I was silent. I was being asked to take this beautiful woman to bed, to have anal sex with her, and all of it was about Jonathon and none of it was about me.
"No." I said, firmly, but then I softened, "I'll very happily invite you to my bed tonight and we can do anything you want that exorcises Jonathon, I like it all, promise. But tomorrow morning we will make love one more time, and it will be just us, you and me. And that will be our one last time."
She stood and came over to me. She put her arms either side of my head, and kissed me, "Sorry. I was being selfish. You're right, and you are too nice a guy. I think that by tomorrow morning Jonathon will be in my past, and I promise you it will only be you and me." And we kissed again, then she said, "So I can have that brandy."
I poured us two brandies, and we sat together on the sofa. We both seemed to relax, and suddenly I felt we were real friends.
Myra leant back into me as we sat on the sofa, sipping our brandies. Once in a while one of us would say something, and maybe get a response, but on the whole it was a comfortable silence. Then she turned on her side, with her head over my lap, and her hands started to massage my cock through my trousers.
I'd been half hard whilst we were just sitting, but it didn't take her long to have me fully erect. Then she calmly unzipped me and started kissing the head of my cock. It wasn't long before she opened her mouth and was sucking me gently, whilst her hand continued to wank me. I lasted about five minutes.
Myra looked up and smiled. She had a little bit of my cum trickling down from the corner of her mouth, which she sensuously licked with her tongue.
We both said "Thank you" at the same time, and then both laughed.
"I thought you wanted me to do naughty things to you in bed." I observed,
"I do. I'm sure you can recover. Tell you what, to let you have time to recover, can I borrow your shower?"
"Of course. You'll find clean towels in the cupboard just outside the bathroom."
"And can I borrow your razor. I haven't shaved since Saturday, and I want to be smooth for you."
"Can I watch? Or even help?" I asked with a smile.
She looked puzzled for a moment, "Oh! I was expecting to present myself all clean and smooth, but I guess...if you want...."
"No. Don't worry. The thought of you presenting yourself all clean and smooth will help my recovery. Go on...go and have your shower." And I kissed her.
I was waiting in bed when she came out of the bathroom. I was beginning to feel guilty and self-conscious. She was coming to me freshly shaved and showered and I hadn't even brushed my teeth. I'd already been out of bed once to flit myself down with some cologne that was sitting on a chest of drawers, all my other stuff was in the bathroom with her.
And then she stepped out of the bathroom, simply naked, shaven and clean. No make-up and her hair just towelled dry and combed out. She posed leaning against the door post. I couldn't help but compare her to the two major women of my life, Molly and Helene. She was younger and firmer than Molly, but somehow less sensuous. And she was more rounded, with bigger breasts than Helene. But she was up there, she rated with them.
I recovered myself from my thoughts to say "You look good enough to eat."
She smiled, and said, "I hoped you'd say that. Because I was looking forward to being eaten." And I laughed.
From that moment on the sex was fun. We laughed and joked. We fucked and sucked.
At one point, when I was taking her anally, as promised, and I was working hard at making sure she enjoyed it, I heard her say, quite quietly and into the pillow, "Sod you Jonathon! I'll give my arse to anyone I like." I obviously wasn't meant to hear it and I didn't respond. But mind you, at that moment, I had other things on my mind and certainly not bloody Jonathon.
I was gently pumping away at her arse, when suddenly she started to really meet my strokes, "Oh! ...... Oh my God! ..... I'm going to cum..... Oh! Chris.... Don't stop ..... Aaaaagh!" I wasn't long behind her, if you'll excuse the pun!
Afterwards, as we lay on the bed, both staring at the ceiling, she said, "I've never cum before from being fucked back there...... I like it, the feeling of giving myself....of feeling so full....but I've never cum before.... Jonathon never managed that..... Oh! Thank you, Chris." And she turned and kissed me.
"That's what freedom does for you." I said.
When I could rouse myself, I did go and clean my teeth, and wash my cock. And I returned to bed and we snuggled and fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up to Myra raining little gentle kisses all over my face. As I opened my eyes, she saw I was awake and glued her lips to mine in a passionate kiss, with her tongue probing my mouth before I was awake enough to fight back. By sheer force, not resisted much by Myra, I lifted my torso up and rolled us over so that I was looking down on her. Then I kissed my way down to her breasts.
Her breasts were so full and so firm, for a moment I wondered if she had implants, and I purposely played with them in my hands, but they were real. Without doubt, they were her best feature, but her whole body was top rated.
I climbed between her legs, and my cock nudged its way into her pussy. We made love, slowly and gently, watching each other intently. She was smiling, and I leaned down to kiss her, and this time it was my tongue probing her mouth. I could feel us both rising in urgency, her hips were meeting my thrusts, faster and faster.
"Cum for me, Chris....Cum for me...." She started a chant.
And I did as I was told. And I felt her sigh and her pussy tighten as she came with me.
I kissed her on the nose, "And that was for us. Just boring old missionary position sex, but it was great. And thank you, it was just us two doing it." And I kissed her nose again.
We lay there for a while, her in the crook of my arm, until I decided to bring us back to reality, "Do you need to get back to your place to change before you go into work?"
"Yes and No. I've got a twelve o'clock in London, and I was intending to just work at home this morning anyway, and go up at about ten o'clock on the train from Bath. So I'm relaxed about time."
I kissed the top of her head, "Well thanks to you, I feel in a gentle and amiable mood. So I'm not in a hurry either. I'll give Carole a call and send my apologies if I turn up a bit late for my first. I think it was an HR meeting, with having to decide the across the board basic salary rises for the year." I paused for a second, "Probably as well if I'm late for that. I'm in too good a mood to talk about pay rises, I'd give too much away."
We lay there in silence for a few more minutes, then I began to move, "Why don't you take the bathroom, whilst I go and make a cup of coffee."
I took her back to my breakfast café, it was a lovely spring morning and warm enough for us to sit at one of their outside tables.
Myra was sparkling this morning, she obviously felt good. "Thank you, Chris. Because of you I seem to have come a long way in the last week. So much further than the previous two months. I really feel that maybe, just maybe, life will be OK."
I smiled, "Well, you never know, on the train this morning a tall dark handsome man may come and sit opposite you, and he will be your future."
"Ooooh, I hope so. And if he did, I think I might even notice him. Whereas last week I would just have sat and compared him to Jonathon. But, what's your future? What does Chris Bennett want? To sit on the train opposite a blue eyed honey blonde who will give you four children in a little thatched cottage with roses around the door?"
I laughed, "Hardly. I reckon my future is a pleasant string of ladies. None of whom will I care about too much, but equally I will care about them enough. And one day, when I'm past being eyed as a potential father and mortgage payer, I'll meet a lady who wants to commit to a partnership of business and travel and fine living."
She looked at me, "That sounds rather sad. You'd make a great father. It seems terribly shallow to me."
I smiled, "I'm already trying to be an OK father." I paused and sighed, "I had depth once, and I lost it. So for a while, shallow's good."
I was aware of Myra just watching me as I spread apricot jam on a chunk of brioche. I waited.
"Do you still love her?"
Now that was a question! "Molly? I loved her once, and I guess she owns a bit of me, but times change. You can't live in the past."
Myra was quiet for a minute, and I was beginning to believe that I had successfully shut her up, but no.
"I don't think that actually answered my question."
"Because it is a question that is totally ....." I paused to choose my word, "Irrelevant? Hypothetical?.... I don't know. But what you are asking is: Am I in love with another man's wife? And the answer has to be No. And anyway, I'm not quite sure what Love is anymore. I thought Molly and I had it, but we obviously didn't. So, No, she is not part of my life in that sense. I have no commitment to her. My life has to be other people and other loves." I paused again, "And I think it's time I went to work."
As I drove into work I thought about Myra. Was I a fool to let such a beautiful girl slip from my grasp? Could I do anything to stop it? Well, I don't know about the second question, but I think it was sensible to let it relax into a friendship. I need some friends, I don't have too many, and a love affair at work is guaranteed to be trouble. But, I do need to widen my social life, meet more people, some as potential friends, and others as potential lovers.
I got to work at 09:15, which was a bit late, but not too bad. Carole greeted me with a smile, and told me that the Personnel meeting had only just started in my office, but that they'd postponed the discussion on pay rises for another day, and the accountants had returned to their desks.
I went through my messages and appointments with her at her desk, before I made my belated entrance to the meeting. Carole was watching me and suddenly said, "You seem in a good mood."
"I am." I winked.
"You've been delecting again, I can tell."
"Yes. But from here on in you will be interested to know, we are just good friends."
She looked slightly sad but questioning, so I added, "I mean it. We really are good friends. We both decided that a good working relationship and our careers were worth more than a passing affair. So don't worry."
"Pity. I thought you and the delectable Myra were well matched. You both seem to have upset the same amount of people when the rumour went round that you'd hooked up together."
I raised my eyebrows and waited, "Of course you upset plenty of the girls who had dreams that they could be the second Mrs Bennett. But Myra dashed as many men's fantasies."
"Well leave the girl's hearts dashed, I could do without that. But the men's fantasies can be restored with hope. That's up to Myra."
I went on reading my messages, and handed one back to her, it was an invite to a breakfast meeting of local business people, with an ex-Cabinet Minister as guest of honour. "I'll go to that. I need to go to more of those sort of things, widen my circle and all that."
And then I had an afterthought, "And so that my friend Myra .." and I put heavy emphasis on the 'friend' word, "...and I can have something to do over Easter, could you see if you can get a couple of good theatre tickets for Saturday night, please? Bath or Bristol, it doesn't really matter. A straight play or a musical, just something reasonably intelligent and entertaining."
I opened my office door and joined the meeting.
A couple of hours later, I was sitting at my desk trying to set an Agenda for the next board meeting when my phone rang, it was Carole: "I have Ralph Tremaine on the line, he needs to speak to you."
I sighed, "Put him through."
"Ralph! What can I do for you."
"Chris, thanks for phoning me back. I know I said you had to sort out this weekend with Molly, but I saw her yesterday and I did it for you."
I'm not phoning him back, but I ignored that one, "And?"
"And she's a complete mess. She doesn't know whether she's coming or going."
There was a pregnant pause while Ralph waited for me to volunteer to talk to her. I didn't.
Eventually, he picked up. "I think the best thing I can do is try to put some structure, some discipline on her Easter weekend. So, I've insisted that she and the boys stay here for the weekend. We'll go to Church on both Friday and Sunday, the formality of dressing a bit smarter and a formal service might help. You would be very welcome to join us."
"No thank you. That's not my scene."
Again there was a pause which I ended this time, "I was thinking of giving the boys at least one whole day out sometime. Give them a break from what must be a fairly tense atmosphere. I was thinking of Friday, as soon as possible really."
"Well, you can take them Friday. I doubt whether they need too many Church services. Why not take them out on Sunday afternoon as well, and come to lunch or tea on Monday?"
"You know what day Monday is?"
"Yes, it's Shakespeare's birthday. It will mean so much to her that you are there that day of all days. And what better day to talk to her?"
"God! You don't half ask a lot, Ralph."
"Well, you can give her some hope for the future, what better day to look forward as well as back. 'The miserable have no other medicine but only hope.' Isn't that Measure for Measure?"
"You should choose something from Love's Labour's Lost."
"One of the tragedies would be the most appropriate." Again he paused, "I know its hard, but come for tea on Monday at the least. Please, Chris."
I sighed, I didn't relish the prospect, "OK, then."
"And if she really does want to talk, then listen this time. OK."
"Now Ralph, I think I've always listened. Even when I was hearing things I didn't much like. But, if you could tell her to focus a bit on what a shit Peter is, then I might like listening a bit more."
"He isn't. He was wrong at the outset, but he isn't a shit. Now, we'll see you on Friday, before ten to pick up the boys?"
"Yes."
"And you'll come to tea on Monday."
"Yes. I said so, didn't I?"
"Good. Well I won't take up any more of your time."
I put the phone down and went out to Carole, "That was good of me, phoning Ralph back like that."
She smiled, "Yes it was, wasn't it?"
I looked at her, and shook my head, but I was smiling.
"Oh, Chris..." She'd obviously thought of something, "You're going to the Theatre Royal Bath, for A Streetcar Named Desire, curtain up at eight o'clock."
"Well done and thank you. I'll let the no longer delectable Myra know."
The rest of Wednesday passed fairly uneventfully. I did let Myra know about our theatre date. In the evening I did my television bit and seemed to get away from the flak flying around on Jamesons closure. But as I drove home my thoughts returned to trying to work out what I really felt about the collapse of Molly's marriage. My ideas changed by the mile driven, everything from delight at Peter's suffering through to fear for the future of Jamie and Ben. Later, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, but still came to no particular conclusion.
Business on Thursday went well, but being the last day before the Easter break, everybody seemed to be anxious to leave dead on time if not before. So, by five thirty I was sitting in my comfortable chair in my office, all alone and beginning to draft out ideas on how to focus the right players on new products.
I was deep in thought when I was roused by a knock on my open door, I looked up and there was Piers McBaine.
I smiled, he didn't. "This time I really do think you may have been a fucking bastard."
I waved him to sit down on one of the sofas. "And why?"
"I've been up at a conference in Harrogate for the first three days of this week. I've come back to find a very depressed Peter Davies, mainly working by himself in his room, hardly talking to anybody, and if anybody talks to him...... well he's near to tears and talking of divorce."
"Oh!" I said, still trying to keep my responses neutral.
"And he told me a little more about the other Friday." Piers stared at me, and I stared back, neither of us backing down.
I went and poured two whiskies. I handed him one, Piers watched me without a word, I tried to choose my words carefully, "Maybe I was a fucking bastard; I really don't understand that afternoon. I guess I should have backed away, but I didn't. So maybe you're right."
"What happened? I know how it ended up, I don't know how it started."
"It started with Molly phoning me up and saying she wanted to talk to me about something, and could we meet for a long lunch."
I went on to give him a fairly clinical summary of that afternoon. I finished with, "I know it shouldn't have happened, but my brain wasn't in logical mode, it was just mush. I was a walking talking bundle of emotions. Have you ever been in their dining room, for instance?"
Piers looked surprised, "Yes, of course I have."
"Well, that dining room is an exact replica of mine and Molly's dining room of five years ago. I helped choose that table and those chairs. Even the pictures on the walls are straight from Molly's and my old home..... and the colour of the walls. You probably can't begin to imagine what hit me in nostalgia, in sadness for all that I'd lost. And then she desperately needs me to take her to bed. I didn't stand a chance. It was wrong of me, and I don't know why she did it, but I followed as a lamb to the slaughter."
"So it wasn't all premeditated? Peter thinks you planned it all as an act of revenge. And what was it you said to him as you were leaving?"
I told him of my taking the opportunity to take revenge, "But I didn't plan it that way. I promise you Piers, I thought I was going to lunch with my ex to discuss the boys' education, and whatever she wanted to talk about - and I still don't know what that was." I smiled, "And it wasn't even particularly wonderful as far as sex goes. It was overlaid with huge emotion, but the act itself was pretty basic, quick and meaningless."
Piers sipped his whisky, thoughtfully.
It was me that broke the silence, "I would have thought that this single incident would be something to be got over, not allowed to destroy a good marriage. And surely, from what we know, Peter isn't an innocent angel, he knows these things happen. Once upon a time he seemed to build a life based on making them happen."
Piers sighed and looked at me, as if trying to make up his mind about something, "Why do you think Molly did it?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. At first I wondered if they were playing some silly sex game where she gets caught in bed with her lover, and then they spend the rest of the evening banging away like newly weds..."
"No, I can't see that..." Piers interjected.
"No, nor can I now. I can only assume that Molly was overcome with some similar form of emotion as myself. That she wanted to recapture something we used to have, just one more time. And she did say it was only going to be one time. Or, maybe deep inside her there was a need to balance the books between Peter and myself. That she cheated on me with him, so she needed to cheat on him with me." I shook my head sadly, "I just don't know."
"Peter is saying that Molly is still deeply in love with you. That he can't fight it any longer, and that's why they are at the end of their marriage."
"Well that's rubbish from so many points of view. The guy's paranoid."
"Why? Is it so preposterous?"
"Molly had an affair with Peter when she was married to me. That doesn't sound as if she's deeply in love with me, does it? Then without a word of regret she lets me divorce her, and is engaged to be married to him before even the decree nisi is declared." I paused, before adding sarcastically, "She really pined for me and our marriage."
Piers sat in silence, just thinking.
So I continued, "My guess is that Peter is just paranoid about me. I guess that since I've come back. there must be a lot of talk and action in their house about me. Molly has to get the boys to her parents so that I can pick them up. The boys would talk about what we did when they're with me. And he can't even get away from me at work, he's surrounded by gossip and cruel comments at work. I've invaded his life, whether he likes it or not. And if he complains then Molly probably reminds him that I am the boys' father, and I have a right to see them. In effect, I have a right to be there in his life. It can't be easy for him." I paused, "And then, to top it all, he comes home early and finds me in his bed with his wife." I paused and laughed, "I hate the guy, but I do have some sympathy for him."
"But why does he then say it is because Molly loves you? Peter isn't an emotional fool, he's a clear thinking logical researcher."
"I don't know. Maybe its easier to blame me or Molly or anyone but himself."
"What will you do if he's right and you're wrong?"
I smiled, "God only knows! But as the idea is pretty unlikely. Of all the things in this bizarre situation, that is the one that is least likely to keep me awake at night."
We sat in silence for some time, and then I began to realise that Piers hadn't made any comment on anything. So I prompted him for at least some information, "Is Peter still living at home? I know that Molly is still there."
"Yes and No. You know their gym come guest suite that should have been a garage?" I nodded, "Well I've heard, Peter didn't tell me this but Sharon Booth did, that he has moved in there, with a camping stove and a camp bed."
"So it is serious, then. I had thought that if they were still together at home, then time would help blow things over."
"Oh, it's serious. But I don't think he's actually seen a solicitor yet."
"Well, I've been doing my best to stay out of it, except for that afternoon when I interfered too much. But Molly's father is insisting that I talk to her on Monday. I'm not looking forward to it, I haven't the faintest idea what to say." Suddenly a thought struck me, "This all blew up not after Peter caught us in bed, but after he'd tried reconciling with her, after his week away. So, it's not that Molly and myself ended up in bed that afternoon that is the problem, and he's kidding himself if he's now claiming it is."
"I don't think he is. He's saying there's been a chain of events that convinces him that Molly's in love with you."
"Back to the paranoid theory." I looked Piers straight in the eye, "I promise you Piers, ever since Peter Davies's name was first mentioned by Molly over four years ago now, nearly five, and except for that Friday afternoon, she has never ever said a single word to me that I could interpret as anything but that she doesn't love me, and she does love Peter. And he's paranoid if he thinks otherwise. And anyway, we've been divorced four years and they've been married that long, I really am ancient history. He should get over his paranoia and get on with his life."
Piers smiled, "I'll tell him."
I allowed a pause to build, then asked, "Is he going to be a problem?"
"In what way?"
"In that having a senior player going around saying that the Managing Director has bust up his marriage isn't exactly conducive to harmony and cooperation in the team."
"I don't think so. He'll get short shrift from me if he does. I've already reminded him that you treated him with respect at work, I expect him to do the same for you. Whether he will or not - we'll find out."
I smiled, and decided it was time to change subject, "So what are you doing over Easter?"
"We're going up to stay with Ester," He played with the sound, " Ester at Easter; Easter with Ester." But then he continued, "She's expecting our first grandchild. Not for another month yet, but we're taking up our contribution: the crib, and travelling cot, bags full of clothes, and probably a cheque if I'm still in a good mood on Monday." He smiled proudly.
"So you and Jeanette are going to be grandparents. Congratulations. It's rather nice that you are close enough to be involved."
"Well, my main contribution was about twenty five years ago, but I enjoyed it!" He smiled and winked.
I was just getting into my car as Ralph came out. I stood and waited for him. He also looked worried, but he smiled at me, "Got time for a quick sherry?"
I smiled, got out of my car door again and followed him, "Sure."
Once we were ensconced in his shed, and we each had a plastic cup half full of the rich dark liquid, he looked at me, "It's serious. He's talking solicitors."
I considered that news for a while, so many emotions and thoughts washed over me, but I found the voice to say, "I'm sorry. Any idea what she is going to do?"
"None at all at this stage. At the moment she's at their house, and appears to be staying there. But, of course, they are welcome here."
"Well, that's good to know. But tell her, if she has any financial problems then I'll see what I can do. The boys need a good home with their mother. And I don't want them stuck in a place where there is no love, just because she can't afford to make the right decision."
Ralph put his hand out and squeezed my arm as a reply.
We sipped our sherries in silence. It was me that eventually broke it, "Susan must be worried. If having Molly married to Peter was her security, then not having her married to Peter will be her insecurity."
"I wouldn't worry about Susan. How about you? If this is the end for Peter, then you must feel something... and don't try and be magnanimous. There must be a bit of you that is crowing."
I smiled, "Well, Yes there is. But poor Molly. She gave me up for the man of her dreams, and now that's falling apart. She must be devastated."
Again we sat in silence, then Ralph looked up at me, he was obviously searching my face, choosing his words carefully, "Susan may have preferred Peter, but that doesn't mean I did. As far as I was concerned, you were always a far better son-in-law than him, on the only criterion that matters. Would you think about trying again?"
"Good Heavens, No!" I paused to look at him, how do I politely tell Molly's *** why not? "I can think of a hundred reasons why not. She dumped me for Peter, OK? I accept that in her eyes I came second to him. And, if they are splitting then I'm sorry for her, but that doesn't alter the fact that I come second to him."
"Don't you have regrets?"
"Yes, of course I have regrets. Everybody has things in their lives that they regret. Don't you?"
He nodded, "Yes. I always believed that her marrying Peter was a mistake, but I didn't do anything to stop it. I regret that. I regret that I didn't interfere enough when you two were splitting up to make you try again. Yes, I've got regrets." He looked very sad, suddenly he looked older than his sixty something years.
"Well, you have no reason to regret not interfering. No one should ever interfere between a man and wife. Not even a father-in-law. And, I've told you before, Molly never gave me any reason, any hope, that there was any point in trying to rebuild what she was throwing away. I accept that, so should you, Ralph." It was my turn to give his arm a comforting squeeze. "And anyway, it was all a long time ago, and we were different people then."
"Helene?"
"Partly. Helene is a very important part of my life. I owe her so much."
"But she's not part of your future?" It was a question, not a statement.
"No." I looked up at him, "I'll say this for your ********, Ralph, she taught me what love really is. Yes, it was all the passion of two young people, and we were young then. But it was the total trust, commitment and security of life. In those days my life had only one future - with Molly. There were no alternatives." I smiled at him and shrugged, "Well there wasn't until she forced one onto me. But with Helene, there were always alternatives, and one of them was to walk away, and I've taken it. Helene is a wonderful girl, but she was no Molly."
"So, it wasn't Helene at the Ball last night?"
"No. That was Myra. Delectable Myra as my secretary calls her."
"Is she serious?"
Suddenly I remembered something, "No. But I think she told Molly she was. Apparently she met Molly in the Ladies, and Molly asked. I don't think Myra knew who she was talking to, but she gave a smart reply." Then a thought struck me, "Oh, No, Ralph. You can't claim that my being at that Ball with Myra is Peter and Molly's problem. And if anything, Myra telling Molly that we're an item even if we aren't, should have put both Molly's and Peter's minds to rest."
Ralph just watched me, "Talk to Molly, please Chris."
"I made one mistake in all of this. That afternoon when I went back to their house. I'm not interfering any more. If Molly wants to talk to me, well she knows where she can find me. But as she couldn't tell me anything over that whole afternoon, I doubt whether she's going to say anything of importance now."
Ralph smiled, "Myra was the girl that went to Marston Abbey that afternoon and upset Peter enough to send him home early, wasn't she?"
Now that was true, and that thought led to all sorts of possibilities. "I can see that Peter might think that indicates I was plotting against him, but I'm not that devious." I paused, looked at him and smiled "Well I am ........ but I didn't think of it."
"I'm going to ask you again: Please talk to Molly. I know she has things she needs to talk about."
"No, Ralph. I understand that she might need a shoulder to cry on, but you're asking too much of me to volunteer that it's my shoulder. I'm not the person for her to talk to about her problems with Peter." I looked at him, quite sternly, "It'd be too painful. There'd be too many memories. I'm not doing it. OK?"
Ralph looked defeated, "OK." He paused, "It's Easter next week. Got any plans?"
"No, not really, why?"
"Well, I don't know how it will turn out, but it might be nice if the boys saw you with Molly. Their future is being shaken around a bit at the moment. They can stay here as many nights as they like if things aren't good at Peter and Molly's, but it might be nice if their *** was around a bit. How about coming round on the Monday."
"Well, you'd better wait and see what's happening. But I'd like to take them out all day on one of the days, if that would help. So just let me know which day would suit you ..... and Molly of course."
"You could at least talk to Molly about those sort of arrangements. Myself and Susan shouldn't be some sort of middlemen about your children."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll leave it a couple of days, until things have calmed down a bit...but, Yes, I'll talk to her. It's Jamie's birthday soon and I need to talk to her about his present anyway. I really don't want to add to yours or Susan's load with the boys, you do so much for them as it is."
We left it there, and I drove home - with a lot to think about.
That evening, at home alone, I hit the whisky bottle. Not too much, but they did slip down too easily. This is rare for me. There was a period after the split from Molly when I did drink alone at home, but it wasn't good and I stopped myself. It seemed ironic that the collapse of Molly's second marriage had me doing it again.
I'm not sure what I really felt about it all. There were waves of sheer 'I told you so' joy. But there were waves of pity for her and what she's going through. There were doubts about the future for the boys, it was so important to me that they shouldn't be damaged by this. I realised there was no pity for Peter. I guess he was going through Hell at the moment, and it was wrong of me to not at least feel some sympathy for the guy, but I didn't.
And then there were the questions: How could I build an easy friendship with Molly if she was distraught as I assumed she would be? I still hadn't answered the question of why she wanted to take me to her bed that Friday afternoon. My cuckold-wimp theory was shot to ribbons, but what was the alternative? The only one that I can think of is that she was overcome with emotion at the remembrance of what we once had, just as I was. I do remember that she had said it was a one off, so I guess she thought 'just one more time - for old time's sake.'
And then there was whatever Ralph meant by saying that I was the better son-in-law by the only criterion that counts? That I'll have a sherry with him in his shed? That I gave him grandsons? My guess is that Peter fires blanks, and maybe that is part of the cause of the break-up. Who knows?
And with one more whisky - who cares?
Carole was already at her desk when I arrived on Monday morning. "Morning!" I said cheerfully as I passed.
She smiled, "And how was the delectable Myra?"
"Delectable!" I said as I disappeared into my office, but then I put my head around the door and added, "And I delected!"
Two minutes later Carole came in with my coffee, "And did you delect for just the evening, or was it a whole weekend of delecting?"
"A gentleman would never tell."
"But will you be delecting again? And will it be with Myra?"
"Well, I certainly hope that I will be delecting again, I'm too young to give up delecting just yet." I paused and considered her second question, "But will it be with Myra? I hope so, but it's not vital that it is."
After that Monday passed quickly I did go looking for Myra at one time, but I was told that she had left to go to London, and wasn't due back until Tuesday. On Monday afternoon I was invited to appear on a panel of businessmen for a local television programme, and I accepted. But, other than for that, I think I was rather grateful that Monday just passed without any personal issues coming up, just good solid work.
Tuesday continued where Monday left off, I did leave a message for Myra to come and see me before she went home, but I was stuck in an interminable meeting with Production all afternoon. I also learnt that my television appearance was neatly timed by the producers to be on the same day as Jamesons finally closed. Bugger. That meant hours in PR getting my words and the corporate line absolutely word perfect.
Stephen Hobbs phoned me from Exeter. Apparently they were having a staff party on the 28th April, the Saturday after Easter. It was going to be a barn dance, all very informal, and I was invited. I accepted, and in fact I thought it might be fun. It reminded me what a good bunch the Exeter staff seemed to be, but more important, that I wasn't sure how they fitted in my vision of the future. After some more chat with Stephen, I agreed that I would actually spend the Friday in Exeter, and do some blue sky thinking about strategy with him, and maybe a couple of his most senior and trusted guys. Later I asked Carole to book me a nice hotel in Exeter for the Friday and Saturday nights.
I was working at my desk after Carole had left for the day, when Myra came through my office door. "You needn't have called for me, I was going to come and see you anyway."
I looked up and smiled, "For business or pleasure?"
She smiled and parried, "It's always a pleasure to see you about business." I waited until she added, "For private reasons, maybe not pleasure."
"That sounds ominous. How about I do you a deal? I wanted to see you for both business and pleasure. How about I do the business bit now, and I buy you a simple dinner for us both to do the private bit? Out of the office and all that."
She looked doubtful.
I added, "What's the worse that can happen? My guess is that you are going to tell me that you want to cool it. Well you might as well get a meal out of me before you do, and I promise that I won't have a tantrum in a restaurant and embarrass you. What do you say?" I smiled, I hope winningly.
She smiled, but neutrally asked, "What was the business?"
"When are you going to Exeter next?"
"Nothing scheduled. Why?"
"I'm beginning to wonder what we do with them. It seems to me that they have a great capacity to be expanded, and to do other work for other companies. But that is not within our remit of building a company in the health market. If they are to just continue as they are, then why don't we relocate them to here, in Bristol? They are a brighter, more intelligent bunch than a lot of the current incumbents. To inject some of the Exeter guys into Production would be a good thing, wake them up a bit...."
"Ooooh! I can see Dennis Murrell having something to say about that!"
I smiled, "So can I. But none of us, including Dear Dennis, are indispensable." I continued to smile.
She smiled, "And Stephen Hobbs as Production Director? I could live with that."
"Not necessarily, but Yes, I could live with it as well. Or we could just sell them off, make a profit, and contract with them on the open market."
"Mmmmmm...." She said thoughtfully.
"So? When can you go and spend a day in Exeter, with that little lot in the back of your mind?"
Myra picked up her diary, "The earliest would be Friday week."
"Great! I'm going to be down there that day, so maybe we can touch base sometime at the end of the day. I can give you a lift if you like."
"OK." And she wrote a note in her diary.
I didn't add, 'and you can stay for the weekend and go to a Barn Dance.' I thought I'd see if we were going to have dinner tonight before I fish for a dirty weekend in a nice country hotel outside of Exeter.
She smiled, "So what about this dinner then?"
I suggested we drive in convoy down to the Old Vic area and park down there. There are plenty of restaurants in that area. As we walked up from the car park she linked her arm through mine, and we strolled up the road.
"What do you fancy? How about Italian?" I pointed at the lime green one, "I ate there once, it was quite good."
"Suits me." She said. And that's what we did.
We just chatted until the food turned up, but once we started eating, she obviously decided to turn to her problem, "Chris, I want to thank you so much for Saturday. It was pretty important for me."
I looked up, and took a sip of wine and waited,
"Saturday night and Sunday morning, I mean. It was the first time since Jonathon and an important milestone for me. But, I don't want to lose your friendship, your confidence in me at work, because of a passing romantic entanglement."
"You know I've had doubts. I've never dated any one from work before. I've never been attracted enough to a colleague, so its never been a problem before. Strictly speaking, you aren't a Franks employee, your Head Office staff, just seconded."
"It's our working relationship that's important. And I don't really think I'm a fit and proper person for you to get involved with just yet anyway."
I smiled, "I'd much rather get involved with an improper person." But then I put my hand across the table and gently squeezed hers, "Look, Myra, I've been there. It's taken me over four years from splitting with Molly to get where I am now. You were with Jonathon for what? Six? Seven years? Take your time. Have the relationships you need. And don't let anyone push you around."
She looked into my eyes, and just said "Thank you."
We ate in silence for a while, but when we'd finished and they'd cleared the plates, I asked, "What are you doing for Easter?"
"Nothing now. I thought I'd go home and visit my parents. But last week they suddenly announced that they were going to drive down to stay with my Uncle Bill and Aunt Anne at their cottage down in the south of France. So, I'm on my own."
"Well, so am I. Why don't we do something together one evening. Not a date, no sex, no intention or hope of sex, just friends going to see a film or the theatre or something. It's better than you sitting by yourself in an empty flat in Bath while I sit in an empty flat in Bristol. How about it?"
"Don't tempt me. I used to love theatre, but Jonathon hated it, so we never went."
"Well, why don't I see if I can rustle up some theatre tickets for Bath or Bristol. We must be able to get into something reasonable. How about Saturday night?"
"Just as friends?"
"Just as friends."
"OK. You're on. But only if I pay. I don't want you paying all the time."
"OK. I can live with that." I smiled. "Do you want some pud, or just a coffee?"
"Just coffee, please."
I called a waiter over and ordered two coffees. When he'd gone, I looked at Myra, she smiled at me, "Tell me about Jonathon. I have the feeling that he had some heavy hang-ups, and you are only just beginning to work through them."
She glanced around the restaurant and she looked uncomfortable.
I immediately backed off, "Sorry. Don't answer that, or not here anyway."
She smiled weakly. I was just wondering what to talk about when the waiter brought our coffees and saved me.
It was Myra that broke what was becoming an awkward silence, "I'm sorry, Chris." She stopped stirring her coffee and looked up into my eyes, "I think I do need to talk about it, if only to confirm my analysis, but not here."
"Well, how about we drink this coffee, and then go back to my place and have another cup there. Nothing else, just two friends talking in private about private things."
She smiled, "I guess I should, while I'm in the mood, and its all going around in my head."
And that's what we did. In fact she beat me back to my place and was standing in the lobby when I got there. I made us two big mugs of good coffee, and we sat down.
"OK?" I prompted.
She sat up, looking tense and holding her coffee mug in two hands, "Well, I guess Jonathon was a bit of a control freak. But I think that by me constantly conceding to him just made it worse. He seemed to want to push more and more to find my limit. I think the relationship was on a self-destruct course for years, slowly and incrementally."
"How? What makes you think that?"
"Well, take the hair thing. I don't really think he really had a hair fetish. I think it was all about control. He never showed any particular interest in my head hair for instance. It was just one day, in early summer, when I was going to trim my bikini line. And I told him, and suggested that maybe I should get a Brazilian, would he like it? It was just teasing talk, really. But he suddenly said No, he didn't like that. He wanted me to leave it natural. And it sort of grew from there. A year later, and it took that long, he suddenly said he didn't want me to shave under my arms. And much later after that, he used to enjoy embarrassing me, making me lift my arm when out with his friends, on silly excuses."
"That sounds like it was a power trip for him."
She shrugged, "Do you know what really got to me, really pissed me off? Once, I heard one of his friends say something about my hairy pits, and he said that it was something I insisted doing, that he had to tolerate it for the sake of the relationship. That really pissed me."
I smiled, "Matthew, 10:33"
Myra just looked puzzled and waited. So I added, "Whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven." I smiled, "Haven't you ever had much to do with The Old Man?"
She laughed, and relaxed back into the sofa.
I thought now was my moment, "And the promise?"
She looked at me, slightly accusingly I thought, then her face softened and smiled, "I thought I covered myself quite well." She paused, "When I met Jonathon, he was a virgin, and I wasn't. Oh I wasn't some harlot, but I'd had a couple of boyfriends, and I lost it, or gave it away, when I was eighteen."
I smiled, "I was seventeen and *****. I can remember her name, it was Annette Pyrford, but I can't remember what she looked like, except that she had long dark hair. And I don't remember much more."
"He was Taylor Simmonds, and I quite liked him, but I shouldn't have. He didn't last long afterwards, I guess there was no challenge for him once I'd conceded." She paused, "Anyway, Jonathon got real uptight about it. He hated the thought of my previous boyfriends. So, I gave him my bum. I'd wanted to try it for some time, and actually, done right, I rather enjoy it, but I promised him that he was and would be the only man to have me there."
"I don't think that promise is still valid. One day you will meet a man who will sweep you off your feet, and you must be able to give him all of yourself."
"You're right." She looked rather thoughtful.
I took the break to stand up and go over to the sideboard, and with my back to her I said, "I'm going to have a brandy, I hope you don't mind. I won't encourage you to drink, as you're driving, but you are welcome to one if you want."
"I think I'm beginning to regret another promise I made myself."
"What was that?"
"That I wouldn't ever go to bed with you again."
I turned round to look at her, "Are you sure?"
"Very." She looked at me, "Oh, I don't think we are going anywhere. But you are so good for me, you understand. Just one more night would be nice, and you can help me break that other silly promise."
Suddenly I was silent. I was being asked to take this beautiful woman to bed, to have anal sex with her, and all of it was about Jonathon and none of it was about me.
"No." I said, firmly, but then I softened, "I'll very happily invite you to my bed tonight and we can do anything you want that exorcises Jonathon, I like it all, promise. But tomorrow morning we will make love one more time, and it will be just us, you and me. And that will be our one last time."
She stood and came over to me. She put her arms either side of my head, and kissed me, "Sorry. I was being selfish. You're right, and you are too nice a guy. I think that by tomorrow morning Jonathon will be in my past, and I promise you it will only be you and me." And we kissed again, then she said, "So I can have that brandy."
I poured us two brandies, and we sat together on the sofa. We both seemed to relax, and suddenly I felt we were real friends.
Myra leant back into me as we sat on the sofa, sipping our brandies. Once in a while one of us would say something, and maybe get a response, but on the whole it was a comfortable silence. Then she turned on her side, with her head over my lap, and her hands started to massage my cock through my trousers.
I'd been half hard whilst we were just sitting, but it didn't take her long to have me fully erect. Then she calmly unzipped me and started kissing the head of my cock. It wasn't long before she opened her mouth and was sucking me gently, whilst her hand continued to wank me. I lasted about five minutes.
Myra looked up and smiled. She had a little bit of my cum trickling down from the corner of her mouth, which she sensuously licked with her tongue.
We both said "Thank you" at the same time, and then both laughed.
"I thought you wanted me to do naughty things to you in bed." I observed,
"I do. I'm sure you can recover. Tell you what, to let you have time to recover, can I borrow your shower?"
"Of course. You'll find clean towels in the cupboard just outside the bathroom."
"And can I borrow your razor. I haven't shaved since Saturday, and I want to be smooth for you."
"Can I watch? Or even help?" I asked with a smile.
She looked puzzled for a moment, "Oh! I was expecting to present myself all clean and smooth, but I guess...if you want...."
"No. Don't worry. The thought of you presenting yourself all clean and smooth will help my recovery. Go on...go and have your shower." And I kissed her.
I was waiting in bed when she came out of the bathroom. I was beginning to feel guilty and self-conscious. She was coming to me freshly shaved and showered and I hadn't even brushed my teeth. I'd already been out of bed once to flit myself down with some cologne that was sitting on a chest of drawers, all my other stuff was in the bathroom with her.
And then she stepped out of the bathroom, simply naked, shaven and clean. No make-up and her hair just towelled dry and combed out. She posed leaning against the door post. I couldn't help but compare her to the two major women of my life, Molly and Helene. She was younger and firmer than Molly, but somehow less sensuous. And she was more rounded, with bigger breasts than Helene. But she was up there, she rated with them.
I recovered myself from my thoughts to say "You look good enough to eat."
She smiled, and said, "I hoped you'd say that. Because I was looking forward to being eaten." And I laughed.
From that moment on the sex was fun. We laughed and joked. We fucked and sucked.
At one point, when I was taking her anally, as promised, and I was working hard at making sure she enjoyed it, I heard her say, quite quietly and into the pillow, "Sod you Jonathon! I'll give my arse to anyone I like." I obviously wasn't meant to hear it and I didn't respond. But mind you, at that moment, I had other things on my mind and certainly not bloody Jonathon.
I was gently pumping away at her arse, when suddenly she started to really meet my strokes, "Oh! ...... Oh my God! ..... I'm going to cum..... Oh! Chris.... Don't stop ..... Aaaaagh!" I wasn't long behind her, if you'll excuse the pun!
Afterwards, as we lay on the bed, both staring at the ceiling, she said, "I've never cum before from being fucked back there...... I like it, the feeling of giving myself....of feeling so full....but I've never cum before.... Jonathon never managed that..... Oh! Thank you, Chris." And she turned and kissed me.
"That's what freedom does for you." I said.
When I could rouse myself, I did go and clean my teeth, and wash my cock. And I returned to bed and we snuggled and fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up to Myra raining little gentle kisses all over my face. As I opened my eyes, she saw I was awake and glued her lips to mine in a passionate kiss, with her tongue probing my mouth before I was awake enough to fight back. By sheer force, not resisted much by Myra, I lifted my torso up and rolled us over so that I was looking down on her. Then I kissed my way down to her breasts.
Her breasts were so full and so firm, for a moment I wondered if she had implants, and I purposely played with them in my hands, but they were real. Without doubt, they were her best feature, but her whole body was top rated.
I climbed between her legs, and my cock nudged its way into her pussy. We made love, slowly and gently, watching each other intently. She was smiling, and I leaned down to kiss her, and this time it was my tongue probing her mouth. I could feel us both rising in urgency, her hips were meeting my thrusts, faster and faster.
"Cum for me, Chris....Cum for me...." She started a chant.
And I did as I was told. And I felt her sigh and her pussy tighten as she came with me.
I kissed her on the nose, "And that was for us. Just boring old missionary position sex, but it was great. And thank you, it was just us two doing it." And I kissed her nose again.
We lay there for a while, her in the crook of my arm, until I decided to bring us back to reality, "Do you need to get back to your place to change before you go into work?"
"Yes and No. I've got a twelve o'clock in London, and I was intending to just work at home this morning anyway, and go up at about ten o'clock on the train from Bath. So I'm relaxed about time."
I kissed the top of her head, "Well thanks to you, I feel in a gentle and amiable mood. So I'm not in a hurry either. I'll give Carole a call and send my apologies if I turn up a bit late for my first. I think it was an HR meeting, with having to decide the across the board basic salary rises for the year." I paused for a second, "Probably as well if I'm late for that. I'm in too good a mood to talk about pay rises, I'd give too much away."
We lay there in silence for a few more minutes, then I began to move, "Why don't you take the bathroom, whilst I go and make a cup of coffee."
I took her back to my breakfast café, it was a lovely spring morning and warm enough for us to sit at one of their outside tables.
Myra was sparkling this morning, she obviously felt good. "Thank you, Chris. Because of you I seem to have come a long way in the last week. So much further than the previous two months. I really feel that maybe, just maybe, life will be OK."
I smiled, "Well, you never know, on the train this morning a tall dark handsome man may come and sit opposite you, and he will be your future."
"Ooooh, I hope so. And if he did, I think I might even notice him. Whereas last week I would just have sat and compared him to Jonathon. But, what's your future? What does Chris Bennett want? To sit on the train opposite a blue eyed honey blonde who will give you four children in a little thatched cottage with roses around the door?"
I laughed, "Hardly. I reckon my future is a pleasant string of ladies. None of whom will I care about too much, but equally I will care about them enough. And one day, when I'm past being eyed as a potential father and mortgage payer, I'll meet a lady who wants to commit to a partnership of business and travel and fine living."
She looked at me, "That sounds rather sad. You'd make a great father. It seems terribly shallow to me."
I smiled, "I'm already trying to be an OK father." I paused and sighed, "I had depth once, and I lost it. So for a while, shallow's good."
I was aware of Myra just watching me as I spread apricot jam on a chunk of brioche. I waited.
"Do you still love her?"
Now that was a question! "Molly? I loved her once, and I guess she owns a bit of me, but times change. You can't live in the past."
Myra was quiet for a minute, and I was beginning to believe that I had successfully shut her up, but no.
"I don't think that actually answered my question."
"Because it is a question that is totally ....." I paused to choose my word, "Irrelevant? Hypothetical?.... I don't know. But what you are asking is: Am I in love with another man's wife? And the answer has to be No. And anyway, I'm not quite sure what Love is anymore. I thought Molly and I had it, but we obviously didn't. So, No, she is not part of my life in that sense. I have no commitment to her. My life has to be other people and other loves." I paused again, "And I think it's time I went to work."
As I drove into work I thought about Myra. Was I a fool to let such a beautiful girl slip from my grasp? Could I do anything to stop it? Well, I don't know about the second question, but I think it was sensible to let it relax into a friendship. I need some friends, I don't have too many, and a love affair at work is guaranteed to be trouble. But, I do need to widen my social life, meet more people, some as potential friends, and others as potential lovers.
I got to work at 09:15, which was a bit late, but not too bad. Carole greeted me with a smile, and told me that the Personnel meeting had only just started in my office, but that they'd postponed the discussion on pay rises for another day, and the accountants had returned to their desks.
I went through my messages and appointments with her at her desk, before I made my belated entrance to the meeting. Carole was watching me and suddenly said, "You seem in a good mood."
"I am." I winked.
"You've been delecting again, I can tell."
"Yes. But from here on in you will be interested to know, we are just good friends."
She looked slightly sad but questioning, so I added, "I mean it. We really are good friends. We both decided that a good working relationship and our careers were worth more than a passing affair. So don't worry."
"Pity. I thought you and the delectable Myra were well matched. You both seem to have upset the same amount of people when the rumour went round that you'd hooked up together."
I raised my eyebrows and waited, "Of course you upset plenty of the girls who had dreams that they could be the second Mrs Bennett. But Myra dashed as many men's fantasies."
"Well leave the girl's hearts dashed, I could do without that. But the men's fantasies can be restored with hope. That's up to Myra."
I went on reading my messages, and handed one back to her, it was an invite to a breakfast meeting of local business people, with an ex-Cabinet Minister as guest of honour. "I'll go to that. I need to go to more of those sort of things, widen my circle and all that."
And then I had an afterthought, "And so that my friend Myra .." and I put heavy emphasis on the 'friend' word, "...and I can have something to do over Easter, could you see if you can get a couple of good theatre tickets for Saturday night, please? Bath or Bristol, it doesn't really matter. A straight play or a musical, just something reasonably intelligent and entertaining."
I opened my office door and joined the meeting.
A couple of hours later, I was sitting at my desk trying to set an Agenda for the next board meeting when my phone rang, it was Carole: "I have Ralph Tremaine on the line, he needs to speak to you."
I sighed, "Put him through."
"Ralph! What can I do for you."
"Chris, thanks for phoning me back. I know I said you had to sort out this weekend with Molly, but I saw her yesterday and I did it for you."
I'm not phoning him back, but I ignored that one, "And?"
"And she's a complete mess. She doesn't know whether she's coming or going."
There was a pregnant pause while Ralph waited for me to volunteer to talk to her. I didn't.
Eventually, he picked up. "I think the best thing I can do is try to put some structure, some discipline on her Easter weekend. So, I've insisted that she and the boys stay here for the weekend. We'll go to Church on both Friday and Sunday, the formality of dressing a bit smarter and a formal service might help. You would be very welcome to join us."
"No thank you. That's not my scene."
Again there was a pause which I ended this time, "I was thinking of giving the boys at least one whole day out sometime. Give them a break from what must be a fairly tense atmosphere. I was thinking of Friday, as soon as possible really."
"Well, you can take them Friday. I doubt whether they need too many Church services. Why not take them out on Sunday afternoon as well, and come to lunch or tea on Monday?"
"You know what day Monday is?"
"Yes, it's Shakespeare's birthday. It will mean so much to her that you are there that day of all days. And what better day to talk to her?"
"God! You don't half ask a lot, Ralph."
"Well, you can give her some hope for the future, what better day to look forward as well as back. 'The miserable have no other medicine but only hope.' Isn't that Measure for Measure?"
"You should choose something from Love's Labour's Lost."
"One of the tragedies would be the most appropriate." Again he paused, "I know its hard, but come for tea on Monday at the least. Please, Chris."
I sighed, I didn't relish the prospect, "OK, then."
"And if she really does want to talk, then listen this time. OK."
"Now Ralph, I think I've always listened. Even when I was hearing things I didn't much like. But, if you could tell her to focus a bit on what a shit Peter is, then I might like listening a bit more."
"He isn't. He was wrong at the outset, but he isn't a shit. Now, we'll see you on Friday, before ten to pick up the boys?"
"Yes."
"And you'll come to tea on Monday."
"Yes. I said so, didn't I?"
"Good. Well I won't take up any more of your time."
I put the phone down and went out to Carole, "That was good of me, phoning Ralph back like that."
She smiled, "Yes it was, wasn't it?"
I looked at her, and shook my head, but I was smiling.
"Oh, Chris..." She'd obviously thought of something, "You're going to the Theatre Royal Bath, for A Streetcar Named Desire, curtain up at eight o'clock."
"Well done and thank you. I'll let the no longer delectable Myra know."
The rest of Wednesday passed fairly uneventfully. I did let Myra know about our theatre date. In the evening I did my television bit and seemed to get away from the flak flying around on Jamesons closure. But as I drove home my thoughts returned to trying to work out what I really felt about the collapse of Molly's marriage. My ideas changed by the mile driven, everything from delight at Peter's suffering through to fear for the future of Jamie and Ben. Later, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, but still came to no particular conclusion.
Business on Thursday went well, but being the last day before the Easter break, everybody seemed to be anxious to leave dead on time if not before. So, by five thirty I was sitting in my comfortable chair in my office, all alone and beginning to draft out ideas on how to focus the right players on new products.
I was deep in thought when I was roused by a knock on my open door, I looked up and there was Piers McBaine.
I smiled, he didn't. "This time I really do think you may have been a fucking bastard."
I waved him to sit down on one of the sofas. "And why?"
"I've been up at a conference in Harrogate for the first three days of this week. I've come back to find a very depressed Peter Davies, mainly working by himself in his room, hardly talking to anybody, and if anybody talks to him...... well he's near to tears and talking of divorce."
"Oh!" I said, still trying to keep my responses neutral.
"And he told me a little more about the other Friday." Piers stared at me, and I stared back, neither of us backing down.
I went and poured two whiskies. I handed him one, Piers watched me without a word, I tried to choose my words carefully, "Maybe I was a fucking bastard; I really don't understand that afternoon. I guess I should have backed away, but I didn't. So maybe you're right."
"What happened? I know how it ended up, I don't know how it started."
"It started with Molly phoning me up and saying she wanted to talk to me about something, and could we meet for a long lunch."
I went on to give him a fairly clinical summary of that afternoon. I finished with, "I know it shouldn't have happened, but my brain wasn't in logical mode, it was just mush. I was a walking talking bundle of emotions. Have you ever been in their dining room, for instance?"
Piers looked surprised, "Yes, of course I have."
"Well, that dining room is an exact replica of mine and Molly's dining room of five years ago. I helped choose that table and those chairs. Even the pictures on the walls are straight from Molly's and my old home..... and the colour of the walls. You probably can't begin to imagine what hit me in nostalgia, in sadness for all that I'd lost. And then she desperately needs me to take her to bed. I didn't stand a chance. It was wrong of me, and I don't know why she did it, but I followed as a lamb to the slaughter."
"So it wasn't all premeditated? Peter thinks you planned it all as an act of revenge. And what was it you said to him as you were leaving?"
I told him of my taking the opportunity to take revenge, "But I didn't plan it that way. I promise you Piers, I thought I was going to lunch with my ex to discuss the boys' education, and whatever she wanted to talk about - and I still don't know what that was." I smiled, "And it wasn't even particularly wonderful as far as sex goes. It was overlaid with huge emotion, but the act itself was pretty basic, quick and meaningless."
Piers sipped his whisky, thoughtfully.
It was me that broke the silence, "I would have thought that this single incident would be something to be got over, not allowed to destroy a good marriage. And surely, from what we know, Peter isn't an innocent angel, he knows these things happen. Once upon a time he seemed to build a life based on making them happen."
Piers sighed and looked at me, as if trying to make up his mind about something, "Why do you think Molly did it?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. At first I wondered if they were playing some silly sex game where she gets caught in bed with her lover, and then they spend the rest of the evening banging away like newly weds..."
"No, I can't see that..." Piers interjected.
"No, nor can I now. I can only assume that Molly was overcome with some similar form of emotion as myself. That she wanted to recapture something we used to have, just one more time. And she did say it was only going to be one time. Or, maybe deep inside her there was a need to balance the books between Peter and myself. That she cheated on me with him, so she needed to cheat on him with me." I shook my head sadly, "I just don't know."
"Peter is saying that Molly is still deeply in love with you. That he can't fight it any longer, and that's why they are at the end of their marriage."
"Well that's rubbish from so many points of view. The guy's paranoid."
"Why? Is it so preposterous?"
"Molly had an affair with Peter when she was married to me. That doesn't sound as if she's deeply in love with me, does it? Then without a word of regret she lets me divorce her, and is engaged to be married to him before even the decree nisi is declared." I paused, before adding sarcastically, "She really pined for me and our marriage."
Piers sat in silence, just thinking.
So I continued, "My guess is that Peter is just paranoid about me. I guess that since I've come back. there must be a lot of talk and action in their house about me. Molly has to get the boys to her parents so that I can pick them up. The boys would talk about what we did when they're with me. And he can't even get away from me at work, he's surrounded by gossip and cruel comments at work. I've invaded his life, whether he likes it or not. And if he complains then Molly probably reminds him that I am the boys' father, and I have a right to see them. In effect, I have a right to be there in his life. It can't be easy for him." I paused, "And then, to top it all, he comes home early and finds me in his bed with his wife." I paused and laughed, "I hate the guy, but I do have some sympathy for him."
"But why does he then say it is because Molly loves you? Peter isn't an emotional fool, he's a clear thinking logical researcher."
"I don't know. Maybe its easier to blame me or Molly or anyone but himself."
"What will you do if he's right and you're wrong?"
I smiled, "God only knows! But as the idea is pretty unlikely. Of all the things in this bizarre situation, that is the one that is least likely to keep me awake at night."
We sat in silence for some time, and then I began to realise that Piers hadn't made any comment on anything. So I prompted him for at least some information, "Is Peter still living at home? I know that Molly is still there."
"Yes and No. You know their gym come guest suite that should have been a garage?" I nodded, "Well I've heard, Peter didn't tell me this but Sharon Booth did, that he has moved in there, with a camping stove and a camp bed."
"So it is serious, then. I had thought that if they were still together at home, then time would help blow things over."
"Oh, it's serious. But I don't think he's actually seen a solicitor yet."
"Well, I've been doing my best to stay out of it, except for that afternoon when I interfered too much. But Molly's father is insisting that I talk to her on Monday. I'm not looking forward to it, I haven't the faintest idea what to say." Suddenly a thought struck me, "This all blew up not after Peter caught us in bed, but after he'd tried reconciling with her, after his week away. So, it's not that Molly and myself ended up in bed that afternoon that is the problem, and he's kidding himself if he's now claiming it is."
"I don't think he is. He's saying there's been a chain of events that convinces him that Molly's in love with you."
"Back to the paranoid theory." I looked Piers straight in the eye, "I promise you Piers, ever since Peter Davies's name was first mentioned by Molly over four years ago now, nearly five, and except for that Friday afternoon, she has never ever said a single word to me that I could interpret as anything but that she doesn't love me, and she does love Peter. And he's paranoid if he thinks otherwise. And anyway, we've been divorced four years and they've been married that long, I really am ancient history. He should get over his paranoia and get on with his life."
Piers smiled, "I'll tell him."
I allowed a pause to build, then asked, "Is he going to be a problem?"
"In what way?"
"In that having a senior player going around saying that the Managing Director has bust up his marriage isn't exactly conducive to harmony and cooperation in the team."
"I don't think so. He'll get short shrift from me if he does. I've already reminded him that you treated him with respect at work, I expect him to do the same for you. Whether he will or not - we'll find out."
I smiled, and decided it was time to change subject, "So what are you doing over Easter?"
"We're going up to stay with Ester," He played with the sound, " Ester at Easter; Easter with Ester." But then he continued, "She's expecting our first grandchild. Not for another month yet, but we're taking up our contribution: the crib, and travelling cot, bags full of clothes, and probably a cheque if I'm still in a good mood on Monday." He smiled proudly.
"So you and Jeanette are going to be grandparents. Congratulations. It's rather nice that you are close enough to be involved."
"Well, my main contribution was about twenty five years ago, but I enjoyed it!" He smiled and winked.
