I drove home on that Holiday Monday afternoon, I not quite sure how, I don't remember any of the journey. But I got home, and I don't think I left a trail of destruction in my wake.
As I put the key in my front door all I could think about was having a large whisky. Then I heard a little voice saying: No, don't run to the whisky bottle. Instead I put on a pair of shorts and picked up my cycle helmet.
I cycled and cycled. I found the start of the Bristol-Bath cycle route, and I set out. By the time I got to Bath I was exhausted. I hadn't cycled that far in years, if ever. At first, I had been full of angry energy, now I'd be grateful for any energy. I'm not sure how I managed it, but I turned round and cycled back again. By the time I pushed the bike up the last hill towards home, I guess I'd cycled about thirty five miles, maybe a bit less. I was knackered, my back screamed at me, by thighs just ached, my knees refused to bend anymore, and I had basically no feeling in my legs below my knees. Even my shoulders ached, and what have they got to do with cycling? Shoulders don't put any effort in!
I got into my flat, and I flopped down in a chair. I must have sat there for half and hour, just sitting there. Finally I dragged myself off for the longest, hottest shower of my life.
By now it was getting late. I felt better, and was padding around the flat in my bath robe, when my phone rang. It was Len.
"Hello, Chris. I thought I'd give you a call. Are you OK?"
"I went for a cycle ride. God only knows what made me do it, but I've just cycled about a hundred miles more than I should. I never knew what knackered meant until now."
He laughed, "Well, you sound alright."
"What's happening at your end?"
"Oh, your mother and Ralph took Molly and the two boys back to their house. I think Ralph was to look after Molly, and your mother wasn't objecting to looking after the boys. She's just phoned me to say that they're on their way back, and now she's starting to worry about you. That's why I phoned, so that I can put her mind to rest when she gets here."
"Well, tell her I'm OK. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what to think or do. She threw a hell of a lot at me this afternoon, Len. I don't think I've thought it all through yet."
"Well take your time. Ralph said he tried to warn you that he was sure Molly was going to ask you to do the hardest thing you've probably ever done in your life, only he knows you misunderstood him."
I laughed, "Well I wasn't expecting this one."
"I'm sure a lot of well meaning people will want to know what you're going to do. They expect you to instantly make up your mind. Tell them to bugger off, take your time, and come to the right answer in your own time."
"Well, I'm going to have a whisky and go to bed soon."
"Make sure it's only one. I suspect you found too much friendship in a whisky bottle when all this started, years ago. I don't blame you, it's just that there are better ways."
"That's why I went cycling, so now my drug of choice is ibuprofen to stop the aches and pains."
Len laughed, "See you tomorrow evening, Chris. I'll look forward to it."
He was right, a cup of coffee and a couple of ibuprofen would be better than a whisky.
I sat in my chair, and considered what Molly had told me, and what I thought of it all. I think I was still reacting, I'm knew I still hadn't thought it all through. But, I had come to some conclusions. I was convinced that what she told me was the truth, or at least the truth as she saw it.
Somehow, I could vaguely accept that it explained the divorce. I was part of that, I divorced her after all. And I could see how I got trapped into my belief, into the misunderstanding of the facts. I knew how hurt I was, how angry I was, maybe how unreasonable I was. I could see how the divorce happened. But she should have come to me, or Ralph or someone should have said something. But no one did.
I had real difficulty in accepting that she went off and married Peter. She knew she didn't love him. OK, people do make mistakes, especially on the rebound. Especially when depressed or shocked or whatever her mental state was. But to do something downright stupid and wrong... well that isn't the Molly I thought I knew. And it is someone who I didn't like very much.
And then there was the big one, could we put it all back together? And I hadn't the faintest idea about that one. My inclination was to say No. But was that good sense or cowardice? I didn't know the answer to that either.
I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I guess physical exhaustion has something in its favour.
I woke up the next morning to a little routine that I have practiced so often in my life. I sit on the edge of the bed, and I promise: Never Again. Usually it is never to drink that much again, occasionally it has been never to treat some woman that badly again, this time it was never ever to cycle that far again without getting myself fully fit first.
My legs ached, my back ached, but far more important than that was that my arse was so bloody sore. At the end of a hot shower, which eased my muscles but stung my butt, I could stand upright and even walk at a world shattering pace of about ten miles per century, but my arse just hurt. Eventually I found a half used bottle of after-sun cream, which was the nearest thing I had to any skin cream, and I salved my cheeks with that. It helped.
I cautiously walked through Carole's office, with a surly "Morning." from me.
As I walked to my desk, she followed me, "What happened to you? You didn't meet Peter Davies in that dark alley did you?"
I knew she was joking, but there was an element of truth in it. I smiled to myself, grimly.
"I went for a cycle ride, and I shouldn't have."
"Jamie and Ben too fit for you?"
"I was by myself, and I cycled to Bath and back as a one off. And I don't think I've ever cycled that far and certainly not for years."
She paused thinking about that, "That must be over thirty miles. What in the world made you do a thing like that?"
"Nothing. It seemed a good idea at the time."
"Rubbish. Was this the macho ***, proving something to his sons? Something like that?"
Very quickly I was becoming tired of this conversation and the direction it could take. I tried to move it along, "I don't feel too good today. Any chance we can make sure I have a fairly light day?"
"I'll check the diary. It wasn't going to be too bad anyway. I think you were going to sit here and let a parade of people come and see you." Again she paused, "So what made you do it? You didn't suddenly decide to torture every muscle in your body. Look at you, you can hardly walk. What made you do it, Chris?"
"Nothing. I had some things to think about, that's all."
"Think about what?"
"Think about whether I should sack an over inquisitive secretary. Can we talk about my diary?"
That seemed to close the conversation, and with only one meeting postponed, I expected to get through the day without leaving my office.
I did ask Carole to phone the estate agent for the flat I'd fancied. I'd told the agent on Sunday that I would take it, but now she needed all the details of bank references and personal details for the lease.
Carole looked pleased.
I was suspicious, "Why are you smiling?"
"Two reasons. I thought that was the nicest flat, the one I would have taken if I were you. But also, the agent, she's a niece. About twenty five times removed, but we are related. I told you I had a huge ******, and they pop up at surprising moments."
"Well you can also ask her if she knows of someone who can do my cleaning, and better still, do my laundry as well."
By lunchtime I was feeling better, and I went down to the canteen. The sight of the MD queuing for his lunch and sitting with a bunch of juniors was no longer something to whisper about. I sat with a bunch from IT. Sod's law played, one of them happened to be a very keen cyclist. Half and hour of advice on what I did wrong was not what I needed.
As I came back to my office, Myra was there, talking to Carole. I only caught one phrase from Myra as I approached the open door, "I can try and have a word with him, if you think it will help. He might talk to ....". No prizes for guessing what that was about.
I closed Carole's outer door and turned and looked at them, "My ex-wife of four years chose yesterday to tell me that she'd never loved Peter Davies. That she loved me, only me, and she still does. OK?"
I just kept on walking to my desk, as I turned to sit on the far side, I realised that they had both followed me into my office and were standing in the middle of the room, just looking at me.
"And I'm not going to talk about it. Not now, not until I've grasped it all and vaguely feel that I might understand it. So can we get some work done, please?"
Myra had the good grace to step backwards, and to leave. Carole just stood there looking at me. Suddenly her face softened, "Shit happens!" she announced, and then she too left.
We got through the afternoon without Carole saying a word about Molly. I was grateful for that.
At about six o'clock she came into my office, "I'm off now. Chris, if you'd like to come back to my place you'd be most welcome. It's only going to be fish pie, it's one of Rick's favourites....."
I looked at my watch, "That's very kind, Carole. Thank you. But, in less than an hour, I've got to be at my ex-father-in-law's. Apparently he's got some more ****** secrets that he wants me to know. As if I didn't have enough problems. But then I'm taking my mother and step-father out to dinner...."
"Your mother!? I thought she was in Australia..."
"She was. But she secretly came all the way here, so that she could enjoy yesterday's little festivities. In fact she played a part in it...."
She stepped up to my desk and reached for my hand. She gave it a gently squeeze, "Look after yourself, Chris." She smiled and then turned and left.
At seven o'clock I was knocking at Ralph and Susan's. Len opened the door, "Ralph's in the sitting room. He's waiting for you."
Ralph was sitting in an easy chair, he looked up at me as I came in. I knew he was sixty two or sixty three, he looked to be in his seventies. He smiled, "Would you like a drink, Chris?"
"No thanks. I'll be drinking at dinner."
"You don't mind if I have one. I could do with it."
I watched him as he poured himself a small brandy and ginger. As he sat down again, he looked at me, "Tell me Chris, did Susan come and see you about a week after you'd actually issued the divorce petition?"
"No. As far as I know, she didn't try. I didn't have any message that she wanted to see me. Why?"
He sighed, "That's what I guessed." He paused, "I knew, I always knew that Molly regretted her little dalliance with Peter. I kept telling her that she had to go and see you, to talk to you. I think she was just feeling too guilty, too scared to do so. And she'd got hold of the idea that you had to come to her. Anyway, Susan and myself had this pact that we wouldn't interfere, it was very important to Susan. She said our role was to look after Molly and to see Jamie and Ben through it. She put a lot of time and effort into that."
"I'm grateful for that, Ralph. I really am."
He didn't like my interruption, "Hear me out. Well, one evening I really began to get a bit hot under the collar about someone, anyone, at least trying to talk to you. I said I was going round to see you, then and there. Susan told me not to, that I was too upset to do it. But she promised to go and see you the next day. Well we know now that she didn't. But when I asked, she told me she had seen you. That you'd rejected any approach, that Molly had been unfaithful and that was that."
"She never saw me."
"Now I know that. Since that Sunday, when we talked down in the shed, I've realised that Susan actively worked to see you and Molly break up. I don't know the whole story, I doubt whether we ever will, but she's lied to me on several occasions, and she's made things happen or not happen that suited her cause."
I sat back in my chair, and sighed, "Wow!" I looked at him, "You really do believe that, don't you?"
"Sadly, Yes. When you told me how upset you were that night when I brought Molly down to see you... And I can't tell you how angry Susan was with me that I did that. It was the only night in over thirty years of marriage that we chose to sleep in separate bedrooms. Anyway, once you'd told me and I went in I was so angry with Molly, and I started to rant and rave. But then somehow it didn't fit, that you were so upset that night, when you'd been so deaf to Susan's entreaties only a few weeks before." He looked up at me, "Well, I know when my wife is guilty. It shows in her eyes. So then I asked her about Good Friday, that you thought she had lied. That got to her, she was guilty about that as well, but when I pushed her she suddenly broke out as to how she had to bring Peter and Molly back together, before you and Molly got together. She was really scared that you might come back into the picture."
"You told me that she was scared of me."
"I hadn't realised how much. Well, after that I lost my temper, I think you saw me. And I began to ask some very awkward questions. Now I believe that she did all in her power to make the rift between you and Molly permanent, and then to push Molly and Peter together."
I sat quietly for a moment, just thinking about that and all its ramifications, "You're saying she did her best to not only split up Molly and me, but to break up her own grandsons' home. And talk Molly into marrying a man she didn't love. That's horrible. What sort of mother is she?"
"Oh, I think she sees it as building a happy ******. A nice house here in Bristol, and a man who isn't going to go out and conquer the world. Her grandsons just down the road, and she can see them three or four times a week. And when they started getting awkward with Peter, she suggested that they stay here some nights, to give Molly and Peter some time to themselves. Perfect as far as she was concerned."
"So what happened?"
"Well we had an almighty row on that Sunday night. Followed by an icy calm and harsh words on the Monday. The only break I took was that I phoned your mother in Melbourne. I told her that I just had to get you and Molly together. Anyway, as far as Susan was concerned, I said I wanted her to go away for a bit. Not only was I pleased to see the back of her, I've never been so disgusted with her in all our married life, I was beyond anger. But I also wanted her out of the way, I didn't want her using underhand tactics if I was going to try to get you and Molly together. Eventually, I got her to go down to her sister's in Weymouth. Maybe the sea air will help her think about what she's done."
"Did you talk to Molly?"
"Not about this, not then. I intended to. I went around there, after Susan had left, on the Wednesday evening. I had to explain her mother's absence, after all. But I started with really laying into her for not talking to you on that night that I brought her to see you. I told you, I reduced her to tears, and I still kept going. But whilst she was all raw emotion, I suddenly asked her if she still loved you. She had tears running down her face from me shouting at her, but she said, 'More than you can ever imagine', but that you were never to know. You had every reason to hate her and probably did. That you had your own life now, and she had no right to interfere. That you must never know. She made me promise never to tell you. She did admit that she had thought about it, that she'd beg you to take her back, now that you were back in Bristol, but after the Easter Monday episode she'd decided against it. It was her fault she'd lost you through her own mistakes, and she could never have you back."
"So what happened?"
"Well she was far too upset for me to launch an attack on her mother. So I left and came to see you. To beg you to go and see her." He tried to smile, "But you were as scared as she was. That's why your mother and I cooked up yesterday's little charade."
"But you've seen Molly today?"
"Yes, I went round to see her early this afternoon. I told her what I suspected of Susan's games. Of course Molly was horrified and said I must be mistaken. But I told her of the two or three times that I know or am pretty sure that Susan lied to me. Eventually, I think I got her re-appraising Susan and what she did and said."
"Poor Molly." was all I could say, "To have to think that of your own mother."
For a moment, Ralph looked at me, very straight in the eyes, "I really am so sorry Chris. I feel guilty. A man should know what's going on under his own roof. He should know what his wife is doing, especially about ******. I really am so sorry that I let you down. It seems that me, my wife, my ********, we're all good at that." He sighed again.
"I don't know what to say, Ralph, except, maybe I'm just sorry for you." I paused and looked at my watch, "I guess I'd better go. Mum and Len will be waiting. Do they know about all this?"
"Yes, I told them. There's no point in keeping secrets."
"You and Susan? You'll be alright, won't you? We don't need another broken marriage on our hands."
"Oh, we'll pull through. You get used to living with all sorts of things. And you don't even think of breaking up when you've been married as long as we have. Don't worry about that."
I looked at my watch, "Well, I guess I ought to go and find Mum and Len." I looked at him, he seemed an old and broken man, "Are you going to be alright? Why not come with us? Mum and Len won't mind."
"No. I promised Molly that I'd go around there with a Chinese, after she's got the boys to bed. I think I'd like to check that she's OK. You go off and have a good evening."
Once I'd got the three of us in my car, and we'd set out, I had an admission, "I've got to confess, I haven't booked anywhere. I haven't been the brightest spark today. Sorry."
Len's voice came from the back seats, "Maybe you've had other things on your mind."
"Let's go and see if Les Jardins is still there." Mum suggested.
Les Jardins was the height to sophistication to the widow of a railway worker years ago. It was French. In fact it was a cheerful café, with good basic French peasant food, good wines, and a cheerful atmosphere. Myself and Molly had eaten there a couple of times before we were married, but I hadn't any idea whether it was still in business.
So I headed for Les Jardins. Whilst we drove along the inevitable discussion started on Susan. Mum was quite clear, she was a selfish inhuman bitch. I don't think Mum had an ounce of sympathy for a woman scared of losing her ******** and grandsons to an ambitious husband. I think I was just saddened by Susan's behaviour, but I didn't know whether she had done any real damage, except maybe to Ralph. I accepted that she had tried to come between myself and Molly, but whether she was successful depended on Molly and how she felt her actions were coloured by her mother.
Les Jardins was still in business. In fact someone had taken a strategic decision, because it was obvious that they now style themselves as a theme restaurant, with a French peasant theme. And their prices had risen to match. But we got a table and were soon served our drinks.
Mum isn't a person to hold back until the coffee stage on saying what's on her mind. So I wasn't surprised when she looked across the table and started, "What do you think, Chris, about all you've been told in the last couple of days?"
I shrugged, "I guess in some ways, it's good to know the truth. But whether it changes anything..."
"Of course it changes things. You've got an opportunity to get your ****** back. It's what you must do, I know it will be hard, but it's your duty for Jamie and Ben's sake."
That word 'duty' hit me. "It's not my duty to patch up some uneasy truce with Molly just so that Jamie and Ben have their mother and father under one roof. It's better that they live in a happy home with only one parent, or with a step-*** or something, than that Molly and myself pretend we're back together. I don't need a lecture on duty to my sons, Mum."
She looked at me, her eyes closing slightly with steely determination, forged by years of widowhood and being a lone parent. "And you don't know the first thing about being a single mother. Yes it is your duty to provide a loving home for Jamie and Ben, just as it was my duty to provide a loving home for you and Brian when your father died."
"That was different, Mum. *** was killed, and of course that's the worst thing, but he was never unfaithful. You don't have to live with the image of him in the arms of another woman. He didn't turn his back on you and choose someone else."
"No he didn't. But I wish he had. Then, at least maybe I might have had the option that you have now, of being able to take him back." She put her hand out to take hold of Len's hand as it lay on the table, he naturally spread his fingers and they held hands, fingers intertwined, as she went on, "I remember the day he died. Mrs Foxton came in and she cooked yours and Brian's tea, but it was me that read you your bedtime story. I don't know how I could see the words on the page through my tears. The man I loved, the man who was the father of my sons, was lying dead in a mortuary. And that wasn't your fault. You'd lost your Daddy, and you were innocent, and it was my duty, yes Duty, to give you as loving and as normal a life as I could. I wanted to curl up and die but I couldn't, I had a duty to his sons....."
I listened, and I watched her knuckles go white with tension as she gripped Len's hand. She was crushing it.
"...and doing my duty was actually what helped give me my life back. You and Brian had to be looked after. You had to have your laundry done. You had to have your meals cooked. I couldn't just lie in bed and mourn the death of the man I loved. And slowly, very slowly I learnt how to live my new life. It wasn't a life that I would have chosen, but it was all I had. I loved you and Brian, and it was my duty to see it through." She looked at me, a couple of tears running down her cheek, "Now it's your duty to try and give your innocent sons their ****** back."
She sat back in her chair and I saw her relax her grip on Len's hand. He withdrew his hand and quietly flexed it, probably checking that it still worked. There was silence for a long pause, until Len said, "We ought to order."
Somehow we got through the meal. The conversation was strained and limited. I wasn't happy, not at all happy, and there was a big black cloud over us.
I did learn a little of the story of how they decided to join Ralph in his plot to bring myself and Molly together. When Ralph phoned Mum she was very doubtful, but she phoned me to try and find out if I would even consider going back to Molly. Well, because I didn't know what questions she was asking, I didn't answer them very well. So she phoned Brian, and he agreed to come and see me, and make his own judgement.
"You got him to travel hundreds miles just to chat to me. And you mean there is no expert on Wordsworth at Bath University?"
Len smiled, "I'm sure there is. Whether Brian ever actually went to see him or not, we don't know."
Mum intervened, "And Brian apologises for being so rude about Molly. He couldn't think of any other way to get you to really react to the mention of her name."
I smiled, "I guess I fell for it."
"Well you convinced Brian that there was something still there. And he phoned me back. And I phoned Ralph and said we'd catch the next flight."
"You flew all that way just to play your part in yesterday's little game?"
She smiled, "No. It's nice to come back and see you, and to see Brian of course. But it's because we wanted to be here for you, Chris. You face some of the hardest days you're ever going to have to face, so we are here. That's what parents do for their children."
I noted the unspoken implication.
At the end, when it was time to pay, Mum excused herself to go to the Ladies. Len looked at me, and his face softened, "Your mother has strong views. I wouldn't have used the word she used. It isn't your duty, but it is an opportunity, and you're not the sort of man to turn down the opportunity to do the right thing."
"But there's no point, Len. Too much water has passed under the bridge. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube."
"Yes you can if you do it carefully and take your time. And if you need a break, well why not come down to see us in Melbourne. You know there's always a bed there. Bring the boys if you want. And if you just need to remember why you've gone back, then look into Jamie's or Ben's eyes, that'll tell you why you have to try."
I realised that he may have used softer words, but actually he was in full agreement with Mum. Maybe that was why they were happily married. They saw eye to eye on the important things. I'm not sure I had their vision.
In the car heading back to Ralph's, I did find out their immediate plans. They were going to spend the rest of this week in Bristol, looking up old friends and old places. Then they were off to Newcastle to see Brian, Morag and the grandchildren. Then they thought they'd hire a car and do a tour of Scotland. Apparently they were in no rush to get home, and they would always be at the end of a phone for me, and would happily come back whenever I needed them. I got the distinct impression that they were going to stay until they saw me and Molly ensconced in a little cottage with roses around the door, and the boys happily riding their bikes up and down the drive. It could be a long holiday for them.
When we got to Ralph's I guess he heard the car because he came out to greet us. When the initial exchanges were over, I looked at him, "How is she?"
He shrugged, "Like me, getting used to the idea. We had a pleasant supper, and we talked. It is hard for her to know how much of what she thought at that time was guided, helped, by Susan. She doesn't think Susan ever lied to her, but maybe she was seeing Peter on the side to agree tactics. We just don't know."
I shook my head and sighed, "What a nightmare."
"Any idea what you'll do, Chris?"
"None whatsoever, except think about things. But I can't see.... I just don't see how.... It would never work."
"Give it time. And go on talking to her. If nothing else, try becoming friends again."
A thought suddenly hit me, "Do you know how things stand with Peter?"
"Not a clue. You'll have to ask her."
And I immediately decided that that was what I'd do. I got back in my car and headed for Molly's house. It was nearly eleven o'clock and I hoped she would still be up. I had a bit of trouble finding it, but I approached the house quietly. I didn't know whether Peter was there or not, the lights in the garage-gym-guest suite were off, but there were some on upstairs in the main house. I had no idea where Peter was. I was as quiet as I could be, but I had no option but to press the doorbell, hoping that it would ring deep inside the house and not disturb Peter if he was asleep in the guest suite. It didn't, and the door opened on the security chain. Molly peeped out, she saw it was me, and silently opened the door wide and waited for me to enter.
She was dressed in a towelling robe and a pair of towelling mules. She hadn't an ounce of make-up and her hair was straight and pulled back. I guess she was just out of a bath or shower.
"I'm sorry it's late, but I wanted to know something."
"Then I'm glad you came. Do you want a coffee, or a drink or something?"
"An orange juice would be nice."
She led the way to the kitchen, and whilst she poured an orange juice for me, and a glass of milk for herself, I looked round. The room looked emptier than when I'd last seen it.
"It looks barer in here. What's happened?"
"Peter's got the microwave and the television and a few other things. That's all."
We looked at each other as we sipped our drinks, "What happened after I left yesterday?"
"Everyone was very nice. Of course they wanted to know what you'd said. Your mother was the nicest, she made me go through all my story so that she heard it from my own lips, I guess. Until then, she'd been working on Ralph's word. But she said I had to give you time." She smiled forlornly, "As if I had an option."
"Well, don't hold your breath." I instantly responded, but then I thought that that was a cruel thing to say, so I followed it up with some kindness, "You've had a dreadful day, I understand. What do you think of Ralph's theory about Susan?"
She sighed, "Certainly there are parts of it that hold water. I didn't know she'd promised to come and see you when I wouldn't. But she was the one telling me that I had to leave you alone, that you had to make up your own mind. If she told me and Ralph different things, well that shows she was playing at something."
She paused and looked at me, I just waited, "More recently, since Peter and myself have got to the end, she's been a lot more open about wanting to bring him and me back together. But that was reasonable, I guess. She didn't want her ******** to face losing her second husband, she wanted to save the marriage if she could. She didn't make a big secret out of it. Although if she did see Peter on Good Friday without telling anyone, and then she lied about it to Ralph, well that's a different matter. I suppose it also explains the desperate need to go to a concert in Wells on Easter Day. That turned out to be a three hour lecture on what a wonderful husband Peter was, and that you were...I don't know what word she would use, but your job and your ambition got in the way of being a good husband. She also attacked you for deserting the boys, although I'm not sure what she expected you to do when you were based in Holland. Anyway, it was obvious that she'd do anything to stop you and I getting together."
"That doesn't take much deduction. I wondered if that was what she was playing at when she dragged you off to Wells, long before Ralph came up with his ideas."
She shrugged, "If you were to take me back, well I can't promise you a loving mother-in-law."
She sat down on a kitchen stool, and her robe fell open to show a delicious amount of leg. She looked down on it, and then looked up at me, but she didn't adjust the robe.
As she looked at me, she started talking, "What I hate is that, if it's all true, then I don't know how much she influenced me, how much she guided me towards things that were so wrong. I've just had a long hot bath, and I lay there, wondering if I actually know the truth of my own history." She smiled rather sadly, "I remember the first time I ever went out with Peter, after you and I had split. He'd been sending me flowers and cards regularly, and I'd got to the point where I wasn't actually avoiding him. It must have been at about the time we were arguing about custody we were just beginning to argue about the house and money. If he came and sat with me at lunch or in a coffee break, I didn't bother to send him away. I don't think I had the energy. Anyway, he invited me to go to his flat for dinner one evening. Of course I said No."
"But, Susan convinced you?" I asked.
"Basically, Yes. She said it would do me good to put on a nice dress and some make-up and go out for the evening, to not just sit at home and mope. And, of course, she would baby-sit. But I thought I couldn't go back to that flat. It was her that convinced me that it would help me if I faced my demons, that it was a nice flat with a nice man who understood what I was going through, and it was only dinner. I guess some of her ideas made some sense. I was very reluctant, but, as usual with me and Susan, I conceded. It was what happened when I was there that really I've been thinking about. That's where I'm beginning to reassess history."
I wasn't sure that I was going to like this bit, but I still asked, "What happened?"
"Well, I did feel better for getting dressed up. And Peter was very charming and sweet. But, when we had sat down and had our pre-dinner drinks there was a plate of wonderful mixed olives laid out. Well, you know how much I love olives, you got me some when I came to see you when you first came back to Bristol. These were Greek ones with feta cheese and sun dried tomatoes, they were delicious. But, I'm sure I never mentioned to Peter that I loved olives. So was it coincidence or had Susan tipped him off?"
"You'll never know. Sorry."
"But there's more. At the table there was a lovely bunch of sweet peas. Well, what are my favourite flowers?"
"Sweet peas."
"Exactly. And I know, I'm certain that I never told him. You don't say to a man who is sending you bouquets of roses and carnations and lilies that he would have done far better if he'd given you a simple bunch of sweet peas. But, when I said something about them, he told me they were his favourite flower. Coincidence or Susan's advice? And you'll never guess what the meat was."
"At this rate, a veal escalope?"
"Oh, how perceptive you are! Again, apparently it was his favourite. But for pudding it wasn't profiteroles, that would have been too obvious. But it was beautiful little chocolate mousses. Close enough for us to discuss how we both just love chocolate puds. You see, Chris, it was a Chinese water torture, drip, drip, drip, on how Peter and myself were destined for each other."
I didn't say anything, and she looked at me, "You have to remember how totally lost and low I was. You could have told me that black was white and I'd have believed you." She paused, "That was the first time he proposed. It wasn't a 'Molly, please marry me'. It was just when I was saying that we were now fighting over the house and I said it was inevitable that our lovely home would be sold. And he, of course, said how he'd never see me homeless, he'd always provide a home for me and the boys. Again, it was that you were walking away, and he was my rescuer. Drip, drip, drip."
"That was your first date?"
"It wasn't a date in the romantic sense. I think I allowed him to kiss my cheek when I arrived, but maybe my lips as I left. But it was still very chaste. But those drips became a flood over the next few weeks. I'd let him into my life, and for that I will always be ashamed. Well, I hope he really bloody hates veal and chocolate, because I certainly shoved them down his throat for the next four years." And she took a large gulp of milk.
That was the first time I'd heard her say anything against Peter. I liked it. I did wonder if I should tell him my version of Peter's character, but she'd had enough bad news of her mother for today.
Instead, I asked, "So how do things stand between you and Peter?"
She shrugged, "The marriage is over. When he moved into the gym he said he was going to see his solicitor, but I haven't heard anything. I haven't really given it a lot of thought. I've been thinking about you."
She looked up at me, and as she did so, her robe fell even more open. Now one side of the robe had fallen completely away from her lap, which was still completely covered by the overlap side. But one side of her leg, all the way up to her hip, was now open to view. She looked at me quite knowingly.
But then her face changed, she looked at bit sheepish, but didn't move the robe, "I want to say something about yesterday. I want to apologise about undressing and hoping that you'd...that we'd have sex. It was stupid to expect or even hope for that at that time. It's just that.... I want....I've spent four years fantasying about you. And I dream of you and me making love, doing things that I've not only denied Peter but I've denied myself. I'm embarrassed at just how stupid I was yesterday,. And thank you, you were the perfect gentleman."
"Was it only yesterday? It seems days ago.... " I paused, "Anyway, I wasn't such a perfect gentleman. I did notice that you are looking good. I guess that's having a home gym."
"That's Peter's. He does have a bit of an ego, he prides himself on his looks and his charm, and he worked hard to keep his body. As for me, well it was really just healthy good sense, but I always had you in mind, I think I always wondered if I would get a chance to win you back. I knew your last image of me was as a twenty seven year old girl, I'm a thirty one year old woman now." She smiled, "And you'd like me more now than yesterday, I just shaved myself when I was in the bath. The first time in over three years. And it felt very good."
"Completely?"
"No. Just as I used to be, maybe a little bit less, but not much. D'you want to see?"
"I don't think I should. I have no right. And anyway, I've got backache and my legs still ache from cycling too far yesterday. I couldn't do anything tonight, even if I wanted to."
"Ralph said that you went cycling."
There was a long pause, eventually I brought us back to the purpose of my visit, "You should do something about a divorce. It's not fair to you or the boys or even to Peter to let it drag on."
She looked at me for a long time, probably deciding if this was something I was demanding before we went any further. Maybe it was, but I hadn't thought of it like that. I just wanted her rid of that man.
Eventually, she said, "You're right. I'll try getting to a solicitor tomorrow. I'll use the same one I used for us. She seemed OK. I'll phone her in the morning."
"Good." was all I said because I didn't think it was the right time to tell her how I wanted to see her grind that man into the ground with the toughest, messiest divorce ever. So I changed the subject, "So, next question: What am I going to get Jamie for his birthday?"
"I'd tell you if I knew what I was going to get him myself. All he ever says he wants is a puppy, and now isn't the time to be buying puppies. And he wants his own phone, but I'm sorry, at nine years old he doesn't need it and he'd probably lose it within the first week."
"How about a Playstation or Wii?"
"Well, I've avoided them up until now, but maybe I've got to admit defeat. It's just that I'd have to keep my eye on what games they played and for how long."
"OK, I'll try to think of something else, but I'll keep them as first reserve if I get desperate."
"OK, I suppose. But do your best, please. It's a rough time for both of them, and I don't want to have to be the hard mother...."
I was tempted...but I didn't! Instead, I moved towards the door, saying, "I must be going."
"You don't have to. Please, Chris, couldn't you stay, we don't have to do anything. Please?"
I looked at her, "I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that we... that somehow it all just goes back together. It doesn't. And in your heart you know it."
She looked at me for a long time, and then she said, quite quietly, "As I said to your mother, I've no option but to wait. And I will wait. I love you, Chris. I just need a chance to show it.."
I kissed her on the cheek and let myself out, very quietly. I still wasn't sure whether Peter was asleep just the other side of window I was passing.
The next morning Carole brought me a coffee and the big diary.
"Thanks." Was all I said.
"You're in Exeter all day tomorrow. Anything you want me to do in your absence?"
"I should be back here by about four, and I can't think of anything that you don't know about....Oh, Yes, can you ask Piers McBaine to call in the next time he's over here? Nothing urgent, but I heard a rumour that Peter Davies isn't working too well at the moment. I thought I ought to pass it on."
She made a note on her pad, and then she looked at me, "Do you know, you haven't got anything booked for lunch today? And do you know, I'm not doing anything for lunch either?"
I looked at her for a long pause, "I'm not going to get away with it, am I?"
Carole looked straight into my eyes, and her eyes were sympathetic, "Yes you can. If you want to get away with it, then I won't press you. But if you'd like to talk...."
I thought about it for quite a long pause, then I smiled, "OK. Get the canteen to send up a tray for two. It might do me some good to try and put it into some form of logical order. It's all going around and around in my head, and every one I talk to about it already knows the story, so I haven't actually worked through it as one whole story."
And that's what we did. Sitting in my office, I talked and Carole listened. It took me almost an hour to get through the whole thing. Carole only asked questions when she didn't understand and she made no comment.
At the end, I paused. "Well, you must admit that's as good as any of your soap operas."
She ignored that, "What are you going to do?"
"I hoped that you'd tell me."
"I can understand why you need some time to think it all through. For every thought I have there is an equal and opposite thought in the other direction. That Susan's a piece of work though, isn't she?"
"Well, the real question is: How much did she actually influence Molly. Molly did a terrible thing in marrying Peter, but how much was she sort of brainwashed into doing it?"
"I can't answer that. I can imagine that Susan was driven with selfish maternal instincts. I've felt them myself."
I waited.
"When the twins were sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and still at school, there was a whole bunch of them, girls and boys, and they seemed to use our house as their base. And, of course, they would pair off and have dates. I loved that time, the house was always full of noise and young people. And the girlfriend-boyfriend thing was just young love. Now they're at university, and they bring home serious girlfriends. Young ladies who are going to take my sons away. And if they don't, then another one will come along and do so. It takes all my resolve to welcome those girls into my home, and my first thought is where are they from, where will they take him off to. It would be easy to let those emotions slip into something sick and damaging. I guess that's what she did. But she was so wrong, very wrong. In the end, what she did was hurt her own child, and no mother can be forgiven for doing that."
I listened, I guessed there was some truth in what she said, "I'm sure your twins will marry nice girls, and you'll have a great relationship with them."
She smiled, "Oh, I'm sure they will, and I'm sure I'll love the girls who win their hearts. But I know I will worry, and have to keep an eye on myself at the beginning. It's a whole new relationship to learn, and that can be hard."
We paused and there was a thoughtful silence between us, until Carole summed up, "Susan was wrong, but I don't really know what to say about the rest of it."
"Nor do I." I said, smiling and standing up, "And in the meantime, we have a company to run."
On the Wednesday evening, Molly phoned to say that she'd called the solicitor, but the earliest that she could have an appointment was last thing on Thursday afternoon. And she told me, that as Jamie's birthday was on Tuesday, and Mum and Len were going to be up in Newcastle with Brian by then, it had been decided to give him a ****** birthday tea at Susan and Ralph's house on Friday afternoon. I told her I wouldn't be able to make it in the afternoon, but she seemed OK with that, and I agreed to get there as soon as I could after work.
On Thursday I had a good morning down in Exeter. That place still impressed me, and over a working lunch with Stephen Hobbs, he was telling me of the business they had had to turn down from old clients after the takeover by TDF. As I'd predicted to Carole, I was back in my own office by four.
At about five o'clock Piers came through my office door, "Ta-Raaaa!" He stood just inside my office with his hands held high in triumph.
I was sitting in my comfortable easy chair, reading some papers, and I just looked at him.
"You are looking at the greatest grandfather ever of the greatest grandson ever!"
"Congratulations! What's his name and congratulations to Jeanette and Ester."
He made his face fall, but he couldn't keep the smile off it really, "Edward. Of all bloody names. I ask you? Edward!"
"Edward's not bad. Ed, Teddy, Eddy. No, it's OK. More than OK. What's wrong with it?"
"Longshanks? Edward I? You must have at least seen Braveheart. Now what decent Scot would have his grandson called Edward?"
"I suspect you will survive the scorn and damnation that will fall upon your ******."
He smiled, or more accurately, he continued to smile. He sat down opposite me, "Anyway, you wanted me?"
"Only briefly. A word to the wise and all that. How's Peter working these days?"
"OK. He isn't sparkling, he spends most of his time in his office. I've noticed he isn't particularly sociable, but he's OK as far as work is concerned. Why?"
"I just got whiff of a rumour that some of the team think that he's not playing as much of a part as he should be. That's all. I thought I would pass it on."
Piers sighed. "Bugger!" he looked at me, "OK. I'll have a word. It might be partly my fault. I haven't been too sociable to him lately either. I just feel that he possibly brought some of his problems onto himself. But maybe I should give him a little more of my time to kick him into a bit more action at work."
I smiled, mainly to myself, "I'm pretty certain that he brought it on himself."
"Why? What's happened?"
I glanced at my watch and then at my whisky decanter. I knew he followed my eyes. "I think you'd better see me as a fucking bastard, in fact quite a big fucking bastard to tell you all that. And it's a bit early."
Piers considered things, "What are you doing this evening?"
"Nothing, why?"
"Well, Edward has a very dry head, which needs wetting. And if you've been a fucking bastard.... Well, I know this pub in Bath, surprisingly not far from my flat actually, that has the best range of malt whiskies that I know of around here, and haggis is always on their menu. And Jeanette is up in London, cooing and clucking and practicing being a grandmother. So I'm a bachelor..."
"I shouldn't. I'd like to, but I couldn't do that and drive home."
"Get a taxi."
I called out for Carole and as she came into the room I asked, "Do you think you could book me a car to pick me up at my place at about seven thirty say. And take me to the Doc's place in Bath. And then bring me back at ..." I looked at Piers, "...eleven thirty, say. This evening."
"Of course, think it done. Congratulations, Doctor. Isn't he a bit early?"
Piers turned to Carole, "A couple of weeks, but everything's fine. He just felt like surprising us."
I thought: Carole has a database mind for everyone in this company apparently.
Piers left after that, and I went on reading and making notes.
When Carole was leaving she put her head around my office door, "I'll have the Alka Seltzer ready in the morning."
"I hope it won't be that heavy. But, the way I feel, it might just..."
"It'll do you good. Goodnight. See you in the morning."
As I put the key in my front door all I could think about was having a large whisky. Then I heard a little voice saying: No, don't run to the whisky bottle. Instead I put on a pair of shorts and picked up my cycle helmet.
I cycled and cycled. I found the start of the Bristol-Bath cycle route, and I set out. By the time I got to Bath I was exhausted. I hadn't cycled that far in years, if ever. At first, I had been full of angry energy, now I'd be grateful for any energy. I'm not sure how I managed it, but I turned round and cycled back again. By the time I pushed the bike up the last hill towards home, I guess I'd cycled about thirty five miles, maybe a bit less. I was knackered, my back screamed at me, by thighs just ached, my knees refused to bend anymore, and I had basically no feeling in my legs below my knees. Even my shoulders ached, and what have they got to do with cycling? Shoulders don't put any effort in!
I got into my flat, and I flopped down in a chair. I must have sat there for half and hour, just sitting there. Finally I dragged myself off for the longest, hottest shower of my life.
By now it was getting late. I felt better, and was padding around the flat in my bath robe, when my phone rang. It was Len.
"Hello, Chris. I thought I'd give you a call. Are you OK?"
"I went for a cycle ride. God only knows what made me do it, but I've just cycled about a hundred miles more than I should. I never knew what knackered meant until now."
He laughed, "Well, you sound alright."
"What's happening at your end?"
"Oh, your mother and Ralph took Molly and the two boys back to their house. I think Ralph was to look after Molly, and your mother wasn't objecting to looking after the boys. She's just phoned me to say that they're on their way back, and now she's starting to worry about you. That's why I phoned, so that I can put her mind to rest when she gets here."
"Well, tell her I'm OK. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what to think or do. She threw a hell of a lot at me this afternoon, Len. I don't think I've thought it all through yet."
"Well take your time. Ralph said he tried to warn you that he was sure Molly was going to ask you to do the hardest thing you've probably ever done in your life, only he knows you misunderstood him."
I laughed, "Well I wasn't expecting this one."
"I'm sure a lot of well meaning people will want to know what you're going to do. They expect you to instantly make up your mind. Tell them to bugger off, take your time, and come to the right answer in your own time."
"Well, I'm going to have a whisky and go to bed soon."
"Make sure it's only one. I suspect you found too much friendship in a whisky bottle when all this started, years ago. I don't blame you, it's just that there are better ways."
"That's why I went cycling, so now my drug of choice is ibuprofen to stop the aches and pains."
Len laughed, "See you tomorrow evening, Chris. I'll look forward to it."
He was right, a cup of coffee and a couple of ibuprofen would be better than a whisky.
I sat in my chair, and considered what Molly had told me, and what I thought of it all. I think I was still reacting, I'm knew I still hadn't thought it all through. But, I had come to some conclusions. I was convinced that what she told me was the truth, or at least the truth as she saw it.
Somehow, I could vaguely accept that it explained the divorce. I was part of that, I divorced her after all. And I could see how I got trapped into my belief, into the misunderstanding of the facts. I knew how hurt I was, how angry I was, maybe how unreasonable I was. I could see how the divorce happened. But she should have come to me, or Ralph or someone should have said something. But no one did.
I had real difficulty in accepting that she went off and married Peter. She knew she didn't love him. OK, people do make mistakes, especially on the rebound. Especially when depressed or shocked or whatever her mental state was. But to do something downright stupid and wrong... well that isn't the Molly I thought I knew. And it is someone who I didn't like very much.
And then there was the big one, could we put it all back together? And I hadn't the faintest idea about that one. My inclination was to say No. But was that good sense or cowardice? I didn't know the answer to that either.
I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I guess physical exhaustion has something in its favour.
I woke up the next morning to a little routine that I have practiced so often in my life. I sit on the edge of the bed, and I promise: Never Again. Usually it is never to drink that much again, occasionally it has been never to treat some woman that badly again, this time it was never ever to cycle that far again without getting myself fully fit first.
My legs ached, my back ached, but far more important than that was that my arse was so bloody sore. At the end of a hot shower, which eased my muscles but stung my butt, I could stand upright and even walk at a world shattering pace of about ten miles per century, but my arse just hurt. Eventually I found a half used bottle of after-sun cream, which was the nearest thing I had to any skin cream, and I salved my cheeks with that. It helped.
I cautiously walked through Carole's office, with a surly "Morning." from me.
As I walked to my desk, she followed me, "What happened to you? You didn't meet Peter Davies in that dark alley did you?"
I knew she was joking, but there was an element of truth in it. I smiled to myself, grimly.
"I went for a cycle ride, and I shouldn't have."
"Jamie and Ben too fit for you?"
"I was by myself, and I cycled to Bath and back as a one off. And I don't think I've ever cycled that far and certainly not for years."
She paused thinking about that, "That must be over thirty miles. What in the world made you do a thing like that?"
"Nothing. It seemed a good idea at the time."
"Rubbish. Was this the macho ***, proving something to his sons? Something like that?"
Very quickly I was becoming tired of this conversation and the direction it could take. I tried to move it along, "I don't feel too good today. Any chance we can make sure I have a fairly light day?"
"I'll check the diary. It wasn't going to be too bad anyway. I think you were going to sit here and let a parade of people come and see you." Again she paused, "So what made you do it? You didn't suddenly decide to torture every muscle in your body. Look at you, you can hardly walk. What made you do it, Chris?"
"Nothing. I had some things to think about, that's all."
"Think about what?"
"Think about whether I should sack an over inquisitive secretary. Can we talk about my diary?"
That seemed to close the conversation, and with only one meeting postponed, I expected to get through the day without leaving my office.
I did ask Carole to phone the estate agent for the flat I'd fancied. I'd told the agent on Sunday that I would take it, but now she needed all the details of bank references and personal details for the lease.
Carole looked pleased.
I was suspicious, "Why are you smiling?"
"Two reasons. I thought that was the nicest flat, the one I would have taken if I were you. But also, the agent, she's a niece. About twenty five times removed, but we are related. I told you I had a huge ******, and they pop up at surprising moments."
"Well you can also ask her if she knows of someone who can do my cleaning, and better still, do my laundry as well."
By lunchtime I was feeling better, and I went down to the canteen. The sight of the MD queuing for his lunch and sitting with a bunch of juniors was no longer something to whisper about. I sat with a bunch from IT. Sod's law played, one of them happened to be a very keen cyclist. Half and hour of advice on what I did wrong was not what I needed.
As I came back to my office, Myra was there, talking to Carole. I only caught one phrase from Myra as I approached the open door, "I can try and have a word with him, if you think it will help. He might talk to ....". No prizes for guessing what that was about.
I closed Carole's outer door and turned and looked at them, "My ex-wife of four years chose yesterday to tell me that she'd never loved Peter Davies. That she loved me, only me, and she still does. OK?"
I just kept on walking to my desk, as I turned to sit on the far side, I realised that they had both followed me into my office and were standing in the middle of the room, just looking at me.
"And I'm not going to talk about it. Not now, not until I've grasped it all and vaguely feel that I might understand it. So can we get some work done, please?"
Myra had the good grace to step backwards, and to leave. Carole just stood there looking at me. Suddenly her face softened, "Shit happens!" she announced, and then she too left.
We got through the afternoon without Carole saying a word about Molly. I was grateful for that.
At about six o'clock she came into my office, "I'm off now. Chris, if you'd like to come back to my place you'd be most welcome. It's only going to be fish pie, it's one of Rick's favourites....."
I looked at my watch, "That's very kind, Carole. Thank you. But, in less than an hour, I've got to be at my ex-father-in-law's. Apparently he's got some more ****** secrets that he wants me to know. As if I didn't have enough problems. But then I'm taking my mother and step-father out to dinner...."
"Your mother!? I thought she was in Australia..."
"She was. But she secretly came all the way here, so that she could enjoy yesterday's little festivities. In fact she played a part in it...."
She stepped up to my desk and reached for my hand. She gave it a gently squeeze, "Look after yourself, Chris." She smiled and then turned and left.
At seven o'clock I was knocking at Ralph and Susan's. Len opened the door, "Ralph's in the sitting room. He's waiting for you."
Ralph was sitting in an easy chair, he looked up at me as I came in. I knew he was sixty two or sixty three, he looked to be in his seventies. He smiled, "Would you like a drink, Chris?"
"No thanks. I'll be drinking at dinner."
"You don't mind if I have one. I could do with it."
I watched him as he poured himself a small brandy and ginger. As he sat down again, he looked at me, "Tell me Chris, did Susan come and see you about a week after you'd actually issued the divorce petition?"
"No. As far as I know, she didn't try. I didn't have any message that she wanted to see me. Why?"
He sighed, "That's what I guessed." He paused, "I knew, I always knew that Molly regretted her little dalliance with Peter. I kept telling her that she had to go and see you, to talk to you. I think she was just feeling too guilty, too scared to do so. And she'd got hold of the idea that you had to come to her. Anyway, Susan and myself had this pact that we wouldn't interfere, it was very important to Susan. She said our role was to look after Molly and to see Jamie and Ben through it. She put a lot of time and effort into that."
"I'm grateful for that, Ralph. I really am."
He didn't like my interruption, "Hear me out. Well, one evening I really began to get a bit hot under the collar about someone, anyone, at least trying to talk to you. I said I was going round to see you, then and there. Susan told me not to, that I was too upset to do it. But she promised to go and see you the next day. Well we know now that she didn't. But when I asked, she told me she had seen you. That you'd rejected any approach, that Molly had been unfaithful and that was that."
"She never saw me."
"Now I know that. Since that Sunday, when we talked down in the shed, I've realised that Susan actively worked to see you and Molly break up. I don't know the whole story, I doubt whether we ever will, but she's lied to me on several occasions, and she's made things happen or not happen that suited her cause."
I sat back in my chair, and sighed, "Wow!" I looked at him, "You really do believe that, don't you?"
"Sadly, Yes. When you told me how upset you were that night when I brought Molly down to see you... And I can't tell you how angry Susan was with me that I did that. It was the only night in over thirty years of marriage that we chose to sleep in separate bedrooms. Anyway, once you'd told me and I went in I was so angry with Molly, and I started to rant and rave. But then somehow it didn't fit, that you were so upset that night, when you'd been so deaf to Susan's entreaties only a few weeks before." He looked up at me, "Well, I know when my wife is guilty. It shows in her eyes. So then I asked her about Good Friday, that you thought she had lied. That got to her, she was guilty about that as well, but when I pushed her she suddenly broke out as to how she had to bring Peter and Molly back together, before you and Molly got together. She was really scared that you might come back into the picture."
"You told me that she was scared of me."
"I hadn't realised how much. Well, after that I lost my temper, I think you saw me. And I began to ask some very awkward questions. Now I believe that she did all in her power to make the rift between you and Molly permanent, and then to push Molly and Peter together."
I sat quietly for a moment, just thinking about that and all its ramifications, "You're saying she did her best to not only split up Molly and me, but to break up her own grandsons' home. And talk Molly into marrying a man she didn't love. That's horrible. What sort of mother is she?"
"Oh, I think she sees it as building a happy ******. A nice house here in Bristol, and a man who isn't going to go out and conquer the world. Her grandsons just down the road, and she can see them three or four times a week. And when they started getting awkward with Peter, she suggested that they stay here some nights, to give Molly and Peter some time to themselves. Perfect as far as she was concerned."
"So what happened?"
"Well we had an almighty row on that Sunday night. Followed by an icy calm and harsh words on the Monday. The only break I took was that I phoned your mother in Melbourne. I told her that I just had to get you and Molly together. Anyway, as far as Susan was concerned, I said I wanted her to go away for a bit. Not only was I pleased to see the back of her, I've never been so disgusted with her in all our married life, I was beyond anger. But I also wanted her out of the way, I didn't want her using underhand tactics if I was going to try to get you and Molly together. Eventually, I got her to go down to her sister's in Weymouth. Maybe the sea air will help her think about what she's done."
"Did you talk to Molly?"
"Not about this, not then. I intended to. I went around there, after Susan had left, on the Wednesday evening. I had to explain her mother's absence, after all. But I started with really laying into her for not talking to you on that night that I brought her to see you. I told you, I reduced her to tears, and I still kept going. But whilst she was all raw emotion, I suddenly asked her if she still loved you. She had tears running down her face from me shouting at her, but she said, 'More than you can ever imagine', but that you were never to know. You had every reason to hate her and probably did. That you had your own life now, and she had no right to interfere. That you must never know. She made me promise never to tell you. She did admit that she had thought about it, that she'd beg you to take her back, now that you were back in Bristol, but after the Easter Monday episode she'd decided against it. It was her fault she'd lost you through her own mistakes, and she could never have you back."
"So what happened?"
"Well she was far too upset for me to launch an attack on her mother. So I left and came to see you. To beg you to go and see her." He tried to smile, "But you were as scared as she was. That's why your mother and I cooked up yesterday's little charade."
"But you've seen Molly today?"
"Yes, I went round to see her early this afternoon. I told her what I suspected of Susan's games. Of course Molly was horrified and said I must be mistaken. But I told her of the two or three times that I know or am pretty sure that Susan lied to me. Eventually, I think I got her re-appraising Susan and what she did and said."
"Poor Molly." was all I could say, "To have to think that of your own mother."
For a moment, Ralph looked at me, very straight in the eyes, "I really am so sorry Chris. I feel guilty. A man should know what's going on under his own roof. He should know what his wife is doing, especially about ******. I really am so sorry that I let you down. It seems that me, my wife, my ********, we're all good at that." He sighed again.
"I don't know what to say, Ralph, except, maybe I'm just sorry for you." I paused and looked at my watch, "I guess I'd better go. Mum and Len will be waiting. Do they know about all this?"
"Yes, I told them. There's no point in keeping secrets."
"You and Susan? You'll be alright, won't you? We don't need another broken marriage on our hands."
"Oh, we'll pull through. You get used to living with all sorts of things. And you don't even think of breaking up when you've been married as long as we have. Don't worry about that."
I looked at my watch, "Well, I guess I ought to go and find Mum and Len." I looked at him, he seemed an old and broken man, "Are you going to be alright? Why not come with us? Mum and Len won't mind."
"No. I promised Molly that I'd go around there with a Chinese, after she's got the boys to bed. I think I'd like to check that she's OK. You go off and have a good evening."
Once I'd got the three of us in my car, and we'd set out, I had an admission, "I've got to confess, I haven't booked anywhere. I haven't been the brightest spark today. Sorry."
Len's voice came from the back seats, "Maybe you've had other things on your mind."
"Let's go and see if Les Jardins is still there." Mum suggested.
Les Jardins was the height to sophistication to the widow of a railway worker years ago. It was French. In fact it was a cheerful café, with good basic French peasant food, good wines, and a cheerful atmosphere. Myself and Molly had eaten there a couple of times before we were married, but I hadn't any idea whether it was still in business.
So I headed for Les Jardins. Whilst we drove along the inevitable discussion started on Susan. Mum was quite clear, she was a selfish inhuman bitch. I don't think Mum had an ounce of sympathy for a woman scared of losing her ******** and grandsons to an ambitious husband. I think I was just saddened by Susan's behaviour, but I didn't know whether she had done any real damage, except maybe to Ralph. I accepted that she had tried to come between myself and Molly, but whether she was successful depended on Molly and how she felt her actions were coloured by her mother.
Les Jardins was still in business. In fact someone had taken a strategic decision, because it was obvious that they now style themselves as a theme restaurant, with a French peasant theme. And their prices had risen to match. But we got a table and were soon served our drinks.
Mum isn't a person to hold back until the coffee stage on saying what's on her mind. So I wasn't surprised when she looked across the table and started, "What do you think, Chris, about all you've been told in the last couple of days?"
I shrugged, "I guess in some ways, it's good to know the truth. But whether it changes anything..."
"Of course it changes things. You've got an opportunity to get your ****** back. It's what you must do, I know it will be hard, but it's your duty for Jamie and Ben's sake."
That word 'duty' hit me. "It's not my duty to patch up some uneasy truce with Molly just so that Jamie and Ben have their mother and father under one roof. It's better that they live in a happy home with only one parent, or with a step-*** or something, than that Molly and myself pretend we're back together. I don't need a lecture on duty to my sons, Mum."
She looked at me, her eyes closing slightly with steely determination, forged by years of widowhood and being a lone parent. "And you don't know the first thing about being a single mother. Yes it is your duty to provide a loving home for Jamie and Ben, just as it was my duty to provide a loving home for you and Brian when your father died."
"That was different, Mum. *** was killed, and of course that's the worst thing, but he was never unfaithful. You don't have to live with the image of him in the arms of another woman. He didn't turn his back on you and choose someone else."
"No he didn't. But I wish he had. Then, at least maybe I might have had the option that you have now, of being able to take him back." She put her hand out to take hold of Len's hand as it lay on the table, he naturally spread his fingers and they held hands, fingers intertwined, as she went on, "I remember the day he died. Mrs Foxton came in and she cooked yours and Brian's tea, but it was me that read you your bedtime story. I don't know how I could see the words on the page through my tears. The man I loved, the man who was the father of my sons, was lying dead in a mortuary. And that wasn't your fault. You'd lost your Daddy, and you were innocent, and it was my duty, yes Duty, to give you as loving and as normal a life as I could. I wanted to curl up and die but I couldn't, I had a duty to his sons....."
I listened, and I watched her knuckles go white with tension as she gripped Len's hand. She was crushing it.
"...and doing my duty was actually what helped give me my life back. You and Brian had to be looked after. You had to have your laundry done. You had to have your meals cooked. I couldn't just lie in bed and mourn the death of the man I loved. And slowly, very slowly I learnt how to live my new life. It wasn't a life that I would have chosen, but it was all I had. I loved you and Brian, and it was my duty to see it through." She looked at me, a couple of tears running down her cheek, "Now it's your duty to try and give your innocent sons their ****** back."
She sat back in her chair and I saw her relax her grip on Len's hand. He withdrew his hand and quietly flexed it, probably checking that it still worked. There was silence for a long pause, until Len said, "We ought to order."
Somehow we got through the meal. The conversation was strained and limited. I wasn't happy, not at all happy, and there was a big black cloud over us.
I did learn a little of the story of how they decided to join Ralph in his plot to bring myself and Molly together. When Ralph phoned Mum she was very doubtful, but she phoned me to try and find out if I would even consider going back to Molly. Well, because I didn't know what questions she was asking, I didn't answer them very well. So she phoned Brian, and he agreed to come and see me, and make his own judgement.
"You got him to travel hundreds miles just to chat to me. And you mean there is no expert on Wordsworth at Bath University?"
Len smiled, "I'm sure there is. Whether Brian ever actually went to see him or not, we don't know."
Mum intervened, "And Brian apologises for being so rude about Molly. He couldn't think of any other way to get you to really react to the mention of her name."
I smiled, "I guess I fell for it."
"Well you convinced Brian that there was something still there. And he phoned me back. And I phoned Ralph and said we'd catch the next flight."
"You flew all that way just to play your part in yesterday's little game?"
She smiled, "No. It's nice to come back and see you, and to see Brian of course. But it's because we wanted to be here for you, Chris. You face some of the hardest days you're ever going to have to face, so we are here. That's what parents do for their children."
I noted the unspoken implication.
At the end, when it was time to pay, Mum excused herself to go to the Ladies. Len looked at me, and his face softened, "Your mother has strong views. I wouldn't have used the word she used. It isn't your duty, but it is an opportunity, and you're not the sort of man to turn down the opportunity to do the right thing."
"But there's no point, Len. Too much water has passed under the bridge. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube."
"Yes you can if you do it carefully and take your time. And if you need a break, well why not come down to see us in Melbourne. You know there's always a bed there. Bring the boys if you want. And if you just need to remember why you've gone back, then look into Jamie's or Ben's eyes, that'll tell you why you have to try."
I realised that he may have used softer words, but actually he was in full agreement with Mum. Maybe that was why they were happily married. They saw eye to eye on the important things. I'm not sure I had their vision.
In the car heading back to Ralph's, I did find out their immediate plans. They were going to spend the rest of this week in Bristol, looking up old friends and old places. Then they were off to Newcastle to see Brian, Morag and the grandchildren. Then they thought they'd hire a car and do a tour of Scotland. Apparently they were in no rush to get home, and they would always be at the end of a phone for me, and would happily come back whenever I needed them. I got the distinct impression that they were going to stay until they saw me and Molly ensconced in a little cottage with roses around the door, and the boys happily riding their bikes up and down the drive. It could be a long holiday for them.
When we got to Ralph's I guess he heard the car because he came out to greet us. When the initial exchanges were over, I looked at him, "How is she?"
He shrugged, "Like me, getting used to the idea. We had a pleasant supper, and we talked. It is hard for her to know how much of what she thought at that time was guided, helped, by Susan. She doesn't think Susan ever lied to her, but maybe she was seeing Peter on the side to agree tactics. We just don't know."
I shook my head and sighed, "What a nightmare."
"Any idea what you'll do, Chris?"
"None whatsoever, except think about things. But I can't see.... I just don't see how.... It would never work."
"Give it time. And go on talking to her. If nothing else, try becoming friends again."
A thought suddenly hit me, "Do you know how things stand with Peter?"
"Not a clue. You'll have to ask her."
And I immediately decided that that was what I'd do. I got back in my car and headed for Molly's house. It was nearly eleven o'clock and I hoped she would still be up. I had a bit of trouble finding it, but I approached the house quietly. I didn't know whether Peter was there or not, the lights in the garage-gym-guest suite were off, but there were some on upstairs in the main house. I had no idea where Peter was. I was as quiet as I could be, but I had no option but to press the doorbell, hoping that it would ring deep inside the house and not disturb Peter if he was asleep in the guest suite. It didn't, and the door opened on the security chain. Molly peeped out, she saw it was me, and silently opened the door wide and waited for me to enter.
She was dressed in a towelling robe and a pair of towelling mules. She hadn't an ounce of make-up and her hair was straight and pulled back. I guess she was just out of a bath or shower.
"I'm sorry it's late, but I wanted to know something."
"Then I'm glad you came. Do you want a coffee, or a drink or something?"
"An orange juice would be nice."
She led the way to the kitchen, and whilst she poured an orange juice for me, and a glass of milk for herself, I looked round. The room looked emptier than when I'd last seen it.
"It looks barer in here. What's happened?"
"Peter's got the microwave and the television and a few other things. That's all."
We looked at each other as we sipped our drinks, "What happened after I left yesterday?"
"Everyone was very nice. Of course they wanted to know what you'd said. Your mother was the nicest, she made me go through all my story so that she heard it from my own lips, I guess. Until then, she'd been working on Ralph's word. But she said I had to give you time." She smiled forlornly, "As if I had an option."
"Well, don't hold your breath." I instantly responded, but then I thought that that was a cruel thing to say, so I followed it up with some kindness, "You've had a dreadful day, I understand. What do you think of Ralph's theory about Susan?"
She sighed, "Certainly there are parts of it that hold water. I didn't know she'd promised to come and see you when I wouldn't. But she was the one telling me that I had to leave you alone, that you had to make up your own mind. If she told me and Ralph different things, well that shows she was playing at something."
She paused and looked at me, I just waited, "More recently, since Peter and myself have got to the end, she's been a lot more open about wanting to bring him and me back together. But that was reasonable, I guess. She didn't want her ******** to face losing her second husband, she wanted to save the marriage if she could. She didn't make a big secret out of it. Although if she did see Peter on Good Friday without telling anyone, and then she lied about it to Ralph, well that's a different matter. I suppose it also explains the desperate need to go to a concert in Wells on Easter Day. That turned out to be a three hour lecture on what a wonderful husband Peter was, and that you were...I don't know what word she would use, but your job and your ambition got in the way of being a good husband. She also attacked you for deserting the boys, although I'm not sure what she expected you to do when you were based in Holland. Anyway, it was obvious that she'd do anything to stop you and I getting together."
"That doesn't take much deduction. I wondered if that was what she was playing at when she dragged you off to Wells, long before Ralph came up with his ideas."
She shrugged, "If you were to take me back, well I can't promise you a loving mother-in-law."
She sat down on a kitchen stool, and her robe fell open to show a delicious amount of leg. She looked down on it, and then looked up at me, but she didn't adjust the robe.
As she looked at me, she started talking, "What I hate is that, if it's all true, then I don't know how much she influenced me, how much she guided me towards things that were so wrong. I've just had a long hot bath, and I lay there, wondering if I actually know the truth of my own history." She smiled rather sadly, "I remember the first time I ever went out with Peter, after you and I had split. He'd been sending me flowers and cards regularly, and I'd got to the point where I wasn't actually avoiding him. It must have been at about the time we were arguing about custody we were just beginning to argue about the house and money. If he came and sat with me at lunch or in a coffee break, I didn't bother to send him away. I don't think I had the energy. Anyway, he invited me to go to his flat for dinner one evening. Of course I said No."
"But, Susan convinced you?" I asked.
"Basically, Yes. She said it would do me good to put on a nice dress and some make-up and go out for the evening, to not just sit at home and mope. And, of course, she would baby-sit. But I thought I couldn't go back to that flat. It was her that convinced me that it would help me if I faced my demons, that it was a nice flat with a nice man who understood what I was going through, and it was only dinner. I guess some of her ideas made some sense. I was very reluctant, but, as usual with me and Susan, I conceded. It was what happened when I was there that really I've been thinking about. That's where I'm beginning to reassess history."
I wasn't sure that I was going to like this bit, but I still asked, "What happened?"
"Well, I did feel better for getting dressed up. And Peter was very charming and sweet. But, when we had sat down and had our pre-dinner drinks there was a plate of wonderful mixed olives laid out. Well, you know how much I love olives, you got me some when I came to see you when you first came back to Bristol. These were Greek ones with feta cheese and sun dried tomatoes, they were delicious. But, I'm sure I never mentioned to Peter that I loved olives. So was it coincidence or had Susan tipped him off?"
"You'll never know. Sorry."
"But there's more. At the table there was a lovely bunch of sweet peas. Well, what are my favourite flowers?"
"Sweet peas."
"Exactly. And I know, I'm certain that I never told him. You don't say to a man who is sending you bouquets of roses and carnations and lilies that he would have done far better if he'd given you a simple bunch of sweet peas. But, when I said something about them, he told me they were his favourite flower. Coincidence or Susan's advice? And you'll never guess what the meat was."
"At this rate, a veal escalope?"
"Oh, how perceptive you are! Again, apparently it was his favourite. But for pudding it wasn't profiteroles, that would have been too obvious. But it was beautiful little chocolate mousses. Close enough for us to discuss how we both just love chocolate puds. You see, Chris, it was a Chinese water torture, drip, drip, drip, on how Peter and myself were destined for each other."
I didn't say anything, and she looked at me, "You have to remember how totally lost and low I was. You could have told me that black was white and I'd have believed you." She paused, "That was the first time he proposed. It wasn't a 'Molly, please marry me'. It was just when I was saying that we were now fighting over the house and I said it was inevitable that our lovely home would be sold. And he, of course, said how he'd never see me homeless, he'd always provide a home for me and the boys. Again, it was that you were walking away, and he was my rescuer. Drip, drip, drip."
"That was your first date?"
"It wasn't a date in the romantic sense. I think I allowed him to kiss my cheek when I arrived, but maybe my lips as I left. But it was still very chaste. But those drips became a flood over the next few weeks. I'd let him into my life, and for that I will always be ashamed. Well, I hope he really bloody hates veal and chocolate, because I certainly shoved them down his throat for the next four years." And she took a large gulp of milk.
That was the first time I'd heard her say anything against Peter. I liked it. I did wonder if I should tell him my version of Peter's character, but she'd had enough bad news of her mother for today.
Instead, I asked, "So how do things stand between you and Peter?"
She shrugged, "The marriage is over. When he moved into the gym he said he was going to see his solicitor, but I haven't heard anything. I haven't really given it a lot of thought. I've been thinking about you."
She looked up at me, and as she did so, her robe fell even more open. Now one side of the robe had fallen completely away from her lap, which was still completely covered by the overlap side. But one side of her leg, all the way up to her hip, was now open to view. She looked at me quite knowingly.
But then her face changed, she looked at bit sheepish, but didn't move the robe, "I want to say something about yesterday. I want to apologise about undressing and hoping that you'd...that we'd have sex. It was stupid to expect or even hope for that at that time. It's just that.... I want....I've spent four years fantasying about you. And I dream of you and me making love, doing things that I've not only denied Peter but I've denied myself. I'm embarrassed at just how stupid I was yesterday,. And thank you, you were the perfect gentleman."
"Was it only yesterday? It seems days ago.... " I paused, "Anyway, I wasn't such a perfect gentleman. I did notice that you are looking good. I guess that's having a home gym."
"That's Peter's. He does have a bit of an ego, he prides himself on his looks and his charm, and he worked hard to keep his body. As for me, well it was really just healthy good sense, but I always had you in mind, I think I always wondered if I would get a chance to win you back. I knew your last image of me was as a twenty seven year old girl, I'm a thirty one year old woman now." She smiled, "And you'd like me more now than yesterday, I just shaved myself when I was in the bath. The first time in over three years. And it felt very good."
"Completely?"
"No. Just as I used to be, maybe a little bit less, but not much. D'you want to see?"
"I don't think I should. I have no right. And anyway, I've got backache and my legs still ache from cycling too far yesterday. I couldn't do anything tonight, even if I wanted to."
"Ralph said that you went cycling."
There was a long pause, eventually I brought us back to the purpose of my visit, "You should do something about a divorce. It's not fair to you or the boys or even to Peter to let it drag on."
She looked at me for a long time, probably deciding if this was something I was demanding before we went any further. Maybe it was, but I hadn't thought of it like that. I just wanted her rid of that man.
Eventually, she said, "You're right. I'll try getting to a solicitor tomorrow. I'll use the same one I used for us. She seemed OK. I'll phone her in the morning."
"Good." was all I said because I didn't think it was the right time to tell her how I wanted to see her grind that man into the ground with the toughest, messiest divorce ever. So I changed the subject, "So, next question: What am I going to get Jamie for his birthday?"
"I'd tell you if I knew what I was going to get him myself. All he ever says he wants is a puppy, and now isn't the time to be buying puppies. And he wants his own phone, but I'm sorry, at nine years old he doesn't need it and he'd probably lose it within the first week."
"How about a Playstation or Wii?"
"Well, I've avoided them up until now, but maybe I've got to admit defeat. It's just that I'd have to keep my eye on what games they played and for how long."
"OK, I'll try to think of something else, but I'll keep them as first reserve if I get desperate."
"OK, I suppose. But do your best, please. It's a rough time for both of them, and I don't want to have to be the hard mother...."
I was tempted...but I didn't! Instead, I moved towards the door, saying, "I must be going."
"You don't have to. Please, Chris, couldn't you stay, we don't have to do anything. Please?"
I looked at her, "I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that we... that somehow it all just goes back together. It doesn't. And in your heart you know it."
She looked at me for a long time, and then she said, quite quietly, "As I said to your mother, I've no option but to wait. And I will wait. I love you, Chris. I just need a chance to show it.."
I kissed her on the cheek and let myself out, very quietly. I still wasn't sure whether Peter was asleep just the other side of window I was passing.
The next morning Carole brought me a coffee and the big diary.
"Thanks." Was all I said.
"You're in Exeter all day tomorrow. Anything you want me to do in your absence?"
"I should be back here by about four, and I can't think of anything that you don't know about....Oh, Yes, can you ask Piers McBaine to call in the next time he's over here? Nothing urgent, but I heard a rumour that Peter Davies isn't working too well at the moment. I thought I ought to pass it on."
She made a note on her pad, and then she looked at me, "Do you know, you haven't got anything booked for lunch today? And do you know, I'm not doing anything for lunch either?"
I looked at her for a long pause, "I'm not going to get away with it, am I?"
Carole looked straight into my eyes, and her eyes were sympathetic, "Yes you can. If you want to get away with it, then I won't press you. But if you'd like to talk...."
I thought about it for quite a long pause, then I smiled, "OK. Get the canteen to send up a tray for two. It might do me some good to try and put it into some form of logical order. It's all going around and around in my head, and every one I talk to about it already knows the story, so I haven't actually worked through it as one whole story."
And that's what we did. Sitting in my office, I talked and Carole listened. It took me almost an hour to get through the whole thing. Carole only asked questions when she didn't understand and she made no comment.
At the end, I paused. "Well, you must admit that's as good as any of your soap operas."
She ignored that, "What are you going to do?"
"I hoped that you'd tell me."
"I can understand why you need some time to think it all through. For every thought I have there is an equal and opposite thought in the other direction. That Susan's a piece of work though, isn't she?"
"Well, the real question is: How much did she actually influence Molly. Molly did a terrible thing in marrying Peter, but how much was she sort of brainwashed into doing it?"
"I can't answer that. I can imagine that Susan was driven with selfish maternal instincts. I've felt them myself."
I waited.
"When the twins were sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and still at school, there was a whole bunch of them, girls and boys, and they seemed to use our house as their base. And, of course, they would pair off and have dates. I loved that time, the house was always full of noise and young people. And the girlfriend-boyfriend thing was just young love. Now they're at university, and they bring home serious girlfriends. Young ladies who are going to take my sons away. And if they don't, then another one will come along and do so. It takes all my resolve to welcome those girls into my home, and my first thought is where are they from, where will they take him off to. It would be easy to let those emotions slip into something sick and damaging. I guess that's what she did. But she was so wrong, very wrong. In the end, what she did was hurt her own child, and no mother can be forgiven for doing that."
I listened, I guessed there was some truth in what she said, "I'm sure your twins will marry nice girls, and you'll have a great relationship with them."
She smiled, "Oh, I'm sure they will, and I'm sure I'll love the girls who win their hearts. But I know I will worry, and have to keep an eye on myself at the beginning. It's a whole new relationship to learn, and that can be hard."
We paused and there was a thoughtful silence between us, until Carole summed up, "Susan was wrong, but I don't really know what to say about the rest of it."
"Nor do I." I said, smiling and standing up, "And in the meantime, we have a company to run."
On the Wednesday evening, Molly phoned to say that she'd called the solicitor, but the earliest that she could have an appointment was last thing on Thursday afternoon. And she told me, that as Jamie's birthday was on Tuesday, and Mum and Len were going to be up in Newcastle with Brian by then, it had been decided to give him a ****** birthday tea at Susan and Ralph's house on Friday afternoon. I told her I wouldn't be able to make it in the afternoon, but she seemed OK with that, and I agreed to get there as soon as I could after work.
On Thursday I had a good morning down in Exeter. That place still impressed me, and over a working lunch with Stephen Hobbs, he was telling me of the business they had had to turn down from old clients after the takeover by TDF. As I'd predicted to Carole, I was back in my own office by four.
At about five o'clock Piers came through my office door, "Ta-Raaaa!" He stood just inside my office with his hands held high in triumph.
I was sitting in my comfortable easy chair, reading some papers, and I just looked at him.
"You are looking at the greatest grandfather ever of the greatest grandson ever!"
"Congratulations! What's his name and congratulations to Jeanette and Ester."
He made his face fall, but he couldn't keep the smile off it really, "Edward. Of all bloody names. I ask you? Edward!"
"Edward's not bad. Ed, Teddy, Eddy. No, it's OK. More than OK. What's wrong with it?"
"Longshanks? Edward I? You must have at least seen Braveheart. Now what decent Scot would have his grandson called Edward?"
"I suspect you will survive the scorn and damnation that will fall upon your ******."
He smiled, or more accurately, he continued to smile. He sat down opposite me, "Anyway, you wanted me?"
"Only briefly. A word to the wise and all that. How's Peter working these days?"
"OK. He isn't sparkling, he spends most of his time in his office. I've noticed he isn't particularly sociable, but he's OK as far as work is concerned. Why?"
"I just got whiff of a rumour that some of the team think that he's not playing as much of a part as he should be. That's all. I thought I would pass it on."
Piers sighed. "Bugger!" he looked at me, "OK. I'll have a word. It might be partly my fault. I haven't been too sociable to him lately either. I just feel that he possibly brought some of his problems onto himself. But maybe I should give him a little more of my time to kick him into a bit more action at work."
I smiled, mainly to myself, "I'm pretty certain that he brought it on himself."
"Why? What's happened?"
I glanced at my watch and then at my whisky decanter. I knew he followed my eyes. "I think you'd better see me as a fucking bastard, in fact quite a big fucking bastard to tell you all that. And it's a bit early."
Piers considered things, "What are you doing this evening?"
"Nothing, why?"
"Well, Edward has a very dry head, which needs wetting. And if you've been a fucking bastard.... Well, I know this pub in Bath, surprisingly not far from my flat actually, that has the best range of malt whiskies that I know of around here, and haggis is always on their menu. And Jeanette is up in London, cooing and clucking and practicing being a grandmother. So I'm a bachelor..."
"I shouldn't. I'd like to, but I couldn't do that and drive home."
"Get a taxi."
I called out for Carole and as she came into the room I asked, "Do you think you could book me a car to pick me up at my place at about seven thirty say. And take me to the Doc's place in Bath. And then bring me back at ..." I looked at Piers, "...eleven thirty, say. This evening."
"Of course, think it done. Congratulations, Doctor. Isn't he a bit early?"
Piers turned to Carole, "A couple of weeks, but everything's fine. He just felt like surprising us."
I thought: Carole has a database mind for everyone in this company apparently.
Piers left after that, and I went on reading and making notes.
When Carole was leaving she put her head around my office door, "I'll have the Alka Seltzer ready in the morning."
"I hope it won't be that heavy. But, the way I feel, it might just..."
"It'll do you good. Goodnight. See you in the morning."
