I arrived at my office feeling very bright and cheerful on the Monday morning. But there, waiting for me was Peter Davies. My heart sank, I didn't want to start my week with an unseemly macho row.
He stood up as I arrived; I noted Carole hadn't arrived yet.
"Peter Davies! I guess you are waiting for me." I didn't stop, I kept walking to my office.
He followed me. As I turned and looked at him I had to admit to myself that he really is a handsome man, damn him. He also looked very fit and well, I was hoping that at least he'd look pale, tired and worried. Instead he looked as if he'd been out in the fresh air all weekend.
He smiled, "I came here first, before I go in to the Abbey and see Piers and tell him that I'm back at work with a completely new attitude. I wanted you to know."
I looked at him, "I'm glad to hear it."
"Well, I did a lot of thinking over the weekend. I realised that it is no good living with what has happened in the past, I've got to accept the challenge of the future."
That sounded hopeful, "Good. Well I know you are good at your job, so you've still got a great career in front of you."
He smiled, "I know that. I'll be talking to Piers about that. I rather let things slip recently, and I need to catch up with him. But it's part of the reason I came to see you, to apologise and promise that I'm back at work, full time and committed." He paused and looked at me, I felt he was hesitating before he said something else, "I assume you've talked to Molly?"
I froze inside, "Yes. I have."
His eyes were searching my face, "And nothing's changed?"
"No. She was very upset. She's been through quite a lot."
He smiled again, "Well, it's time for forgiveness, and for everyone to move forward. What happened in the past is in the past. I realise that we can't go on with a marriage that is always looking over its shoulder at what happened, and the bits we regret."
I was beginning to believe that he had accepted things. Thank God for that.
He held out his hand, and I surprised myself by taking it and shaking it. I even wished him, "Best of luck."
I watched him leave. Fucking Hell! Life is full of surprises!
I got on with my work, and ten minutes later Carole was delivering a cup of coffee to my desk.
"I met Peter Davies as I was coming in. Did he come and see you?" She asked, trying to keep it casual, but with a keen edge to her voice.
I leant back and smiled, "Another exciting instalment in your soap opera. He came to tell me that he's going to forgive everybody, what for I'm not quite sure, but then he's going to get on with his life."
"Well, well. I thought he had a spring in his step. I remarked on it, and he said it was the sea air over the weekend. Well, I guess it's a good thing. The best thing he could do really."
"Yes it is." I agreed, "Anyway how was your weekend?"
"Quiet, but good. How about yours?"
I smiled, "It started badly. Got worse. But then it sort of started going a lot better, and yesterday was great."
"Any other news?"
"If you mean did I decide anything, No. But I've decided that I'm going to take as long as I need to decide anything."
She sat down and looked at me, "Can I say something?"
I shrugged and smiled, "You might as well; everyone else has."
"Well, I was thinking over the weekend about what your mother and step-father said. And I came to the conclusion they were wrong. You don't have a duty to patch something up with Molly, irrespective of how you feel."
I smiled, but she continued, "But it is your duty to try."
Suddenly I wasn't smiling, "I was wrong. No, you can't have your say."
She smiled, "Could you look your sons in the eyes and say: When I had a chance to put the ****** back together, a chance to give you the sort of home and life that you need to grow up, loved and supported, I walked away?"
"Surely, it's better to walk away than to give them hope and then fail?"
"Do you respect people who walk away from opportunity without even trying?"
I sighed, "OK. Point made." I half smiled, "Get the diary and let's talk about the week...."
My morning passed quite well. I was very busy, and that's the way I liked it. I had lunch in the dining room with Stephen Hobbs, who was up from Exeter, and Annette Morgan. From my point of view, this was so that I could watch the dynamics between them. After lunch I walked upstairs to my office with Stephen, as we were both going to my first Heads of Departments meeting, that I hoped would effectively supersede the Board in everything except rubber stamping and legal necessities.
I was just standing in my office with Stephen, chatting about nothing in particular, and really waiting for everybody else to assemble, when Piers McBaine came in.
He looked troubled, "Ah! Chris. I was wondering if I might have a word....."
I looked at Stephen, "If you could give me a minute please, Stephen..." Both Piers and myself watched him leave and close the door behind him.
When he'd gone I turned to Piers and smiled, "I had Peter Davies come to see me this morning, which was a bit of a worrying surprise. But it turns out that he's going to get on with his career and his life, and forgive and forget. Which is a bit of an anti-climax, but probably a good thing."
Piers still looked worried, "He told me he'd seen you. He came to see me first thing, as soon as he got in. And he said to me that he was now really focussed on his work, and that he was going to let go of the past. He even said it was a matter of acceptance and forgiveness, and not a moral issue, which I assumed was a dig at me about some of the things I'd said to him."
"Well?"
"Well, I think we both misunderstood him. Rather like you, I was delighted that he was turning over a new leaf. And then, just before I came over here, I thought I'd put my head round his door. I wanted to tell him that I would see him when I got back from this meeting. I've got a load of things that I should hand over to him, that I've protected him from in the last couple of weeks, but he can have them all on his plate if he's back, firing on all cylinders."
"OK. And this concerns me, how?"
"Because he said he was going to leave dead on time this afternoon, maybe even a bit early. He's got to get to the florist to pick up a special bouquet of sweet peas that he's ordered. And then he's got to get home and change. He's arranged a babysitter, and he's booked a table at their special restaurant down in King Street, and he's going to talk to Molly, forgive her everything and put the past into the past, and put his marriage back on track."
I gave a single word response, "Fuck!"
Piers smiled, relieved that he'd told me, "I think we both misunderstood him, don't you?"
I smiled, "I think we might." I was deep in thought.
Piers stood, watching me for a while, then asked "Are you going to phone Molly and warn her?"
I looked his way, "That's precisely what I'm thinking about. But No, I don't think I am. He's her husband. It's up to her to tell him that it's all over. And if she doesn't, and decides to go out dining with him, well I'll know where I stand, won't I?"
"Are you sure?" Piers asked, and looked very doubtful.
"Yes. One of the bits that I don't understand, that I'm having great difficulty with, is the relationship between Molly and Peter. OK, they got it together one afternoon, that's wrong, and I'm not sure I can forgive her that bit. But after that, if she never loved him, why did she go on to marry him? And if she can't get rid of him now, well....I don't know."
Just then Carole came in, "They're all in the Boardroom waiting for you. Or do you want them in here?"
"No, there aren't enough seats in here. And I want you there to keep minutes." I looked round at Piers, "Come on. I'm relying on you to keep this meeting effective. It's not a waffle shop, it's to take decisions."
I had a good afternoon, and at the end of it I was sitting at my desk, wondering if I'd done the right thing in not warning Molly. I was deep in those thoughts when I sensed that there was someone in the room. I looked around, it was Myra.
I smiled, "Hello, stranger. I haven't seen you for days."
She came and sat at my desk, "I was in London for a couple of days last week, and one day in Exeter. But I did try to catch you on Friday evening, but you'd gone."
"Sorry. I had to get to a little party for Jamie's birthday."
"Well...? Spill."
I realised that the last time I'd seen Myra it was to announce that Molly loved me, and I hadn't told her anything else.
Then a thought occurred to me, "What are you doing this evening?"
She looked suspicious, "Nothing. But should I be washing my hair or something? I've got a boyfriend you know."
"It's purely platonic, I assure you. No, it's just that you want to know my story. I need to eat, and I think I'd like some company this evening. So, why don't I combine all those and buy you dinner?"
She smiled, "OK."
"Let's take two cars down to King Street. We could go to that place we went to before. You can't miss it, its painted lime green."
OK, I thought. If Molly does accept Peter's invitation, then it'll be a nice surprise for them to find me and Myra having a little dinner together in their special restaurant.
We had a leisurely dinner. Although we agreed that we'd stick to one bottle of wine, we still chose to drink a glass before we even ordered any food. I refused to tell her anything of the Molly story until I asked how Myra was doing with Dr Will. Apparently that was going well, I suspected it was going a lot better than just well, by the smile and warm look in her eyes as she talked about him. But, I expect that she'll tell be all about it in good time.
Then, at her prompting, I told her Molly's story. Straight up, much as I'd told Carole, and Piers McBaine in his Scottish pub last week. I finished with telling her Carole's view that it was my duty to try to build something with Molly. I didn't tell her about Peter's little charade today, partly because I thought that if we did get some special fellow diners, it would look better if it was an accident, and partly because I didn't know what I thought of it myself. I was beginning to wonder whether Peter hadn't carefully devised his script to give me the wrong idea this morning, just out of malice.
She looked at me across the table, "So, what stops you trying?"
"Simple. It isn't worth it. Even if I could forgive her adultery, and even if I could understand why she married him, we are different people now. You just can't put it all back together. She's been another man's wife for four years, and I've travelled the world and done all sorts of things, most of which I probably shouldn't have, but ... too many experiences. We've changed."
Myra took a sip of wine, "OK." She paused in thought, then she looked up and smiled, "Change of subject. I don't think I've ever told you about me, about where I came from. We've talked about Jonathon, but not the me before that."
"No. You're right. What terrible secrets do you feel a need to confess?"
"None. Hard luck. I grew up with a Mum and ***, and a sister and a brother, in Bexleyheath. A very average middle class suburb of south London....."
"I don't know it."
"Well, take my word for it, it's OK and the people are nice enough, but it's average. Anyway, I had a special childhood friend. Her name was Tilly. Matilda actually, but she always called herself Tilly for obvious reasons. She was a week older than me, six days to be precise, and she lived a few doors away. I think our Mums met in ante-natal classes. Well, Tilly and I grew up like sisters. We went to the same nursery, then the same local schools. We even went to the same University. She studied Modern Languages, and I did my Business Administration degree. In our second and third years we shared a flat. We were so close."
"Am I meant to say Aah? Or are you going to admit that you are really a closet lesbian, and that Dr Will is really a dyke in drag?"
"None of the above." Then she smiled naughtily, "Except we did practice kissing for one afternoon, when we were about fourteen, just so that we wouldn't get it wrong when we got to boys."
I smiled, and she continued, "Well in our third year at Uni, Tilly met a Spanish guy. He was quite fit, but I soon learned that he had quite a reputation for love 'em and leave 'em. I tried warning her, but she just used to tell me I was jealous. It got to be a real problem between us, and I learnt to keep my mouth shut. I just prayed that they'd split up before she got really hurt."
"And so you learnt the art of diplomacy. Pity you don't practice it now." I said with a smile.
She poked her tongue out at me, and continued, "Then, in the summer term, Tilly told me that they were going to get engaged when they graduated, and get married soon after. I didn't know what to do. But I decided that there was little I could do, and I just hoped that he'd changed his ways. Then, one weekend, Tilly went home for some ****** do, and there was a party at Uni that I was going to go to. And, guess what? Her fiancé spent the whole evening trying to chat me up."
"And did you tell her?"
"No. I convinced myself that he'd ***** too much, and I chose to overlook it. But a couple of weeks later, we're all at another party, and this time he suggests that Tilly has agreed to a three in a bed romp. So, I did tell Tilly. I was pretty sure she'd agreed to no such thing, and I decided that it was time she knew what sort of man she was marrying."
I sipped some water, and prompted her, "And?"
"And we had the only screaming cat fight I've ever had in my life, right in the middle of the party. He, of course, denied ever saying anything to me, and she never spoke to me again."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It happened. What does Carole say? Shit happens? You can't always avoid it. Anyway, she married him, I wasn't even invited to the wedding. My parents were, I wasn't. And she went off to live in Spain with her new husband."
"And the moral of this story is...?"
"We haven't got that far yet. Last Christmas, that's seven years later, my Mum phoned me and said Tilly wanted to get in touch, and she'd given her my address. Sure enough she turned up on my doorstep some three days later."
"Was it a happy reunion?"
"Yes, it was. It turns out that I'd been right all along and she admitted it. He gave her a terrible time and they were divorced within three years. But she stayed on in Spain, and built a business of advising ex-patriots living there on language, culture and some of the laws. She employed German and Swedish speakers and had quite a business. She was a success."
"Good for her. So a lousy partner doesn't stop you being a good businessman or woman."
She ignored my interruption, "After a couple of years she met another man. A Brit as it happened, but he lived in Spain. And they'd fallen in love and it turned out he was a good bloke. And then she got pregnant, but that was fine. They were going to get married, and everything was rosy. But he got killed in an ETA terrorist attack. I suppose it isn't surprising, but she was so shocked and grief stricken that she lost the baby, she had a miscarriage."
"I'm sorry."
"So, in seven years, she'd argued and split with her best friend, married a lousy man, got divorced, built a business, fell in love, got pregnant, was widowed and had a miscarriage. That's some going in seven years."
"Yes it is. How was she after all that?"
"And this is my point. She was still exactly the same person that I grew up with. She still had the same sense of humour. She still had the same moral values. She still had the same way of glancing at me sideways when she pulled my leg. She still even smoothed her dress in the same way as she sat down. She was still Tilly, as I'd always known her." She paused and looked at me, "Chris, I'm sure there are a thousand and one reasons why you couldn't put it back together with Molly, but that you're different people isn't one of them."
I hadn't seen that one coming. I paused, wondering how to reply. I looked up, "Could you tell me some of the other reasons, I might need them."
She didn't see the funny side of my comment, "And that's your answer, is it?"
I looked at her, "No. I haven't the faintest idea what my answer is, but I'm sure that in time I will."
I looked at my watch, it was nearly half past nine, and the wine had run out long ago. I looked around the room, Peter and Molly hadn't shown up, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't now. So, I suggested I pay the bill, and that we go home.
As I drove home I thought: I want to find just one person who would be on my side. Someone who would say, 'Reconciliation? You must be fucking joking. Steer well clear of it. Build a good relationship with your sons and just get on with your life.' Just one person like that would be nice.
Not long after I got home, Ralph phoned me.
"Yes, Ralph?"
"Sorry to phone you so late, I tried earlier and you had it switched off."
"I was out for dinner, and I always try to switch it off when I can remember and I'm in a restaurant. Anyway, what can I do for you?"
"I was with Molly this afternoon. What happened to you on Saturday night? She's convinced something did, and she's as bad as she ever was about not having any right to interfere with your life."
"Well she's a bit late to decide that. But as for Saturday night, I'm sorry Ralph, but I'm going to say: Mind your own business."
"Was it a woman? Was it that Myra?"
"It's got nothing to do with you. To the best of my knowledge I'm a single guy with no commitments to anyone, including your ********."
"Well, I'm sorry, but when my ******** is upset that the man she loves, the man she's committed to, starts other relationships, then it is my business as far as I'm concerned."
I paused to choose my words, "Whatever happened on Saturday night has absolutely nothing to do with you, nor has it anything to do with your ********. Now, I suggest you get off the phone, before one of us says something that they regret. Tomorrow is Jamie's birthday, I'm meant to be taking Molly and the boys out to dinner. Now if Molly has problems with how I spend my Saturday nights, then she can tell me tomorrow. Good night, Ralph."
And I switched off the phone. Poured myself a whisky and calmed down.
Later, as I lay in bed that night, my mind didn't dwell on Ralph's little parental outburst. Instead my mind went over every possibility of what was happening between Molly and Peter. I was pretty sure that Molly would hate to make a scene, but I knew that the only version of events that would satisfy me was that Molly made it absolutely clear to him that the marriage was over, and one way or another, she would have her divorce.
The next morning Carole brought me my first coffee, and she just stood there looking at me, questioning me with her eyes.
"It's no good looking like that. I don't know what happened. I haven't heard from her. And I'm not going to chase her."
"Oh." Was her only comment.
"But if she phones, or some gossip comes in from the Abbey, then let me know." I shook my head, "I can't think about much else."
She smiled, "Shit happens."
As she turned to leave, I called her back, "One thing. I'm meant to be taking Molly and the two boys out for a ****** dinner tonight, it's Jamie's birthday today. Any ideas where I can take them? Molly's a bit wary that I've been feeding them too many burgers and pizzas, so do you know any restaurant where the food is both healthy and will appeal to a nine year old?"
She paused in thought, "Just one. I'd have to try and get the details, but one of the twins told be about a place where they specialise in all sorts of odd meats. You know, ostrich steaks and crocodile burgers. That might appeal."
I smiled, "Equally, it might make them sick. But it would be different. See if you can find it."
She turned to go and I called her back, "And can you find out what's happening at the football on Saturday. If it's possible, I'd like to take the boys. And while we're talking about Saturday, I'll move to my new flat in the morning. Could you check that everybody knows, and that it's OK. Please."
She smiled, "Can I go now?"
I smiled, "You'd better, before I think of some real work for you to do. That would interfere with you organising my private life."
Half an hour later she was back with my second cup of coffee. "You are welcome to take your sons to football on Saturday, but Sales are a bit concerned. There's plenty of room, but John Wheeler and Peter Barnes are using it to entertain Sir George Havers and a couple of his guys from Oxfordshire Health, and they aren't sure it will give a good impression with young boys running around."
I looked at her and wracked my brains, "I've met George Havers.....Yes, on the day Helene came. I had lunch with him, I don't remember a lot of it, my mind was elsewhere, but I do remember him raving about his grandchildren. Get him on the phone for me, would you?"
Two minutes later I was being put through to Sir George.
"George Havers."
"George, it's Chris Bennett at ITI Franks. I understand that we're entertaining you at the football on Saturday."
"Yes. Will you be there?"
"I hope so, but I was wondering if you could do me a big favour...."
"Like what?" He asked suspiciously.
"Well, I've sort of promised my two boys to take them to the football, and my sales people are a bit worried about not wanting a seven and nine year old running around. I was wondering if I could convince you to bring your grandchildren?"
It went quiet for a moment, then I heard a rumbling chuckle, "I don't know, Mr Bennett, you want me to make myself the best grandfather in the world, just because it suits you for me to do so, and we don't even do business. And what is more you seem to think that my poor son and his wife would like to be without their three sons on Saturday afternoon. And we both know how much parents hate the idea of having some private time to themselves. Well, if I must I must, I suppose."
I laughed, "Thank you so much. You get me out of an awkward situation. And tell your guys that if they want to bring some off-spring, then just tell them to get in touch with John Wheeler, just to make sure we've got space and can feed them all."
After I put the phone down I called Carole back. "No problem. George Havers is bringing his three grandsons. And there might be a couple of other requests for children. Can you let John know, and tell him that both he and Peter are welcome to bring young guests. It will seal a relationship with Oxfordshire Health ten times better than any sales presentation ever would."
My morning continued, still without any word of what had happened between Molly and Peter last night. Just before lunch, I was in my bathroom washing my hands, and I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, and I knew I would have to phone her on some pretext.
As I came out, I found Piers McBaine and Neil Davidson standing in the middle of my office, obviously waiting for me. I looked at them, "It's deja vu all over again. Take a seat gentlemen, and tell me what this is all about."
We sat down around the coffee table. It was Piers that started, "Well, you're right in that it is the same old problem. Peter didn't come into work this morning. We've had no word from him whatsoever."
Was that a good sign or a bad sign? I didn't know. But I did know I had to respond. "That's just simply unacceptable. He's a senior executive, he can't just go walkabout when it suits him."
It was Neil who answered, "No. We agree. And this is the second time it's happened in a matter of weeks. If he was a junior member of staff he'd be fast heading to being fired."
"Have we tried phoning him? Is it possible that something has happened to him?" I asked.
Piers replied, "I haven't tried. But Neil phoned his home and got Molly. She said she didn't know where he was. She'd seen him last night, but after that he'd gone off and she hasn't seen him since."
"Hmmm." Was all I said and looked at them both. But I was thinking: Well done Molly - probably.
Piers recognised my dilemma, "It's alright; I briefed Neil on things. He knows what Peter intended last night. That's why he phoned and not me, he could be innocent and just make an enquiry without getting involved in any other conversation."
I turned to Neil, "OK. What would happen to a junior if he behaved like this?"
"Well, it's a matter of judgement. If there's been a terrible car crash and their wife's been killed, then we are terribly flexible and tolerant. If it's that someone just has a hell of a hangover, then they're going to get a formal warning letter. And all points in between. But, we've never had it with anyone this senior before."
"What does his contract say?"
"Nothing on this problem, except that holidays are arranged by mutual agreement and proper notice."
"OK. Well, I can't see any reason to make any exception just because he thinks I've got some part in the story. I guess that's what he's relying on. That I will be tolerant. So, what do you suggest?"
Neil glanced at Piers, but answered, "That all time is off his holiday allowance or is unpaid. That he gets a formal warning letter, and if he's not back by Monday then he's fired. That's what we would do with any junior. It's tough, and if he'd phoned Piers and got some form of agreement, then things would be different."
Piers interrupted, "There is always a possibility that he can come in with a doctor's note that he's suffering from depression."
I reflected Neil's words, "Then things would be different. Can I suggest one other thing. My guess is he's gone off to their cottage in Wales again, it seems to be where he goes to sulk. Piers, I assume you've got his cell phone number." Piers nodded. "Well, give it to Neil and let him make a friendly but formal warning telephone call."
Piers turned to Neil, "Are you OK to do that?"
Neil didn't look too pleased, "No. It's not the sort of call that I look forward to, but I'll do it." Then he looked around at both myself and Piers, and stood up, "Well that's settled. Anyone coming to lunch?"
I answered, "No thanks. I was going to go to the canteen and sit at a random table. You know me."
Piers looked at me, "Can I make a suggestion? That you come over to the Abbey, and have lunch in the refectory there. A bit of damage control PR before there's any damage might not be a bad thing."
Neil added, "It sounds a good idea to me. If anything, encourage a bit of gossip that will allow you and Piers to explain that this is not your fault, whatever Peter Davies says. But, in fairness, we don't know that he has or will say anything."
I looked at Piers, "OK. But we'll go in separate cars, so that I can come back here after lunch."
Piers got to the Abbey first, and he was waiting for me when I arrived. But we separated to have lunch in the refectory. No one mentioned Peter Davies to me, but I did overhear Piers say to someone, that whatever was wrong with Peter Davies's marriage it certainly wasn't Chris Bennett's responsibility. I thought that word, responsibility, was an interesting choice. It might be my fault, I might be the cause of it, but it wasn't my responsibility.
After lunch I went back to Piers's office for a quick coffee. Naturally, he asked, "It sounds like Molly gave him the order of the boot. Any idea what you'll do?"
"I'm vaguely drifting to some ideas. I just can't see that we can put it all back together and pretend that Peter Davies never happened. If I'd known then what had happened, well I guess it would have been my job to get over it. People do all sorts of stupid things, office parties, anger, depression and drunken moments. And if they are a one off, and lessons are learnt, then I think it's a challenge to get over it and rebuild things, assuming there's nothing else wrong with the marriage. But what bugs me, what I really can't explain, is why in the world did she go on to marry him? That's so wrong and just plain stupid."
"Maybe her mother was a bigger influence than you realise."
"No. First, she was still a free thinking responsible adult. You can't just blame the mother. And second, if that was true, don't you think that Molly would be clinging to it as an excuse? She doesn't believe it was all Susan's fault, so why should I?"
Piers shook his head, "But, if your not going to try and rebuild something, then I guess it's all academic anyway."
I looked at him, "Not quite. I begin to think that I'm drifting to some idea that I should put a bit of effort into trying to build some relaxed, supportive relationship with her." I shrugged, "I've got to see that she's got a proper home, and that the boys have got a decent life. That is my responsibility. It's just getting the relationship right between myself and Molly."
Piers looked at me for a long time, "Hmmm. It's interesting, isn't it? How would you go about trying to build a relationship with someone you used to be married to, years earlier? Counselling?"
"No way. First, I doubt whether any counsellor is trained in trying to pick up the pieces of a five year old rift and divorce, and put it half back together, to a friendship level. Second, I'm not having a counsellor walking all over my private life. Third, if Molly and I can't talk honestly to each other, then why are we bothering?"
"OK. But I suspect some periods of formal talking, exchanges of views and information, would be sensible....."
And after that, Piers and myself went into an almost academic exercise of how to put a relationship back together. We even started writing on his white board, with headings like Emotions, Sex, Needs, Wants, and time allocations for various things. It only took ten minutes, it wasn't particularly deep, but it was useful in getting my mind into gear.
But then I came back to where we started, "But, there is no point if I can't understand how the hell she married him. I could work at understanding or accepting the original adultery, and that's a fairly big obstacle to get over in itself, but not her being married to him for four years. It just makes her the sort of person that I don't want to know."
Piers did one of his long, thoughtful stares, "But you do want to know....." Again he paused, and then brighten up, "I'm under the cosh at home, or will be when Jeanette gets back from being a grandmother at the weekend, to get you to come to dinner again."
"I'd love to. But you must let me entertain you this time. Somewhere in Bath, you must have a favourite."
"Well, how about... I don't know...Saturday of next week? I'm up at Ester's this weekend, and Jeanette will come home with me. So, why not come round to our place early evening on the following Saturday, and I'll have booked something by then?"
"It's a date." And I left him, and I headed back to the office.
As I came into Carole's office, she handed me the usual sheaf of notes, and then an extra one: "That's the restaurant I told you about. I've actually booked you a table for four people at seven o'clock. I guessed that'd be about right. But I can change it or cancel it."
"No. Let's make the birthday boy face a challenge. Thanks, it sounds... different?"
And so I was ringing Molly's doorbell to take them all for dinner, not long gone six o'clock. She opened the door, and when she saw it was me, she sort of fell into my arms, shaking and crying.
"Hey! What's the matter? Talk to me, tell me."
I led her into the kitchen, but when I went to guide her to a chair, she just said, "No. Hold me, just hold me. I'll be alright in a moment."
So I held her, and eventually she stopped sobbing and did sit down.
She smiled weakly at me, "Sorry about that, I've had a bit of a twenty four hours..."
Just then Ben came bouncing into the room, "Hi, Daddy. Are we going then?"
"Hold on a few minutes, Mummy needs to tell me something. Go and find Jamie and play until I come and get you. OK?"
"OK." He said, rather sulkily, but he did go, looking at his mother, but not saying anything.
After he'd left, I looked at her, "OK. What's happened?"
"It started last night. On Saturday, the letter for Peter from my solicitor arrived. And I put it under his door. Well, he came home last night, and the first thing I knew was him standing in here, with a huge bunch of sweet peas in one hand and the letter in the other, and asking what it meant. And I told him I needed to know what were his intentions about our marriage. I didn't say that I wanted him to divorce me, I thought I'd go gently."
"OK" I said.
"And he said his intentions were to forgive me everything. That he loved me, and that we had a wonderful marriage until you came back into the picture. And he was sure he could get used to you being around, and that he wanted everything to go back as it was. And he handed me the sweet peas."
"Oh! So what did you do?"
"I told him that he'd been right all along, that I did love you. And I thought the marriage was over. But he then seemed to go into panic mode. He said that it was all a passing obsession. That you didn't love me. That he knew we'd spoken, and you hadn't taken me back, and couldn't I see that you never would, and....." She trailed off into some tears.
I filled the pause, "But whether we get back together or not is irrelevant. Your marriage to him is wrong. It always has been. And it has to be ended."
She looked at me, "I know. I know. And that's what I told him. But he wouldn't have it. He seemed to be demanding that I had to stay married to him. That he needed me so much, that I didn't have any say in the matter. I ended up saying that if he didn't divorce me, then I'd divorce him. I think that brought him up with a jerk. But then he started blaming you. That you'd put me up to it...."
"Which in some ways is true."
"No, you only prompted me to do something that's needed doing for ages. Anyway, he was ranting and saying how much he loved me and that I loved him really, then he was crying and sobbing. He went down on his knees and begged me to give him another chance. I said there was no point, but I felt awful. It was horrid."
"So how did it end?"
"It ended when Trisha Marsden from over the road knocked at the door. He answered it and he led her away, and never came back. I locked the doors, so that at least he'd have to knock and I would have some warning."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know. Neil Davidson phoned this morning and asked where he was. Apparently he hadn't gone into work. That worried me, so I went and looked, he wasn't in the gym, and his car has gone. I guess he's gone to Wales. But I haven't phoned."
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, I went down the directory and found Neil Davidson and pressed Dial. Thank you Carole for loading all useful numbers into my directory.
"Neil Davidson."
"Neil, it's Chris. Did you trace Peter Davies?"
"Yes you were right. He's at their holiday cottage."
"And did you tell him that he's on thin ice?"
"Yes. I gave him quite a talking to, I tried to make it sympathetic and understanding, but with a tough bottom line. I told him that if he wasn't back by Monday, then he'd be fired."
"What did he say?"
"That we'd have to wait until fucking Monday to find out if he fucking cared, and if he wanted to work for that fucking bastard. I assume you are the bastard in question."
I paused before I replied, "I suppose I owe him. I give Scotch to people who call me a fucking bastard. Hasn't Piers told you? But I think I'll just stay as a fucking bastard for him, no whisky."
"I'd heard. And Yes, I'd skip it with him, if I were you."
"Thanks Neil." And we rang off.
I looked at Molly. "It's alright. He hasn't done anything stupid. He is in Wales."
She half smiled, "I guess he's in trouble at work."
"Yes he is. We can't have senior guys just not coming in when they don't feel like it."
"No, you probably can't. There's a little boy element in Peter. But I didn't think he'd do anything stupid. Peter is totally opposed to suicide in circumstances like these. I guessed he'd just gone to Wales."
"Anyway, you should have phoned me last night. Not that there was a lot I could do or say."
"No. It was something that I had to do. It was just horrible, I hated seeing him like that. He does love me, and it wasn't nice."
"No, it probably wasn't. I'm sorry, but you did the right thing." I paused, and for a moment our eyes connected, "So, that was yesterday. What happened today?"
"Susan turned up at about four o'clock to give Jamie his birthday present."
"How is she?"
"Fit, well and unrepentant. She sort of arrived as if everything was normal. It was odd."
"And?"
"And I showed her into the sitting room, where the boys were watching television. She gave Jamie his present, and that was odd, he unwrapped it and it was a game for an X-Box. But Jamie doesn't have an X-Box, so I didn't understand."
"What did she say?"
"She seemed surprised that he didn't have an X-Box. She seemed to think that he was having one for his birthday. I don't know where she got that idea."
"I do." I said, "I've just remembered something Carole said." I paused and looked at her and took her hand; I wasn't sure how she was going to react to what I was going to say, "Peter came to see me in my office yesterday. He came to tell me that he was going to forgive everyone and move on with his life. I really thought that he had accepted the idea of divorce, and had learnt to live with it. Apparently he went to see Piers, and gave him the same impression. But, I thought he looked fit and well. And apparently Carole thought the same, only she mentioned it, and he said it was sea air that had done him good. I didn't think about it at the time, but you don't get a lot of sea air halfway up a Welsh mountain, but you do in Weymouth."
Her lips thinned, and her eyes hardened, "They got together over the weekend. I bet it was her that put him up to last night's attempted reconciliation. And she thought he was going to give Jamie an X-Box." She paused, and then stood up and got herself a glass of water, "I asked her, did she meet with Peter before we were married? She wouldn't actually answer that. She said that all she did was for the best, that she wanted me to be happy. How could she, she's my mother? So much for motherly love and maternal instincts."
"How did you leave it?"
She shrugged, "I told her to phone next time before she comes to visit. I think that shocked her, we always had an easy come and go relationship before. She started to protest that she was their grandmother, that she had a right to see them. But I just said it would be more convenient if she phoned ahead of time in future. Whether she will or not....." she shrugged again.
We paused, in silence. There didn't seem to be much I could say. I did think that I would have to tell her that I had wind of Peter's reconciliation attempt and that I'd chosen to do nothing. But, I'd leave that for another day.
I went over and gave her a quick hug. "Are you going to be alright? Or shall I tell Jamie that he's going to have to wait for another night?"
"No. Come on. I need to freshen up, but it will be good for me and help me to stop thinking. My brain's in overload."
Eventually, we got to the restaurant, and it turned out to be better and more fun that I was expecting. As is the way of these things, the only one not to eat an unusual meat was the birthday boy, Jamie. Molly had crocodile, I had ostrich, and Ben had a bison burger, although I suspect that had more to do with burger than bison. But, what did Jamie want? Lasagne! But it was his birthday, and we didn't argue. I gave him my present, and he seemed really pleased with the books, until gave him the Ipod, which seemed far more exciting.
Of course, I should have known, Carole had done her thing. Unordered, Jamie got a big birthday ice cream, with candles and sweets all over it.
As I sat there, I could have got very sentimental about how happy it all was. I had to give myself a good mental talking to. There can be four of us in a ******, but there are only two of us in a marriage, and marriages have to last when the ****** has grown up.
When we got back, Ben was hustled off to bed, but Jamie was given half an hour on the computer to see if he could find some music to download. Of course, half an hour wasn't long enough, and he put up quite a fight to have longer, but he lost. I was rather pleased to see that he went into his bedroom with one of his new Harry Potter books, with clear instructions that he was only allowed to read one chapter before his light had to go off.
Once the boys were in bed, Molly got out a bottle of wine. Suddenly remembrance of that Sunday night, so long ago, when I got out a bottle of wine, determined to talk about something that was wrong in my ****** hit me. It took all my inner strength to not just walk away.
I looked at Molly, "Are you going to be alright?"
"Yes. I hope he doesn't come back and make ugly scenes. It was a bit scary. I hadn't seen him like that before. There were a few minutes when he was quite manic."
"Why don't you go and live with Ralph? They've got a big house. And you are both in this together in some ways, from the Susan aspect of it all."
She paused and thought about that, before almost musing, "I wonder what he'll do?"
I assumed she meant Ralph and I remembered him talking to me, "He told me that he'd forgive her, and that they'd sort something out."
"But everything we find out seems to show her up more. I'm not sure what to do about her. I don't want to break up with my own mother, but.....I'm having real difficulty. It would help if I knew just how much she got up to, how much she influenced me."
"Those are unanswerable questions. Look, I'd be happier if you went to live with Ralph, with or without Susan. Can't you check with your solicitor that there's no great implications of you moving out, and subject to that, move over there. You'd have a built in babysitter."
She looked at me, pleading in her eyes, "Do I need somewhere else to live? Couldn't we have somewhere?"
I guess something showed in my eyes, because she suddenly retracted, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't push you. I know that. It's just....."
"It's just that you will have to give me time. More time. It's been nearly five years. A week or two isn't going to make much difference." I tried smiling reassuringly, "But I am just beginning to shape up some ideas that may not be all you think you want, but somehow will be a darn sight better than we've got now, and is a fresh start."
She looked up sharply, keenly interested, "Is that it? You can't just say something like that and not tell me."
"Yes I can. I have to, I haven't thought it all out myself yet. It's just that I feel we have to do something that'll give Jamie and Ben some security, but I don't know how or what. I thought you'd be pleased that I am trying to make some progress in my thoughts."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I keep forgetting how hard all this is for you. I know what I want, and it's hard to realise that you have doubts. Please just remember that I love you and I'd do anything to be given a second chance."
I smiled, "I could challenge you on that 'anything', but I'm scared you just might."
"You could have come round and challenged me on Saturday night. What happened?"
"And that's precisely it. There is no way I could come round here and just do what I did on Saturday night. I went out, knowing that I wanted sex. Good old fashioned, uncomplicated sex. And I met a charming woman who I liked, but don't care about and will never meet again. And we had good old fashioned sex. And it was great. There was no future in it, I doubt whether we liked each other enough to have gotten past Sunday lunch even if we'd tried our hardest. It was meaningless, wonderful, relaxing, refreshing sex. Now, there is no way I could get that with you. It would be meaningful, and at the moment, it certainly wouldn't be relaxing or refreshing. Every minute would have been invested with emotion and pressure. And you know damn well it would."
It was quiet for a moment, Molly had gone very pale, and then she asked, "Is that what you meant by you've changed. That we can't ever get together, that you're a different person now? You're someone who goes out on a Saturday night and picks up a total stranger for meaningless sex?"
"No. No way. I was completely faithful to you. You know I was. I was completely faithful to Helene when we were together. That's the sort of person I am, and when I'm committed to a relationship, then I like it that way. It isn't an effort, I don't want anyone else. But, just in case you've forgotten, at the moment I'm not committed."
Again we fell to silence, which I broke, "Ralph phoned me last night. He said you were all upset about your suspicions of what I did on Saturday evening. I'm sorry I hurt you, you should know I would never purposely do that. But it was nothing to do with you. I'm a bachelor and I went out on Saturday and I got lucky, I got laid, and that was exactly what I wanted to happen. I'm sorry that you guessed and got hurt by it."
"You could have come round here. I long for you. Do you know what I did on Saturday night? I rubbed myself and thought of you. I love you, I want you, and it's hateful that you're out there looking for something that I'd give you freely and with love."
"And with strings attached. It's inevitable. And anyway, you're married. I'm sorry, but you are, and that sticks in my throat. I don't do it with married women." I paused, and as she didn't respond, I added, "Look. If I ever do get committed to you again, in any way, then I promise, it will be completely natural for me to be one hundred percent totally faithful to you. But, until then, I'm sorry, but I am a free agent."
We looked at each other, and I could read in her eyes that she understood, but that I had hurt her. I felt guilty about that for no logical reason that I could see.
I tried smiling, "If I'd known you were letting your hands do the walking, well I might have come round to watch that."
She smiled, "Watching is a privilege of commitment."
"Told you." I smiled, and then changed subject, "Is it OK if I take the boys to football on Saturday. It's a mixture of business entertaining and a fun afternoon out."
"Sure. Can you pick them up from here, but bring them back to Ralph's. I promised to go over there."
"Sure."
And that was the way we left it.
Nothing much happened for the rest of the week. Peter didn't come back to work, so finding out whether he'd turn up on Monday was going to be critical. Nobody gave me helpful advice or preached little homilies at me, which made a pleasant change. And I got through all the way to Saturday without a problem. It was almost like a holiday in itself.
On Saturday, the football went well with all the children. In fact it was a great success, and John Wheeler started talking about holding ****** days for the clients and prospects. My boys loved it, and as soon as I got them back to Ralph's, they had to tell him all about it.
He stood there in the middle of his front lawn with his arms around both of them as they jabbered away, but he looked at me, in the eyes, "I'm sorry about Monday night. I think I was a little over-protective."
I just said, "Forgiven. I understand. Things must be a bit stressed for you too."
"But you should think things through a bit better. You have to realise, whether you like it or not, several peoples' happiness is dependent on you."
I turned away, "Thanks. Just what I didn't want to know."
I found Molly in Ralph's kitchen. I didn't have a lot to say. I told her that I'd moved my stuff over to my new flat that morning, and I gave her the new address. She immediately asked if she could see it, and I felt fairly relaxed about that, and said I'd give her a ring.
Somewhere in that conversation, Ralph came in and put the kettle on for a cup of tea, and invited me to stay.
"No thanks. I'll leave you in peace." I looked at Molly, "Just one thing. I've remembered that when I took Jamie to the Zoo last Sunday, just as he'd asked, he told me that it wasn't the zoo he'd wanted to go to. He said he had memories of going to what sounded like a safari park or something with you and Peter. It must have been some time ago, because Ben couldn't remember it. Any ideas?"
She immediately blushed and looked guilty, "Yes. It was Longleat. You know Lord Bath's place over at Warminster." She gulped and looked at me, "It was before our divorce was finalised. Peter had been nagging that he wanted to take us all on a day out. I think he was wanting to show that he could be a ****** man. But I kept turning him down."
I noticed Ralph was obviously trying to show that he was not listening to this story, but equally obviously he was listening intently.
"But...?" I prompted.
"Well then he turned up at my desk at the Hospital and said he'd just won a ****** Ticket for Longleat in some charity raffle. Well, I still turned him down. But, Susan kept nagging, and in the end, I agreed to go. I thought the boys deserved a break, they didn't need to be trapped at home with weepy me all the time. So we went. And everyone had a great time, except that I cried when I got home. I'd just had a great ****** time with the wrong ****** man. Oh why couldn't I see it then?"
Suddenly, Ralph said, "Just a minute.." and he disappeared off, leaving Molly and myself looking at each other in bewilderment. He came back with three big box files.
He looked at us, "I guess I should explain. For the last couple of days I've been thinking, getting paranoid I guess, if Susan could lie to me about what she did to interfere with you two, what else had she lied about? So, I've been going through all our old household accounts. Credit cards, phone bills, bank statements, just trying to see if there are any surprises. To be honest I never check any of them when they come in. We live well within our means, lots of things are paid by direct debit, and all I do is keep filing the papers."
"Don't feel guilty. I'm worse these days. I get Carole to file them for me." I said reassuringly.
"Well, I started with the phone bills, checking her itemised accounts. I can go back six years would you believe? I just keep putting new months on top until the file is full, then I take a year out from the bottom."
He suddenly pulled out a sheaf of itemised phone listings. With several lines per page highlighted with a hi-lite pen.
"These are the for the period you two were splitting up. She was phoning Peter three or four times a week then. Some days she'd phone him three times in one day. That shows you the level of their collusion. I'm sorry."
He handed the papers to Molly, "You might like to check them, some dates may jog your memory; explain something she said....Anyway, I moved on to the credit cards. There was nothing particularly inexplicable there. A few charges around my birthday and Christmas that I didn't immediately recognise. The rest is petrol bills and supermarkets."
He looked up at me and smiled, "And No, there aren't any bills from seedy motels or anything like that. But there was one unexplained charge, from Longleat, would you believe?"
He opened the third box, and pulled out what was obviously a set of Bank Statements. "And here is her clearing the cheque for exactly the same amount that Peter obviously repaid her with." He held up the page, pointing to another highlighted line.
Both Molly and I reacted at the same time, and both said something similar, "So she bought the ****** Ticket. Gave it to him and he then paid for it. And he said he'd won it in a raffle."
There was a long silence, which eventually I broke, "Well I guess it doesn't tell us anything really new. We all suspected something, maybe not quite this proactive on her part, but something. I suppose it's nice to have proof."
Molly interjected, "But it also shows that Peter was lying to me. That my relationship with him is based on lies. I just don't know what to believe anymore. I don't know how much I was manipulated." She sounded very bitter.
I looked at Ralph, he was deep in thought, "Ralph?"
"Sorry. I don't think I can answer that. I wish I could. I wish I'd known. All I remember is Susan being so insistent that we mustn't interfere. I really thought she was visiting Molly just to help, to be there, to lend a neutral ear, and to cook supper for the boys. Only once did she show any favouritism, one evening we were talking and she sang the praises of Peter. What an exceptionally kind and tolerant man he must be to be willing to court Molly when she was so upset about you, Chris. But I thought that was just a private conversation."
There was a long silence, broken by Ralph suddenly saying, "God! I'm so sorry." And he rushed out of the room, with his hand over his face.
I looked at Molly. "I don't think there's much more to be said, or certainly not by me. Maybe you should go and see your father, and I'll go." I kissed her on the cheek and left.
He stood up as I arrived; I noted Carole hadn't arrived yet.
"Peter Davies! I guess you are waiting for me." I didn't stop, I kept walking to my office.
He followed me. As I turned and looked at him I had to admit to myself that he really is a handsome man, damn him. He also looked very fit and well, I was hoping that at least he'd look pale, tired and worried. Instead he looked as if he'd been out in the fresh air all weekend.
He smiled, "I came here first, before I go in to the Abbey and see Piers and tell him that I'm back at work with a completely new attitude. I wanted you to know."
I looked at him, "I'm glad to hear it."
"Well, I did a lot of thinking over the weekend. I realised that it is no good living with what has happened in the past, I've got to accept the challenge of the future."
That sounded hopeful, "Good. Well I know you are good at your job, so you've still got a great career in front of you."
He smiled, "I know that. I'll be talking to Piers about that. I rather let things slip recently, and I need to catch up with him. But it's part of the reason I came to see you, to apologise and promise that I'm back at work, full time and committed." He paused and looked at me, I felt he was hesitating before he said something else, "I assume you've talked to Molly?"
I froze inside, "Yes. I have."
His eyes were searching my face, "And nothing's changed?"
"No. She was very upset. She's been through quite a lot."
He smiled again, "Well, it's time for forgiveness, and for everyone to move forward. What happened in the past is in the past. I realise that we can't go on with a marriage that is always looking over its shoulder at what happened, and the bits we regret."
I was beginning to believe that he had accepted things. Thank God for that.
He held out his hand, and I surprised myself by taking it and shaking it. I even wished him, "Best of luck."
I watched him leave. Fucking Hell! Life is full of surprises!
I got on with my work, and ten minutes later Carole was delivering a cup of coffee to my desk.
"I met Peter Davies as I was coming in. Did he come and see you?" She asked, trying to keep it casual, but with a keen edge to her voice.
I leant back and smiled, "Another exciting instalment in your soap opera. He came to tell me that he's going to forgive everybody, what for I'm not quite sure, but then he's going to get on with his life."
"Well, well. I thought he had a spring in his step. I remarked on it, and he said it was the sea air over the weekend. Well, I guess it's a good thing. The best thing he could do really."
"Yes it is." I agreed, "Anyway how was your weekend?"
"Quiet, but good. How about yours?"
I smiled, "It started badly. Got worse. But then it sort of started going a lot better, and yesterday was great."
"Any other news?"
"If you mean did I decide anything, No. But I've decided that I'm going to take as long as I need to decide anything."
She sat down and looked at me, "Can I say something?"
I shrugged and smiled, "You might as well; everyone else has."
"Well, I was thinking over the weekend about what your mother and step-father said. And I came to the conclusion they were wrong. You don't have a duty to patch something up with Molly, irrespective of how you feel."
I smiled, but she continued, "But it is your duty to try."
Suddenly I wasn't smiling, "I was wrong. No, you can't have your say."
She smiled, "Could you look your sons in the eyes and say: When I had a chance to put the ****** back together, a chance to give you the sort of home and life that you need to grow up, loved and supported, I walked away?"
"Surely, it's better to walk away than to give them hope and then fail?"
"Do you respect people who walk away from opportunity without even trying?"
I sighed, "OK. Point made." I half smiled, "Get the diary and let's talk about the week...."
My morning passed quite well. I was very busy, and that's the way I liked it. I had lunch in the dining room with Stephen Hobbs, who was up from Exeter, and Annette Morgan. From my point of view, this was so that I could watch the dynamics between them. After lunch I walked upstairs to my office with Stephen, as we were both going to my first Heads of Departments meeting, that I hoped would effectively supersede the Board in everything except rubber stamping and legal necessities.
I was just standing in my office with Stephen, chatting about nothing in particular, and really waiting for everybody else to assemble, when Piers McBaine came in.
He looked troubled, "Ah! Chris. I was wondering if I might have a word....."
I looked at Stephen, "If you could give me a minute please, Stephen..." Both Piers and myself watched him leave and close the door behind him.
When he'd gone I turned to Piers and smiled, "I had Peter Davies come to see me this morning, which was a bit of a worrying surprise. But it turns out that he's going to get on with his career and his life, and forgive and forget. Which is a bit of an anti-climax, but probably a good thing."
Piers still looked worried, "He told me he'd seen you. He came to see me first thing, as soon as he got in. And he said to me that he was now really focussed on his work, and that he was going to let go of the past. He even said it was a matter of acceptance and forgiveness, and not a moral issue, which I assumed was a dig at me about some of the things I'd said to him."
"Well?"
"Well, I think we both misunderstood him. Rather like you, I was delighted that he was turning over a new leaf. And then, just before I came over here, I thought I'd put my head round his door. I wanted to tell him that I would see him when I got back from this meeting. I've got a load of things that I should hand over to him, that I've protected him from in the last couple of weeks, but he can have them all on his plate if he's back, firing on all cylinders."
"OK. And this concerns me, how?"
"Because he said he was going to leave dead on time this afternoon, maybe even a bit early. He's got to get to the florist to pick up a special bouquet of sweet peas that he's ordered. And then he's got to get home and change. He's arranged a babysitter, and he's booked a table at their special restaurant down in King Street, and he's going to talk to Molly, forgive her everything and put the past into the past, and put his marriage back on track."
I gave a single word response, "Fuck!"
Piers smiled, relieved that he'd told me, "I think we both misunderstood him, don't you?"
I smiled, "I think we might." I was deep in thought.
Piers stood, watching me for a while, then asked "Are you going to phone Molly and warn her?"
I looked his way, "That's precisely what I'm thinking about. But No, I don't think I am. He's her husband. It's up to her to tell him that it's all over. And if she doesn't, and decides to go out dining with him, well I'll know where I stand, won't I?"
"Are you sure?" Piers asked, and looked very doubtful.
"Yes. One of the bits that I don't understand, that I'm having great difficulty with, is the relationship between Molly and Peter. OK, they got it together one afternoon, that's wrong, and I'm not sure I can forgive her that bit. But after that, if she never loved him, why did she go on to marry him? And if she can't get rid of him now, well....I don't know."
Just then Carole came in, "They're all in the Boardroom waiting for you. Or do you want them in here?"
"No, there aren't enough seats in here. And I want you there to keep minutes." I looked round at Piers, "Come on. I'm relying on you to keep this meeting effective. It's not a waffle shop, it's to take decisions."
I had a good afternoon, and at the end of it I was sitting at my desk, wondering if I'd done the right thing in not warning Molly. I was deep in those thoughts when I sensed that there was someone in the room. I looked around, it was Myra.
I smiled, "Hello, stranger. I haven't seen you for days."
She came and sat at my desk, "I was in London for a couple of days last week, and one day in Exeter. But I did try to catch you on Friday evening, but you'd gone."
"Sorry. I had to get to a little party for Jamie's birthday."
"Well...? Spill."
I realised that the last time I'd seen Myra it was to announce that Molly loved me, and I hadn't told her anything else.
Then a thought occurred to me, "What are you doing this evening?"
She looked suspicious, "Nothing. But should I be washing my hair or something? I've got a boyfriend you know."
"It's purely platonic, I assure you. No, it's just that you want to know my story. I need to eat, and I think I'd like some company this evening. So, why don't I combine all those and buy you dinner?"
She smiled, "OK."
"Let's take two cars down to King Street. We could go to that place we went to before. You can't miss it, its painted lime green."
OK, I thought. If Molly does accept Peter's invitation, then it'll be a nice surprise for them to find me and Myra having a little dinner together in their special restaurant.
We had a leisurely dinner. Although we agreed that we'd stick to one bottle of wine, we still chose to drink a glass before we even ordered any food. I refused to tell her anything of the Molly story until I asked how Myra was doing with Dr Will. Apparently that was going well, I suspected it was going a lot better than just well, by the smile and warm look in her eyes as she talked about him. But, I expect that she'll tell be all about it in good time.
Then, at her prompting, I told her Molly's story. Straight up, much as I'd told Carole, and Piers McBaine in his Scottish pub last week. I finished with telling her Carole's view that it was my duty to try to build something with Molly. I didn't tell her about Peter's little charade today, partly because I thought that if we did get some special fellow diners, it would look better if it was an accident, and partly because I didn't know what I thought of it myself. I was beginning to wonder whether Peter hadn't carefully devised his script to give me the wrong idea this morning, just out of malice.
She looked at me across the table, "So, what stops you trying?"
"Simple. It isn't worth it. Even if I could forgive her adultery, and even if I could understand why she married him, we are different people now. You just can't put it all back together. She's been another man's wife for four years, and I've travelled the world and done all sorts of things, most of which I probably shouldn't have, but ... too many experiences. We've changed."
Myra took a sip of wine, "OK." She paused in thought, then she looked up and smiled, "Change of subject. I don't think I've ever told you about me, about where I came from. We've talked about Jonathon, but not the me before that."
"No. You're right. What terrible secrets do you feel a need to confess?"
"None. Hard luck. I grew up with a Mum and ***, and a sister and a brother, in Bexleyheath. A very average middle class suburb of south London....."
"I don't know it."
"Well, take my word for it, it's OK and the people are nice enough, but it's average. Anyway, I had a special childhood friend. Her name was Tilly. Matilda actually, but she always called herself Tilly for obvious reasons. She was a week older than me, six days to be precise, and she lived a few doors away. I think our Mums met in ante-natal classes. Well, Tilly and I grew up like sisters. We went to the same nursery, then the same local schools. We even went to the same University. She studied Modern Languages, and I did my Business Administration degree. In our second and third years we shared a flat. We were so close."
"Am I meant to say Aah? Or are you going to admit that you are really a closet lesbian, and that Dr Will is really a dyke in drag?"
"None of the above." Then she smiled naughtily, "Except we did practice kissing for one afternoon, when we were about fourteen, just so that we wouldn't get it wrong when we got to boys."
I smiled, and she continued, "Well in our third year at Uni, Tilly met a Spanish guy. He was quite fit, but I soon learned that he had quite a reputation for love 'em and leave 'em. I tried warning her, but she just used to tell me I was jealous. It got to be a real problem between us, and I learnt to keep my mouth shut. I just prayed that they'd split up before she got really hurt."
"And so you learnt the art of diplomacy. Pity you don't practice it now." I said with a smile.
She poked her tongue out at me, and continued, "Then, in the summer term, Tilly told me that they were going to get engaged when they graduated, and get married soon after. I didn't know what to do. But I decided that there was little I could do, and I just hoped that he'd changed his ways. Then, one weekend, Tilly went home for some ****** do, and there was a party at Uni that I was going to go to. And, guess what? Her fiancé spent the whole evening trying to chat me up."
"And did you tell her?"
"No. I convinced myself that he'd ***** too much, and I chose to overlook it. But a couple of weeks later, we're all at another party, and this time he suggests that Tilly has agreed to a three in a bed romp. So, I did tell Tilly. I was pretty sure she'd agreed to no such thing, and I decided that it was time she knew what sort of man she was marrying."
I sipped some water, and prompted her, "And?"
"And we had the only screaming cat fight I've ever had in my life, right in the middle of the party. He, of course, denied ever saying anything to me, and she never spoke to me again."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It happened. What does Carole say? Shit happens? You can't always avoid it. Anyway, she married him, I wasn't even invited to the wedding. My parents were, I wasn't. And she went off to live in Spain with her new husband."
"And the moral of this story is...?"
"We haven't got that far yet. Last Christmas, that's seven years later, my Mum phoned me and said Tilly wanted to get in touch, and she'd given her my address. Sure enough she turned up on my doorstep some three days later."
"Was it a happy reunion?"
"Yes, it was. It turns out that I'd been right all along and she admitted it. He gave her a terrible time and they were divorced within three years. But she stayed on in Spain, and built a business of advising ex-patriots living there on language, culture and some of the laws. She employed German and Swedish speakers and had quite a business. She was a success."
"Good for her. So a lousy partner doesn't stop you being a good businessman or woman."
She ignored my interruption, "After a couple of years she met another man. A Brit as it happened, but he lived in Spain. And they'd fallen in love and it turned out he was a good bloke. And then she got pregnant, but that was fine. They were going to get married, and everything was rosy. But he got killed in an ETA terrorist attack. I suppose it isn't surprising, but she was so shocked and grief stricken that she lost the baby, she had a miscarriage."
"I'm sorry."
"So, in seven years, she'd argued and split with her best friend, married a lousy man, got divorced, built a business, fell in love, got pregnant, was widowed and had a miscarriage. That's some going in seven years."
"Yes it is. How was she after all that?"
"And this is my point. She was still exactly the same person that I grew up with. She still had the same sense of humour. She still had the same moral values. She still had the same way of glancing at me sideways when she pulled my leg. She still even smoothed her dress in the same way as she sat down. She was still Tilly, as I'd always known her." She paused and looked at me, "Chris, I'm sure there are a thousand and one reasons why you couldn't put it back together with Molly, but that you're different people isn't one of them."
I hadn't seen that one coming. I paused, wondering how to reply. I looked up, "Could you tell me some of the other reasons, I might need them."
She didn't see the funny side of my comment, "And that's your answer, is it?"
I looked at her, "No. I haven't the faintest idea what my answer is, but I'm sure that in time I will."
I looked at my watch, it was nearly half past nine, and the wine had run out long ago. I looked around the room, Peter and Molly hadn't shown up, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't now. So, I suggested I pay the bill, and that we go home.
As I drove home I thought: I want to find just one person who would be on my side. Someone who would say, 'Reconciliation? You must be fucking joking. Steer well clear of it. Build a good relationship with your sons and just get on with your life.' Just one person like that would be nice.
Not long after I got home, Ralph phoned me.
"Yes, Ralph?"
"Sorry to phone you so late, I tried earlier and you had it switched off."
"I was out for dinner, and I always try to switch it off when I can remember and I'm in a restaurant. Anyway, what can I do for you?"
"I was with Molly this afternoon. What happened to you on Saturday night? She's convinced something did, and she's as bad as she ever was about not having any right to interfere with your life."
"Well she's a bit late to decide that. But as for Saturday night, I'm sorry Ralph, but I'm going to say: Mind your own business."
"Was it a woman? Was it that Myra?"
"It's got nothing to do with you. To the best of my knowledge I'm a single guy with no commitments to anyone, including your ********."
"Well, I'm sorry, but when my ******** is upset that the man she loves, the man she's committed to, starts other relationships, then it is my business as far as I'm concerned."
I paused to choose my words, "Whatever happened on Saturday night has absolutely nothing to do with you, nor has it anything to do with your ********. Now, I suggest you get off the phone, before one of us says something that they regret. Tomorrow is Jamie's birthday, I'm meant to be taking Molly and the boys out to dinner. Now if Molly has problems with how I spend my Saturday nights, then she can tell me tomorrow. Good night, Ralph."
And I switched off the phone. Poured myself a whisky and calmed down.
Later, as I lay in bed that night, my mind didn't dwell on Ralph's little parental outburst. Instead my mind went over every possibility of what was happening between Molly and Peter. I was pretty sure that Molly would hate to make a scene, but I knew that the only version of events that would satisfy me was that Molly made it absolutely clear to him that the marriage was over, and one way or another, she would have her divorce.
The next morning Carole brought me my first coffee, and she just stood there looking at me, questioning me with her eyes.
"It's no good looking like that. I don't know what happened. I haven't heard from her. And I'm not going to chase her."
"Oh." Was her only comment.
"But if she phones, or some gossip comes in from the Abbey, then let me know." I shook my head, "I can't think about much else."
She smiled, "Shit happens."
As she turned to leave, I called her back, "One thing. I'm meant to be taking Molly and the two boys out for a ****** dinner tonight, it's Jamie's birthday today. Any ideas where I can take them? Molly's a bit wary that I've been feeding them too many burgers and pizzas, so do you know any restaurant where the food is both healthy and will appeal to a nine year old?"
She paused in thought, "Just one. I'd have to try and get the details, but one of the twins told be about a place where they specialise in all sorts of odd meats. You know, ostrich steaks and crocodile burgers. That might appeal."
I smiled, "Equally, it might make them sick. But it would be different. See if you can find it."
She turned to go and I called her back, "And can you find out what's happening at the football on Saturday. If it's possible, I'd like to take the boys. And while we're talking about Saturday, I'll move to my new flat in the morning. Could you check that everybody knows, and that it's OK. Please."
She smiled, "Can I go now?"
I smiled, "You'd better, before I think of some real work for you to do. That would interfere with you organising my private life."
Half an hour later she was back with my second cup of coffee. "You are welcome to take your sons to football on Saturday, but Sales are a bit concerned. There's plenty of room, but John Wheeler and Peter Barnes are using it to entertain Sir George Havers and a couple of his guys from Oxfordshire Health, and they aren't sure it will give a good impression with young boys running around."
I looked at her and wracked my brains, "I've met George Havers.....Yes, on the day Helene came. I had lunch with him, I don't remember a lot of it, my mind was elsewhere, but I do remember him raving about his grandchildren. Get him on the phone for me, would you?"
Two minutes later I was being put through to Sir George.
"George Havers."
"George, it's Chris Bennett at ITI Franks. I understand that we're entertaining you at the football on Saturday."
"Yes. Will you be there?"
"I hope so, but I was wondering if you could do me a big favour...."
"Like what?" He asked suspiciously.
"Well, I've sort of promised my two boys to take them to the football, and my sales people are a bit worried about not wanting a seven and nine year old running around. I was wondering if I could convince you to bring your grandchildren?"
It went quiet for a moment, then I heard a rumbling chuckle, "I don't know, Mr Bennett, you want me to make myself the best grandfather in the world, just because it suits you for me to do so, and we don't even do business. And what is more you seem to think that my poor son and his wife would like to be without their three sons on Saturday afternoon. And we both know how much parents hate the idea of having some private time to themselves. Well, if I must I must, I suppose."
I laughed, "Thank you so much. You get me out of an awkward situation. And tell your guys that if they want to bring some off-spring, then just tell them to get in touch with John Wheeler, just to make sure we've got space and can feed them all."
After I put the phone down I called Carole back. "No problem. George Havers is bringing his three grandsons. And there might be a couple of other requests for children. Can you let John know, and tell him that both he and Peter are welcome to bring young guests. It will seal a relationship with Oxfordshire Health ten times better than any sales presentation ever would."
My morning continued, still without any word of what had happened between Molly and Peter last night. Just before lunch, I was in my bathroom washing my hands, and I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, and I knew I would have to phone her on some pretext.
As I came out, I found Piers McBaine and Neil Davidson standing in the middle of my office, obviously waiting for me. I looked at them, "It's deja vu all over again. Take a seat gentlemen, and tell me what this is all about."
We sat down around the coffee table. It was Piers that started, "Well, you're right in that it is the same old problem. Peter didn't come into work this morning. We've had no word from him whatsoever."
Was that a good sign or a bad sign? I didn't know. But I did know I had to respond. "That's just simply unacceptable. He's a senior executive, he can't just go walkabout when it suits him."
It was Neil who answered, "No. We agree. And this is the second time it's happened in a matter of weeks. If he was a junior member of staff he'd be fast heading to being fired."
"Have we tried phoning him? Is it possible that something has happened to him?" I asked.
Piers replied, "I haven't tried. But Neil phoned his home and got Molly. She said she didn't know where he was. She'd seen him last night, but after that he'd gone off and she hasn't seen him since."
"Hmmm." Was all I said and looked at them both. But I was thinking: Well done Molly - probably.
Piers recognised my dilemma, "It's alright; I briefed Neil on things. He knows what Peter intended last night. That's why he phoned and not me, he could be innocent and just make an enquiry without getting involved in any other conversation."
I turned to Neil, "OK. What would happen to a junior if he behaved like this?"
"Well, it's a matter of judgement. If there's been a terrible car crash and their wife's been killed, then we are terribly flexible and tolerant. If it's that someone just has a hell of a hangover, then they're going to get a formal warning letter. And all points in between. But, we've never had it with anyone this senior before."
"What does his contract say?"
"Nothing on this problem, except that holidays are arranged by mutual agreement and proper notice."
"OK. Well, I can't see any reason to make any exception just because he thinks I've got some part in the story. I guess that's what he's relying on. That I will be tolerant. So, what do you suggest?"
Neil glanced at Piers, but answered, "That all time is off his holiday allowance or is unpaid. That he gets a formal warning letter, and if he's not back by Monday then he's fired. That's what we would do with any junior. It's tough, and if he'd phoned Piers and got some form of agreement, then things would be different."
Piers interrupted, "There is always a possibility that he can come in with a doctor's note that he's suffering from depression."
I reflected Neil's words, "Then things would be different. Can I suggest one other thing. My guess is he's gone off to their cottage in Wales again, it seems to be where he goes to sulk. Piers, I assume you've got his cell phone number." Piers nodded. "Well, give it to Neil and let him make a friendly but formal warning telephone call."
Piers turned to Neil, "Are you OK to do that?"
Neil didn't look too pleased, "No. It's not the sort of call that I look forward to, but I'll do it." Then he looked around at both myself and Piers, and stood up, "Well that's settled. Anyone coming to lunch?"
I answered, "No thanks. I was going to go to the canteen and sit at a random table. You know me."
Piers looked at me, "Can I make a suggestion? That you come over to the Abbey, and have lunch in the refectory there. A bit of damage control PR before there's any damage might not be a bad thing."
Neil added, "It sounds a good idea to me. If anything, encourage a bit of gossip that will allow you and Piers to explain that this is not your fault, whatever Peter Davies says. But, in fairness, we don't know that he has or will say anything."
I looked at Piers, "OK. But we'll go in separate cars, so that I can come back here after lunch."
Piers got to the Abbey first, and he was waiting for me when I arrived. But we separated to have lunch in the refectory. No one mentioned Peter Davies to me, but I did overhear Piers say to someone, that whatever was wrong with Peter Davies's marriage it certainly wasn't Chris Bennett's responsibility. I thought that word, responsibility, was an interesting choice. It might be my fault, I might be the cause of it, but it wasn't my responsibility.
After lunch I went back to Piers's office for a quick coffee. Naturally, he asked, "It sounds like Molly gave him the order of the boot. Any idea what you'll do?"
"I'm vaguely drifting to some ideas. I just can't see that we can put it all back together and pretend that Peter Davies never happened. If I'd known then what had happened, well I guess it would have been my job to get over it. People do all sorts of stupid things, office parties, anger, depression and drunken moments. And if they are a one off, and lessons are learnt, then I think it's a challenge to get over it and rebuild things, assuming there's nothing else wrong with the marriage. But what bugs me, what I really can't explain, is why in the world did she go on to marry him? That's so wrong and just plain stupid."
"Maybe her mother was a bigger influence than you realise."
"No. First, she was still a free thinking responsible adult. You can't just blame the mother. And second, if that was true, don't you think that Molly would be clinging to it as an excuse? She doesn't believe it was all Susan's fault, so why should I?"
Piers shook his head, "But, if your not going to try and rebuild something, then I guess it's all academic anyway."
I looked at him, "Not quite. I begin to think that I'm drifting to some idea that I should put a bit of effort into trying to build some relaxed, supportive relationship with her." I shrugged, "I've got to see that she's got a proper home, and that the boys have got a decent life. That is my responsibility. It's just getting the relationship right between myself and Molly."
Piers looked at me for a long time, "Hmmm. It's interesting, isn't it? How would you go about trying to build a relationship with someone you used to be married to, years earlier? Counselling?"
"No way. First, I doubt whether any counsellor is trained in trying to pick up the pieces of a five year old rift and divorce, and put it half back together, to a friendship level. Second, I'm not having a counsellor walking all over my private life. Third, if Molly and I can't talk honestly to each other, then why are we bothering?"
"OK. But I suspect some periods of formal talking, exchanges of views and information, would be sensible....."
And after that, Piers and myself went into an almost academic exercise of how to put a relationship back together. We even started writing on his white board, with headings like Emotions, Sex, Needs, Wants, and time allocations for various things. It only took ten minutes, it wasn't particularly deep, but it was useful in getting my mind into gear.
But then I came back to where we started, "But, there is no point if I can't understand how the hell she married him. I could work at understanding or accepting the original adultery, and that's a fairly big obstacle to get over in itself, but not her being married to him for four years. It just makes her the sort of person that I don't want to know."
Piers did one of his long, thoughtful stares, "But you do want to know....." Again he paused, and then brighten up, "I'm under the cosh at home, or will be when Jeanette gets back from being a grandmother at the weekend, to get you to come to dinner again."
"I'd love to. But you must let me entertain you this time. Somewhere in Bath, you must have a favourite."
"Well, how about... I don't know...Saturday of next week? I'm up at Ester's this weekend, and Jeanette will come home with me. So, why not come round to our place early evening on the following Saturday, and I'll have booked something by then?"
"It's a date." And I left him, and I headed back to the office.
As I came into Carole's office, she handed me the usual sheaf of notes, and then an extra one: "That's the restaurant I told you about. I've actually booked you a table for four people at seven o'clock. I guessed that'd be about right. But I can change it or cancel it."
"No. Let's make the birthday boy face a challenge. Thanks, it sounds... different?"
And so I was ringing Molly's doorbell to take them all for dinner, not long gone six o'clock. She opened the door, and when she saw it was me, she sort of fell into my arms, shaking and crying.
"Hey! What's the matter? Talk to me, tell me."
I led her into the kitchen, but when I went to guide her to a chair, she just said, "No. Hold me, just hold me. I'll be alright in a moment."
So I held her, and eventually she stopped sobbing and did sit down.
She smiled weakly at me, "Sorry about that, I've had a bit of a twenty four hours..."
Just then Ben came bouncing into the room, "Hi, Daddy. Are we going then?"
"Hold on a few minutes, Mummy needs to tell me something. Go and find Jamie and play until I come and get you. OK?"
"OK." He said, rather sulkily, but he did go, looking at his mother, but not saying anything.
After he'd left, I looked at her, "OK. What's happened?"
"It started last night. On Saturday, the letter for Peter from my solicitor arrived. And I put it under his door. Well, he came home last night, and the first thing I knew was him standing in here, with a huge bunch of sweet peas in one hand and the letter in the other, and asking what it meant. And I told him I needed to know what were his intentions about our marriage. I didn't say that I wanted him to divorce me, I thought I'd go gently."
"OK" I said.
"And he said his intentions were to forgive me everything. That he loved me, and that we had a wonderful marriage until you came back into the picture. And he was sure he could get used to you being around, and that he wanted everything to go back as it was. And he handed me the sweet peas."
"Oh! So what did you do?"
"I told him that he'd been right all along, that I did love you. And I thought the marriage was over. But he then seemed to go into panic mode. He said that it was all a passing obsession. That you didn't love me. That he knew we'd spoken, and you hadn't taken me back, and couldn't I see that you never would, and....." She trailed off into some tears.
I filled the pause, "But whether we get back together or not is irrelevant. Your marriage to him is wrong. It always has been. And it has to be ended."
She looked at me, "I know. I know. And that's what I told him. But he wouldn't have it. He seemed to be demanding that I had to stay married to him. That he needed me so much, that I didn't have any say in the matter. I ended up saying that if he didn't divorce me, then I'd divorce him. I think that brought him up with a jerk. But then he started blaming you. That you'd put me up to it...."
"Which in some ways is true."
"No, you only prompted me to do something that's needed doing for ages. Anyway, he was ranting and saying how much he loved me and that I loved him really, then he was crying and sobbing. He went down on his knees and begged me to give him another chance. I said there was no point, but I felt awful. It was horrid."
"So how did it end?"
"It ended when Trisha Marsden from over the road knocked at the door. He answered it and he led her away, and never came back. I locked the doors, so that at least he'd have to knock and I would have some warning."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know. Neil Davidson phoned this morning and asked where he was. Apparently he hadn't gone into work. That worried me, so I went and looked, he wasn't in the gym, and his car has gone. I guess he's gone to Wales. But I haven't phoned."
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, I went down the directory and found Neil Davidson and pressed Dial. Thank you Carole for loading all useful numbers into my directory.
"Neil Davidson."
"Neil, it's Chris. Did you trace Peter Davies?"
"Yes you were right. He's at their holiday cottage."
"And did you tell him that he's on thin ice?"
"Yes. I gave him quite a talking to, I tried to make it sympathetic and understanding, but with a tough bottom line. I told him that if he wasn't back by Monday, then he'd be fired."
"What did he say?"
"That we'd have to wait until fucking Monday to find out if he fucking cared, and if he wanted to work for that fucking bastard. I assume you are the bastard in question."
I paused before I replied, "I suppose I owe him. I give Scotch to people who call me a fucking bastard. Hasn't Piers told you? But I think I'll just stay as a fucking bastard for him, no whisky."
"I'd heard. And Yes, I'd skip it with him, if I were you."
"Thanks Neil." And we rang off.
I looked at Molly. "It's alright. He hasn't done anything stupid. He is in Wales."
She half smiled, "I guess he's in trouble at work."
"Yes he is. We can't have senior guys just not coming in when they don't feel like it."
"No, you probably can't. There's a little boy element in Peter. But I didn't think he'd do anything stupid. Peter is totally opposed to suicide in circumstances like these. I guessed he'd just gone to Wales."
"Anyway, you should have phoned me last night. Not that there was a lot I could do or say."
"No. It was something that I had to do. It was just horrible, I hated seeing him like that. He does love me, and it wasn't nice."
"No, it probably wasn't. I'm sorry, but you did the right thing." I paused, and for a moment our eyes connected, "So, that was yesterday. What happened today?"
"Susan turned up at about four o'clock to give Jamie his birthday present."
"How is she?"
"Fit, well and unrepentant. She sort of arrived as if everything was normal. It was odd."
"And?"
"And I showed her into the sitting room, where the boys were watching television. She gave Jamie his present, and that was odd, he unwrapped it and it was a game for an X-Box. But Jamie doesn't have an X-Box, so I didn't understand."
"What did she say?"
"She seemed surprised that he didn't have an X-Box. She seemed to think that he was having one for his birthday. I don't know where she got that idea."
"I do." I said, "I've just remembered something Carole said." I paused and looked at her and took her hand; I wasn't sure how she was going to react to what I was going to say, "Peter came to see me in my office yesterday. He came to tell me that he was going to forgive everyone and move on with his life. I really thought that he had accepted the idea of divorce, and had learnt to live with it. Apparently he went to see Piers, and gave him the same impression. But, I thought he looked fit and well. And apparently Carole thought the same, only she mentioned it, and he said it was sea air that had done him good. I didn't think about it at the time, but you don't get a lot of sea air halfway up a Welsh mountain, but you do in Weymouth."
Her lips thinned, and her eyes hardened, "They got together over the weekend. I bet it was her that put him up to last night's attempted reconciliation. And she thought he was going to give Jamie an X-Box." She paused, and then stood up and got herself a glass of water, "I asked her, did she meet with Peter before we were married? She wouldn't actually answer that. She said that all she did was for the best, that she wanted me to be happy. How could she, she's my mother? So much for motherly love and maternal instincts."
"How did you leave it?"
She shrugged, "I told her to phone next time before she comes to visit. I think that shocked her, we always had an easy come and go relationship before. She started to protest that she was their grandmother, that she had a right to see them. But I just said it would be more convenient if she phoned ahead of time in future. Whether she will or not....." she shrugged again.
We paused, in silence. There didn't seem to be much I could say. I did think that I would have to tell her that I had wind of Peter's reconciliation attempt and that I'd chosen to do nothing. But, I'd leave that for another day.
I went over and gave her a quick hug. "Are you going to be alright? Or shall I tell Jamie that he's going to have to wait for another night?"
"No. Come on. I need to freshen up, but it will be good for me and help me to stop thinking. My brain's in overload."
Eventually, we got to the restaurant, and it turned out to be better and more fun that I was expecting. As is the way of these things, the only one not to eat an unusual meat was the birthday boy, Jamie. Molly had crocodile, I had ostrich, and Ben had a bison burger, although I suspect that had more to do with burger than bison. But, what did Jamie want? Lasagne! But it was his birthday, and we didn't argue. I gave him my present, and he seemed really pleased with the books, until gave him the Ipod, which seemed far more exciting.
Of course, I should have known, Carole had done her thing. Unordered, Jamie got a big birthday ice cream, with candles and sweets all over it.
As I sat there, I could have got very sentimental about how happy it all was. I had to give myself a good mental talking to. There can be four of us in a ******, but there are only two of us in a marriage, and marriages have to last when the ****** has grown up.
When we got back, Ben was hustled off to bed, but Jamie was given half an hour on the computer to see if he could find some music to download. Of course, half an hour wasn't long enough, and he put up quite a fight to have longer, but he lost. I was rather pleased to see that he went into his bedroom with one of his new Harry Potter books, with clear instructions that he was only allowed to read one chapter before his light had to go off.
Once the boys were in bed, Molly got out a bottle of wine. Suddenly remembrance of that Sunday night, so long ago, when I got out a bottle of wine, determined to talk about something that was wrong in my ****** hit me. It took all my inner strength to not just walk away.
I looked at Molly, "Are you going to be alright?"
"Yes. I hope he doesn't come back and make ugly scenes. It was a bit scary. I hadn't seen him like that before. There were a few minutes when he was quite manic."
"Why don't you go and live with Ralph? They've got a big house. And you are both in this together in some ways, from the Susan aspect of it all."
She paused and thought about that, before almost musing, "I wonder what he'll do?"
I assumed she meant Ralph and I remembered him talking to me, "He told me that he'd forgive her, and that they'd sort something out."
"But everything we find out seems to show her up more. I'm not sure what to do about her. I don't want to break up with my own mother, but.....I'm having real difficulty. It would help if I knew just how much she got up to, how much she influenced me."
"Those are unanswerable questions. Look, I'd be happier if you went to live with Ralph, with or without Susan. Can't you check with your solicitor that there's no great implications of you moving out, and subject to that, move over there. You'd have a built in babysitter."
She looked at me, pleading in her eyes, "Do I need somewhere else to live? Couldn't we have somewhere?"
I guess something showed in my eyes, because she suddenly retracted, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't push you. I know that. It's just....."
"It's just that you will have to give me time. More time. It's been nearly five years. A week or two isn't going to make much difference." I tried smiling reassuringly, "But I am just beginning to shape up some ideas that may not be all you think you want, but somehow will be a darn sight better than we've got now, and is a fresh start."
She looked up sharply, keenly interested, "Is that it? You can't just say something like that and not tell me."
"Yes I can. I have to, I haven't thought it all out myself yet. It's just that I feel we have to do something that'll give Jamie and Ben some security, but I don't know how or what. I thought you'd be pleased that I am trying to make some progress in my thoughts."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I keep forgetting how hard all this is for you. I know what I want, and it's hard to realise that you have doubts. Please just remember that I love you and I'd do anything to be given a second chance."
I smiled, "I could challenge you on that 'anything', but I'm scared you just might."
"You could have come round and challenged me on Saturday night. What happened?"
"And that's precisely it. There is no way I could come round here and just do what I did on Saturday night. I went out, knowing that I wanted sex. Good old fashioned, uncomplicated sex. And I met a charming woman who I liked, but don't care about and will never meet again. And we had good old fashioned sex. And it was great. There was no future in it, I doubt whether we liked each other enough to have gotten past Sunday lunch even if we'd tried our hardest. It was meaningless, wonderful, relaxing, refreshing sex. Now, there is no way I could get that with you. It would be meaningful, and at the moment, it certainly wouldn't be relaxing or refreshing. Every minute would have been invested with emotion and pressure. And you know damn well it would."
It was quiet for a moment, Molly had gone very pale, and then she asked, "Is that what you meant by you've changed. That we can't ever get together, that you're a different person now? You're someone who goes out on a Saturday night and picks up a total stranger for meaningless sex?"
"No. No way. I was completely faithful to you. You know I was. I was completely faithful to Helene when we were together. That's the sort of person I am, and when I'm committed to a relationship, then I like it that way. It isn't an effort, I don't want anyone else. But, just in case you've forgotten, at the moment I'm not committed."
Again we fell to silence, which I broke, "Ralph phoned me last night. He said you were all upset about your suspicions of what I did on Saturday evening. I'm sorry I hurt you, you should know I would never purposely do that. But it was nothing to do with you. I'm a bachelor and I went out on Saturday and I got lucky, I got laid, and that was exactly what I wanted to happen. I'm sorry that you guessed and got hurt by it."
"You could have come round here. I long for you. Do you know what I did on Saturday night? I rubbed myself and thought of you. I love you, I want you, and it's hateful that you're out there looking for something that I'd give you freely and with love."
"And with strings attached. It's inevitable. And anyway, you're married. I'm sorry, but you are, and that sticks in my throat. I don't do it with married women." I paused, and as she didn't respond, I added, "Look. If I ever do get committed to you again, in any way, then I promise, it will be completely natural for me to be one hundred percent totally faithful to you. But, until then, I'm sorry, but I am a free agent."
We looked at each other, and I could read in her eyes that she understood, but that I had hurt her. I felt guilty about that for no logical reason that I could see.
I tried smiling, "If I'd known you were letting your hands do the walking, well I might have come round to watch that."
She smiled, "Watching is a privilege of commitment."
"Told you." I smiled, and then changed subject, "Is it OK if I take the boys to football on Saturday. It's a mixture of business entertaining and a fun afternoon out."
"Sure. Can you pick them up from here, but bring them back to Ralph's. I promised to go over there."
"Sure."
And that was the way we left it.
Nothing much happened for the rest of the week. Peter didn't come back to work, so finding out whether he'd turn up on Monday was going to be critical. Nobody gave me helpful advice or preached little homilies at me, which made a pleasant change. And I got through all the way to Saturday without a problem. It was almost like a holiday in itself.
On Saturday, the football went well with all the children. In fact it was a great success, and John Wheeler started talking about holding ****** days for the clients and prospects. My boys loved it, and as soon as I got them back to Ralph's, they had to tell him all about it.
He stood there in the middle of his front lawn with his arms around both of them as they jabbered away, but he looked at me, in the eyes, "I'm sorry about Monday night. I think I was a little over-protective."
I just said, "Forgiven. I understand. Things must be a bit stressed for you too."
"But you should think things through a bit better. You have to realise, whether you like it or not, several peoples' happiness is dependent on you."
I turned away, "Thanks. Just what I didn't want to know."
I found Molly in Ralph's kitchen. I didn't have a lot to say. I told her that I'd moved my stuff over to my new flat that morning, and I gave her the new address. She immediately asked if she could see it, and I felt fairly relaxed about that, and said I'd give her a ring.
Somewhere in that conversation, Ralph came in and put the kettle on for a cup of tea, and invited me to stay.
"No thanks. I'll leave you in peace." I looked at Molly, "Just one thing. I've remembered that when I took Jamie to the Zoo last Sunday, just as he'd asked, he told me that it wasn't the zoo he'd wanted to go to. He said he had memories of going to what sounded like a safari park or something with you and Peter. It must have been some time ago, because Ben couldn't remember it. Any ideas?"
She immediately blushed and looked guilty, "Yes. It was Longleat. You know Lord Bath's place over at Warminster." She gulped and looked at me, "It was before our divorce was finalised. Peter had been nagging that he wanted to take us all on a day out. I think he was wanting to show that he could be a ****** man. But I kept turning him down."
I noticed Ralph was obviously trying to show that he was not listening to this story, but equally obviously he was listening intently.
"But...?" I prompted.
"Well then he turned up at my desk at the Hospital and said he'd just won a ****** Ticket for Longleat in some charity raffle. Well, I still turned him down. But, Susan kept nagging, and in the end, I agreed to go. I thought the boys deserved a break, they didn't need to be trapped at home with weepy me all the time. So we went. And everyone had a great time, except that I cried when I got home. I'd just had a great ****** time with the wrong ****** man. Oh why couldn't I see it then?"
Suddenly, Ralph said, "Just a minute.." and he disappeared off, leaving Molly and myself looking at each other in bewilderment. He came back with three big box files.
He looked at us, "I guess I should explain. For the last couple of days I've been thinking, getting paranoid I guess, if Susan could lie to me about what she did to interfere with you two, what else had she lied about? So, I've been going through all our old household accounts. Credit cards, phone bills, bank statements, just trying to see if there are any surprises. To be honest I never check any of them when they come in. We live well within our means, lots of things are paid by direct debit, and all I do is keep filing the papers."
"Don't feel guilty. I'm worse these days. I get Carole to file them for me." I said reassuringly.
"Well, I started with the phone bills, checking her itemised accounts. I can go back six years would you believe? I just keep putting new months on top until the file is full, then I take a year out from the bottom."
He suddenly pulled out a sheaf of itemised phone listings. With several lines per page highlighted with a hi-lite pen.
"These are the for the period you two were splitting up. She was phoning Peter three or four times a week then. Some days she'd phone him three times in one day. That shows you the level of their collusion. I'm sorry."
He handed the papers to Molly, "You might like to check them, some dates may jog your memory; explain something she said....Anyway, I moved on to the credit cards. There was nothing particularly inexplicable there. A few charges around my birthday and Christmas that I didn't immediately recognise. The rest is petrol bills and supermarkets."
He looked up at me and smiled, "And No, there aren't any bills from seedy motels or anything like that. But there was one unexplained charge, from Longleat, would you believe?"
He opened the third box, and pulled out what was obviously a set of Bank Statements. "And here is her clearing the cheque for exactly the same amount that Peter obviously repaid her with." He held up the page, pointing to another highlighted line.
Both Molly and I reacted at the same time, and both said something similar, "So she bought the ****** Ticket. Gave it to him and he then paid for it. And he said he'd won it in a raffle."
There was a long silence, which eventually I broke, "Well I guess it doesn't tell us anything really new. We all suspected something, maybe not quite this proactive on her part, but something. I suppose it's nice to have proof."
Molly interjected, "But it also shows that Peter was lying to me. That my relationship with him is based on lies. I just don't know what to believe anymore. I don't know how much I was manipulated." She sounded very bitter.
I looked at Ralph, he was deep in thought, "Ralph?"
"Sorry. I don't think I can answer that. I wish I could. I wish I'd known. All I remember is Susan being so insistent that we mustn't interfere. I really thought she was visiting Molly just to help, to be there, to lend a neutral ear, and to cook supper for the boys. Only once did she show any favouritism, one evening we were talking and she sang the praises of Peter. What an exceptionally kind and tolerant man he must be to be willing to court Molly when she was so upset about you, Chris. But I thought that was just a private conversation."
There was a long silence, broken by Ralph suddenly saying, "God! I'm so sorry." And he rushed out of the room, with his hand over his face.
I looked at Molly. "I don't think there's much more to be said, or certainly not by me. Maybe you should go and see your father, and I'll go." I kissed her on the cheek and left.
