Back to Bristol Ch. 15

As I drove to Molly's on Bank Holiday Monday morning I had my day planned. I would take the boys out to Longleat Safari Park. And then, when I got back, I would ask Molly if we could talk. Maybe, I'd go out and get a Chinese or something for after the boys have gone to bed. Then we could have a serious talk about talks. About how we might structure some meetings where we could talk about all that's happened, and what we wanted in the future, sort of counselling sessions without a counsellor. I wouldn't commit to anything else, no romance, no sex, just serious talking. And I would make it clear that our best hope was that we could come out of it as friends, true friends. No more and no less.

I knocked on Molly's door as quietly as a could, I had no idea whether Peter was just the other side of the window. She answered it and she was looking good, better than I'd seen her for some time. She was just wearing a pretty cotton blouse and a pair of linen trousers, but she looked fresh and wholesome, and yes, sexy.

I looked sideways at the gym, she smiled, "It's OK. I think he's gone to Wales for the weekend. He's gone anyway."

"Good."

"I haven't told them where you're taking them. But I'm sure they'll love it. The weather looks good for a day out...."

Just then, Jamie came out, and I said, "With help from your Mother, we reckon your other zoo was Longleat. I thought we could go there for the day. How does that sound?"

He looked at me, and then took an earpiece from his Ipod out and said "What?"

"You don't say: What? You say: I beg your pardon." And I repeated myself, by which time Ben had joined us.

Jamie looked pleased, but it was Ben who said, "Is Mummy coming?"

I looked at Molly, and I thought: Well why not? And I said, "Yes. Of course Mummy can come, if she wants to."

Molly's face lit up. "I'll just pick up my things." And she turned back into the house. The boys and I started to walk back to my car in the parking area, and we were almost at the car when Molly caught us up.

It was the ever-direct Ben who said, "If Mummy's coming, can we go in her car? It's better in the back than yours ***."

I looked at her, "You'd have to drive. My insurance won't cover your car."

"Not a problem" she said and we headed towards the garages.

As she drove along, I wondered if I'd just done the right thing. Would I be able to get through the day without conceding to the meaningful, questioning looks, and the pregnant pauses that I suspected I was about to be subjected to? But with luck, two boys would keep us from having a proper conversation.

"I had dinner with Piers and Jeanette last night." I said, to make some neutral conversation.

"Oh Yes? How are they?"

"They're very fit and well, and they're grandparents."

"Ester's had her baby. What was it?"

"A little boy, called Edward."

"And are they pleased?"

I laughed, "Pleased isn't the word...." And we chatted happily about the McBaines, grand parenting, and even malt whisky.

Then I remembered, "Jeanette said you were to give her a call. She'd like to see you."

Molly's face fell, I could see that even as she drove along, looking straight ahead. "It's alright. I've told them everything. Or nearly everything. I kept it clean. But they know all about Peter and Susan's little games."

"What did they say about that?"

"Nothing actually. Now you come to mention it, they didn't really criticise either of them. But I don't think they approved."

I glanced into the back, from whence strange noises were coming. Jamie was totally absorbed with his Ipod, and there was a regular Pshoosh Pshoosh coming from his corner. Ben was playing some electronic hand held game, with occasional Pings and Dong-Dong-Dong-Dong noises. I think Molly and myself could have discussed anything we liked without being overheard, as long as it didn't include any sexual or swear words, for which little boys seem to have radar.

I decided to at least ask after Susan, "How do you feel about what she did?"

Molly's face clouded, "Who? I don't have a Mother, or not anymore."

I laughed, and she glanced sideways at me, "I mean it. I honestly don't think I want to know her. Even if she apologised, I don't think I could ever forgive her. I've thought about it a lot, I really think I'd be happier if I never see her, never have to talk to her, ever again. I don't know how I'm going to deal with her when she comes back to Bristol."

I thought about telling her that her parents were likely to get divorced, but decided that it was not my job. So all I said was, "Cross your bridges when you come to them."

"Yes. Maybe Ralph could just come to visit me and the boys without her."

I knew how deeply she felt about this, and I must say I wholeheartedly agreed with her, but it seemed so sad, and possibly damaging in the future.

It was an hour's drive, but we were sitting in the queue to get to the ticket office when Molly turned to me, "Chris, you'll have to forgive me today if sometimes I seem a bit quiet. I've got used to living with moments of sadness in the last few years, when I felt guilt or sorrow at what happened. But this'll be the first time when I've been with you when I'm likely to get sad at something I did with Peter."

I gave her knee a squeeze, "It's OK. Just talk about it, and then leave it all behind."

She smiled weakly, "I can't leave it all behind until I've put it right."

Here we go! I thought, the start of the campaign for today. So, being a devout coward, I got out of the car to go and buy a ticket at the ticket office.

When I got back to the car she seemed brighter, and we had a really good trip through the animal enclosures. Jamie even took his Ipod out of his ears, so it must have been good. We didn't get many monkeys or apes climbing over the car, and not from lack of wishful thinking by the two boys. In the lion enclosure we did have a beautiful lioness decide she'd take a stroll down the road just in front of our car, which pleased our back seat passengers.

After we'd finished all the animal enclosures, we drove around to the car park where I had words with Jamie as to how he could leave his Ipod in the car whilst we had lunch and enjoy the afternoon. Having won that one, we went off to find somewhere to eat.

The boys were well ahead of us when Molly said, "I like it that you tell Jamie off when necessary. Peter was always scared to do so. It was always me that had to say No. He said that they were my children, and my responsibility. I think it was more about him not wanting to be disliked."

I just said, "He's my son, I care about him. And I care about us as a ******."

"So where are you in your thinking about how to put it back into some sort of order?"

I watched the boys and judged our walk, I guessed we had five minutes before we got to the restaurant, "Well, I've been thinking about suggesting that we meet regularly, say two nights a week, to talk. Just talk. Well, maybe we could eat as well. But to talk about what happened, what we felt, what we want. Anything and everything, I guess. But semi-formal talking, across a table or facing each other in easy chairs."

I glanced at her, but she was just listening intently. "We could use my place. I'm sure Ralph could baby-sit for some of the time, and maybe you know of a suitable babysitter, I'd pay." Again I paused, but she still didn't react, so I added, "It's only an idea. What do you think?"

She looked at me, "No counselling?"

"No. I thought I'd made that clear. It doesn't appeal to me at all."

"Would you mind if I talked to a counsellor in parallel? It's just that I seem to be carrying such a lot of baggage, and I'm very tempted to talk to Heather."

"Not a problem. If you think it'll help, then go for it."

"OK. What do you think these talks would achieve? There is no point in doing anything if you don't know what you're trying to achieve."

"What I said before, that somewhere along the line we find a way of forgiving, of being friends, of being able to get on with our lives."

She stopped and turned towards me, "Then, No."

Now that was a surprise. I wasn't surprised about the idea of a counsellor and I could have lived with her wanting to change the frequency, or the location, or putting something out of limits. But not a simple No? "Why not?"

"Well, you've been very clear as to what you want. So, I'll be very clear. I'm not prepared to put in a lot of effort, accept what will probably be fairly painful in parts, for an objective that I don't want. I love you, I always have. I won't start something that doesn't give me the opportunity to win you back. You may be looking for friendship, I'll be looking for partnership and a lover. I want my husband back."

"You've got one of those at the moment." I said, and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, that was cheap." I glanced round, "Come on, we'd better catch up the boys."

There are times when you can do nothing right. In the restaurant, I was just explaining to Ben that he couldn't have a burger again, when Molly caught us up. She whispered to me, "Go on, let him. We're on a fun day out, and they are proper burgers made from proper beef. In fact I think I'll have one as well." At that point, Jamie chose burger as well, so we ended up with all of us having them. And they were very good.

At lunch, it was Ben who looked up and simply asked, "Have you said you're sorry yet ***?"

I looked up, "No. But I am."

Molly just had to ask, "You're sorry for what?"

"The boys have a theory, that if I say sorry for whatever I did wrong that split us up, then you'd divorce Peter and let me come back to live with you all. Apparently it worked for Dingo Roberts's ***."

Molly turned to the boys, "It isn't your Daddy who should say sorry, it's me. He did nothing wrong, I did. And I hope, one day, that he'll forgive me."

That threw it back into my court. "And I want you two to realise that I really do hope that one day I can forgive your Mummy. But just because I get to forgive her, doesn't mean that we can all live together for ever and ever. But, both of us love both of you very much, and we will try to make sure that whatever happens you are loved and safe and see a lot of both of us."

Ben looked up, "I don't really remember you being at home, ***. So it's not really a problem."

"I remember. It was before Mummy married Peter. And it was better, a lot better. And Mummy is divorcing Peter now....." Jamie suddenly looked at me, he was pleading with me with his eyes. But I don't know what he read in mine, but he tailed off, ".....Whatever..."

God! I felt lousy!

Of course, as soon as we'd finished eating the boys wanted to be off. So, I suggested to Molly that we find a seat in the sunshine, and let the boys run around on the grass for a while.

Once we were seated, I said, "OK. I don't think my idea closed off any opportunity for you, in fact I would have thought it would have given you opportunity. But let's put some more structure on it. Now, none of this is in tablets of stone, it is only an idea, but how about we meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays say at my place. That leaves the weekends free for me to see the boys, maybe sometimes that's ****** time and sometimes it just me and them, we could play that by ear. And it would mean that if we really wanted to get together as a couple, well the traditional Friday and Saturday nights would still be there."

"If you're not out enjoying yourself with no commitments. Or Myra doesn't need a dinner bought for her." Molly still sounded bitter.

"Leave Myra out of it. She is a friend and nothing more. I've told you that, and if you can't accept it, then why are we bothering?"

"Sorry." She said, urgently retracting.

"And as for the other bit, well I'll commit to you and this process, therefore excluding the other, until we get to some point where we both agree it's beyond hope."

She grimaced, "I suspect it's going to seem beyond hope so often. It isn't going to be easy."

"No. OK. Well, why don't we both promise that however rough it gets, and however the evening ends, we'll be there the next time come what may. Even if you storm out in tears, or I show you the door, come the next Tuesday or Thursday, we're back. Until we both agree that it isn't working, and we have to consider the alternative."

I paused, expecting a response, there wasn't one, "Look, just think about it. And you can see this Heather woman at the same time."

I sat and looked at her, she just looked back, searching my face for I don't know what. After a pause, I stood up and said, "Come on, lets go and see some of the other things while you think about it. I suggest that we do the house as the sort of last thing, the wind down. I believe there's a restaurant in there, in the cellars, that does cream teas. That should get the boys in."

I looked round, Ben and Jamie were heading dangerously towards the edge of the lake, "Come on you two, let's go and see something else. Who wants to get lost in the maze?"

The boys started heading back towards me, and I looked round for Molly. She was still sitting on the bench. I suddenly realised something was wrong and I ran back the short distance. She was sitting there, as I'd left her, but with tears pouring down her face, and shaking with huge sobs.

"Hey, what's the matter?" I sat down next to her and she sort of curled into me as I put an arm around her. The boys came up and just stood and watched, staring at their mother.

I felt inside my pocket and found some coins, "Here, go and get yourselves an ice cream each." And I gave Jamie the money.

I just held her, "Come on, tell me. What's the matter? I just suggested a way forward, I thought it was what you wanted. Alter it, leave it a bit and think about it, and then change it. It really was only an idea."

She just went on crying, and I went on holding her. Eventually, I felt the sobs subside. And in a little voice, she said, "There was an advert on the telly recently. It was a woman crying her heart out in her husband's arms. Sitting on a seat like this. And there was a voice over talking about how devastating the news of having cancer was, having to say goodbye to your children, your loved ones. It was an appeal for research funds by one of the cancer charities. Only at the end do you realise that she is crying with happiness, that she's been given the all clear and she's in remission, that the threat has been lifted. That's how I feel, that maybe, just maybe, I can get my life back. That I have a chance."

I saw the boys coming back with there ice creams. "Come on. Blow your nose and put on a smile, we're meant to be enjoying ourselves."

She ignored me, but urgently asked, "You did mean it, didn't you? That we'll meet twice a week, just you and me, and that we can talk about anything? And that we'll keep doing it for as long as it takes? And that we can have some more ****** days like this? You meant it didn't you?"

"Yes. I meant it. Promise."

The boys arrived, and Jamie asked, "Are you alright, Mum?"

She looked at him, "Yes. I'm very alright. Your Daddy has said that he'll talk to me, and give me a chance to get him to forgive me."

"You'll have to say you're very, very sorry." Suggested Ben.

"Oh, he already knows that. But I was very, very naughty, and I hurt your Daddy very much. And he's very angry with me, but I promise you, I'll try to make him believe how sorry I am, and try to make him come home to us."

Damn! Now I'll be the bad guy when they don't get the fairytale ending. If she'd seen the look in Jamie's eyes at lunchtime, she would never have said that. She shouldn't have raised their expectations so much.

"He doesn't look very angry." Ben argued.

"No he doesn't. But I hurt your Daddy very, very badly, deep down inside. And it will take me a long time to convince him that I am really sorry, and that it is safe for him to come home to us. But I will, I promise you I will. And I don't want you to nag him, because it will take weeks and weeks to make it all better." She looked at me, "I promise you I will make it safe for you to come home, I will. I've got to."

I wasn't going to argue in front of the boys, "We'll talk and we'll see."

For the rest of the afternoon we did the rest of the attractions. For the maze we split into two pairs, Molly with Jamie and Ben with me. Jamie and Molly got to the centre first, and then got out first. Jamie swore that he knew the secret, so we had to do it again, only this time it was the boys versus the parents. And, sadly, it was the boys that won. Jamie had a most complicated theory, which seemed to have more to do with Harry Potter than logic, and certainly had nothing to do with Luck, which was my theory.

For the whole afternoon, being with Molly was like being with a besotted teenager. She couldn't stop smiling, and I don't think she took her eyes off me once. And when we walked side-by-side her hand dangled so conveniently, just in case I needed to hold it.

By the time we went into Longleat House, I had to say something. "I feel like a pop star who's got a personal groupie. Ease up or I'll get embarrassed and run away."

I obviously couldn't say anything to upset her. She smiled, "Oh, it's just that I feel so excited, so frustrated. I want to grab you and kiss you and hug you, and I can't. I want to pop bottles of champagne and drink to our health and happiness."

"Well I never object to drinking champagne. But all we've agreed to do is start a process that will probably be the hardest, most uncomfortable thing we've ever done. And neither of us has any idea how it will end. You shouldn't be so hopeful with the boys. I'm sure they would love us to get back together, and I still don't think that's very likely."

She smiled, "It's guaranteed."

There was no arguing with her. So I didn't bother to try.

When we got back to their house, Molly and myself were in the kitchen whilst she got the boys something to eat, and generally chatting about our day, when there was a knock at the kitchen door.

Molly opened it, and there was Peter. He came in and immediately saw me.

"Oh. It's you." He said, obviously disappointed.

There was an instant bad atmosphere, and Molly spoke first, "What do you want, Peter?"

He looked at her, "I was hoping that we could have that talk this evening." He glanced at me, "Before it's too late."

"There's no point."

"What's he doing here anyway? This is still my house and I don't want him here."

I thought it was time for me to at least say something. "We've just come back from a day out. I'm allowed to see my sons, even if they live in Molly's and your house."

"We all went to Longleat. Do you remember when we went before? When you 'won' a ticket in a raffle?" She asked.

I thought she made the word 'won' ring out around the room, and maybe, just momentarily, there was doubt in his eyes, but he just replied, "Yes. I remember. It was all those good times, all those good memories that we have that I wanted to talk to you about."

I wondered if Molly was going to let loose with his lies about the Longleat tickets and whatever else, but she just quietly said, "I told you, there is no point. I'm getting the boys something to eat right now. And Chris is here. I told you, I'd think about finding time for you to have your say sometime, but it is not right now."

"Later this evening, then? I'm sure he won't be staying long."

"Maybe I owe you your chance to say whatever it is that you want to say, but it won't make any difference. And it certainly isn't urgent. Now, please Peter. Just go."

"You're my wife. I love you. I won't be sent out of my own kitchen like this."

I was in two minds as to whether to say anything, but I did, "Molly has asked you leave. Perhaps it's best if you do. I'm sure you'll get your chance to say whatever it is that you want to say, but please leave it for now."

"I won't be told what to do by you. I'm her husband. This is my house." He glared at me, and his voice went up a notch, "I want you to leave. Now."

"No. I'm not happy for Molly's safety with you getting worked up. I'm not leaving until I've seen you leave, and Molly's locked the door behind you. I'm sorry. You'll have to find another time to say your piece."

We stood face to face, across the kitchen table for a long moment, and then his shoulders slumped.

He looked at Molly, "I would never hurt you. You know I wouldn't." and he walked out of the door, closing it loudly behind him.

I looked at Molly, tension was draining from her, "You've got to move out. You can't live here like this for the whole of the divorce process, it takes months."

She shrugged, "There's nowhere to go."

"I'll get Carole onto it in the morning. I'm sure we can find some furnished house to let for a few months. But going to stay with Ralph is still the obvious choice."

"I'm not going there. Susan will be coming back soon, I'm sure of it." She sighed, "I guess I'll have to get used to having to tolerate her, of being polite to her, but I really couldn't live under the same roof. I don't even want to be in the same room as her. I can't go there."

I thought: I'm going to have to see Ralph and get him to convince her.

"What state is the divorce in anyway?"

"As of Thursday, he still hadn't replied to my solicitor's letter. So she is drawing up the papers for me to divorce him. On the grounds of unreasonable behaviour. We had to be a little inventive there. His excessive sexual demands was the main one. He's going to end up with me divorcing him for him wanting something that I would give to you in a heartbeat. If only he knew, but he must never ever do so."

"Does she have any idea when he'll get the petition?"

"Well, she says the courts are being pretty efficient at the moment in turning those things around. I'm going in tomorrow afternoon to sign everything, she'll send it off to the Court, and I guess he'll get his copy around the end of the week."

"Then you've got to be out of here by then."

"Why? He's right, he would never hurt me."

I paused and chose my words, "I think there's something of the spoilt child about him. I reckon he could have an awfully big tantrum when someone takes his bag of sweets away."

She smiled, "Yes, there is a bit of little school boy in him. And he was a bit manic the other night, and probably could have worked his way up to being like that again tonight." She paused and sighed, "Maybe you're right. I'll think about it."

"Don't think, act."

She stood and looked at me for some moments, then I said, "I guess I should be going. He's probably timing me, and I don't want to make things even more uncomfortable for you. Will I see you at my place tomorrow evening?"

"Yes." She paused, "Tell me it scares you as much as it scares me."

I smiled, "Probably. But tomorrow night should be easy. I guess we need only talk about the ground rules, what's on our agendas, that sort of thing."

"I'll come over as soon as the boys are well on their way. Eight thirty or nine o'clock."

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and said I'd say goodbye to the boys, and then I'll be going. As I passed the gym I could see Peter standing watching me from the shadows inside. I just hoped that Molly had locked the door behind me.

I drove straight to Ralph's. He let me in and offered me a drink, which I declined.

Once we were seated in their lounge, I looked at him, "I agreed to talk with Molly today."

He looked at me, his eyes full of questions, "Good." Was all he said.

"I was hoping that you'd be able to help us a bit. I've suggested that she should come to my flat on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, so that we can talk about all that's happened, how we feel, what we want. But it means she'll be needing a baby sitter....."

"I'd love to. I'll talk to her."

I paused, then I asked, "How was Susan?"

"I wish I knew. I got to the pub early yesterday. Got myself a pint and got her a cider that I knew she'd want. And, as I told you, I laid out the two letters on the table and waited. All very dramatic. She arrived, I stood and kissed her and then we sat down. She looked at the letters, realised what they were, and just looked at me and said, 'I'm not proud of it, but I had to. Any mother would have done the same.' So I pointed out that not every mother would lie and cheat and fraudulently try to break up their own ********'s marriage. She said that Peter had fallen in love with her, and would make a far better husband than you ever would. You couldn't be relied on to put Molly and the children first in your career driven life. I said that was for Molly to decide and not her. I picked up the letters, I told her I found it totally unacceptable, and that if she wanted to put her own marriage right, then she'd better think about things. And I left. I didn't even finish my pint."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That's the bit I wish I knew. I've thought about nothing else since. It isn't easy to throw in the towel on a thirty year marriage. But I don't know what else to do. But visiting the solicitor seems so irrevocable somehow."

"Well, no one's making you."

There was a long pause, "I've been thinking that I might give her one more chance to at least to try to put things right. I thought I might book a straightforward holiday to Madeira. It is meant to be spectacular for flowers. And it's a simple one hop flight. International hotels with international cuisine. Nothing to threaten her at all. Now the best thing would be if she truly apologises, and says she's willing to come with me. If not then I'll go alone, and if she isn't willing to apologise when I get back, well then I'll have my answer, won't I?".

"I guess so. Do you think Susan will be coming back here anytime soon?"

He smiled grimly, "No. Or if she does, then I'll move out. Why?"

"Because I need somewhere for Molly and the boys to go. I don't trust Peter not to make her life a living hell in the coming weeks. I've tried to tell her that she's got to get out. I think she half agrees with me, but doesn't know where to go. I've said I'll see if I can find somewhere, but here is the obvious place. It's not as if she's running away, she just needs to be away from there. But she won't come here for fear that Susan is going to come back."

"I'll go and see her in the morning. I'll talk to her. I should tell her the state of play between Susan and me anyway. Don't worry, Chris, I'll do my best."

"Thanks, Ralph. It's not easy for any of us. It's all a bloody mess."

He gave a hollow laugh, "You can say that again!"

I left not long after that. And later I poured myself a nightcap and wondered. The day didn't go anything like my plan, but it probably ended up in about the same place. But I realised that I was going to have to put a lot of work in to lower expectations.

The next morning in the office, I beat Carole in. But when she delivered my coffee, with the diary under her arm, she asked, "How was your long weekend?"

"Good." And I smiled.

She stood looking at me for some time, then said, "There's a twinkle in your eye. There's been another instalment, hasn't there?" And she just sat down and waited.

I told her everything. Her face went pale and hard when we were talking about Susan and the letter, but beyond saying, with a lot of disgust in her voice, "The stupid woman" she didn't really comment.

I concluded with, "So, Tuesday and Thursday evening are sacrosanct for the next few weeks."

Carole looked at me with a smile and one raised eyebrow, "And Wednesday and Friday mornings are unsuitable for early starts and breakfast meetings?"

"No. They are perfectly fine for early starts and breakfast meetings."

She looked disappointed, but "Oh." was all she said.

"How was your weekend, anyway?" I asked.

Her face turned glum, "Rick was in a bad mood. Some customer had been on at him for how long a job took and how much it cost. I think he'd happily give up the domestic plumbing trade and just work for builders on new houses. It doesn't pay as well, but he's only got a few years to go anyway. He's a bit older than me, you see."

"The job's alright if it wasn't for the customers, eh?"

She smiled, "Something like that." And she opened her diary....

She was back in my office late that afternoon, "Chris, it's half past five and you need to leave."

I smiled at her thoughtfulness, "No I don't. She's not coming round until half past eight at the earliest. It's only for an hour of serious talking, that's all."

Carole looked disappointed, and I suggested, "You could do something for me though. You could get me a couple of pads of paper and a couple of pens or pencils."

"You can't make it that business like! You'll tell me that I've got to be there to take the minutes next."

"I want to make sure that we talk properly. I don't want it to just dissolve into a kiss and make-up session, because that won't work and would be the last meeting we ever have." I looked her in the eyes, "Trust me."

She went off and came back with pads and pencils which she laid in my open briefcase. She looked at me, "It's up to you, Chris, and you must do it your way. But if you want my advice, it's about both of you, it has to be give and take."

I sighed, "You're right. It's because I'm so damned nervous. But, at least for tonight, I want to keep some degree of formality. And I want to get a list of all the aspects of the whole mess, so that we can make sure we talk about everything."

Even though I worked to six thirty, I was home with plenty of time to eat a micro-waved dinner, and have a shower. By eight thirty I was showered, shaved and dressed as the epitome of the modern, independent bachelor, but I could do a very good impression of a nervous wreck waiting my fate. I busied myself just checking that everything was set up correctly. I laid out the pads of paper and pencils on opposite sides of the dining table. I left the wine in the fridge, but I laid out glasses and a bottle of mineral water.

She arrived just before nine o'clock. She was wearing a light summer raincoat and looked good. As I kissed her on the cheek, I smelt the familiar perfume that I associated with her. "That's better. You smell right somehow."

She smiled, "Anais Anais. I had to go and buy it."

As I looked questioningly at her, she continued, "I upset you by wearing a perfume that Peter had given me the other day. So I thought I'd better go and get the one you used to buy me."

"But I'd have sworn that you wore that on the first night we met after I came back here. When you came to the old flat to talk about the boys."

"I did. But when we had lunch that time I used the very last I had of a bottle you gave me. I remember saying to myself: not to worry, if everything goes right, he'll buy me a new bottle before the month was out. That was before it all went wrong that day."

"Anyway. Come in. Let me take your coat. Would you like a glass of white wine?"

As I took her coat, I realised that underneath she was wearing a dark blue skirt and a light blue blouse. I recognised the skirt as one she'd bought in my day. I used to think she looked great in it, but it was a bit short, it came about five or six inches above the knee. She hardly ever wore it, because she used to say it was too short for a wife and mother. That used to annoy me, she's had great legs, but what really annoyed me was that it was the same length as it was in the store. Why did she buy it if it was too short?

She said she would have a glass of wine, and when I came back from the kitchen with the bottle, I found her just standing looking at the table, laid out for our talk. She turned and looked at me, I couldn't read the look in her eyes, but she determinedly went and sat in one of the armchairs, turning her back on the table.

"I thought it would be helpful if we kept it a bit formal. It might ease the emotions a bit." I said as I poured two glasses of wine.

"I'm not here to negotiate a treaty. I'm here because you invited me to talk and build something new."

"Sorry." I answered, "But, I think I might like to take notes." I passed her a glass of wine, picked up a pad and pencil and sat in the other armchair.

"Before you start, Chris, I've got some news. I signed the divorce petition this afternoon. Now it's down to the Courts."

"You sound very matter of fact. Surely it was a bit emotional?"

"No, no it wasn't. Maybe it should have been, or it will hit me later, but it wasn't." She paused, but I couldn't see her trying to hide any emotion, and she continued, "Ralph came to see me this afternoon. He told me that he's really having difficulty getting used to the idea of what Susan did, and he's beginning to think about divorce. I really don't know what I think about that, my parents getting divorced because of the way she behaved when we got divorced. I know that I have a real problem with her, I'd quite like to hear that she's had a taste of her own medicine ...... is that really bad of me? ..... but I want him to be happy. And I don't know whether he'd be most happy reconciling with her and accepting what she did, or in divorcing her in disgust."

"Well, I tend to think that people should keep out of other people's marriages. She should have kept out of ours, and we should keep out of theirs. But I won't be too upset if I don't see too much of her in the future."

"That's how I feel. But he's my ***, and he's only tried to do his best." Tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Come on, drink some wine and wipe your eyes. There's nothing you can do or should do about Ralph and Susan. It's all a bloody mess, but we're here to talk about our future, and as far as I'm concerned, that's far more important."

She wiped her eyes and smiled. As she did, I noticed that her breasts moved softly under her blouse, she wasn't wearing a bra. But whilst I had lustful thoughts, she continued, "Yes, it is. But it has one good side. Ralph says he's not going to let her come back until he's made up his mind. So, I can move out and go and live there, at least temporarily."

I smiled, I really felt relieved. "That really is good news. When?"

"ASAP. We thought tomorrow."

"Do you need help? If I can get time off, I will."

"No. Ralph and I can do it with a few trips in the two cars. But I do want to take everything that I value and want to keep. The rest, well he can keep it or sell it, whatever the settlement is."

That reminded me that I wanted to know what the financial settlement was going to be. I wanted the bastard to at least pay, preferably heavily, for his part in all of this. But, maybe tonight wasn't the night for showing my vengeful side.

So, instead, I asked, "So, have you thought about what you want to talk about over these meetings?"

She leant back in the chair, crossing her legs, and allowing my eyes to see up her skirt. I glanced up to her face, and suddenly realised that she knew what she had done and what effect it had on me.

She looked at me, "I'm happy for you to take the lead. We'll do whatever you want." And she uncrossed her legs and crossed them again, the other way around.

"OK." I smiled, "Well, for a start, I'd like you to do me a favour. Dress a little more conservatively for these sessions. Please."

She looked affronted, "But .... But I thought you'd like the way I dressed. It was you who always said that you liked me in this skirt, you used to say that I had good legs. I thought that if I wear this skirt...."

"With no bra? The only times I ever knew you to go without a bra was when you wanted something, or if I convinced you to do so."

She looked defeated now, "Oh! I'm sorry. I thought .... I hoped .... If only we could .... You know. Well then ..... everything would start to go back together between us."

"You think that our relationship was just sex? You know that's not true. OK, I'll admit it was an important part of it, and I guess it is at the heart of what went wrong, but just jumping into bed together won't solve anything." I paused, and smiled, "Even if it would be rather nice. In fact I can't think of a nicer way of spending the evening."

She looked rather ashamed, "You're right. I know you're right." She paused, obviously thinking, "But, I would like to wear slightly sexy, special clothes. I'm meeting the man I love, the man I want. I need to know that at least I'm looking good if I'm going to have to tear myself apart, and face my own worst emotions, and worst deeds."

"OK. I can hardly object to you looking good. But I wish you wouldn't use that word, that you love me." She looked hurt at that, but I continued, "I just don't see, how, after all this time.... Well I suppose if that's what you feel, and I suppose you should say what you feel, that's what these meetings are all about. But it doesn't make any sense to me."

There was a long pause, whilst we both drank some wine, and I topped up both glasses. Once I'd sat down I asked, "So what is there on your list to talk about?"

She looked surprised, "I thought this was for you to talk about whatever you want. I don't have any issues. I made the most dreadful mistakes, I'm guilty and mystified at how I acted, but that's what I'll be seeing Heather about. This time is for you."

"So you don't want to know about Helene? Or what my relationship to Myra was all about? Or why I never came to find you when we split? Or what I did before I met Helene, or even just where in the world my travels took me?"

"Oh! Yes. Some of that plagues me, but I thought I didn't have any right to ask."

"No. The point of us meeting is so that you can ask all and every question you have. Although you may not like the answer to some of the questions I just suggested."

"Well, I want to know about all you suggested, except the one about why you never came to me. At about the two year mark that one really got to me. I went through a period where I was really angry with you, but then I realised that I never gave you any reason to try. I didn't mean to be so that you thought I was in love with Peter, but I know I might have given that impression. I'm sorry."

I was writing notes, "Anything else?"

"I guess I ought to think about it."

I looked at her, she was looking strained, and I know I felt strained. "We ought to do something about making these evenings a little easier on ourselves. Any chance that you could get here earlier?"

"Well, if we are living at Ralph's, I know that he'd happily feed and look after the boys. So any time you like."

I got up and went and got something from the drawer of a desk in the corner of the room. "Here's a key to this place. Let yourself in anytime you want. And we can eat here before we start. That might help and there is something deeply important about sharing a meal."

She smiled. "I'd like that. But you didn't tell me, what are your questions? You might as well write them down as well."

And for some time we worked on my list of ideas. She was quite constructive, and didn't say No to anything. At one point we got into an impromptu discussion on Susan and how she'd behaved. Molly told me that there were several times when Susan had talked her out of coming to see me, but only the twice that she'd already told me about where she had actually physically stopped her.

I asked her, "Why? Why, for God's sake, did you let her talk you out of it?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. She seemed to think it was for the best. That you had to make up your own mind. I guess I believed her. It doesn't make sense to me either."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Is killing your mother-in-law matricide-in-law?"

She smiled and said, "Well, I guess that's it for this evening, isn't it? Unless ....." And she crossed her legs again. But this time she was smiling and I knew she was joking.

I smiled, "Out of interest, how did you get out of the house without a bra on? Ralph would have noticed, and you wouldn't have wanted that."

"I took it off in the car." She paused, then looked up at me, "Do you remember when I confessed everything, and you said you couldn't have sex, because you were scared of your own emotions?"

"Yes. I remember."

"Well it got me thinking. When I married Peter, and after about six months I realised that he just didn't do it for me and never would. Well I went through a phase of reading what they called erotica for women." She looked at me and almost laughed, "Nothing too much over the top. Proper paperbacks from the bookshops. All very respectable, well almost."

"And?"

"And, I'd spend the odd afternoon reading, but with my hand in my pants. It was the only worthwhile sex I was getting. And I suppose it was those fantasies that started me off on fantasising about you, which kept me going for so long. Anyway, one of them was a bit S&M-ish. Quite a lot really. It was about the young girl, she was about twenty I suppose, falling in love with an older man who was into some quite heavy S&M. It wasn't my idea of fun at all. I'm not really sure why I bought it. But, one of the things was that he used to whip her, and she used to welcome it. It was her absolution for all she felt for him, for enjoying herself in ways that she shouldn't. Heavy Catholic guilt stuff, I suppose."

"Sorry. I don't do S&M. I thought about it on my travels. It had some appeal for a little while, when I hated you and all women, but I don't think it's really me."

"No? Good. But in a way, I've come to realise that I wouldn't say No to some sexual absolution. Maybe that's one of the reasons I do want to go to bed with you. For you to hammer into me, to make me yours again. For you to take me and use me, and mark me in some way, deep inside, so that I know, that I feel, that I'm your woman again. Can you understand that? Letting some of your emotions go, sexually, wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing as far as I'm concerned."

I felt I could answer her flippantly or seriously. I chose serious, "Well, I guess we'll see what happens, if and when anything does. But promise me, don't have great expectations. I don't like that pressure. And you must lower the boys expectations too. When we don't make it, I don't want to be the bad guy."

"I'm sorry, I know I was over the top yesterday. I've tried to reign back a bit already. I'll try having another word with them."

"See that you do." I said as I stood up. The evening was over.

After a fairly tense farewell, with so much being thought and not said, I got myself a whisky and sat and wondered what I thought of the night. I decided that, as far as I could tell, it went as well as I could have hoped.

The next day, Wednesday, Carole greeted me with an inquisitorial raised eyebrow.

I smiled and told her, "As well as could be expected. Pretty good, I guess. We talked, and I guess that's a start."

She smiled, "Keep at it. I'll bring you a coffee. And you're not going to get much chance to brood about it today. You're going to be run off your feet."

At one meeting, just after lunch, Myra was there. She came in and looked straight at me, "And what's your news?"

I smiled at her directness, "We're talking."

"Good." Was her succinct reply.

That evening I phoned Molly, just to check that she had moved to Ralph's. And she had. Apparently it was a little more effort than she thought, and she did say it was a bit of an emotional wrench. Suddenly, what she'd been talking about was coming true. She was leaving the last four years behind. I guess any of us would have some thoughts on walking away from a marriage, however bad that marriage had been. I could understand that. Apparently, she just left a note for Peter to say she'd moved out, and had no intention of returning, so he was welcome to move back into the house. I wondered if I ought to warn Piers that Peter may be in a funny mood in the morning.

I then phoned Mum. She and Len were still enjoying themselves in Scotland. Over the next couple of days they intended to get up to John O'Groats, just to be able to say that they got to the very top of the mainland. Apparently they were still wondering if they'd take the ferry to the Orkney and Shetland Isles. But when I told them that myself and Molly were talking, I think the idea of doing much more in Scotland suddenly died. I had this feeling that I was going to see them back in Bristol in the fairly near future, although I made a great deal of the fact that we were only talking, and that it would take weeks before we would have any idea what was going to come of those talks.

On the Thursday I had two phone calls. The first was from Molly, who sounded a bit strained, but she only wanted to agree that I would supply the meal for us tonight. The second was from Ralph, who didn't want to interfere, but he felt that he should warn me that Molly was feeling a little emotional over leaving her home, and filing the divorce papers. As Ralph said, she has launched herself into an unknown future, you can't criticise her for looking over her shoulder and having a moment or two of doubt.

I had intended to try to focus tonight's conversation on Susan and Peter's collusion. I needed to satisfy myself that Molly was led into that marriage at a time when she was vulnerable and open to manipulation. But, having spoken to Ralph, I decided that I'd focus on gently trying to show Molly that Peter Davies was an immoral bastard who had ruthlessly chased and seduced a married woman. I thought it might help ease her conscience if she realised what sort of man she was leaving behind. And, I had to admit, I'd enjoy proving that he was what I thought he was.

On the way home I stopped off at the supermarket to buy dinner. I wanted something that was nice, but not too special. I wanted to have dinner, not to make an emotional statement. In the end I chose some cooked chicken and a variety of salads to be followed by cheesecake, and all with a decent bottle of wine.

Molly turned up not long after I'd got in. She was dressed very attractively, but I noted that it was not too provocative this time. But she did smell of that perfume, and that could have been provocation enough for me, if I'd let it. We had a glass of wine before we sat down to eat. I could see that Ralph had been right, she was looking strained.

"You looked tired. Has it been hard?"

"I guess it's not been easy. It isn't helped by the phone calls from Peter. They started as soon as he got home from work last night and realised I'd gone. At first they were mystified, he couldn't understand why I'd moved out. Then they became angry, with him swearing at me for moving out before he's had a chance to talk. And finally, late last night, they went to pleading and crying."

"I guess that's to be expected. Does he know where you've gone?"

"Yes. I couldn't see any point in not telling him. And I wanted him to know that I was moving away from him, not that I was moving to you. But I feel so guilty. All his hurt, all his pain is my fault. I should never have married him. I've led him to this point."

"Well, if it's any consolation, to the best of my knowledge, he's been working normally."

"Yes, he said he'd go into work today. But he's moaning that you engineered that he's had a formal warning, which in his view was unfair because his absence was understandable in the circumstances and partly your fault."

"No. Neither of us has any responsibility for how he behaves. He's an adult. And he started this chain of events years ago when he chose to sit down with a married woman, and develop a relationship with her. Let alone his collusion with your mother."

She looked at me, rather sharply, and said, "It wasn't like that. He was just a nice guy and a friend. And you can hardly blame him for taking tips on me from Susan."

I decided to back off for a while, and I tried to keep the conversation fairly neutral. I told her a little about my work at Franks, and about how well I got on with Carole. We talked about when I might see the boys at the weekend, and she suggested that I come to Ralph's for Sunday lunch, it would give the boys a sense of stability in their new home. That led on to talking about the boys, and I again revived the idea that maybe, once this hiatus is over, that we could change them to go to private school.

That idea led to an interesting bit of conversation, when she said, "Well, of course, they've got a trust fund, so it wouldn't be so expensive."

I was surprised, "What trust fund?"

She looked at me, searching my face in disbelief, "Oh! I'm sorry. I thought you knew, I put all the money that I received on our divorce into a trust fund for the boys. It didn't seem right that I took your money into a marriage to Peter. And since then, I've added to it, quite a bit actually. It's because you've always paid too much in maintenance, so I've taken what I thought was the profit on their true costs, and saved it in a deposit account, and then added it to their trust fund once a year." She paused and looked at me, across the dinner table, "I had no right to take your money for myself and Peter."

I was silent for a while, just sipping my wine. I wasn't really surprised, Molly always had a lot of integrity.

Then I asked, "So what will the financial settlement of this divorce be?"

She looked up at me, "I went into a marriage with nothing; I shouldn't have agreed to marry him, so I'll come out with nothing."

"No. That's wrong. Whatever else, you gave him four years of your life. Maybe not love, but companionship, support, sex, and generally sharing your life. That's what he wanted, and he promised to endow you with all his worldly goods or whatever the civil ceremony says. You are owed half of your joint wealth, or at least the increase in your joint wealth in the last four years."

"He shouldn't suffer financially because I'm divorcing him. And anyway, a lot of his money comes from his mother. She left him quite a bit when she died."

She was becoming defensive, so I asked, "What was his mother like?"

She paused, probably surprised by my tangential question, but then she smiled slightly, "She was lovely. She was so proud of Peter, and so delighted that he'd met someone to settle down with. I think she was rather fond of me, and I liked her. Why?"

"No real reason. One of the boys mentioned her once, so I just thought I'd ask. When did she die?"

"About two years ago. That's when we bought the better house. And, of course, she left us the cottage in Wales."

"Where is it in Wales? I assume it's not very far as Peter keeps disappearing off to it."

"No. It's in the Black Mountains, or at the bottom of them really. Just north of Abergavenny, on a sort of round about way of getting to Hay-on-Wye."

"Oh. Pretty country. Can I ask, when did she write her will?"

She looked rather surprised, "About six month's before she died. She had to make some changes, as her sister died at that time, and it affected her old one."

"So, if I was your lawyer, I would argue that she knew exactly what she was doing when she left the money to Peter. She fully expected you to benefit by it, in fact she wanted you to benefit by it. You are entitled to your share."

"No. Peter's been hurt enough. It wouldn't be fair to take his mother's money off him."

"What exactly have you asked for in the divorce?"

She hesitated for a moment, and looked studiously at her salad as she answered, "I haven't. My solicitor said the financial settlement could be agreed later. That it was important to get the actual divorce petition underway."

"She knows you don't want to ask for anything, and she disagrees with you. Right?"

Molly stiffened, "We've discussed it and agreed to sort it out later."

I was becoming annoyed. I knew I quite liked the idea of hitting Peter where it hurts, in his wallet. But it annoyed me that she had either such a low estimate of her contribution to the marriage, or that she cared about him so much that she wanted to protect him. Either way I didn't like it. So, we ate in silence until we'd both finished our salads, and I had served the cheesecake.

I tried again, "I'm sorry, but I've got to come back to it, for Goodness sake Molly, have some self-respect. You put as lot into that marriage, you are entitled to take something out. Please."

"It's nothing to do with you. You're the one that says the divorce is necessary between myself and Peter, that it is nothing to do with us."

"True, it isn't. But you were happy to take half of our money when we divorced. You took that off me, although I'd done nothing wrong, you said so yourself. Now, you aren't going to take anything from Peter. You look after him better than you looked after me. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I took it and gave it to your sons. I didn't take it for myself."

We ate our cheesecake in silence.

When we'd finished, I cleared the plates and asked, "Would you like a coffee?"

She looked at me, she looked even more tired than when she arrived. I guess she hadn't expected an argument. "No. I know we're meant to talk, but would you mind if I just went home. I don't think I want to relive parts of the last four years with you at the moment, and I certainly don't want an argument."

I kissed her goodbye, saw her to the door, and then poured myself a large whisky.