The next week at work was just simple hard work. I was beginning to realise that I was still trying to do my old job, plus project managing the ITP project, and that was hard work. The ITP team had been demoralised, they needed time and loving care. But loving care cost time, and time was something that neither the project nor I had. On top of that, I had to build a new relationship with Neil as my new line manager, and play my role as a senior member of the company management team. My hours began to stretch.
In some ways I didn't mind that. Less time to pick at my emotional wounds, and maybe, as my Mother would say 'it'll only get better if you don't pick it' But work was hard work, and totally exhausting, and I still missed Beth to go home to with her understanding, help and support on tough days.
One bit of good news was that ITP had decided to pay half their instalment payment as a matter of good will. That cheered Neil up, and it helps to have a happy boss.
On Thursday I spent half the day interviewing new secretaries. This was new to me, interviewing programmers and other technical staff I could manage, I'd been interviewing them for years. But not secretaries. Luckily, Personnel were there to support. We did all the interviewing in their offices, and they did everything but the personal bit. I told them about the department and a little about me. We interviewed five, and by number four I was getting the hang of it. Unfortunately, it was number three who seemed the best, and she hadn't seen me at my best.
Anyway, myself and Personnel agreed, number three it would be, assuming she accepted. She was an attractive woman of twenty-four, called Davinia. And she liked amateur dramatics and crosswords, so she would fit in all right.
After work I went over to the pub with Dave.
"I saw you had a pleasant afternoon." was his opening gambit.
"What, interviewing secretaries? And how did you know?"
"Ah! Well....you see, I quite fancy Deana Treifuss in Accounts. And what floor is Accounts on?"
"The same one as Personnel. OK." I realised.
"Well choosing a secretary is easy. Big boobs and says yes to whatever is asked." he said with a leer.
"Do you really believe that?" I thought that he was being a bit too sexist, even for the pub and between mates, well before the third pint anyway, and even then only in the presence of some girls who you really want to annoy.
"No. You know I don't. But I've got an image to keep up. Did you find one?"
"Yes. I nice girl called Davinia. And keep your grubby little hands off. I could do without lover's tiffs in the office, especially if they involve my secretary."
"So you fancy her then." Was his only comment. And the trouble was, he could be right.
On Friday, Phil and Denny came round to Blindside for supper. Phil had made no secret of it when he had phoned me on Wednesday, Denny needed to look round. What I didn't know was that Denny had seen Beth on Tuesday. Obviously their Tuesday nights at Not Steinbeck's were becoming routine.
I asked how Beth had been. Denny looked nervously at Phil before she answered, "She told me about your Meissen plate story. I think, somehow it's changed her. She now really understands that you've gone and probably for good. It's taken this long for that to get through to her. I don't think she's got that much further in her thinking though. I asked her why she did it, and she couldn't answer. I asked: was Ken really attractive to her, there must have been something there between them. But she said he had a sort of mature glamour, that was her phrase, but not much else. I tried asking her: hadn't she realised that she was risking losing her whole marriage, didn't she realise why the wedding service had made her promise to be faithful, the forsaking all others bit? But she would only say that was a matter for the theologians, and they hadn't faced a randy Ken in full seduction mode on a boring afternoon? I think she was just trying to laugh it off."
Phil obviously hadn't heard this bit, because he asked "Is she saying Ken seduced her? That all of this is down to Ken? Is that her excuse?"
Denny looked at him, before she defended her friend. "No. I do think Ken did work hard to make it happen, but she wasn't really trying to absolve herself of having given in. In fact, half her problem is that everything is totally her fault, without any excuse whatsoever. She doesn't even try to work out what made her do it. But she will. She's got to. Or she will if I have anything to do with it." she turned to look at me "That's nothing to do with you, Tim. She needs to do that for her own sake."
"Let me know when she has. I'd like to know the reason for this whole damn mess, even if it doesn't put it right." Was my only reply, and then I took a large gulp of wine. "It can't put it right."
Two more weeks went by, mainly more hard work, long hours of travelling to keep clients happy, and some long heart to hearts with a couple of key guys on the ITP team, just to keep them on track.
August started on the first, but then again it usually does, only this one was a Monday, and Davinia's first day. I introduced her to some of the department, and some key players in the Company, like Neil's secretary. I didn't want to feed her to too many lions on one day. She really was a nice person. Nice enough that I found an excuse to invite her to lunch on Wednesday.
"Oh, that's very nice of you Tim, but really you don't have to." I think she was genuinely surprised.
"Sorry, it's part of your duties. Helping the boss fill in some important gaps in his life."
"Such as?" she asked dubiously.
"Like accompanying me to Not Steinbeck's. Don't tell me it's one of your favourite haunts. Everyone I know is in and out of there all the time, and I've not been since they opened."
"Actually they do quite a good chilli there." she looked quite happy.
"I knew it! I bloody knew it! Now your committed, you've got to come with me."
We had quite a good lunch. She had a good sense of humour, and easy to talk to. Unfortunately, I learnt that she was two years into a pretty firm affair, with a live in boyfriend, a school teacher. OK, he was going through a bit of a funny stage, having given up teaching at the end of the last term, and seemed to be showing no signs of taking up any other career, in fact currently he was a kept man. I could always introduce her to Jean.
We went back to the office, walking together easily, laughing and joking. We bumped into Dave as we came into Reception. I stopped for a business word with him, she went on to the department. We watched her leave. Dave told me not to bother, she had a live in boyfriend. He doesn't waste time, it was only her third day. But who was I to talk?
The next day, Dave and Alice came round for an impromptu barbeque on my roof terrace. There is definitely something between those two, they really ought to get their act together. If they don't I can imagine myself making a play for Alice sometime in the future, when I get round to risking my first foray into that dangerous world of relationships. But not yet, I was beginning to like my single life. I was beginning to notice that I was fancying women again, and even more important, I was feeling good, I even thought that one of them might fancy me.
Then we got to my wedding anniversary on 11th August. It fell on a Thursday, and it sort of glowed as a date on my calendar at work and in my diary.
On the Wednesday, Denny phoned me. Apparently she had seen Beth the night before, as usual. And Beth was very uptight about what to do. Should she send me a card? Should she send me a present? Should she try to meet me? So, Denny wanted to know what I was going to do. Nothing was my simple answer. I was going to work hard and late and hope that it would pass without me having to think. What else could I do?
That Wednesday was a lovely warm summer's evening. I sat on my terrace and thought of Beth. I thought of our previous anniversaries. In the last couple of years we had taken to just having a special meal at home, to save money as the house demanded every penny we had. But we would dress up, eat well, dance together by candlelight and make love. We didn't need expensive restaurants, we had each other. It all made me very sad, and I cried. I had thought I was over the crying bit, but I still wanted her so much it hurt. Oh! Why had she destroyed it all?
On the Thursday I got home at about nine o'clock after another late night at my desk. There, on the iron staircase to my front door sat Beth. She stood as I approached. "Hello. You promised me that you would show me round. I thought tonight might be a good time."
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say. I led the way up the stairs and opened the front door. She went in. I showed her around, it didn't take long, with a formal commentary from me. Eventually we were back in the living room, facing each other. She looked good, so very good.
"It's lovely Tim. I can see why you wanted it. And you've made it look good with the things you brought. Those cushions look good on that sofa."
"Would you like a drink? I don't keep any champagne anymore, there's not a lot to celebrate these days." The hurt was bubbling up again.
She ignored my barb. "Some white wine, if you have it. Please."
I opened a bottle from the fridge and poured two glasses. I passed her a glass "You're looking good Beth. I could almost fancy you." I tried joking, but it didn't work. Dammit! I did fancy her.
"Thank you." she looked at me, but I don't know what she read in my eyes. "How are you, Tim? Are you happy?"
"No, of course I'm not happy. But it's getting better. This place helps, and I'm working hard, doing long hours. Did you wait for me for a long time?"
"It didn't matter. I am sorry Tim. I know I've hurt you a lot. I've hurt myself a lot as well. I was a fool."
"Don't let's go over it again. There's no point, Beth. You broke the rules and this is the result. I wish it wasn't, but you never gave me reason to think anything different."
"And now?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" I answered her question with a question.
"Would you let me talk to you now? Now that we've both tasted the future, would you talk to me now?"
"No. Not about what maybe. There is no maybe for us until we talk about the whats and whys of the past. You know that Beth. And even then..."
"I know, no promises. What do you want me to say Tim? What can I say to put it right?"
"Nothing but the truth." I paused and looked at her. "Oh Beth, I wish you hadn't come here tonight. You're only hurting both of us. I had created the vague possibility of being able to build a new life, hard work - a new home - a bachelor's life...."
"Like Dave's you mean? An endless circle of one night stands, the occasional affair that lasts a month or two. God, Tim. I know you, you don't want that. Is that how you see this flat? As a bachelor's lair for seducing silly young girl's you can pick up in some seedy nightclub? Good God, Tim, you'll be getting a sports car next and trying to impress them with old wines and Barry White on the hi-fi."
I laughed to myself. Now didn't seem the moment to tell her that my new car was being delivered tomorrow. I turned to her, "Dave's life isn't that shallow. And anyway, I've tried faithfulness and domesticity - it doesn't work, or not for me anyway." There I go again, still trying to hurt.
I looked at her "I'm sorry, Beth. I shouldn't have said that. Maybe you should go."
She burst into tears with a loud sob. "Don't send me away again. You did that once before. Not tonight, please."
I sat down and drained my wine glass, and then poured myself another glassful. I looked at her, she sat crumpled on the sofa, wiping her eyes with a pretty lace handkerchief. She looked so vulnerable, I wanted to hold her, comfort her, but I didn't trust myself.
"Look, Beth. Why don't you talk to Rose Bullard. You need to understand everything that's happened, to understand yourself and to understand me." I got my wallet out of my jacket pocket and found Rose's card, the one Charlie had given to me all those weeks ago on Fateful Friday. I gave it to her, she held it in her hand and looked at it suspiciously. "She's a nice lady, you'll like her. I'll phone her in the morning and tell her you'll be calling her. And anyway, if you like her, then she can sell the house for us."
That produced another round of tears. I went and sat next to her and patted her back. She tried to cuddle in, but I moved away. That produced more tears. Eventually she was composed, and I made a mug of coffee, but we didn't talk much. We just sat in silence until she had ***** her coffee, when she left. She kissed me on the cheek as she went out of the front door "Happy Anniversary. My darling Tim." Some Anniversary!
I phoned Rose in the morning and told her that she may get a call from Beth. On the other hand, maybe she wouldn't.
It was the 11th September that I found out whether she ever went to see Rose. I'd asked Denny, but she didn't know or wasn't telling me. Anyway, I had an invite for Sunday lunch at the Bullard's. Charlie and Rose were there, but there was no sign of Simon and Maddy. Their ******** Camilla was there, back from doing a year's aid work in Africa, and with plenty of good stories to keep the conversation flowing.
After lunch, Rose asked me if I'd like to see their plum tree in the garden, of which she was particularly proud. I wondered why I would want to, but became more interested when Camilla threatened to join us with "I haven't really looked around the garden since I got back." but her father put his hand on her shoulder and held her back. Then I knew Rose really wanted to talk to me.
"I've been seeing Beth for about three weeks now. She is a lovely girl, I can see why you fell in love with her, Tim." was her opener.
"How is she?"
"Oh. She's well. I think she's ready to talk now. It's taken her a long time, she's so riddled with guilt; it took a lot of time to get through her layers of guilt and self loathing. But she's better now. I think she has an honest understanding of what happened."
I stopped and looked at Rose. "Well?"
"Oh, I'm not going to tell you. That's up to you and her. But, I think you have to make up your mind as to what you really want, Tim."
"I'd like to hear what she has to say. It won't make any difference, but it may lay some ghosts to rest. I might find closure. Isn't that what you people say?"
"Yes. But that's unfair on her. It's a horrid thing for her to have to do. To come here and relive it all just for some commission of enquiry for your better understanding. Do you really think that whatever she said, nothing could let you forgive her and try again?"
"I don't know Rose. One half of me desperately wants to believe that. That there is a way back. But, I'm sorry. I don't think I'll change my mind."
"Why not? Because you're scared? Scared to go back and get hurt again? I don't blame you. I'd be scared if I were you. I saw that look in Charlie's eyes over thirty years ago. Scared to love again, it only leads to hurt. Well you're not Charlie, and Beth isn't like Charlie's first wife. Your individuals, and life is what you make it, but it's never without risks."
I walked on, to the end of their manicured lawn. "Who does the gardening here, Rose? You or Charlie? It's always so damned immaculate."
"Neither of us. One of the advantages of success is that we can afford a gardener. And I hear that, because of you, we can go on affording him. I guess I owe you thanks for that. Let me repay you, let me help you hear what Beth has got to say with an open mind, Tim. You owe it to yourself. It may be that it's not enough for you. But please don't make up your mind until you've heard her. Give the poor girl a fair trial, Tim."
"How long have I got?"
"To decide whether to see her or not? As long as you want. And I promise you Tim, I'll hold your hand the whole time. It might hurt. It might not be good enough. But you've got to do it."
"I'll think about it. Say goodbye to Charlie for me. I'll walk round the house and just go home. I think I need to sit and think."
I phoned Phil as I sat in my car outside Trafalgar House on my return. We met at the King's Head on the Monday evening.
As soon as we had our drinks in our hands I opened, "Did you know that Beth was seeing Rose Bullard?"
"Yes, but I was sworn to secrecy. She told Denny. But I don't think even Denny knows how it's going. How did you find out?"
"Rose told me. Apparently she's ready to talk. But I have to be prepared to take her back if she has an adequate excuse. How can she have? How can I make open promises? But I would like to know what really happened. It's my life too that she played with."
Phil too a long draught. Then carefully put his beer down on the table in front of him. Holding it with two hands, staring at it. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know. That's why we're having this drink. Tell me Phil, what would you do?"
"That's unfair and it has nothing to do with it. It's about what you want to do, Tim. Not me."
"Oh I know that. But if you won't tell me, then you might as well sit there while I bore you to tears whilst trying to make up my own mind." I smiled at him.
He winced, and we both drank our beers. Eventually, Phil broke into my thoughts with a question, "Do you still love Beth?"
I looked up at him. That was a question that I wish he hadn't asked. "Yes. I still miss her like hell. But I'm just beginning to get used to living without her, and I know I will eventually get over her. But I know I wouldn't be able to go and hear her out without fervently praying that she could talk me round. But I don't believe she can. I don't believe she should. So, I'll just be going along just to get hurt some more. I'm scared Phil. Rose spotted that."
"Shrewd woman, that Rose. She's got Beth to talk, which is more than the combined forces of Denny and Mary ever managed, and they're quite formidable when working as a team. And she has some idea of the petard that you've hoisted yourself on." He smiled. "I'd trust her, I think."
We both drank our beer and sat in silence. We finished our beers. I went and got two more. When I got back, Phil had another question, "Tell me. Are you sure you're not enjoying this a little bit. You sit there in judgement. You'll decide whether you'll give Beth a hearing. You'll decide whether she has made an adequate excuse. You'll decide whether you'll divorce her. I thought a marriage was a sharing of two people, with compromises and give and take. If you really approach it like this, I wouldn't blame Beth if she didn't want to take you back. Think about it."
"But she is the one that broke the marriage. I'm entitled to make my decisions about my life." I said, and even I knew I sounded pompous.
"Yes and no. Yes she broke the marriage. But No, this isn't about the old marriage. This is about the future marriage. When you've heard her, if you hear her, then both of you, not just you, have to decide whether you want to go forward. You're entitled to your say Tim, but it takes two."
I sat in silence. I didn't like being browbeaten by my best friend. But if he couldn't do it, then who could?
I looked up at him, "I guess I'm going to a marriage counsellor."
"Good. Can I go home now?"
"When you've finished your beer, yes. Oh.... and thank you."
"What for?"
"For listening. For arguing. I need you to argue back, even if you make lousy points. And for being here."
"All part of the service." he smiled
---
We met at Charlie and Rose's house in the evening of the Wednesday in the next week. Beth was already there when I arrived, sitting in a chair in the sitting room, looking nervous and pale. There was a bottle of mineral water and glasses laid out on the coffee table in the centre of the room. I sat in another armchair. Rose sat on the sofa, with a file of papers on the seat next to her. She kept notes, my marriage was a set of notes in some filing cabinet.
Rose looked at us both. "There are some things I should say before we start. First, this meeting and any others we have are totally confidential. If you're worried about Charlie and work, Tim, don't. Charlie knows this is nothing to do with him. As a counsellor I will tell you that it's best if there are no secrets in a marriage, but there are between Charlie and myself, the things that go on when I'm counselling. Second, and this is really aimed at you Tim for this evening, but applies to you both really, there will be no interruptions when Beth is telling her story. If you've got things to say then keep them to the end." Rose looked at me and then Beth to make sure we had taken her warnings on board.
Then she turned to Beth "Well I think the starting point has to be if Beth can tell us about her life and what happened that led up to her affair with Ken."
Beth looked up at Rose, then at me, "Rose says I don't have to say this, Tim, but I want to. I'll tell you what happened between myself and Ken, but I want you to know that these aren't excuses. There is no excuse for what I did, but maybe they do explain something of why I made such a dreadful mistake."
I didn't answer. So she continued "I think early this year I was tired. Not needing more sleep tired, I was tired of the draining effect that doing the house had cost us. I was fed up that we never had any money or time. I was probably the one that wanted it that way, but I was tired that we had so often had to choose between a good holiday or dining room carpet, a night out at a nice restaurant or new bedroom curtains. Everything we did, every penny we spent was about the house. Now I was the one that wanted us to have a nice home, it was always my idea that we go camping in Scotland rather than flying to the sun, it's not your fault, Tim, and I'm not complaining, but I think it took its toll on me."
Beth stopped and looked at me. Rose seemed to make a short note on her pad. I sat in silence. Beth then went on "There were days when I didn't speak to anyone all day except you Tim. Some days my work might only consist of reading notes and papers, watching some marketing video's and reading and writing some emails. I was grateful if Ken suggested a pub lunch. I never hid that from you Tim. I think I always told you if I had a break with Ken in the pub or a cup of tea at ours or their house in the afternoon, and there was nothing in those early lunches, I promise you."
Again, Rose seemed to make a note. I opened my mouth to say something about how I was pleased if she had gone to lunch with Ken, but Rose held up her hand at me and gave me a look that silenced me. Beth resumed her tale, "I think one of the things that influenced me was whenever I talked to Frances or Bev. They seemed to have such exciting lives. I know they weren't really worthwhile role models, but they did do more than I did. Their lives were pure drama."
At that I did explode. "They're not to be admired. Their lives are a mess." I turned to Rose "Do you know about those two, has she told you? They were Beth's friends at school. Bev is an unmarried mother of two from two different fathers, and she has no man in her life. Frances has ploughed through men and affairs, married men seem to be her speciality, and she's never found true love."
Rose turned to me "Of course I know who they are. But, for all that is wrong with their lives, they had something that Beth didn't, and some influence on Beth's thinking. Now, be quiet and listen. Go on Beth."
Beth looked at me "You're right, Tim. But Frances would be off on some new affair for a weekend in Paris, or Bev was juggling paternal visiting so that the two father's don't meet. And what was my planned weekend - to grout the tiles in the bathroom. Their lives may not be better than mine, but they were a hell of a lot more exciting. And there was another thing. They were always so jealous of me. 'It's alright for you, Beth, you've got Tim' or 'I wish I had a perfect life like you Beth' and my life wasn't perfect because nothing ever happened except choosing new curtaining or flushing out the drains. Do you know I remember some of the girls at work planning a Saturday of clothes shopping. One of them asked me if I'd like to go along, but another replied that I wouldn't be interested unless it was shopping for wallpaper. I made light of it and laughed, but it was true, and it hurt."
She stopped and poured herself a glass of water. "And then there was Ken. He had money, he was successful and assured. He could take me out to lunch and pay more for a single lunch than we would spend on curtains for our bedroom. I knew that what we were doing was for our own future, we were a young couple fighting our way up in life, but it was still lovely to have this man spend all that money on me. And he knew it was a weakness, and he used it."
She took a sip of water before she continued "Ken always flirted, he'd do it right in front of you Tim. It didn't matter, girls get used to dealing with men like Ken, but he could do it with intent. There is a difference between flirting which is just a clever word play game between friends, both of you knowing that it's totally meaningless. But with Ken it was flirting with intent. You knew that he was throwing down a challenge, putting a stake in the ground to show he was interested. It didn't matter, but again it was flattering."
I poured myself a glass of water. Rose made some notes. I looked at Rose to see if she would give me some indication that I could say something, but she just said, "You're doing well, Beth. Keep going."
So Beth took a sip of water and kept going, "Well, on top of the flirting, Ken would often just drop a little hint that adultery was OK. That a little affair could be fun, no one need find out, no one would get hurt. All the usual bullshit. He even went as far as saying it could strengthen a marriage, because you come to realise how important your partner was to you. And this had gone on slowly and carefully over two to three years, him carefully dropping the seeds of an idea. I could happily ignore it, or so I thought. And then, one Friday in early April Ken invited me to lunch, there was nothing special about it. But he made his intentions very obvious. It really worried me, partly because we might have an awkward problem with a neighbour, but also I have to admit I was tempted. I had to talk to you about it, because that's what we always did, we talked about these sort of things, a problem shared and all that. But you came in late that Friday, Perry had been on your back about something, and you were trying to clear your desk to go away on a course for the next week. You came in tired, and upset, and with a DVD of a film you wanted to watch. So we had something to eat and watched the film, then you went to bed, and we didn't talk. Then over the weekend you were a bit depressed because it should have been Paul's birthday weekend, and anyway we were working hard in the garden for most of it. And on Sunday night you left to go to your course, and we never talked. It wasn't your fault, Tim, I'm not blaming you, you'd done nothing wrong. It just happened that way."
She looked at me. I guess I looked rather pale and withdrawn. I remember that weekend. Her description was fairly accurate.
Beth took a deep breath. Rose said "In your own time Beth. Your doing fine."
"Well, on the Monday, Ken called me and asked me to lunch again. I didn't want to go, but he said he knew of a wood near a wonderful restaurant, and the wild daffodils would be out. I knew I had to face him sometime, and seeing wild daffodils did sound lovely, so I went. He gave me a wonderful lunch, he was debonair and attentive and quite witty in his way. And he gave me too much wine to drink, and it was good wine and slipped down easily. He was driving, so it was down to me not to waste it. Well, to cut a long story short, when we got home he came on heavy again, and I gave him a blow job. I'm sorry Tim, but that's what happened. Later on I learnt that a blow job was the height of sexual ecstasy as far as Ken was concerned, and he didn't want a particularly good one at that. He was always easily bought off with a simple blow job."
She wasn't looking at me now, I guess she was scared to. Rose made notes, and poured herself a glass of water. I sat quiet. I don't think it was as bad as I expected, maybe because I knew that this was what I was here to hear.
"I felt dirty after that. I came home and had a bath, but it didn't help much. I cried myself to sleep that night. I swore to myself, never again. The next morning, before I could do anything, a package came through the door. It was from Ken, and was the most beautiful set of lingerie. Bra, panties and garter belt, all in wonderful deep maroon silk with black lace. You didn't have to look at the label to know that this had cost a fortune. I took it and went round there. I told him to take it back, that yesterday was all a mistake, that I loved you. All the things you would expect me to say. He was a perfect gentleman. He accepted all I had to say, he understood. And then he gave me the undies back, I might as well have them anyway. I got home and found them in my hand. I should have thrown them away, but they were so beautiful, so expensive, by far the most expensive clothes I had. So I didn't throw them away, I hid them."
She took another sip of water. He eyes were filling with tears. She took a handkerchief to dab her eyes, and then sat twisting it between her fingers. "Well, on the Thursday he invited me to lunch again. Just as friends you understand, to show there's no hard feeling. And, for some silly romantic notion, I wore the lingerie. Not for him as such, but it just seemed the right thing to do, it had a completeness about it. But he guessed, and he asked and I told him. So, when we got back he demanded a fashion show. He could be demanding, and I guess I felt I owed him that. So I did it, and one thing led to another, and we had sex. Oh Tim, I'm sorry. I didn't want it to happen. I knew I loved you, I knew it was wrong. But I did it, and I have no excuse." she was in floods of tears.
Rose offered her a box of tissues. I sat silently. This is what I needed to hear, but I didn't know what I was meant to say, or what I wanted to say. I just sat there silently. I didn't cry, I didn't protest, I just sat there.
After some minutes, Beth had composed herself. "I went home and cried and cried and cried. I promised myself, never again. I decided that I wouldn't say anything. It would just be my guilty secret. Ken phoned on Friday morning. I just said 'Never again' and put the phone down on him."
She looked up at me. Without looking at Rose I said "So how did this turn into an affair?"
"Well, I was so scared that you would realise something was wrong, but you didn't. Or if you did you didn't say anything. So I thought I could put it behind me. Ken was away that week on some business. When he was back the following week he phoned me and I just put the phone down on him. That went on for some days, then he put a note through the door to say we were neighbours, we had to talk. And that made sense. So I started talking to him again, and he didn't invite me to lunch. After about three or even four weeks from that first time, I went into town one morning to pick up some bits and pieces. When I got back, Ken had his Bentley out on the drive. He asked me if I fancied a spin and maybe some lunch. I thought he meant in the Bentley, and I'd never had a ride in that, so I said yes. As it turned out, he called for me in the Mercedes, he saw my disappointment and used it as an excuse to buy the most expensive lunch ever. And I have to say it was wonderful to sit and choose gloriously expensive dishes and not have to worry about it. Then after lunch we were passing a florist and he went in and bought two dozen red roses for me. Two dozen! It was so wonderfully extravagant! He knew, I knew, that I would have to throw them away before the end of the afternoon, but that didn't stop him. And when we got home, I fell again. I think that was the time I regret most. That was the time that was the start of the slippery slope."
"You traded our marriage for two dozen red roses!" I exclaimed, bitterly.
"No, you know better than that, Tim." interjected Rose. "Now Beth is doing wonderfully well in what is a very difficult story for her to tell. Comments like that don't help. That's why I told you, you have to be quiet. Now, we can take a break if you want, even come back on another day if this is too much. But you cannot interrupt like that." Rose sat back and looked at us both, when neither of us said anything, she looked at Beth "Go on, you're doing fine."
"Well from there it was a quick and easy slide into an affair. At first it was exciting, sex with someone different after nine years of just you Tim. I'm sorry, but it was, not better or worse, just different. And that made it exciting. But very quickly I began to realise that Ken was actually a very selfish man and a lousy lover. He didn't care about me. Sex was missionary position, pump up and down until he was satisfied, then roll off for a drink or a cup of tea. All he cared about was himself. No foreplay or slow games. He just liked taking what he wanted. He did like giving orders, that was as near as we came to anything other than the act itself, 'Undress'. 'Open your legs'. That was the height of a sexy session for him. And he'd swap everything for a blow job. I found I was doing that more and more, because it saved me actually doing anything else. And Ken was selfish and arrogant in other things. He would only talk about things that interested him, usually his keys to success in business or his bloody Bentley. And he would just give orders 'Make me a cup of tea' or 'Pour me a whisky" never please or thank you, never 'would you like one'. I quickly knew I had to bring this to an end."
"And how about me in all that time?" I looked at Rose, but she allowed the question.
"I never lied to you. Frequently I would tell you if I'd been out with Ken. You trusted me, and you never asked questions, except to ask if I had a nice lunch. And I began to understand just the difference between making love to you, the man I loved, and having sex with Ken. There was no comparison. I promise you that Tim. I have learnt just how important and wonderful the sex between lovers is. I'm sorry I learnt it this way."
"Well, Beth, why don't you tell Tim what happened on that Thursday when he came home early." Rose suggested before I could respond to Beth's thoughts on our sex life.
"Well it was probably much as you thought it was. I went round there for lunch. Ken's no cook but he can assemble a wonderful salad lunch and choose the right wine. Then we had sex. It wasn't good for me, and I thought 'I think that's your last time, buddy', but I admit I didn't say anything. Then we went out to the pool, which is where you saw us. And, yes, he did send me for a drink for him, just after he'd told me to take my top off. He really did like to order me around. And, yes, I did strip off in front of him, it was another one of his barked orders, and I complied. I'm sorry. I very nearly told him what he could do with his selfish orders, but I wanted to choose my moment when I wasn't so angry, so I just did as he told me, and then went for a swim. That did make me very cold, and I did want to warm up, just like I told you, Tim. But when we went in, he wanted me again, but I refused and bought him off with another blow job. And then we did have that cup of tea, and yes, he did bore me with his Bentley photographs."
"So the g-string story was a lie?" I asked.
"Yes. Actually I didn't lie. But I did raise the idea and lead you to believe a lie. I'm sorry. But let me get to that bit. I came home to find an angry, slightly ***** husband all over the place with his emotions. I panicked and just wanted to get away whilst I thought out what to do, so I went upstairs for that shower. I already knew that my affair with Ken should be over, and here I was caught on what was probably the very last day of it. I really thought that was bad luck. Why me? Why caught now?"
She looked up at me, but I didn't react.
"I was scared to admit everything, I knew it would devastate you, I knew what we risked, what I had risked. And you weren't in a state to talk sensibly. I decided I had to get over this for the moment, maybe later we would be able to talk, but not then. So, for the first and only time in this whole affair, I prepared to lie to you, I took my g-string and washed it out and hung it up to dry. Then I came downstairs to worm my way out of your accusations. And I think I did OK. I'm sure you weren't totally satisfied, but I thought I might be able to get away with it. But then I asked what would have happened if I had admitted an affair and you said it would be instant divorce. That frightened me."
She paused for another sip of water. "After you'd gone to bed I sat downstairs and thought things through. I knew my affair with Ken was absolutely over, I would finish it with him totally and as soon as possible, that was the easy decision. Then I wanted to confess all, to talk to my friend, my husband, the one I would turn to when I was in trouble. And I couldn't. And I knew you still had some suspicions, or my guilty conscience told me that you should have, and that you would be hurting. I knew that. So, I decided that it would be selfish of me to confess everything just for my piece of mind. Better that I contain it all, and put your mind at rest. So, when I came to bed I guessed you were still lying there awake, and you certainly would have been with the noise I was making. I remember thinking that it was terribly significant that you pretended to be asleep, you weren't prepared to even talk to me. So I kissed you and told you that I would never ever be unfaithful to you. I know that was a promise about the future. I know I worded it that way, but I hoped it would bring you some comfort, and it was the only thing I could say. I didn't want to lie to you, and I did want you to know just how much I loved you."
She was weeping, tears were pouring down her face. Rose offered her the box of tissues again. "I'm sure you will have lots of questions, Tim. And then both of you have plenty to talk about. But I think that's enough for tonight. You both need a little time to understand what you're thinking now. I suggest we get back together on Saturday afternoon, it would suit me as Charlie will be playing golf, and I'm not working. How about you two?"
"No, Rose. I want to ask one more question, now." I was determined, and it showed in my voice. Rose looked at me, but didn't stop me "Beth, but what about Friday morning?"
Beth looked up, tears still running down her face. She sobbed and wiped her nose. "That was possibly the worse bit. If you want to torture someone, then be kind to them went they don't deserve it. But I thought it was best for both of us if I didn't say anything. I really did. I just had to get over this immediate terrible time, I had to be strong and not just throw myself on your mercy. But even then I was wavering, I think I was beginning to look for some way into the right words to confess, and then Jean turned up and the cat was out of the bag." she hung her head and wept.
Beth was still weeping and blowing her nose and sobbing, when Rose stood up to show that the meeting was over. We both agreed to three o'clock on Saturday. I hovered around, not sure what was expected of me, but Rose just told me to go home. So I did.
---
Phil phoned me on the Thursday, to ask how my meeting had gone, and whether I fancied joining them for a meal on the Friday evening. For once, I declined. I know that Denny would only want to talk about the meeting with Rose and Beth, and I didn't want to talk about that. I didn't know how I felt about it, and I had to have my thinking straight by Saturday.
When Saturday came round, I still wasn't complete in my view of Beth's story. But at least I had some thoughts and questions, I could say something.
Again, Beth was there before me, we gathered in Rose's sitting room. It looked exactly as it had done on the Wednesday evening, accept the door was open to the garden, bathed in autumn sunlight. We sat exactly as we had before, even the mineral water on the table was the same brand.
Rose looked at us both, and then "Well Tim, I think it's your turn. What do you feel about what Beth had to say last time?"
"Well, I'm not sure I've thought it all through yet. I thought it was honest. I didn't like it all, some parts of it I hated. But I do recognise that it was very hard for Beth to talk like that, and I do appreciate that she did. I guess there are some parts where I want to shout at her WHY? They still don't make sense to me. She admits she knew it was terribly wrong from the very beginning. She even tells us that she didn't particularly like what they were doing. And yet she went on doing it. Why, for God's sake? Why?" I could feel myself getting upset, the anger and hurt were still bubbling up.
Before I could continue Rose turned to Beth "Well Beth, do you have any more you can add that might explain it in a way Tim could understand?"
"Not really. I have asked myself those questions so often. After the first time, it became steadily easier, one more time wouldn't hurt. And I can only assume that at some level I must have enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed being driven around in a large Mercedes by a rich and successful man, I enjoyed the fine wining and dining. At first I think I enjoyed the sex, it was different, and because of that it was exciting. Then, it became dull but I guess it was the price I paid for the excitement of the rest of it, and the excitement of this secret life. And then I became hurt by it and didn't like it and I wanted out, I still don't really understand why I didn't get out sooner, I let it drift" she looked up at me "It ran the gamut from a tentative start to exhaustion in three months, and actually was at its height for only a week or two in the middle. There weren't that many times of any real meaning. But I know that's still too much, still wrong." Beth seemed brighter, more relaxed, more willing to talk. I guess, for her the worst was over. She'd done the big confession bit.
I looked at her "On Wednesday there did seem to be a lot of blame put on Ken. But he didn't force you in any way did he?"
She sat back in her chair "Oh No! Without doubt he was the one that wanted the affair to happen. He instigated it, but he didn't force me. I went into it knowing exactly what I was doing. He only made it easy for me. " she paused, as if she was going to continue, which she did "The only time I ever felt some vague possible threat was towards the end. I don't think he actually said anything that could be construed as a threat, but he did manage to make me think 'what happens if I dump him and he cuts up rough. What damage will he do? Would he then either tell you or make sure you found out?' Certainly that thought went through my head, and maybe delayed my ending it by a bit."
Rose was taking notes, and was obviously prepared to jump in as a referee, but I suspect she was happy to let Beth and myself make the running.
I thought it was time I made a small confession "Did you ever get to ride in his Bentley?"
"No never. That Bentley was a sacred object, not to be sullied by letting your mistress ride in it."
"Well, you may still have your chance." Both Beth and Rose looked mystified. So I told them of Jean's revenge, and that I was likely to become the owner of the Bentley fairly soon. Both were amazed by the story.
It was Beth who observed "Perfect Jean. That's a revenge that will hurt."
Rose took a more diplomatic route "Well, it'll be up to Beth whether she has any difficulty dealing with Ken's Bentley being in your garage." I had to admit that I hadn't thought about that, what would Beth think of me driving around in her ex-lover's old car? That wouldn't be an easy one to deal with.
"Can I ask a slightly sexual question?" I looked at Rose.
"Sure, but it'll be up to Beth whether she answers it, but go ahead."
"OK. One minor thing that has been troubling me is my birthday. Suddenly you seemed to encourage me to shave your pussy. You've never done that before. So why then? Was it for Ken or at his request?"
"No. He had said, on a couple of occasions, that he thought the shaved pussies of models and porn actresses were very sexy. But he never asked me to do it, or even hinted that I should. I don't think anyone had ever done anything like that in his life before, not for him. I was just a bit scared that he might one day try it, and I didn't want him to do that, and I was scared how I might have to explain it to you. But I think all of that was just fear in my imagination. And then, on your birthday we got into that game play. And it seemed fun, it seemed to be something that I could give you. So I wanted you to do it, but I have to admit I was relieved that it meant Ken couldn't. He never even mentioned it. Maybe he never noticed, or did notice and liked to think it was for him, but didn't dare ask in case it wasn't. I don't know." Beth was definitely happy and bright to talk about these things. I felt it was me that was being slow and cautious.
"Can I go back to the Why question, because that is at the nub of our problem. If you weren't happy, if you found you felt jealous of Bev or Frances, why didn't you talk to me? We did talk about everything."
"Because I wasn't conscious that that was how I felt. If you'd ask me then I would have said I was happy, how I was looking forward to grouting the bathroom tiles at the weekend, it was another step on the way to us building our lovely home. And that's true, I was pleased to do it, don't think I begrudged it. But when talking to Rose I began to see that it had a downside too."
Rose poured herself a glass of water, Beth and myself watched her. "Well, unless you two have anything immediately obvious that you want to talk about that comes out of Beth's story I guess we can move on a stage." she waited while we answered her with silence. "OK. Then tell me Tim, how do you view your future now?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can see no excuse for what Beth did in what she's told me...."
Rose interrupted. "I don't think she was offering as an excuse. She seems to accept her fair share of blame in this story."
"Well, I still have to ask 'Why?'. There seemed to be a bit of buck passing, to Ken obviously, and to me a bit. She seemed to imply that somehow I'd not been there for her at critical times. Well, I've searched my conscience and I don't feel guilty. If I am then I'm sorry. But I don't think I did anything but trust you and love you, Beth."
"No Tim. I'm not blaming you for one second. What I did was wrong, but I did it. No one else is to blame." Beth answered directly to me.
Rose intervened "Tell me about talking to each other, especially about sex and important emotional things." She looked at us both, obviously either could answer.
I picked up the baton, and I saw Beth give me a little half smile acknowledging that I could answer. "Well, we are open and honest with each other. I think we're pretty well balanced sexually. What our needs are and how often. We've talked about all sorts of kinks and things, but I don't think either of us was particularly into those sorts of things. I did blindfold her once, it was good, I think we both enjoyed it, but it wasn't that special, and we never did it again."
"So there were no incompatibilities at all? How were you going to keep it interesting if you weren't trying new things, and surely they weren't always a success for both of you?" Rose seemed to be wishing some problem onto us. I wondered why?
Again I chose to answer. "Well, we could always talk. I remember I want to try anal sex, but Beth wouldn't go for it. Do you remember Beth? I tried to talk you into it for quite some time before I gave up on the idea?"
Beth blushed and looked up "Well you could try it now if you wanted..."
I looked at her, my mind racing "Oh Beth. Don't tell me you did, not with him?..."
"I told you he took what he wanted, when he wanted. I'm sorry Tim. It didn't seem that...."
I had stood up and was out of the garden door in a second. After all I'd heard, after all the pain, for some reason this was important, this was the final straw. I paced Rose and Charlie's lawn, immaculate but with some early leaves of autumn lying on it. Eventually I calmed down, but I was at the side of the house when I looked up. Rose was standing at the door to the sitting room, watching me. My car was in sight on the drive. I got into it and drove off.
---
On the Sunday morning I was working at my dining table. Timesheets, progress reports and work estimates for the ITP project spread out. My laptop open. It was about noon, and I was sitting back wondering what I would do about lunch when there was a knock at my door.
It was Rose, her eyes were blazing, she was obviously furious as I stood aside and she marched into the flat, straight to the living room. As I followed her she turned round to face me "How dare you walk out on me? I know those sessions can be hard. Shout if you want to. Cry if you want to - I'll pass you a tissue and hold your hand. But never walk out. Do I make myself clear? You do not, note the word not, walk out on a session. Now your lucky, I've calmed down a bit, I've been to Church this morning and some Christian charity has rubbed off on me, because otherwise Tim Williams...."
All I could say was "I'm sorry! I was upset."
Rose paused to look at me and let out a huge sigh. "I'll make some coffee. You'd better save whatever your doing on your computer. We've got some talking to do." And she went off to my kitchen.
In about five minutes she was back with two mugs of coffee. "So, what is so special about anal sex? You'd sat through a long and painful confession from Beth only three days beforehand and I thought you behaved remarkably well. I've had clients who have thrown the furniture around at that stage. And then you walk out on this. Why?"
"I don't know. It struck a nerve. I don't know I even want to talk about it."
She sat down on the sofa and looked at me, still standing at the table, shuffling papers. "I once had a couple who had driven miles to consult me, and I wondered why. They were on the point of splitting up, and yet neither would admit to any problem. I dug deeper and deeper, week after week. Nothing. And then, eventually, I got to it. He was an infantilist. He liked to wear a nappy and have his mummy look after him. I began to have sympathy for her. Then it got worse, he liked to mess his nappy and have his mummy clean him up and give him a fresh nappy. Well, if Charlie ever went near a nappy as far as I was concerned it would be grounds for divorce. This poor woman had put up with this for years. Can you image having to change a grown man's pooped nappy as sex play? Well, OK at least I'd got to the problem. But no, I was wrong. The problem was he expected her to wash and iron the nappies ready for next time. Once he agreed to do his own laundry they went off as happy as could be. To the best of my knowledge they are still together some fifteen years later. I've heard it all, Tim, don't bottle it up just because it's sex."
She passed me my coffee and I sat down in a chair. I was smiling at her story, and her eyes were now smiling.
"Oh, I don't know Rose. It isn't that I won't talk about it. It's that I don't know what to say. Yes, anal sex is something I really wanted to try. I talked to Beth about it and she was very very reluctant, scared it would hurt. I bought the lube and everything, I got her into position a couple of times, but as soon as I started, got anywhere near her, she was sobbing. Of course I gave up. It really wasn't so important that I would upset her over it. But when I heard yesterday, well..."
"Your male ego was hurt. That's OK. I can understand that. Another man, your wife. Something you've never done. It's OK Tim."
"I guess I'll get over it in time. After all, neither of us were virgins when we met. and her previous lovers have never worried me. I know I wasn't the first guy she gave a blow job to, but then again, she wasn't the first girl to give me one. Maybe that's part of it. There was one virgin hole left. One part of her that one day would be exclusively mine, or at least no other man's. I don't think I thought like that, but may be...."
"You know, Tim. I've been surprised that sex has featured very little in this case. I'm sure that your sex life with Beth was very important to you, I know it was to Beth. And yet, you haven't ranted and raved ever about the sex between her and Ken, not that it was much from what I understand. It's been about the betrayal of the relationship hasn't it? That she shared her mind as well as her body with someone else. Well, I can understand that, but I still think the sexual side needs some consideration. That's why I raised it yesterday. "
I took a sip of coffee. "Go on."
"Well, you and Beth have had a sexual relationship for about nine or ten years. Right?" I nodded. "Well, with the best will in the world, it can get stale. A range of comfortable positions. The usual fantasies you both like to talk about. Maybe the same nights of the week, or the infamous weekend mornings in bed? Great sex, both of you enjoy it, but predictable? That's why Beth found sex with Ken exciting and different to start. Maybe you both should give thought to how you can push it on to just something new. Not kinky, not outside your comfort zones. But just different to normal. A new experience. Look, you two are happy to talk about these things, imagine the problems of middle aged couples who have been married for twenty years and can't communicate about things. You and Beth have a huge advantage."
"You speak as if you think we'll get back together?" I looked at her.
"Well I don't know that. And it's not my job. My job is to make you both understand what happened, and be comfortable with what you both do in the future, together or apart. I told you, I'm not anti-divorce."
"And myself and Beth?"
"I don't know. I know she loves you, that you're her world. But she has lost some faith in you, because on this terrible occasion, and even though she brought it on herself, you didn't come through for her when she was in a mess. She knows the facts, she accepts the responsibility, but there is still shock inside her that you didn't put your arms around her and make her mistake go away. And, I don't think you were watching her yesterday, when you told us about Ken's Bentley. I don't think she liked that."
"And me?"
"You can answer that best. I think you still love her, but I think with every day that passes, you get more used to the idea of a life without her. I think you can accommodate what she did, and live with it. You are capable of moving forward to a new life with her. I know you don't really think she would ever do it again, and I certainly think she's learned her lesson. But I think there's a little righteous voice inside of you shouting 'She must be punished. She must suffer for her sins. You can't trust a hussy like her.' But at what price, Tim? At the price of your own future happiness? I can't answer that one."
She put her coffee mug down on the table, "I must go; Charlie will be waiting for me. And I've said what I've got to say. Phone me if you want to reconvene with Beth, or talk to her direct, you don't need me there. I've done my bit, I got Beth to tell the truth. It's up to you and Beth, whatever you both decide, you don't need a middle aged estate agent fussing around you." And she got up, I kissed her on both cheeks and she was gone.
I didn't do anything about it, and I really didn't want to talk to Phil, for fear that somehow it would get back to Beth through Denny. And anyway, until I had sifted all my muddled thoughts into sensible questions, there was no problem to discuss. Time will resolve things.
Work was as busy as ever. ITP paid the other half of their instalment payment, and management thought the sun shone out of an orifice I'd never see. I was obviously doing well, Darren and Sheila were really beginning to hate my guts.
Davinia was really getting into her job and the life of the department. One afternoon I was in my office talking with Dave when she brought us some tea. Dave watched her leave the office and turned to me with the one word summation of his thoughts "Pity!". I knew how he felt. "Yes, it's a pity. But there you are, one where we both came along too late."
In some ways I didn't mind that. Less time to pick at my emotional wounds, and maybe, as my Mother would say 'it'll only get better if you don't pick it' But work was hard work, and totally exhausting, and I still missed Beth to go home to with her understanding, help and support on tough days.
One bit of good news was that ITP had decided to pay half their instalment payment as a matter of good will. That cheered Neil up, and it helps to have a happy boss.
On Thursday I spent half the day interviewing new secretaries. This was new to me, interviewing programmers and other technical staff I could manage, I'd been interviewing them for years. But not secretaries. Luckily, Personnel were there to support. We did all the interviewing in their offices, and they did everything but the personal bit. I told them about the department and a little about me. We interviewed five, and by number four I was getting the hang of it. Unfortunately, it was number three who seemed the best, and she hadn't seen me at my best.
Anyway, myself and Personnel agreed, number three it would be, assuming she accepted. She was an attractive woman of twenty-four, called Davinia. And she liked amateur dramatics and crosswords, so she would fit in all right.
After work I went over to the pub with Dave.
"I saw you had a pleasant afternoon." was his opening gambit.
"What, interviewing secretaries? And how did you know?"
"Ah! Well....you see, I quite fancy Deana Treifuss in Accounts. And what floor is Accounts on?"
"The same one as Personnel. OK." I realised.
"Well choosing a secretary is easy. Big boobs and says yes to whatever is asked." he said with a leer.
"Do you really believe that?" I thought that he was being a bit too sexist, even for the pub and between mates, well before the third pint anyway, and even then only in the presence of some girls who you really want to annoy.
"No. You know I don't. But I've got an image to keep up. Did you find one?"
"Yes. I nice girl called Davinia. And keep your grubby little hands off. I could do without lover's tiffs in the office, especially if they involve my secretary."
"So you fancy her then." Was his only comment. And the trouble was, he could be right.
On Friday, Phil and Denny came round to Blindside for supper. Phil had made no secret of it when he had phoned me on Wednesday, Denny needed to look round. What I didn't know was that Denny had seen Beth on Tuesday. Obviously their Tuesday nights at Not Steinbeck's were becoming routine.
I asked how Beth had been. Denny looked nervously at Phil before she answered, "She told me about your Meissen plate story. I think, somehow it's changed her. She now really understands that you've gone and probably for good. It's taken this long for that to get through to her. I don't think she's got that much further in her thinking though. I asked her why she did it, and she couldn't answer. I asked: was Ken really attractive to her, there must have been something there between them. But she said he had a sort of mature glamour, that was her phrase, but not much else. I tried asking her: hadn't she realised that she was risking losing her whole marriage, didn't she realise why the wedding service had made her promise to be faithful, the forsaking all others bit? But she would only say that was a matter for the theologians, and they hadn't faced a randy Ken in full seduction mode on a boring afternoon? I think she was just trying to laugh it off."
Phil obviously hadn't heard this bit, because he asked "Is she saying Ken seduced her? That all of this is down to Ken? Is that her excuse?"
Denny looked at him, before she defended her friend. "No. I do think Ken did work hard to make it happen, but she wasn't really trying to absolve herself of having given in. In fact, half her problem is that everything is totally her fault, without any excuse whatsoever. She doesn't even try to work out what made her do it. But she will. She's got to. Or she will if I have anything to do with it." she turned to look at me "That's nothing to do with you, Tim. She needs to do that for her own sake."
"Let me know when she has. I'd like to know the reason for this whole damn mess, even if it doesn't put it right." Was my only reply, and then I took a large gulp of wine. "It can't put it right."
Two more weeks went by, mainly more hard work, long hours of travelling to keep clients happy, and some long heart to hearts with a couple of key guys on the ITP team, just to keep them on track.
August started on the first, but then again it usually does, only this one was a Monday, and Davinia's first day. I introduced her to some of the department, and some key players in the Company, like Neil's secretary. I didn't want to feed her to too many lions on one day. She really was a nice person. Nice enough that I found an excuse to invite her to lunch on Wednesday.
"Oh, that's very nice of you Tim, but really you don't have to." I think she was genuinely surprised.
"Sorry, it's part of your duties. Helping the boss fill in some important gaps in his life."
"Such as?" she asked dubiously.
"Like accompanying me to Not Steinbeck's. Don't tell me it's one of your favourite haunts. Everyone I know is in and out of there all the time, and I've not been since they opened."
"Actually they do quite a good chilli there." she looked quite happy.
"I knew it! I bloody knew it! Now your committed, you've got to come with me."
We had quite a good lunch. She had a good sense of humour, and easy to talk to. Unfortunately, I learnt that she was two years into a pretty firm affair, with a live in boyfriend, a school teacher. OK, he was going through a bit of a funny stage, having given up teaching at the end of the last term, and seemed to be showing no signs of taking up any other career, in fact currently he was a kept man. I could always introduce her to Jean.
We went back to the office, walking together easily, laughing and joking. We bumped into Dave as we came into Reception. I stopped for a business word with him, she went on to the department. We watched her leave. Dave told me not to bother, she had a live in boyfriend. He doesn't waste time, it was only her third day. But who was I to talk?
The next day, Dave and Alice came round for an impromptu barbeque on my roof terrace. There is definitely something between those two, they really ought to get their act together. If they don't I can imagine myself making a play for Alice sometime in the future, when I get round to risking my first foray into that dangerous world of relationships. But not yet, I was beginning to like my single life. I was beginning to notice that I was fancying women again, and even more important, I was feeling good, I even thought that one of them might fancy me.
Then we got to my wedding anniversary on 11th August. It fell on a Thursday, and it sort of glowed as a date on my calendar at work and in my diary.
On the Wednesday, Denny phoned me. Apparently she had seen Beth the night before, as usual. And Beth was very uptight about what to do. Should she send me a card? Should she send me a present? Should she try to meet me? So, Denny wanted to know what I was going to do. Nothing was my simple answer. I was going to work hard and late and hope that it would pass without me having to think. What else could I do?
That Wednesday was a lovely warm summer's evening. I sat on my terrace and thought of Beth. I thought of our previous anniversaries. In the last couple of years we had taken to just having a special meal at home, to save money as the house demanded every penny we had. But we would dress up, eat well, dance together by candlelight and make love. We didn't need expensive restaurants, we had each other. It all made me very sad, and I cried. I had thought I was over the crying bit, but I still wanted her so much it hurt. Oh! Why had she destroyed it all?
On the Thursday I got home at about nine o'clock after another late night at my desk. There, on the iron staircase to my front door sat Beth. She stood as I approached. "Hello. You promised me that you would show me round. I thought tonight might be a good time."
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say. I led the way up the stairs and opened the front door. She went in. I showed her around, it didn't take long, with a formal commentary from me. Eventually we were back in the living room, facing each other. She looked good, so very good.
"It's lovely Tim. I can see why you wanted it. And you've made it look good with the things you brought. Those cushions look good on that sofa."
"Would you like a drink? I don't keep any champagne anymore, there's not a lot to celebrate these days." The hurt was bubbling up again.
She ignored my barb. "Some white wine, if you have it. Please."
I opened a bottle from the fridge and poured two glasses. I passed her a glass "You're looking good Beth. I could almost fancy you." I tried joking, but it didn't work. Dammit! I did fancy her.
"Thank you." she looked at me, but I don't know what she read in my eyes. "How are you, Tim? Are you happy?"
"No, of course I'm not happy. But it's getting better. This place helps, and I'm working hard, doing long hours. Did you wait for me for a long time?"
"It didn't matter. I am sorry Tim. I know I've hurt you a lot. I've hurt myself a lot as well. I was a fool."
"Don't let's go over it again. There's no point, Beth. You broke the rules and this is the result. I wish it wasn't, but you never gave me reason to think anything different."
"And now?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" I answered her question with a question.
"Would you let me talk to you now? Now that we've both tasted the future, would you talk to me now?"
"No. Not about what maybe. There is no maybe for us until we talk about the whats and whys of the past. You know that Beth. And even then..."
"I know, no promises. What do you want me to say Tim? What can I say to put it right?"
"Nothing but the truth." I paused and looked at her. "Oh Beth, I wish you hadn't come here tonight. You're only hurting both of us. I had created the vague possibility of being able to build a new life, hard work - a new home - a bachelor's life...."
"Like Dave's you mean? An endless circle of one night stands, the occasional affair that lasts a month or two. God, Tim. I know you, you don't want that. Is that how you see this flat? As a bachelor's lair for seducing silly young girl's you can pick up in some seedy nightclub? Good God, Tim, you'll be getting a sports car next and trying to impress them with old wines and Barry White on the hi-fi."
I laughed to myself. Now didn't seem the moment to tell her that my new car was being delivered tomorrow. I turned to her, "Dave's life isn't that shallow. And anyway, I've tried faithfulness and domesticity - it doesn't work, or not for me anyway." There I go again, still trying to hurt.
I looked at her "I'm sorry, Beth. I shouldn't have said that. Maybe you should go."
She burst into tears with a loud sob. "Don't send me away again. You did that once before. Not tonight, please."
I sat down and drained my wine glass, and then poured myself another glassful. I looked at her, she sat crumpled on the sofa, wiping her eyes with a pretty lace handkerchief. She looked so vulnerable, I wanted to hold her, comfort her, but I didn't trust myself.
"Look, Beth. Why don't you talk to Rose Bullard. You need to understand everything that's happened, to understand yourself and to understand me." I got my wallet out of my jacket pocket and found Rose's card, the one Charlie had given to me all those weeks ago on Fateful Friday. I gave it to her, she held it in her hand and looked at it suspiciously. "She's a nice lady, you'll like her. I'll phone her in the morning and tell her you'll be calling her. And anyway, if you like her, then she can sell the house for us."
That produced another round of tears. I went and sat next to her and patted her back. She tried to cuddle in, but I moved away. That produced more tears. Eventually she was composed, and I made a mug of coffee, but we didn't talk much. We just sat in silence until she had ***** her coffee, when she left. She kissed me on the cheek as she went out of the front door "Happy Anniversary. My darling Tim." Some Anniversary!
I phoned Rose in the morning and told her that she may get a call from Beth. On the other hand, maybe she wouldn't.
It was the 11th September that I found out whether she ever went to see Rose. I'd asked Denny, but she didn't know or wasn't telling me. Anyway, I had an invite for Sunday lunch at the Bullard's. Charlie and Rose were there, but there was no sign of Simon and Maddy. Their ******** Camilla was there, back from doing a year's aid work in Africa, and with plenty of good stories to keep the conversation flowing.
After lunch, Rose asked me if I'd like to see their plum tree in the garden, of which she was particularly proud. I wondered why I would want to, but became more interested when Camilla threatened to join us with "I haven't really looked around the garden since I got back." but her father put his hand on her shoulder and held her back. Then I knew Rose really wanted to talk to me.
"I've been seeing Beth for about three weeks now. She is a lovely girl, I can see why you fell in love with her, Tim." was her opener.
"How is she?"
"Oh. She's well. I think she's ready to talk now. It's taken her a long time, she's so riddled with guilt; it took a lot of time to get through her layers of guilt and self loathing. But she's better now. I think she has an honest understanding of what happened."
I stopped and looked at Rose. "Well?"
"Oh, I'm not going to tell you. That's up to you and her. But, I think you have to make up your mind as to what you really want, Tim."
"I'd like to hear what she has to say. It won't make any difference, but it may lay some ghosts to rest. I might find closure. Isn't that what you people say?"
"Yes. But that's unfair on her. It's a horrid thing for her to have to do. To come here and relive it all just for some commission of enquiry for your better understanding. Do you really think that whatever she said, nothing could let you forgive her and try again?"
"I don't know Rose. One half of me desperately wants to believe that. That there is a way back. But, I'm sorry. I don't think I'll change my mind."
"Why not? Because you're scared? Scared to go back and get hurt again? I don't blame you. I'd be scared if I were you. I saw that look in Charlie's eyes over thirty years ago. Scared to love again, it only leads to hurt. Well you're not Charlie, and Beth isn't like Charlie's first wife. Your individuals, and life is what you make it, but it's never without risks."
I walked on, to the end of their manicured lawn. "Who does the gardening here, Rose? You or Charlie? It's always so damned immaculate."
"Neither of us. One of the advantages of success is that we can afford a gardener. And I hear that, because of you, we can go on affording him. I guess I owe you thanks for that. Let me repay you, let me help you hear what Beth has got to say with an open mind, Tim. You owe it to yourself. It may be that it's not enough for you. But please don't make up your mind until you've heard her. Give the poor girl a fair trial, Tim."
"How long have I got?"
"To decide whether to see her or not? As long as you want. And I promise you Tim, I'll hold your hand the whole time. It might hurt. It might not be good enough. But you've got to do it."
"I'll think about it. Say goodbye to Charlie for me. I'll walk round the house and just go home. I think I need to sit and think."
I phoned Phil as I sat in my car outside Trafalgar House on my return. We met at the King's Head on the Monday evening.
As soon as we had our drinks in our hands I opened, "Did you know that Beth was seeing Rose Bullard?"
"Yes, but I was sworn to secrecy. She told Denny. But I don't think even Denny knows how it's going. How did you find out?"
"Rose told me. Apparently she's ready to talk. But I have to be prepared to take her back if she has an adequate excuse. How can she have? How can I make open promises? But I would like to know what really happened. It's my life too that she played with."
Phil too a long draught. Then carefully put his beer down on the table in front of him. Holding it with two hands, staring at it. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know. That's why we're having this drink. Tell me Phil, what would you do?"
"That's unfair and it has nothing to do with it. It's about what you want to do, Tim. Not me."
"Oh I know that. But if you won't tell me, then you might as well sit there while I bore you to tears whilst trying to make up my own mind." I smiled at him.
He winced, and we both drank our beers. Eventually, Phil broke into my thoughts with a question, "Do you still love Beth?"
I looked up at him. That was a question that I wish he hadn't asked. "Yes. I still miss her like hell. But I'm just beginning to get used to living without her, and I know I will eventually get over her. But I know I wouldn't be able to go and hear her out without fervently praying that she could talk me round. But I don't believe she can. I don't believe she should. So, I'll just be going along just to get hurt some more. I'm scared Phil. Rose spotted that."
"Shrewd woman, that Rose. She's got Beth to talk, which is more than the combined forces of Denny and Mary ever managed, and they're quite formidable when working as a team. And she has some idea of the petard that you've hoisted yourself on." He smiled. "I'd trust her, I think."
We both drank our beer and sat in silence. We finished our beers. I went and got two more. When I got back, Phil had another question, "Tell me. Are you sure you're not enjoying this a little bit. You sit there in judgement. You'll decide whether you'll give Beth a hearing. You'll decide whether she has made an adequate excuse. You'll decide whether you'll divorce her. I thought a marriage was a sharing of two people, with compromises and give and take. If you really approach it like this, I wouldn't blame Beth if she didn't want to take you back. Think about it."
"But she is the one that broke the marriage. I'm entitled to make my decisions about my life." I said, and even I knew I sounded pompous.
"Yes and no. Yes she broke the marriage. But No, this isn't about the old marriage. This is about the future marriage. When you've heard her, if you hear her, then both of you, not just you, have to decide whether you want to go forward. You're entitled to your say Tim, but it takes two."
I sat in silence. I didn't like being browbeaten by my best friend. But if he couldn't do it, then who could?
I looked up at him, "I guess I'm going to a marriage counsellor."
"Good. Can I go home now?"
"When you've finished your beer, yes. Oh.... and thank you."
"What for?"
"For listening. For arguing. I need you to argue back, even if you make lousy points. And for being here."
"All part of the service." he smiled
---
We met at Charlie and Rose's house in the evening of the Wednesday in the next week. Beth was already there when I arrived, sitting in a chair in the sitting room, looking nervous and pale. There was a bottle of mineral water and glasses laid out on the coffee table in the centre of the room. I sat in another armchair. Rose sat on the sofa, with a file of papers on the seat next to her. She kept notes, my marriage was a set of notes in some filing cabinet.
Rose looked at us both. "There are some things I should say before we start. First, this meeting and any others we have are totally confidential. If you're worried about Charlie and work, Tim, don't. Charlie knows this is nothing to do with him. As a counsellor I will tell you that it's best if there are no secrets in a marriage, but there are between Charlie and myself, the things that go on when I'm counselling. Second, and this is really aimed at you Tim for this evening, but applies to you both really, there will be no interruptions when Beth is telling her story. If you've got things to say then keep them to the end." Rose looked at me and then Beth to make sure we had taken her warnings on board.
Then she turned to Beth "Well I think the starting point has to be if Beth can tell us about her life and what happened that led up to her affair with Ken."
Beth looked up at Rose, then at me, "Rose says I don't have to say this, Tim, but I want to. I'll tell you what happened between myself and Ken, but I want you to know that these aren't excuses. There is no excuse for what I did, but maybe they do explain something of why I made such a dreadful mistake."
I didn't answer. So she continued "I think early this year I was tired. Not needing more sleep tired, I was tired of the draining effect that doing the house had cost us. I was fed up that we never had any money or time. I was probably the one that wanted it that way, but I was tired that we had so often had to choose between a good holiday or dining room carpet, a night out at a nice restaurant or new bedroom curtains. Everything we did, every penny we spent was about the house. Now I was the one that wanted us to have a nice home, it was always my idea that we go camping in Scotland rather than flying to the sun, it's not your fault, Tim, and I'm not complaining, but I think it took its toll on me."
Beth stopped and looked at me. Rose seemed to make a short note on her pad. I sat in silence. Beth then went on "There were days when I didn't speak to anyone all day except you Tim. Some days my work might only consist of reading notes and papers, watching some marketing video's and reading and writing some emails. I was grateful if Ken suggested a pub lunch. I never hid that from you Tim. I think I always told you if I had a break with Ken in the pub or a cup of tea at ours or their house in the afternoon, and there was nothing in those early lunches, I promise you."
Again, Rose seemed to make a note. I opened my mouth to say something about how I was pleased if she had gone to lunch with Ken, but Rose held up her hand at me and gave me a look that silenced me. Beth resumed her tale, "I think one of the things that influenced me was whenever I talked to Frances or Bev. They seemed to have such exciting lives. I know they weren't really worthwhile role models, but they did do more than I did. Their lives were pure drama."
At that I did explode. "They're not to be admired. Their lives are a mess." I turned to Rose "Do you know about those two, has she told you? They were Beth's friends at school. Bev is an unmarried mother of two from two different fathers, and she has no man in her life. Frances has ploughed through men and affairs, married men seem to be her speciality, and she's never found true love."
Rose turned to me "Of course I know who they are. But, for all that is wrong with their lives, they had something that Beth didn't, and some influence on Beth's thinking. Now, be quiet and listen. Go on Beth."
Beth looked at me "You're right, Tim. But Frances would be off on some new affair for a weekend in Paris, or Bev was juggling paternal visiting so that the two father's don't meet. And what was my planned weekend - to grout the tiles in the bathroom. Their lives may not be better than mine, but they were a hell of a lot more exciting. And there was another thing. They were always so jealous of me. 'It's alright for you, Beth, you've got Tim' or 'I wish I had a perfect life like you Beth' and my life wasn't perfect because nothing ever happened except choosing new curtaining or flushing out the drains. Do you know I remember some of the girls at work planning a Saturday of clothes shopping. One of them asked me if I'd like to go along, but another replied that I wouldn't be interested unless it was shopping for wallpaper. I made light of it and laughed, but it was true, and it hurt."
She stopped and poured herself a glass of water. "And then there was Ken. He had money, he was successful and assured. He could take me out to lunch and pay more for a single lunch than we would spend on curtains for our bedroom. I knew that what we were doing was for our own future, we were a young couple fighting our way up in life, but it was still lovely to have this man spend all that money on me. And he knew it was a weakness, and he used it."
She took a sip of water before she continued "Ken always flirted, he'd do it right in front of you Tim. It didn't matter, girls get used to dealing with men like Ken, but he could do it with intent. There is a difference between flirting which is just a clever word play game between friends, both of you knowing that it's totally meaningless. But with Ken it was flirting with intent. You knew that he was throwing down a challenge, putting a stake in the ground to show he was interested. It didn't matter, but again it was flattering."
I poured myself a glass of water. Rose made some notes. I looked at Rose to see if she would give me some indication that I could say something, but she just said, "You're doing well, Beth. Keep going."
So Beth took a sip of water and kept going, "Well, on top of the flirting, Ken would often just drop a little hint that adultery was OK. That a little affair could be fun, no one need find out, no one would get hurt. All the usual bullshit. He even went as far as saying it could strengthen a marriage, because you come to realise how important your partner was to you. And this had gone on slowly and carefully over two to three years, him carefully dropping the seeds of an idea. I could happily ignore it, or so I thought. And then, one Friday in early April Ken invited me to lunch, there was nothing special about it. But he made his intentions very obvious. It really worried me, partly because we might have an awkward problem with a neighbour, but also I have to admit I was tempted. I had to talk to you about it, because that's what we always did, we talked about these sort of things, a problem shared and all that. But you came in late that Friday, Perry had been on your back about something, and you were trying to clear your desk to go away on a course for the next week. You came in tired, and upset, and with a DVD of a film you wanted to watch. So we had something to eat and watched the film, then you went to bed, and we didn't talk. Then over the weekend you were a bit depressed because it should have been Paul's birthday weekend, and anyway we were working hard in the garden for most of it. And on Sunday night you left to go to your course, and we never talked. It wasn't your fault, Tim, I'm not blaming you, you'd done nothing wrong. It just happened that way."
She looked at me. I guess I looked rather pale and withdrawn. I remember that weekend. Her description was fairly accurate.
Beth took a deep breath. Rose said "In your own time Beth. Your doing fine."
"Well, on the Monday, Ken called me and asked me to lunch again. I didn't want to go, but he said he knew of a wood near a wonderful restaurant, and the wild daffodils would be out. I knew I had to face him sometime, and seeing wild daffodils did sound lovely, so I went. He gave me a wonderful lunch, he was debonair and attentive and quite witty in his way. And he gave me too much wine to drink, and it was good wine and slipped down easily. He was driving, so it was down to me not to waste it. Well, to cut a long story short, when we got home he came on heavy again, and I gave him a blow job. I'm sorry Tim, but that's what happened. Later on I learnt that a blow job was the height of sexual ecstasy as far as Ken was concerned, and he didn't want a particularly good one at that. He was always easily bought off with a simple blow job."
She wasn't looking at me now, I guess she was scared to. Rose made notes, and poured herself a glass of water. I sat quiet. I don't think it was as bad as I expected, maybe because I knew that this was what I was here to hear.
"I felt dirty after that. I came home and had a bath, but it didn't help much. I cried myself to sleep that night. I swore to myself, never again. The next morning, before I could do anything, a package came through the door. It was from Ken, and was the most beautiful set of lingerie. Bra, panties and garter belt, all in wonderful deep maroon silk with black lace. You didn't have to look at the label to know that this had cost a fortune. I took it and went round there. I told him to take it back, that yesterday was all a mistake, that I loved you. All the things you would expect me to say. He was a perfect gentleman. He accepted all I had to say, he understood. And then he gave me the undies back, I might as well have them anyway. I got home and found them in my hand. I should have thrown them away, but they were so beautiful, so expensive, by far the most expensive clothes I had. So I didn't throw them away, I hid them."
She took another sip of water. He eyes were filling with tears. She took a handkerchief to dab her eyes, and then sat twisting it between her fingers. "Well, on the Thursday he invited me to lunch again. Just as friends you understand, to show there's no hard feeling. And, for some silly romantic notion, I wore the lingerie. Not for him as such, but it just seemed the right thing to do, it had a completeness about it. But he guessed, and he asked and I told him. So, when we got back he demanded a fashion show. He could be demanding, and I guess I felt I owed him that. So I did it, and one thing led to another, and we had sex. Oh Tim, I'm sorry. I didn't want it to happen. I knew I loved you, I knew it was wrong. But I did it, and I have no excuse." she was in floods of tears.
Rose offered her a box of tissues. I sat silently. This is what I needed to hear, but I didn't know what I was meant to say, or what I wanted to say. I just sat there silently. I didn't cry, I didn't protest, I just sat there.
After some minutes, Beth had composed herself. "I went home and cried and cried and cried. I promised myself, never again. I decided that I wouldn't say anything. It would just be my guilty secret. Ken phoned on Friday morning. I just said 'Never again' and put the phone down on him."
She looked up at me. Without looking at Rose I said "So how did this turn into an affair?"
"Well, I was so scared that you would realise something was wrong, but you didn't. Or if you did you didn't say anything. So I thought I could put it behind me. Ken was away that week on some business. When he was back the following week he phoned me and I just put the phone down on him. That went on for some days, then he put a note through the door to say we were neighbours, we had to talk. And that made sense. So I started talking to him again, and he didn't invite me to lunch. After about three or even four weeks from that first time, I went into town one morning to pick up some bits and pieces. When I got back, Ken had his Bentley out on the drive. He asked me if I fancied a spin and maybe some lunch. I thought he meant in the Bentley, and I'd never had a ride in that, so I said yes. As it turned out, he called for me in the Mercedes, he saw my disappointment and used it as an excuse to buy the most expensive lunch ever. And I have to say it was wonderful to sit and choose gloriously expensive dishes and not have to worry about it. Then after lunch we were passing a florist and he went in and bought two dozen red roses for me. Two dozen! It was so wonderfully extravagant! He knew, I knew, that I would have to throw them away before the end of the afternoon, but that didn't stop him. And when we got home, I fell again. I think that was the time I regret most. That was the time that was the start of the slippery slope."
"You traded our marriage for two dozen red roses!" I exclaimed, bitterly.
"No, you know better than that, Tim." interjected Rose. "Now Beth is doing wonderfully well in what is a very difficult story for her to tell. Comments like that don't help. That's why I told you, you have to be quiet. Now, we can take a break if you want, even come back on another day if this is too much. But you cannot interrupt like that." Rose sat back and looked at us both, when neither of us said anything, she looked at Beth "Go on, you're doing fine."
"Well from there it was a quick and easy slide into an affair. At first it was exciting, sex with someone different after nine years of just you Tim. I'm sorry, but it was, not better or worse, just different. And that made it exciting. But very quickly I began to realise that Ken was actually a very selfish man and a lousy lover. He didn't care about me. Sex was missionary position, pump up and down until he was satisfied, then roll off for a drink or a cup of tea. All he cared about was himself. No foreplay or slow games. He just liked taking what he wanted. He did like giving orders, that was as near as we came to anything other than the act itself, 'Undress'. 'Open your legs'. That was the height of a sexy session for him. And he'd swap everything for a blow job. I found I was doing that more and more, because it saved me actually doing anything else. And Ken was selfish and arrogant in other things. He would only talk about things that interested him, usually his keys to success in business or his bloody Bentley. And he would just give orders 'Make me a cup of tea' or 'Pour me a whisky" never please or thank you, never 'would you like one'. I quickly knew I had to bring this to an end."
"And how about me in all that time?" I looked at Rose, but she allowed the question.
"I never lied to you. Frequently I would tell you if I'd been out with Ken. You trusted me, and you never asked questions, except to ask if I had a nice lunch. And I began to understand just the difference between making love to you, the man I loved, and having sex with Ken. There was no comparison. I promise you that Tim. I have learnt just how important and wonderful the sex between lovers is. I'm sorry I learnt it this way."
"Well, Beth, why don't you tell Tim what happened on that Thursday when he came home early." Rose suggested before I could respond to Beth's thoughts on our sex life.
"Well it was probably much as you thought it was. I went round there for lunch. Ken's no cook but he can assemble a wonderful salad lunch and choose the right wine. Then we had sex. It wasn't good for me, and I thought 'I think that's your last time, buddy', but I admit I didn't say anything. Then we went out to the pool, which is where you saw us. And, yes, he did send me for a drink for him, just after he'd told me to take my top off. He really did like to order me around. And, yes, I did strip off in front of him, it was another one of his barked orders, and I complied. I'm sorry. I very nearly told him what he could do with his selfish orders, but I wanted to choose my moment when I wasn't so angry, so I just did as he told me, and then went for a swim. That did make me very cold, and I did want to warm up, just like I told you, Tim. But when we went in, he wanted me again, but I refused and bought him off with another blow job. And then we did have that cup of tea, and yes, he did bore me with his Bentley photographs."
"So the g-string story was a lie?" I asked.
"Yes. Actually I didn't lie. But I did raise the idea and lead you to believe a lie. I'm sorry. But let me get to that bit. I came home to find an angry, slightly ***** husband all over the place with his emotions. I panicked and just wanted to get away whilst I thought out what to do, so I went upstairs for that shower. I already knew that my affair with Ken should be over, and here I was caught on what was probably the very last day of it. I really thought that was bad luck. Why me? Why caught now?"
She looked up at me, but I didn't react.
"I was scared to admit everything, I knew it would devastate you, I knew what we risked, what I had risked. And you weren't in a state to talk sensibly. I decided I had to get over this for the moment, maybe later we would be able to talk, but not then. So, for the first and only time in this whole affair, I prepared to lie to you, I took my g-string and washed it out and hung it up to dry. Then I came downstairs to worm my way out of your accusations. And I think I did OK. I'm sure you weren't totally satisfied, but I thought I might be able to get away with it. But then I asked what would have happened if I had admitted an affair and you said it would be instant divorce. That frightened me."
She paused for another sip of water. "After you'd gone to bed I sat downstairs and thought things through. I knew my affair with Ken was absolutely over, I would finish it with him totally and as soon as possible, that was the easy decision. Then I wanted to confess all, to talk to my friend, my husband, the one I would turn to when I was in trouble. And I couldn't. And I knew you still had some suspicions, or my guilty conscience told me that you should have, and that you would be hurting. I knew that. So, I decided that it would be selfish of me to confess everything just for my piece of mind. Better that I contain it all, and put your mind at rest. So, when I came to bed I guessed you were still lying there awake, and you certainly would have been with the noise I was making. I remember thinking that it was terribly significant that you pretended to be asleep, you weren't prepared to even talk to me. So I kissed you and told you that I would never ever be unfaithful to you. I know that was a promise about the future. I know I worded it that way, but I hoped it would bring you some comfort, and it was the only thing I could say. I didn't want to lie to you, and I did want you to know just how much I loved you."
She was weeping, tears were pouring down her face. Rose offered her the box of tissues again. "I'm sure you will have lots of questions, Tim. And then both of you have plenty to talk about. But I think that's enough for tonight. You both need a little time to understand what you're thinking now. I suggest we get back together on Saturday afternoon, it would suit me as Charlie will be playing golf, and I'm not working. How about you two?"
"No, Rose. I want to ask one more question, now." I was determined, and it showed in my voice. Rose looked at me, but didn't stop me "Beth, but what about Friday morning?"
Beth looked up, tears still running down her face. She sobbed and wiped her nose. "That was possibly the worse bit. If you want to torture someone, then be kind to them went they don't deserve it. But I thought it was best for both of us if I didn't say anything. I really did. I just had to get over this immediate terrible time, I had to be strong and not just throw myself on your mercy. But even then I was wavering, I think I was beginning to look for some way into the right words to confess, and then Jean turned up and the cat was out of the bag." she hung her head and wept.
Beth was still weeping and blowing her nose and sobbing, when Rose stood up to show that the meeting was over. We both agreed to three o'clock on Saturday. I hovered around, not sure what was expected of me, but Rose just told me to go home. So I did.
---
Phil phoned me on the Thursday, to ask how my meeting had gone, and whether I fancied joining them for a meal on the Friday evening. For once, I declined. I know that Denny would only want to talk about the meeting with Rose and Beth, and I didn't want to talk about that. I didn't know how I felt about it, and I had to have my thinking straight by Saturday.
When Saturday came round, I still wasn't complete in my view of Beth's story. But at least I had some thoughts and questions, I could say something.
Again, Beth was there before me, we gathered in Rose's sitting room. It looked exactly as it had done on the Wednesday evening, accept the door was open to the garden, bathed in autumn sunlight. We sat exactly as we had before, even the mineral water on the table was the same brand.
Rose looked at us both, and then "Well Tim, I think it's your turn. What do you feel about what Beth had to say last time?"
"Well, I'm not sure I've thought it all through yet. I thought it was honest. I didn't like it all, some parts of it I hated. But I do recognise that it was very hard for Beth to talk like that, and I do appreciate that she did. I guess there are some parts where I want to shout at her WHY? They still don't make sense to me. She admits she knew it was terribly wrong from the very beginning. She even tells us that she didn't particularly like what they were doing. And yet she went on doing it. Why, for God's sake? Why?" I could feel myself getting upset, the anger and hurt were still bubbling up.
Before I could continue Rose turned to Beth "Well Beth, do you have any more you can add that might explain it in a way Tim could understand?"
"Not really. I have asked myself those questions so often. After the first time, it became steadily easier, one more time wouldn't hurt. And I can only assume that at some level I must have enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed being driven around in a large Mercedes by a rich and successful man, I enjoyed the fine wining and dining. At first I think I enjoyed the sex, it was different, and because of that it was exciting. Then, it became dull but I guess it was the price I paid for the excitement of the rest of it, and the excitement of this secret life. And then I became hurt by it and didn't like it and I wanted out, I still don't really understand why I didn't get out sooner, I let it drift" she looked up at me "It ran the gamut from a tentative start to exhaustion in three months, and actually was at its height for only a week or two in the middle. There weren't that many times of any real meaning. But I know that's still too much, still wrong." Beth seemed brighter, more relaxed, more willing to talk. I guess, for her the worst was over. She'd done the big confession bit.
I looked at her "On Wednesday there did seem to be a lot of blame put on Ken. But he didn't force you in any way did he?"
She sat back in her chair "Oh No! Without doubt he was the one that wanted the affair to happen. He instigated it, but he didn't force me. I went into it knowing exactly what I was doing. He only made it easy for me. " she paused, as if she was going to continue, which she did "The only time I ever felt some vague possible threat was towards the end. I don't think he actually said anything that could be construed as a threat, but he did manage to make me think 'what happens if I dump him and he cuts up rough. What damage will he do? Would he then either tell you or make sure you found out?' Certainly that thought went through my head, and maybe delayed my ending it by a bit."
Rose was taking notes, and was obviously prepared to jump in as a referee, but I suspect she was happy to let Beth and myself make the running.
I thought it was time I made a small confession "Did you ever get to ride in his Bentley?"
"No never. That Bentley was a sacred object, not to be sullied by letting your mistress ride in it."
"Well, you may still have your chance." Both Beth and Rose looked mystified. So I told them of Jean's revenge, and that I was likely to become the owner of the Bentley fairly soon. Both were amazed by the story.
It was Beth who observed "Perfect Jean. That's a revenge that will hurt."
Rose took a more diplomatic route "Well, it'll be up to Beth whether she has any difficulty dealing with Ken's Bentley being in your garage." I had to admit that I hadn't thought about that, what would Beth think of me driving around in her ex-lover's old car? That wouldn't be an easy one to deal with.
"Can I ask a slightly sexual question?" I looked at Rose.
"Sure, but it'll be up to Beth whether she answers it, but go ahead."
"OK. One minor thing that has been troubling me is my birthday. Suddenly you seemed to encourage me to shave your pussy. You've never done that before. So why then? Was it for Ken or at his request?"
"No. He had said, on a couple of occasions, that he thought the shaved pussies of models and porn actresses were very sexy. But he never asked me to do it, or even hinted that I should. I don't think anyone had ever done anything like that in his life before, not for him. I was just a bit scared that he might one day try it, and I didn't want him to do that, and I was scared how I might have to explain it to you. But I think all of that was just fear in my imagination. And then, on your birthday we got into that game play. And it seemed fun, it seemed to be something that I could give you. So I wanted you to do it, but I have to admit I was relieved that it meant Ken couldn't. He never even mentioned it. Maybe he never noticed, or did notice and liked to think it was for him, but didn't dare ask in case it wasn't. I don't know." Beth was definitely happy and bright to talk about these things. I felt it was me that was being slow and cautious.
"Can I go back to the Why question, because that is at the nub of our problem. If you weren't happy, if you found you felt jealous of Bev or Frances, why didn't you talk to me? We did talk about everything."
"Because I wasn't conscious that that was how I felt. If you'd ask me then I would have said I was happy, how I was looking forward to grouting the bathroom tiles at the weekend, it was another step on the way to us building our lovely home. And that's true, I was pleased to do it, don't think I begrudged it. But when talking to Rose I began to see that it had a downside too."
Rose poured herself a glass of water, Beth and myself watched her. "Well, unless you two have anything immediately obvious that you want to talk about that comes out of Beth's story I guess we can move on a stage." she waited while we answered her with silence. "OK. Then tell me Tim, how do you view your future now?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can see no excuse for what Beth did in what she's told me...."
Rose interrupted. "I don't think she was offering as an excuse. She seems to accept her fair share of blame in this story."
"Well, I still have to ask 'Why?'. There seemed to be a bit of buck passing, to Ken obviously, and to me a bit. She seemed to imply that somehow I'd not been there for her at critical times. Well, I've searched my conscience and I don't feel guilty. If I am then I'm sorry. But I don't think I did anything but trust you and love you, Beth."
"No Tim. I'm not blaming you for one second. What I did was wrong, but I did it. No one else is to blame." Beth answered directly to me.
Rose intervened "Tell me about talking to each other, especially about sex and important emotional things." She looked at us both, obviously either could answer.
I picked up the baton, and I saw Beth give me a little half smile acknowledging that I could answer. "Well, we are open and honest with each other. I think we're pretty well balanced sexually. What our needs are and how often. We've talked about all sorts of kinks and things, but I don't think either of us was particularly into those sorts of things. I did blindfold her once, it was good, I think we both enjoyed it, but it wasn't that special, and we never did it again."
"So there were no incompatibilities at all? How were you going to keep it interesting if you weren't trying new things, and surely they weren't always a success for both of you?" Rose seemed to be wishing some problem onto us. I wondered why?
Again I chose to answer. "Well, we could always talk. I remember I want to try anal sex, but Beth wouldn't go for it. Do you remember Beth? I tried to talk you into it for quite some time before I gave up on the idea?"
Beth blushed and looked up "Well you could try it now if you wanted..."
I looked at her, my mind racing "Oh Beth. Don't tell me you did, not with him?..."
"I told you he took what he wanted, when he wanted. I'm sorry Tim. It didn't seem that...."
I had stood up and was out of the garden door in a second. After all I'd heard, after all the pain, for some reason this was important, this was the final straw. I paced Rose and Charlie's lawn, immaculate but with some early leaves of autumn lying on it. Eventually I calmed down, but I was at the side of the house when I looked up. Rose was standing at the door to the sitting room, watching me. My car was in sight on the drive. I got into it and drove off.
---
On the Sunday morning I was working at my dining table. Timesheets, progress reports and work estimates for the ITP project spread out. My laptop open. It was about noon, and I was sitting back wondering what I would do about lunch when there was a knock at my door.
It was Rose, her eyes were blazing, she was obviously furious as I stood aside and she marched into the flat, straight to the living room. As I followed her she turned round to face me "How dare you walk out on me? I know those sessions can be hard. Shout if you want to. Cry if you want to - I'll pass you a tissue and hold your hand. But never walk out. Do I make myself clear? You do not, note the word not, walk out on a session. Now your lucky, I've calmed down a bit, I've been to Church this morning and some Christian charity has rubbed off on me, because otherwise Tim Williams...."
All I could say was "I'm sorry! I was upset."
Rose paused to look at me and let out a huge sigh. "I'll make some coffee. You'd better save whatever your doing on your computer. We've got some talking to do." And she went off to my kitchen.
In about five minutes she was back with two mugs of coffee. "So, what is so special about anal sex? You'd sat through a long and painful confession from Beth only three days beforehand and I thought you behaved remarkably well. I've had clients who have thrown the furniture around at that stage. And then you walk out on this. Why?"
"I don't know. It struck a nerve. I don't know I even want to talk about it."
She sat down on the sofa and looked at me, still standing at the table, shuffling papers. "I once had a couple who had driven miles to consult me, and I wondered why. They were on the point of splitting up, and yet neither would admit to any problem. I dug deeper and deeper, week after week. Nothing. And then, eventually, I got to it. He was an infantilist. He liked to wear a nappy and have his mummy look after him. I began to have sympathy for her. Then it got worse, he liked to mess his nappy and have his mummy clean him up and give him a fresh nappy. Well, if Charlie ever went near a nappy as far as I was concerned it would be grounds for divorce. This poor woman had put up with this for years. Can you image having to change a grown man's pooped nappy as sex play? Well, OK at least I'd got to the problem. But no, I was wrong. The problem was he expected her to wash and iron the nappies ready for next time. Once he agreed to do his own laundry they went off as happy as could be. To the best of my knowledge they are still together some fifteen years later. I've heard it all, Tim, don't bottle it up just because it's sex."
She passed me my coffee and I sat down in a chair. I was smiling at her story, and her eyes were now smiling.
"Oh, I don't know Rose. It isn't that I won't talk about it. It's that I don't know what to say. Yes, anal sex is something I really wanted to try. I talked to Beth about it and she was very very reluctant, scared it would hurt. I bought the lube and everything, I got her into position a couple of times, but as soon as I started, got anywhere near her, she was sobbing. Of course I gave up. It really wasn't so important that I would upset her over it. But when I heard yesterday, well..."
"Your male ego was hurt. That's OK. I can understand that. Another man, your wife. Something you've never done. It's OK Tim."
"I guess I'll get over it in time. After all, neither of us were virgins when we met. and her previous lovers have never worried me. I know I wasn't the first guy she gave a blow job to, but then again, she wasn't the first girl to give me one. Maybe that's part of it. There was one virgin hole left. One part of her that one day would be exclusively mine, or at least no other man's. I don't think I thought like that, but may be...."
"You know, Tim. I've been surprised that sex has featured very little in this case. I'm sure that your sex life with Beth was very important to you, I know it was to Beth. And yet, you haven't ranted and raved ever about the sex between her and Ken, not that it was much from what I understand. It's been about the betrayal of the relationship hasn't it? That she shared her mind as well as her body with someone else. Well, I can understand that, but I still think the sexual side needs some consideration. That's why I raised it yesterday. "
I took a sip of coffee. "Go on."
"Well, you and Beth have had a sexual relationship for about nine or ten years. Right?" I nodded. "Well, with the best will in the world, it can get stale. A range of comfortable positions. The usual fantasies you both like to talk about. Maybe the same nights of the week, or the infamous weekend mornings in bed? Great sex, both of you enjoy it, but predictable? That's why Beth found sex with Ken exciting and different to start. Maybe you both should give thought to how you can push it on to just something new. Not kinky, not outside your comfort zones. But just different to normal. A new experience. Look, you two are happy to talk about these things, imagine the problems of middle aged couples who have been married for twenty years and can't communicate about things. You and Beth have a huge advantage."
"You speak as if you think we'll get back together?" I looked at her.
"Well I don't know that. And it's not my job. My job is to make you both understand what happened, and be comfortable with what you both do in the future, together or apart. I told you, I'm not anti-divorce."
"And myself and Beth?"
"I don't know. I know she loves you, that you're her world. But she has lost some faith in you, because on this terrible occasion, and even though she brought it on herself, you didn't come through for her when she was in a mess. She knows the facts, she accepts the responsibility, but there is still shock inside her that you didn't put your arms around her and make her mistake go away. And, I don't think you were watching her yesterday, when you told us about Ken's Bentley. I don't think she liked that."
"And me?"
"You can answer that best. I think you still love her, but I think with every day that passes, you get more used to the idea of a life without her. I think you can accommodate what she did, and live with it. You are capable of moving forward to a new life with her. I know you don't really think she would ever do it again, and I certainly think she's learned her lesson. But I think there's a little righteous voice inside of you shouting 'She must be punished. She must suffer for her sins. You can't trust a hussy like her.' But at what price, Tim? At the price of your own future happiness? I can't answer that one."
She put her coffee mug down on the table, "I must go; Charlie will be waiting for me. And I've said what I've got to say. Phone me if you want to reconvene with Beth, or talk to her direct, you don't need me there. I've done my bit, I got Beth to tell the truth. It's up to you and Beth, whatever you both decide, you don't need a middle aged estate agent fussing around you." And she got up, I kissed her on both cheeks and she was gone.
I didn't do anything about it, and I really didn't want to talk to Phil, for fear that somehow it would get back to Beth through Denny. And anyway, until I had sifted all my muddled thoughts into sensible questions, there was no problem to discuss. Time will resolve things.
Work was as busy as ever. ITP paid the other half of their instalment payment, and management thought the sun shone out of an orifice I'd never see. I was obviously doing well, Darren and Sheila were really beginning to hate my guts.
Davinia was really getting into her job and the life of the department. One afternoon I was in my office talking with Dave when she brought us some tea. Dave watched her leave the office and turned to me with the one word summation of his thoughts "Pity!". I knew how he felt. "Yes, it's a pity. But there you are, one where we both came along too late."
