Back to Bristol Ch. 19

After Piers had said that I could expect problems from Peter Fucking Davies, I just excused myself from breakfast and went up to my suite and phoned Molly. Before she really had a chance to answer I said, "Hi. It's me. Have you heard anything from Peter?" She obviously was not expecting to hear my voice, "Chris! What time is it in Hawaii? No, I haven't heard anything from Peter. Why would I?" "Sorry. It's just gone seven in the morning here, and Piers has just told me that he spoke to Peter who apparently said that he doesn't expect to be divorced. I can only assume he has some legal trick up his sleeve. I can't think what else he could be planning." The was a long silence from the other end, then "I don't think there is anything that he could do. He's signed all the papers, the actual Court procedure is really just rubber stamping, and that's in under a week. I guess I should speak to my solicitor, just to be sure. But I can't do that until tomorrow, she'll have left the office by now." Now I was silent for a while, "Well, the only other thing I can think of is that he intends to ask you to a give him a reprieve." "To do that he'd have to come and see me, and he hasn't, thank goodness. The only contact that either Ralph or myself have had in the last few days is that Ralph had to have a face to face with Susan at the solicitors. But he didn't mention Peter at all. It was pretty rough going, I don't think she can understand what's happened to her, and she's fighting all the way to stop it happening, if that makes sense. But, I wouldn't have thought they talked about Peter." "I suppose the other explanation is that he's playing silly mind games. He would guess that saying something like that to Piers would get back to me." "That's not his style, but who knows? The quicker we get to next Wednesday and this is behind us the better." I paused for a second or two, there seemed nothing else to say about Peter Fucking Davies, so I asked, "Well, how are you?" and our conversation drifted into a general chatty update. After we'd said our goodbyes, and I'd put the phone down, I considered what I'd do. Molly's attitude and words had calmed any inner fears I had about her, and I felt confident about Peter again. I thought that maybe I should face him, give him a show of confidence, and that I wasn't going to buckle under his silly mind games. So I emailed Carole and asked her to arrange a planning meeting for the new Laboratories for the next Tuesday, the day before the divorce was in Court. And then I went down to rejoin the Conference. At the coffee break, Piers asked, "And how is Molly?" I smiled, "Very well. And she hasn't seen anything of Peter. So whatever he's playing at, he doesn't seem to have done anything yet. And by the way, I've got Carole arranging a meeting on the design of the new Laboratories for next Tuesday. I expect you'll get an email about it." I stopped stirring my coffee and looked straight into his eyes, "And Yes, you will be able to make it." He smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." "Wouldn't miss what?" Myra had just come up. "Perfect timing. Carole is arranging a meeting for the new Laboratories on Tuesday. I hope you can make it." I answered. Myra looked at me and then at Piers, and she understood the implication, "I'll be there. It sounds like fun." I phoned Molly again on Friday morning to check that Peter had caused no problem. But he hadn't, and Molly had spoken to her solicitor, who had then checked with Peter's solicitor, and there was nothing wrong with the divorce case, and it was going ahead without a hitch. So, Molly and myself decided that Peter was just having a little fun at our expense. On the Friday I was summoned to a meeting with The Old Man. I wasn't quite sure what he wanted to talk about, he seemed to be just encouraging me to talk, which probably had a purpose. So, I talked about restructuring the board of Franks. How I would be working on revitalising the production and client service side of the business, and that I wanted to bring Piers McBaine onto the board. He liked that bit, he'd met and been impressed by Piers, and just gave the idea his blessing. Otherwise, he just advised me to bring some new blood into the company at a senior level, even as a Number 2 to me. He did ask after Stephen Hobbs, who he had also met, but I gave Stephen the thumbs down as a candidate for the board. I said I wanted to leave him as head of the Exeter operation, where he was happy and good, he wasn't corporate material for higher office. When we got back to Heathrow, bleary eyed off the red-eye, there was Molly waiting to meet me. She was standing chatting to Jeanette who was waiting for Piers. I knew the Piers and Jeanette were off to see Fraser and their daughter-in-law, but I was surprised to see Molly. "Hi." I said as I hugged and kissed her, "This is a surprise." "I wanted to meet you. I missed you." She answered with another kiss. "Do we now have two cars here?" "No. I came up on the train to Reading, and took the link bus. So it's just one car." Once we'd collected my car from the long-stay car park, and that seemed to take half a lifetime, she said, "I haven't seen anything or heard anything from Peter." And I understood why she had come to meet me, the stress of what he might do was getting too much for her. So I told her that I'd arranged to face him in a meeting on Tuesday, to see if he was giving any clues as to what he planned. We continued to hear nothing from Peter up to four o'clock on Tuesday when we gathered in the large meeting room at Marston Abbey for the planning meeting. I was talking to Carole, who I'd taken along to keep minutes, when he came in talking to Sharon Booth. He paused for a second and our eyes met, but neither of us said anything, and we only broke the moment when Carole nudged my arm to ask about getting teas and coffees. The meeting itself went very well. Piers and his team had huge demands for the most luxurious laboratories in the world, but once I'd challenged that and guided the thinking to more realistic expectations, it was a very productive session. When it finished and was disbanding, with little groups talking amongst themselves, I noticed Peter had his eyes on me. "Mr Davies. Are you waiting for me?" "I think you can guess what about." "Molly. What about her?" "Is she well? I worry about her." And in fairness, he really did look concerned. "Well you needn't. And Yes, she's very well. She's had a holiday for a couple of weeks in Majorca and she came back very fit and tanned." He paused before he pressed on with what I suspect was a more important question to him, "You know what happens tomorrow. What are you going to do after that?" "I guess we'll go on seeing each other and talking. We're really good friends now. But, who knows what the future holds." "No." He answered thoughtfully, as if he really was considering my wise philosophical statement. And then, after a lengthy pause, he said "From tomorrow she'll have her freedom. It is the start of the rest of her life. And she deserves happiness and security." Was this code? Was this asking me, telling me, to marry her? Was he, in some way, handing her over to me? I looked straight into his eyes, "At last, something we can agree about. She needs to get the past into proportion, to move on to her own future and something better. And as you say, tomorrow is the start of that. Although I suppose it doesn't really start until the decree absolute." "Yes. As you say, those last few weeks will give her a chance to look both back and forwards, from a position of having her freedom." And like last time, when I thought he was going to face up to his new life, which had been a totally false impression, he held out his hand. And like last time, I shook it. After he'd left, I headed out, towards my car, when Piers called to me as I passed the open door to his office. I went in and stood in front of his desk, "I thought that went well, once I'd convinced you lot that we weren't designing the Ritz of research laboratories." "You can't blame us for trying. So, what did Peter want? I saw him hovering, waiting for you, I assume." I shrugged, "I'm not sure. Sometimes I think he speaks in codes. But he didn't say he had any legal jiggery pokery up his sleeve for tomorrow. But I guess we'll know that for sure by this time tomorrow. Is he taking the day off?" "Not as far as I know. And I should know. Is Molly going to the Court?" "No. She decided against it. As far as she's concerned it is just a necessary bureaucratic process." "Well, give her both mine and Jeanette's love." He smiled, and our eyes met for a moment. "Thanks, I will." And I went to find Carole waiting by my car. I don't think we were out of the drive of Marston Abbey before Carole said, "That was a short instalment." "Yes, it was, wasn't it." I answered, as neutrally as possible, but only because I was teasing her. After that we chatted about Peter Fucking Davies, and what his options were come the morrow. But, we couldn't think of any that were particular worrying or dramatic. Molly came over to my flat that night. She was uptight and nervous, but trying not to let it show. I don't know whether she was trying to protect me from how stressed she was as she came to this final point of losing Peter from her life, but I decided to face up to it. "Why don't you tell me about your happiest memory of your marriage? You said it wasn't so bad a relationship. If you start remembering the good bits it might help." She smiled weakly and shrugged, "I don't know what the best bit was, not with Peter. There were happy moments, but they were usually provided by Jamie or Ben. We had good holidays with them, but Peter wasn't important, he was just there, and I got on with him." She looked at me and smiled a bit more warmly, "But you're right, I should think of the good bits. I've got into the habit of just thinking it was a dreadful vale of regret, without you, without our family together. And I'm glad Peter seems to have taken it better now, once you told him a few facts of life. He hasn't made me hate him. Thank you." And she kissed me. It was about four o'clock on the Wednesday that Molly phoned me to tell me that she'd heard from her solicitor to say that the decree nisi and had granted, with no complications raised by Peter. We both breathed a sigh of relief, and I suggested that I take her out to dinner. When we met she looked slightly worried. "What's the matter?" I asked. She paused and looked at me, into my eyes, "I better tell you, although I don't know what it means. I got a text message Peter. That this was the worst day of his life, but he hoped we could both move forward now." I thought about that, "He's a master of the ambiguous comment, isn't he?" "I chose to take it that it was to move forward separately not together." And she smiled weakly. I smiled, "Let's give him the benefit of the doubt unless we're proved wrong." Afterwards we went out to a nice, but nothing special, restaurant. It was when we were seated at the table that she carefully took off her wedding ring. "I insisted on wearing your ring right up until after the Decree Absolute was granted, but I don't want to wear this anymore." And she dropped it into her little handbag. After dinner we went back to my place and made love, and it was different somehow, it was less intense but more enjoyable. But, at three o'clock the next day, Thursday, Molly phoned me and I answered it cheerfully, "This is becoming a habit. You phoning me at work." But she hardly uttered the first syllable for me to know that something was wrong, "I've just received a huge bunch of flowers from Peter, with a card saying I Love You." Now that worried me as much as it did her, but I thought it best to calm her fears, "It's probably nothing more than a romantic final gesture." "Then he'd say 'Thank you for some wonderful memories' or something. He wouldn't pledge love in the present tense." "Just a bad choice of words. Look, a bunch of flowers isn't going to hurt you. Put them in a vase, and ignore it. If he tries anything else, then let me know." And she did, before breakfast on Friday morning, "He's hand delivered a letter again. It was waiting on the doormat this morning." "What does it say?" "That now he has given me my freedom, I'm free to remember how good our marriage was, and to come back to him. That he wants to talk, and that we've only got until the Decree Absolute to save a wonderful marriage." She paused, probably waiting for my reaction, but then she added, "Oh, and he loves me, of course." I paused, thinking I'd like to suggest that she tells him to fuck off, but that would probably be a tad insensitive on my part, "How do you feel?" "Sad for him, I'd hoped that he had got his life together. Angry that he's trying this, after all these months. And a bit nonplussed. I don't want to hurt him more, but really I just want him to go away." I very nearly offered to phone him up myself and tell him to fuck off, but I didn't. This was a problem for Molly, not me. "Why not send him a short note to thank him for the flowers, and to say that there is no point in talking? If you write it some time today, you could put it through his door before he gets home from work tonight. He still lives in your old house?" "Yes. It's under offer, but not sold yet. Actually, that's not a bad idea. To reply to a letter with a letter. I'll think about that." "And remember, we're going to see that film tonight. Don't let him interfere with us." "No. I'll be at your place by the time you get in from work." She paused, and I was just about to say goodbye, when she added, "Oh, and by the way, I'll warn you now, Ben wants to go out on your bikes tomorrow." "Tell him that's OK by me. I rather like the exercise." There was a pause before Molly answered in a very gentle voice, "Chris, I'm sorry that Peter is somehow back. I do love you, and thank you for being patient about him." "Hey, if we have anything surely it's a friendship to sort out problems. And I love you." We left it there, and I finished my breakfast and went into work. I guess I looked troubled because Carole asked what was worrying me. "What, or who do you think? Peter seems to have got it into his head that by letting Molly win her decree nisi, somehow she will be free of being obliged to be married to him, but will realise what she is losing.. Or something like that. Anyway, so far it's flowers and love letters." "As I have been known to say before, shit happens." "It certainly does." I said and sipped my coffee. The film in the evening was very good, and it certainly took my mind off any personal problems. I did ask Molly whether she had written to Peter, and she told me that she'd bought a blank greetings card and written inside it, just as I suggested, to say thanks for the flowers but there was no point in meeting, the relationship was over. She added, when I asked, that she chose to use a greeting card as it seemed less personal than a handwritten note. After the film we went for pasta and a glass of wine, and then headed back to my place for the night. As I drove along I fished out my phone, just to turn it on as we'd turned them off for the film. "Good idea." Said Molly as she got out her own phone. "I've got a message. Oh, it's from Peter." For a couple of minutes she sat with the phone pressed to her ear, listening. Then she closed up the phone and put it away. I waited. "It sounds like he has had a drink or two, and he sounded close to tears. He's desperate to see me. He wants to talk." "Ignore it. It really is the best way to get the message across." I said. But as I glanced round, I could see that she really was unhappy. We made love that night, but I don't think she was really with me. She was just acquiescing to my needs. And on the Saturday morning she seemed nervous. Sometimes she was talking as if she was going to stay with me all day, at other times she was saying she must get back to Ralph's house. I guessed, she wanted to be with me, for the sake of support and security, but needed to get back to Jamie and Ben, and maybe to see if Peter had left any more messages. We were in the kitchen, just talking about the day ahead, with me saying that we'd do something as a family, and Ben would have to forego his cycling, when her phone started ringing from her handbag. She got it out, and looked at it, and her face went white. "Yes?" she answered nervously. After that I heard one half of an argument. I thought Molly was pretty adamant, I would have thought Peter would have got the message. But he didn't seem to. Eventually, it struck me that I shouldn't be listening to this, it was an argument between a man and wife; or assumed they were that until the divorce was finalised. So I left the room. Five minutes later Molly came to find me. I held her in my arms, she looked exhausted. "Why did you walk out?" "I felt I was eavesdropping on a private conversation." "You were, but I don't have secrets from you. Please, Chris, I know this hurts you, Peter interfering like this, but I don't want to hurt him anymore than I have to, I'm sorry." "I just want him out of our lives, out of your life, he doesn't belong in it." I sighed, and gave her a hug, "What did he say?" "That he was sorry that he phoned last night. Apparently he felt terribly lonely. I told him I was sorry about that, but there was nothing I could do. Then he said he wanted to meet me, to talk about what we had, there was a lot of tear jerking emotion. He was really trying to pull my heart strings." "Did he?" "A bit. There's a little boy in Peter, and now there's a hurt little boy. And I feel that it was me that hurt him." "But you're not going to see him, are you?" "That's what the argument was really about. I kept saying No, there was no point. And he kept throwing up every reason he could think of as to why we should. He's hurting, Chris. I know I should never have married him, but he tried to be a good husband for four years, and now he's hurt." That made me a little bit angry, "He's hurt because of the consequences of his own immoral action. If hadn't tried to chat up a married woman none of this would ever have happened. If you don't want to get burnt then don't play with fire. He played with fire, he played with his own emotions. He didn't know he was doing it at the time, but he was. And now he's burnt and it hurts." She looked at me for a long time before she said, "He came up with one aspect that I haven't thought about. According to him, he is wracked with guilt that he is partly responsible for Ralph divorcing Susan. That was the only possible reason to meet that I heard. He wants to see if there is a way he can put that right." "Do you believe him?" "I'm not sure, I don't think he was particularly fond of Susan, I think he just happily worked with her for a common purpose. When we were actually married he didn't show any great concern for either Susan or Ralph. But if I met him, I could find out a little more of what he did on Susan's instructions, or what she did on his. Maybe I could understand a little more of how they manipulated me." I thought about that. It struck me that there was a valid argument in there somewhere, "OK." I suggested, "Why not say to him that we can all meet, sometime after the divorce is complete? The extra time and finality of that would allow a proper discussion on what actually happened back then. And there would still be time to save Ralph and Susan's marriage, if that was appropriate. But that would call his bluff." She looked at me and smiled, "That is a good idea. I'll phone him back in a minute. I'll say that I'm not willing to do anything about our divorce, that must go through. But afterwards we could meet and talk about all that happened with proper retrospection. And if that shows that Ralph has a wrong understanding, then he and Susan would have reason to reconcile." She paused, before she added, "But I don't think it will make any difference. I think Ralph has other reasons. I'm coming to the conclusion that he's never been that happy, and this affair is only the final straw." I nodded, "I think that too. You know what Brenda and Derek said, that Susan never really loved him. I guess that's all caught up with him and her now. In some ways, and despite the strain of the divorce, he actually seems happier now than before. Anyway, why don't you give Peter a call, and tell him what's going to happen. Do it now, get it over with." And she did, holding my hand the whole time. He obviously didn't like it, and didn't take her up on the idea of meeting after the divorce was final. As far as he was concerned, everything was terribly urgent. But Molly held firm and even just spoke over him to close the call when he started just repeating himself. At the end, I congratulated her, "Well done." And gave her a kiss. We did spend all that Saturday together, and on the Sunday I went over to Ralph's house and we all went out to lunch. We used Ralph's car for the five of us, and when we got back to the house, Peter was sitting in his BMW parked on the other side of the road. As we pulled up, Peter got out of his car, but then as I got out of Ralph's, he got back into his. I told Ralph to take everyone in, and I started walking towards Peter. I heard him start the engine, but he also lowered his window, and turned and looked at me. As soon as I was close enough, he said "I came to talk to my wife. I see it's not the right time. But I will talk to her." Before I had a chance to answer he just slipped the car into gear and pulled away. Fuck! I turned back to the house, where I stayed until well after the boys had gone to bed, just in case Peter did come back, but he didn't. On Monday, Carole looked at me and just asked, "Shit is still continuing to happen?" "Yup. Phone calls on both Friday night and Saturday morning, plus he was sitting in his car outside the house yesterday, just waiting for his chance." I smiled, grimly. "That's almost stalking. Poor Molly. Doesn't he understand that it's over?" "It's a long way from stalking yet, but it has all the signs. Is there any chance I can get over to the Abbey today? I'd like to see Piers anyway, I want an off the record official chat." Carole smiled, "An interesting arrangement. Would you like me to come along and take minutes just so that I can shred them?" Now I laughed, "No. I want to suggest that he should join the Board. What do you think?" Carole nodded, "I think he's a natural. But it doesn't solve the problem of a younger, less masculine Board." "No, it doesn't. But that isn't a reason to hold a good man down. It just makes the problem slightly more urgent. At the moment, Annette Morgan is my only hope. Maybe I should try increasing Tim Johnson's role and see where he goes." About half an hour later Carole told me that I was having lunch with Piers at the George in Marston, it was up to me whether I actually went to the Abbey. I decided against going into the Abbey, at least until after I'd spoken to Piers. An unseemly confrontation between myself and Peter about personal matters in the middle of the office was not going to help. Piers was waiting for me in the bar when I arrived, but I immediately whisked him upstairs to the dining room. We kept our conversation to pleasantries until after we had ordered. "Can I guess that this is about Peter causing problems? He's been in a funny mood for the last few days, as if he's all keyed up for something." "Actually, you're wrong. Peter is causing problems, he's on ice that is getting thinner with every step he takes, but that isn't why I wanted to see you." I paused to look at him, straight into his eyes. "I wondered if you'd be willing to join the Board if I asked?" "As?" "Director of Research." I was expecting a happy smile and some enthusiasm. I got thoughtfulness. After a considerable pause, in which time our food was delivered, Piers looked at me, "OK. I think I've got to. Henri offered it to me a few years ago, I turned it down then. At that time I thought I was better off keeping out of the commercial side of the company, but having listened to the ITI plans for the health market, I reckon I should put a marker down for research and our true interest in the market, in medicine. So, thank you very much, Chris. I'd be delighted to accept......if it was offered" And, at last, he smiled. "I have to sort out Head Office procedures, but I know I can do that in the coming weeks. You made a very good impression in Hawaii." After that, we talked for the rest of the meal about company issues. And we were on to the coffee before Piers asked, "So what has Peter been doing to be skating on thin ice." I told him about everything since the decree nisi, and we talked about how Peter must have had this campaign to win Molly back planned out for weeks or months. "The only problem I've ever had with Peter work wise is that he doesn't know when to give up. It's the only thing where we have ever had real rows concerning his work. As researchers we get an idea that the answer is in there somewhere. We devise an experiment, we test our theories. If we're very lucky it works first time, otherwise we adjust things and try again, and again and again. But there comes a time when we have to give up..." He smiled "Normally because we run out of money." "But with Peter, he never wants to give up?" I asked. Piers half smiled and nodded, "Exactly. That's the time I have to give him a direct order, normally in writing." I leant back, "Ralph, that's Molly's dad, says he thinks Molly was Peter's first and only love. If you've got the level of commitment that you say he has, and you focus it on his only love, well I guess you end up obsessed." Piers looked at me and asked, "Do you want me to have a word?" "No. That would look like it's become official within the company. This is not company business. I guess if he really causes problems it could become that, if Molly has to take out an injunction against him, or if she reports him to the Police for stalking, if it gets that bad. Well, then I guess the company can take an official interest. We don't like our senior executives getting into those sort of problems." I sighed, "I guess I have to nip it in the bud, but God only knows how." "Rather you than me." Piers observed. "I guess there's no time like the present. Is he in today?" "No, he's at a seminar in London. He might be back late tomorrow afternoon, depending what time it breaks up." "I guess I should be grateful for that respite." I said rather grimly, but then I brightened up, "When all of this is over, you and Jeanette must have dinner with myself and Molly." Piers laughed, "Great minds... Myself and Jeanette were talking about that last night. We'd love to, but only when the time is right." I left it there, and went back to my office. It was the following day when I found Molly at my place when I got home. She was in the kitchen, and seemed to be halfway through her second glass of wine, going on how much was left in the bottle. And she was looking pale and angry. I gave her a hug and a kiss in greeting, but as I let my arms drop from around her, but she just sort of clung. "What's the matter? Don't tell me, Peter?" "You got it in one. He was waiting for me outside the school when I went to collect the boys this afternoon. I saw him as soon as I arrived, and I stayed in the car with the windows up, but he came over and started rapping on the window and shouting that he wanted to talk to me, that I was his wife, and I've got to talk to him. Everyone was staring, it was horrible." "So what did you do?" "I let the window down a little bit, and I told him that I wouldn't talk to him, that there was no point. That I'd made an offer to talk in a few weeks, but not before. But he kept going on and on. I felt trapped in the car. Then, by accident, I hit the horn button, right in the middle of one of his tirades about how I must listen to him, how I've got to remember all the good times and not throw them away like this. And the noise of the horn threw him, and made everyone stare even more, and he realised that and didn't like it. So, when he'd gone quiet, I told him that I wasn't going to talk, and then I pipped the horn every time he started. Thank Goodness, the boys came out and saw me and the car, and came and got in the back seats. Peter gave up then, and I drove away." "To be honest, that sounds quite funny. You hitting the horn every time he opened his mouth." Then I realised that now was not the time for humour, "We're going to have to think about getting an injunction to stop him. I can't think what else to do. I'll have a word with a lawyer first thing in the morning." Just then her phone started ringing. She got it out and looked at it, and then at me, "It's him." I took it from her hand, without asking, and hit the green button, "Peter, I guess you want to talk to Molly. Well,...." He rang off. I gulped down my wine. "This is harassment." I said. "Maybe I've just got to see him. Let him have his say, and then maybe it'll be over." She sounded hesitant and reluctant. "I don't want to bring lawyers in on it. He was my husband for four years, I've hurt him enough, I don't want to hurt him some more." She paused and topped up her wine, "I think that's why I'm scared to meet him; I think I'll have to say some horrible things just to convince him." "So say them. You say you don't love him, and the hurt is inevitable." I said firmly, but then I softened, "Look, let's do it on our terms, and on our territory. How about if I summons him to my office on Thursday evening say? I'll be there, but it has to be up to you. It would mean that you have to let him have his say, whatever that's going to be, and then you have to say whatever is necessary to make him believe that it is over. The alternative is it'll end up with lawyers or police, one way or the other." Now she really did look doubtful. "I don't know Chris. He's highly likely to either just walk out, or say some pretty horrible things to you. And you don't deserve that." "I don't deserve him making my girlfriend's life a misery either. Let me check the logistics of it all tomorrow morning, and you can decide then." There was a silence between us. It was obvious that Molly was not happy with my suggestion and for a moment I wondered if there was more between her and Peter than she'd ever told me. Suddenly I felt very insecure. But, there was nothing to do but to follow this through to the end. "Molly, what's the alternative? It can't go on like this. Since last Thursday he's approached you every day. I guess eventually he will give up, but will that be before he's wrecked your life and probably wrecked our relationship. That maybe is what he wants. Don't let him win, please." "I'm pretty sure that wrecking our relationship is what he wants. You have no idea of the passion with which he hates you. But I love you, I don't want you to get hurt." She paused, and then burst into tears, "Oh God! What a mess. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry......" her words got lost in sobs. I cuddled her until the tears subsided. Then I asked, "What are you really scared of? Is there some aspect of all of this that you haven't told me?" She looked at me, "You're right, I am scared. But I don't know what I'm scared of. Confrontation? Having to let hate rule the day? I don't want to have to hate him." I looked at her, gave her a peck of a kiss, "Let's eat. What were you planning? Or shall we go out?" "I was going to buy something, but I didn't." "I see. One chat to Peter and I'm forgotten." I said with over-emphasised dejection. My humour was greeted with a look of horror. It still wasn't the time for joking. I sighed, "Come on, let's go out." We walked to a nice Spanish restaurant just up the road in Clifton, holding hands but Molly was quiet to the point of being mute. And her silence was beginning to get to me. Just before we walked through the door of the restaurant, I remarked, "I'm beginning to believe that I wasn't joking, that I am forgotten. It's obvious that bastard Peter, is all you can think about. The guy ruined my life more than you'll ever know, and I'm meant to show kindness and tolerance now that he's having another go. You tell me that you love me; it's a pity you can't show it." She looked at me sharply, "I am showing it. I'm panicking at what Peter is wanting to do. I've been thinking about it, and I think I've pushed him into a corner. He loves me, he's obsessed. I used to believe that it was just that he loved me a lot, but I'm beginning to think obsession is a better word. And I've driven him into a corner, and he'll come out fighting. And I know that he has a vicious tongue on him when provoked." We stopped, and looked at each other, "I don't think either of us is really very hungry at the moment." She half smiled, "I know I'm not. But let's walk, I like the fresh air." So we strolled along, drifting back towards my flat, but then we walked on past my road, and walked out over the great suspension bridge. Half way across we stood and looked out, at the river Avon far below. The tide was out, and the river reduced to what looked like a muddy stream in the middle of its channel, although in reality it was still a great river. "Come on Molly, at least tell me what you're thinking." "I'm thinking that I can't see a way through this without more hurt and pain, and horrid things being said." She turned towards me, "I love you Chris. You've got to believe me. I'm sorry that it's turning out this way." She sighed, "Maybe he'll go away if we can hang on until the divorce is final." "If you accept that there has to be more hurt, then why not accept my suggestion of a face to face?" She hesitated, "Because I'm scared of what he might say. I'm sure that he will get really nasty with you, assuming he comes at all. He may just refuse to see me with you there. But I think what he will also do is throw up all my lies, all the times I let him believe that I loved him, that I was committed to him, that I'd put you in the past." "Well I assumed that you told him you loved him. I can't imagine you married him without saying that." I paused, and asked the question that I dreaded the answer to, "Did you love him?" "No. Loving you has meant that I know what love is. I liked him, I respected him, I thought he was handsome and sexy and charming and kind and thoughtful and intelligent and all sorts of good thinks. But I never loved him. It's like I told you, for a long time I had two thoughts, that I should love him, that he must be something special to me for me to do what I did. And that I really did want to love him, I tried so hard to love him. There were moments when I felt affection for him, even deep affection. But No, I never loved him." By unspoken consent, we kissed, and then we started strolling back towards my flat, my arm around her, and her head pressing against my shoulder. As we walked along, she started again, "I remember the time when I knew that I didn't and would never love him, that I just didn't have it in me. It was a company do at the Abbey; Piers and Jeanette were there, I can't remember the reason. But, I was standing talking in a group of people and Peter came into the room, and he started talking to another group. I consciously thought: there's my husband, I must go over to him. And then it struck me that I never thought like that about you. In the same circumstances, as soon as you came into the room, I would have known you were there. And within five minutes, and without conscious thought, I would have found myself standing next to you. It was something deep within me. With Peter there was nothing deep within me. I thought about that all that night, lying in bed alongside him, and I allowed myself to cry about it the next day." I gave her a gentle hug in acknowledgement, and said, "You do know that I love you. I always have." "Are we going to make it?" She hesitantly asked. "I don't know. There is so much hurt still around. I thought we were leaving it behind, but this thing with Peter has just brought it all back. There are so many regrets, so much hurt and anger, and it won't go away." "That's what really scares me about facing up to him. If we do, then we risk everything for ourselves." "But what's the alternative?" I asked. "I don't know." She answered. --- As Carole brought me my first coffee of the morning, I asked her to ask Neil to come and see me and then told her that I wanted her to minute the meeting. She looked at me very questioningly, but did as I asked. Two minutes later, I had Neil and Carole both sitting on my sofas, and I joined them from my desk. "Neil, I want a minuted meeting, I hope you don't mind." Neil looked very worried, "Sorry, I only want your advice, but I'd like it on record, just in case." I told them how Peter had been causing problems since the decree nisi. "It's only a few days. If you want to do anything official I would think it's got to go on for a week or two at the least." Neil observed. I nodded, "I think you're right if we wanted to go to the Police for stalking, or maybe even if we just wanted an injunction against him. But I'm inclined to try stopping it before it gets that bad. For his sake as well as ours." "How?" "I want to summons him to this office and have a face to face between him and Molly and myself. Let him say whatever he wants to say. I'll make it clear that we are meeting on non-company business, but I don't want him to have any comebacks that he's been unfairly treated by his Managing Director. What do you think?" Neil thought about it for a moment, and then asked, "You want to use this office for that meeting?" "Yes." "Will he be ordered to be there, by you as his MD?" "I don't know. I'm tempted, but I see your point. How about if Molly invites him by email, say? And she makes it clear that I will be there, and that this office is just a convenient venue. And he is invited, not ordered?" "As long as you make it very clear that this is not company business, I can't see that there is a problem. The company doesn't say that staff can't ever meet third party people on the premises, or that two employees can't talk about non-company issues." I smiled, "Good. By the way, what would happen if we left it, and Molly did end up reporting him to the Police for stalking, or got an injunction? What would our policy be against a company employee who ends up in that sort of position?" Neil smiled, "I'd have to phone Head Office. But I can't imagine we'd be particularly pleased." "OK." I said. Then I turned to Carole, "Where am I tomorrow afternoon? Is there any chance that we can do it here tomorrow evening, six o'clock say?" Carole answered without having to consult the diary, "You're out in the morning and out to lunch, but you're back here for the afternoon. And your evening is clear." "Great. Now all I need is for Molly to agree." After Neil had left, wishing me Good Luck as he went, Carole looked at me, "You haven't got Molly to agree?" "She's scared. But I can't see any other way. Except conceding to him what he wants, and that is to talk to Molly alone. And I think she is even more scared of that." Carole looked at me, and in unison we said, "Shit happens." I phoned Molly, but she was at work and with a patient. We could only agree when she would phone me back, which she did. She took a lot of convincing, and it was only that she had no answer to my perennial question of 'What is the alternative?' that convinced her. I left her with clear instructions on exactly what she must say in the email, and told her to copy me in. The email hit my machine within ten minutes and I thought: Now we wait for his reply. Just before lunch, Carole came into my office, "Molly's been on the phone. You were busy in a meeting, but she left you a message. Apparently, Peter Davis has emailed his reply. He refuses to come here tomorrow evening, he insists that he must meet with her alone. He even suggested that he takes her out to dinner." She looked at me, and then added, "Sorry." "Fuck, sorry. Do you know if he's at the Abbey?" "Yes, all day. I've checked." "And what can I cancel to go over there?" She thought for a moment, "Immediately after lunch. It was a meeting with marketing, to convince you that you should put your name to a series of articles for trade magazines. They can take that up with you at another time." "OK. As soon as I'm free of my guests, I'm heading for the Abbey. But let it be a surprise." Carole smiled, "Can I come to take minutes? Or hold your jacket?" I laughed. Well done Carole for taking the heat out of it. But, I found the heat remained pretty warm by the time I got to the Abbey, I just hoped I had been OK with my lunch guests. I arrived and just headed for Peter Fucking Davies's office. I didn't knock, I just opened the door and stepped in. Peter was sitting at his desk talking to two people. I recognised one as Sharon Booth, the other one, a fairly young guy, I recognised as a member of Peter's team, but I'd forgotten his name. Everyone recognised me. I looked straight at Sharon and the young man, "Excuse me, guys. Perhaps you could give me a minute or two, but I want a private word with Mr Davies." They scooped up their papers and left, in a hurry and without a word. Peter Fucking Davies was still sitting at his desk, looking a bit scared. Good. I leant on my hands standing at his desk, leaning towards him, "Let me be clear. If you want a chance to talk to Molly then I suggest you take up her offer of being in my office tomorrow evening at six o'clock." He stood up, to meet me at eye level, "Fuck you! I'll talk to my wife, and she is still my wife, when and where I please. It's got nothing to do with you when I choose to talk to her." "It has everything to do with me when you harass her in the street, outside a school when she is collecting my sons. You do not make a public spectacle of yourself and embarrass her when my boys are there." For a moment he looked guilty, "Sorry. I didn't think. But I want to talk to my wife. And, I suspect under your influence, she is refusing to do so. I had to see her." "Well, you have a chance tomorrow evening. Take it. It's your only chance. And I warn you, if you go on harassing her as you have been, I'll very strongly suggest to her that she either reports you to the Police for stalking, or get her to have her solicitor get an injunction against you. Do you really want that?" I think that shocked him, "I want to talk to my wife." There was a slight petulance in his voice. He paused and just stared at me, "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You don't want her. You haven't taken her back. I don't blame you for that, not after the great marriage I gave her. But you just want revenge. It doesn't matter who gets hurt, as long as you get your revenge." He paused, but before I reacted, he continued, "You told me that I'd been selfish when I met her. Well, maybe I was. But it was because there were forces of true love at work that I didn't understand. But you are now being truly selfish. You just want to get back at me, and to Hell with how hurt Molly gets in the process." Now I did react, "You've got to be fucking joking. Of course I hated your guts for what you did to my marriage, to my boys' family. That was cruel, immoral and I hope you burn in Hell for it. But what this is about is allowing Molly to move forward with her life, now that she knows what a calculating little shit she was married to." He stood back, "And you enjoy that, don't you? Making sure she knows about the mistakes, the misjudgements I made then. But I don't regret any of them. It was the start of a magical marriage, and I'm going to fight for it." "Well then, let's get the fight over and done with - tomorrow night." I quickly answered. Now he looked slightly hurt, "Tomorrow night suits me. Your presence doesn't." "Well, it's your only option. Be there." And I walked out. Sharon Booth and her colleague were leaning against the wall a little down the corridor, I tried to smile at them, "Give him five minutes to recover." When I got back to my office, Carole just looked at me, "Well?" I shrugged my shoulders, "Who knows?" "Did you see Dr McBaine while you were there?" "No. I had other things on my mind." "Well you should have. It wouldn't have done any harm to update him, just in case Peter turns to him for advice." "I don't think they're that close these days. But, as you say, it wouldn't have done any harm. Bugger!" Carole smiled, "Shall I get him on the phone?" "Yes. And tell him that I've been a fucking bastard. He'll understand, and he'll call in here on his way home." Carole smiled, "Excuse me Dr McBaine, but I'd like to tell you that Chris Bennett is a fucking bastard." "Exactly." I said and went into my office. And sure enough, at about half past six, Piers knocked and entered my office. "I hear you're a fucking bastard." I smiled and got up and went over and poured two small whiskies, whilst Piers sat down on one of my sofas. Piers took his whisky and looked at the meagre measure, "You've been only a bit of a nuisance, I see." I sat down opposite Piers, "Slightly impolite. I visited the Abbey this afternoon, without the courtesy of telling you." "I heard. Peter had the honour of a visit." "Has he spoken to you about it?" I asked. "Only briefly. He came to see me to complain that you visited him without warning. But I pointed out that you were Managing Director, and that sort of privilege went with the job. I think he wanted to talk, but knowing I was coming here, I told him that I didn't have time, but he was welcome to see me tomorrow, or even phone me at home later tonight. So?" So, I told him what has been going on, and that Carole thought he might be consulted. "Well, if I am consulted then it will be the first time since we had our bust up. But maybe, who knows?" "Well, I don't want you to say anything that you aren't happy with, but I would be grateful if you could emphasise that I do not want this to in anyway affect his position here, it is a private matter. I'm not the MD, I'm just the other man in this eternal triangle." Piers sipped his whisky thoughtfully, "I'm OK with that. But is he coming to talk to Molly, which I suspect is what he wants to do, or is he coming to talk to you and Molly, which I suspect he doesn't want to do?" Now I was thoughtful, but eventually answered, "I promise he can talk to Molly directly. I will stay out of it, he can say whatever he wants. But I will be in the room, and I will hear every word.. And, of course, if anything is directed at me, then I will respond." Again Piers was thoughtful, but then said, "OK. That's fair. Mind you, I'm not sure I would like someone else to be sitting there when I'm having an emotional scene with Jeanette. But I understand. You should understand how hard this is for Peter." "He brought it on himself." I said with a mixture of resignation and bitterness. "Yes he did. But he is where he is now. He's hurt and desperate. The woman he loves and thought loved him, is divorcing him because of a man who divorced her years ago." I was slightly indignant at that, "Why are you taking his side all of a sudden?" "I'm not. But I am reminding you that there is another side. If you wanted revenge, you've achieved it better than you could have ever dreamed." "Then why doesn't it feel better?" I studied my empty whisky glass. "You know, you were right, these were short measures." "No, they were just the right size." Piers said, as he put his empty glass down and stood up to leave. I watched him go out of the door, and wondered what he was thinking. I was still sitting there, deep in thought, when I heard a tap at my door, I looked round, it was Bill Ellswood. "Bill, come in." He stepped in and sat down where Piers had just been sitting, "Chris, I hoped you'd still be here. I wanted a private word." "About?" I asked. "I'm going to resign. I'm going to do it in writing tomorrow, but I wanted to come and see you, to tell you that this has nothing to do with you or with the ITI takeover." Now that did take me by surprise, "Where are you off to?" "A small company up in Yorkshire. We're empty nesters, and Niki my wife comes from that way. We always said that we'd go back there when I retire. Well, an old friend has offered me this job, it pays a lot less, but it will be a lot less stress, so it's a sort of semi-early-retirement. And Niki really wants me to take it." "It sounds like you've thought about it. I assume there is no point in my trying to talk you out of it?" He smiled, "No. Family comes first, and this is for family reasons. But I really want you to know that the last few months under your management have probably been the most enjoyable and productive since I joined the Board." "That's very kind, Bill. I'm grateful...." I stood up, and headed towards my decanter, "...because I can be a fucking bastard at times." 2344 1.47/512345