I thank LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement
My editors, who hail from across the pond kindly pointed out a couple of words that could well confuse some readers: Rogering = Shagging = Copulating : Bristols = Rack = Front suspension = Breasts or tits, if you like.
Don't they all say 'Hindsight is a wonderful thing'? When you look back you can see everything so clearly. Impossible coincidences that were really carefully laid plans. Little inconsistencies that you never noticed. Sometimes just the odd slip of the tongue.
With hindsight I can see that the trouble in my life started when I was eighteen. An ex-girlfriend, Sarah, called me up one day and invited me to a party. Did I smell a rat? Of course I didn't. We had parted as friends so why should I suspect anything untoward?
The party was fun with a lot of our mutual friends there and a girl, whom I'd met a couple of times before, appeared to take a fancy to me. Georgina was quite a looker; maybe a little out of my class really. I've no illusions; I'm not that good looking. But Georgie, as she liked to be called, definitely tipped her hat in my direction.
She stood about five-four and was very slim with a pair of Bristols that appeared to be just the right size for her height and weight. She didn't look top heavy and her butt, that she could only have poured into those jeans was something the die for.
And poured into them she was. The trouble she had getting out of them in my car later in the evening was unbelievable. But she did and I had the best sex I had ever had in my life that night. Okay, it was in the back of my car and there wasn't that much room to manoeuvre. We just kind of went on an on.
Honestly I thought all my Christmases had come at once. Georgie was insatiable and over the next six months convinced me that I was the greatest lover in the world and the only man she would ever love. I, of course, was totally besotted with her. So on our six months' anniversary we had a party of our own where we announced we were engaged and I presented her with a £1500 engagement ring.
A year later we were married, ten months later child number one, my son Markus, came into the world followed almost exactly one year later by child number two, Ellie. Then Symone took just a little longer. But after we had Symone we decided the family was big enough. And Georgie went on the pill.
At this time I was working for my father's transport business. But dad was getting on a bit and he was talking about retirement. My brother Bob and I had some hard decisions to make. Bob was more into taking the business into one of the big removal franchises, whereas I preferred the idea of staying independent.
I'd introduced self-loading flat trucks, fitted with Hiab cranes when they had first became popular and I saw the company going that way. In the end Bob and I split the company. He had most of the yard, warehouse and storage units. But I had part of the yard to park my trucks and a workshop to look after them in, although I upgraded my three trucks for new Scania's so a lot of the servicing was done by them.
Life was good for a while. Georgie and I had a nice new detached house in a new-ish development, the garden wasn't all that large but they aren't on modern houses. We did manage to squeeze a little pool in there though. I drove my Range Rover and Georgie drove her BMW.
Georgie's one failing was money. Christ, the girl could spend it like it was water. Money was the only thing we ever argued about. But we argued about it often. Georgie could not get her head around our worth on paper and how much we had available to spend. She saw the kind of money the trucks were pulling in, but could not understand that fuel and wages had to be paid out of it, not to mention taxes, insurance and maintenance of the vehicles.
On the whole, I thought everything in the garden was coming up roses and I was planning on enlarging the fleet. I got a name for delivering machinery as my trucks could often unload and site stuff without the need for a separate crane to be hired. I stayed clear of Artic's (semi-trailers) as the smaller trucks could often drive right inside the factories that we were delivering to.
The down side to running a small transport company was that I was on the road a lot of the time myself either driving or drumming up work. The first clue I got that something was up was when my oldest was eight. I came home to find three children's life jackets hanging in my garage.
Of course I was curious since I didn't have a boat. But it turned out that good old Roger who lived over the road had a boat. And apparently Roger and his wife had taken Georgie and the kids out for a ride on the river. To be on the safe side Georgie had lashed out on life jackets for the children. I thought it extravagant for a onetime thing. But I was soon to find out it wasn't a onetime thing. It became a regular thing all during that summer.
Roger and Betty had moved into the estate shortly after we had. Roger was a couple of inches taller than my five-seven but I thought he had a gaunt look about him. Betty was the same height as Georgie but she had a completely different build. Buxom some might call it but I always thought she was overweight. She filled a swimsuit to overly full, if you get my drift.
Oh, the swimsuit? Well, they would come over and use our pool with us quite a lot in the summer months. Some of the other neighbours did so as well though. Hey, a couple of the other wives had figures that made it a good idea to have an open pool policy. I thought that Georgie put them all to shame though and from the looks on some of the husband's faces I wasn't alone in thinking that.
I'm not sure when it was that I first heard my daughter refer to Roger as Uncle Roger. Hindsight tells me it should have set off alarm bells. But it was a few weeks later that I came home early one day to find Georgie and the children were not home. Betty was out working in her front garden so I went over and asked her if she knew where my wife and children had gone. Betty always knew everything.
"They're on the boat with Roger. They love it on the boat and Roger loves children. You know we can't have any of our own. And besides its company for him. To be honest I can't abide the thing. I only go with him when no one else does."
Ding a-ling a-ling, the old alarm bells really started going off big time now. You see, for one thing the kids should have been in school. And secondly, over the last half year my sex life had taken a turn for the worse. For some reason, Georgie had turned from a sex bomb in bed to, well, a once-a-week-if-I-was-lucky type wife. This had happened a couple of times before during our marriage. In the past it had only lasted a couple of months at a time; but this time it was a lot longer. Actually since just before Georgie had started going out on Roger's boat with the kids.
"How often does Roger go out on the boat then, Betty?"
"Oh, two or three times a week. I'm glad Georgie likes the boat though. One day a week is enough for me. They just go down and tinker about with it. Georgie's a dab hand with the boat now."
"I bloody bet she is!" I thought, "it's one thing for your wife and children to go out on a boat with a neighbour and his wife. But it's whole different ball game if the two are out together and she has never mentioned the fact to her husband."
I think I was in a daze as I walked back to my house. You know what was going through my head, could she, would she? I had the nasty feeling it was she could and she would!
Complete trust to complete doubt, in one conversation with a neighbour. I wonder how many times that's happened to people in the past. Surely Betty was suspicious, what with her husband going off with a woman as beautiful as Georgie? But she appeared to have complete confidence in Roger.
Later I watched as Roger and Georgie returned. Roger pulled into his drive and they got out of the car to be greeted by Betty. As they chatted, I saw Georgie suddenly turn and look at our house. I'd put my Rangey in the garage so she wouldn't notice I was home.
The conversation went on for a couple of minutes with Georgie looking at the house then turning back to Betty and talking again. Then Georgie walked over to the house. I was sitting in the lounge when she came in pretending I hadn't seen her arrive.
"Hi, baby," she smiled at me as she came in the door, "You're early. Would you mind collecting the children from school for me while I fix dinner? Perhaps as you're home we can go out later."
I didn't reply to her. I just got up and went out into the garage for my car. Having got there I decided to use hers. I was at the school early as it was apparent Georgie had left herself time to get showered and changed before she went to collect them. Sending me out of the house gave her time to clean up.
"Is something wrong?" she asked me as we ate dinner that night.
"I don't think so. Why should there be?"
"Oh, I thought you were giving me the old cold shoulder treatment."
The crafty cow had tackled me whilst the children were present. I had intended to leave things until after they were in bed.
"Why, have you done something I should be angry about?"
"What are you implying?"
"Just hold on, Georgie, you started this conversation."
"Well, you're being moody."
"Maybe I'm tired. I've had a heavy week."
"Well, don't go all moody on me and the kids just because things aren't going well at work."
We ate the rest of the meal in silence. Well, between Georgie and I it was. The kids were full of things to talk about.
Later that night after the children were asleep, I tackled Georgie.
"Okay, Georgie, what's the big idea?"
"What are you on about now?"
"You and Roger, alone on that bloody boat, that's what I'm on about. You're my wife you shouldn't be going out on bloody boats with another man."
"You've never said anything about it before. Why are you so upset now?"
"Because you always lead me to believe that Betty went along with you. I never realised that it was just you and Roger."
"He's teaching me how to drive it and look after it. What's so wrong with that?
"Jesus Christ, woman, you're my wife."
"And what 's that got to do with it?"
"Look, you're my wife and Betty is his. You and I do things together and he should do things with Betty. That is how it should be and that's the end of it. You will not go on that boat alone with Roger again. Do you understand?"
"I do but you're are being silly about this. Roger is just a friend."
"I'll bet," I thought to myself.
That night Georgie tried to kill me with sex. Great, yes, almost as good as our first night in my car all those years ago. But was she feeling guilty? That was what I was asking myself.
I determined to find out. The following morning I hired in a temp driver for my truck. He was a good bloke and I had used him quite a few times in the past. He lent me his car and I positioned myself where I could watch the entrance to our estate. Georgie went out and took the children to school, she went shopping and then home again where she stayed until it was time to collect the children.
The next day was the same. But on the third day as she drove out of the estate Roger's car pulled out behind her. I followed the pair of them to the school. And then into a super market where Georgie joined Roger in his car and they drove to the boat. I watched from the road as they walked up to the boat arm in arm and climbed aboard. A few minutes were spent fiddling about. Roger refilled the water tank whilst Georgie made a drink, coffee I think. After drinking it in the sun, they both disappeared below.