I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement. I'd also like to add that we don't always see eye to eye, so I take full responsibility for all the content and any cock-ups in this story.
Hold on a minute. Nemesis - Dave? Now come on, play the bloody cards right! Nemesis - Victoria. Ah now, that sounds much better. Or maybe this one should be called "He who dares, Wins!" Okay, now read the bloody story.
I'd finally pulled up at my house at three o'clock on the Saturday morning. The traffic had been atrocious on my drive back from Aberdeen to London. It always is on Fridays and there had been a multi-vehicle pile up on the motorway that had delayed me for several hours. I figured Vicky (Victoria), my wife, would have been in bed hours ago, but I was surprised she hadn't left a light on for me.
Extracting my bags and briefcase from my car's boot I just about managed to carry them all at once, I waddled up to the front door. Letting myself in I immediately knew something was very wrong. The house was cold, obviously the heating was turned very low or off. This was unusual because Vicky is a cold old stick; she always has the heating on much too high for my liking.
Putting my bags down, I turned on some lights and was shocked to see that some of our furniture was missing. My mind in some confusion, I rapidly made my way upstairs to our bedroom where, in theory, Vicky should have been in bed asleep. The bed was empty, wardrobe doors and dresser drawers were open, and almost all of Vicki's clothes were gone.
I stood there in shock for a few moments. Just what the fuck was going on here? Thinking that a little shot of something would be a good idea I made my way back to our lounge. I grabbed a bottle of rum from the bar, then collapsed into my recliner to contemplate the position I found myself in. It was plainly apparent that my loving wife had left me. But why?
Vicky and I had been married for almost nineteen years. We had two wonderful eighteen year-old twin girls, who both were in their first year at Bristol University. Er, don't try and do the math bit - Vicky was five months gone when we got married. Look, I'll be honest when Vicky and I were married, I don't think we were head over heels in love with one another. We were just dating and having a good time, but you know how it is, we messed up, big time! Vicky fell pregnant with Susan and Sandra and I did the gentlemanly thing.
Shit, I couldn't do much else; my old man would have killed me if I hadn't. But love is a strange thing; I soon found I was completely smitten with Vicky and my girls. Almost my whole life revolved around them. Anything Vicky wanted I'd break my back to get her. I don't care what anyone says; I'm as devoted to her as any man can be to his wife. And since the girls had been away at Uni, we had been making up for the time we lost when they were children.
Everything wasn't completely roses though. Victoria was a strong willed woman and to be honest I did normally give in to her wishes, just to keep the piece. Generally I was happy with most things in my marriage. But now it looked like I'd been living a lie, or at least Vicky had.
It certainly looked like Vicky had left me. I just couldn't figure out why. She was always telling me how much she loved me. We had discussed the fact that neither of us really thought we would have gotten married to each other had she not become pregnant. But we had both agreed that it was probably the best thing that ever happened to us, and how deeply we had fallen in love with each other since we had married. It looked to me like someone had maybe had second thoughts.
Damn, my emotions took command; I suddenly got angry and jumped up to pace the room. Then I stormed out into the back garden to light up my pipe. Vicky doesn't like the smell of my pipe tobacco in the house so I always go outside to smoke. I was out there for ten minutes before I realised that Vicky wasn't there to complain and it looked like she wouldn't be in the future. Still for some reason I finished my pipe outside.
As I came back through the back door, I noticed the letter lying on the kitchen table. For a moment I stared at it. 'David' it said on the envelope; it was certainly from Vicky and when she wrote it she had been annoyed with me. The only time she ever calls me David is when she is upset with me.
I sat down at the table picked the envelope up and turned it over in my hands. I don't think I really wanted to open it; I knew I wasn't going to like whatever was written inside. Slowly I tore the envelop open, then unfolded the letter that was inside.
You lying, cheating, self-centred bastard, I am leaving you. I thought you loved me, but now I know different. You have been carrying on behind my back with that little tart and I can prove it. I'm going to a solicitor on Monday. I'm going to divorce you and take everything I can get.
I'll teach you to mess around on me. Didn't you at least think about the girls when you were swaning around with that little tart? She can't be much older than the twins?
I'm going to take you for everything I can, you bastard! So you had better look for somewhere else to live, as you won't be able to keep the house when I've finished with you and if I ever see that little slut; you can tell her I'll gouge her bloody eyes out.
"Interesting!" I said out loud to myself, "I wonder just whom this little slut is that Vicky thinks I'm laying? I think there's been a cock up in the intelligence section somewhere along the line."
Look, do I look like the kind of guy who cheats on his wife. That kind of guy would surely have walked away from Vicky when she got pregnant. I'm the kind of guy who appreciates what he has and definitely doesn't want to lose what he's got. Yeah, there have been times when I've been tempted. What guy hasn't? But I've always known which side of the toast has the butter on it and I've always been very careful about what I do. Still, it was apparent that Vicky was convinced I was playing around.
So what do I do? Well, there was only one thing to do really and that was, go to bed. Look, I'd been up since before six Friday morning and now it was four-thirty Saturday Morning. So to bed I went.
Yep, just a calmly as that. Look, I got where I am in business by not letting my emotions get the better of me. Once I knew what the problem was, I could relax a little knowing that I could quickly put Vicky's mind at rest. All I had to do was prove to her that she had got it all wrong and - bingo - crisis over.
But when I got into bed I found I couldn't sleep. Questions came into my head that I didn't expect. If Vicky thought I was cheating on her, why didn't she challenge me about it? Now that was a good point. Could it be because she had expected me to be cheating? But why would she do that? One thing I had learnt over the years was that people expect others to behave as they do. Now hang on a just minute, could Vicky think I was cheating on her because she had been playing around on me and then having got suspicious of me for some reason she had assumed I was cheating on her.
I was out of bed like a shot at that thought. This was serious stuff! Before I knew it I was tearing the bloody house apart looking for anything that would give any hint that Vicky had been unfaithful to me. I turned her sewing room upside down. There wasn't much point in searching her bedroom drawers - they were all empty.
Then I hit the computer. It took me hours to search that. I broke her passwords for her e-mails pretty quickly and then spent hours going through the Internet history files. A complete waste of bloody time, but necessary. I found absolutely nothing besides Vicky's hunt for a divorce lawyer; she had made that on the Thursday. But I could find no sign that she had actually contacted the solicitor she had apparently chosen.
I got a wicked idea; the only way to win a battle is to take the offensive. It was an off chance but I thought I'd give it a try anyway; at just after 9 Am, I e-mailed the people she had obviously chosen asking them to act on my behalf in a divorce case. There was a faint chance that Vicky hadn't actually spoken to them yet. I was lucky; within minutes of my e-mail going off, they replied asking me to come into the office ASAP, so that's what I did.
Just after 10 AM on the Saturday morning, I handed Maria Grant a cheque and she was from that moment on my solicitor. Vicky couldn't have realised that some solicitors work on Saturdays. After I told Maria what I had found at home and showed her the letter, she asked me whether I had ever cheated on my marriage. I told her that I loved my wife and done nothing since we had been married that I thought would put my marriage in jeopardy. Maria told me to sit tight; I should try to find out where Vicky had gone and have a talk to her. Maria thought it was probably just a misunderstanding and that everything could all be sorted out with a little communication between us.
I went back home and started the hunt for Vicky. I called her parents and brother but they both said they had not heard from her and she wasn't with them. Apparently she hadn't told them anything. The same went for her sister, but I had figured she lived much too far away for Vicky to have gone there anyway. Vicki's family, although she had apparently kept them in the dark about having left me, immediately took sides and clamed up on me once I told them why she had left.
.... There is more of this story ...