Chapter 2

I don't want to do this, I never do. I must have given two dozen or more presentations and lectures in the last year, but I'm still not used to it. The butterflies are fluttering in my stomach as I walk through Embankment Gardens towards Savoy Place.

"Good morning Michael," I say as I reach my destination. Michael Faraday says nothing; statues are like that. He just stands looking out across the gardens and the river.

'You haven't seen a nice young lady have you? About five eight, long dark hair usually in a pony tail, high cheek bones, figure to die for, but hidden under trousers and loose sweater?'

'No, I didn't think so. She'll be late, they always are aren't they.'

We've struck up a bit of a relationship, Michael and I. He's the quiet one always gives me a chance to speak and yes, he's a hero of mine. No visit to London is complete without a quick word with Michael. Today I'm visiting his home, The Institute of Engineering Technology, as an invited speaker. I just wish Lauren would get here. She knows exactly when to start the video and change the slides without me having to tell her. I don't want to brief anyone else.

'I hope she hasn't missed her train, ' I say. The statue remains silent.

My thoughts are disturbed by the click clack of heeled shoes behind me. I turn, and there she is, wearing a blue skirt suit and high heels.

'You've got legs!'

'Oh you've noticed. I only bring them out on special occasions, and you did say I had to smarten up a bit.' She spun around for me. 'Well how do I look?'

I looked up at the statue.

'Well Michael, what do you think?'

I paused before turning back to her.

'Michael thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.'

'And what about you?'

'You'll do. Come on we need to make sure everything is set up right and I'll introduce you to a few people.'

She loops her arm through mine and we turn towards the main entrance. I reach up to rub the statue's foot.

'Wish me luck, ' I say to Michael as we head towards the steps.

'Good luck!'

I stop and turn around. There is no one behind me; everyone is going about their business.

'Now what?' asks Lauren?

'Did you hear that? Someone said good luck.'

'Now I am getting worried. Talking to statues is one thing, but when they answer back that's something else. All I heard was the traffic. I'd better not tell them that one back at the lab. They'll think you've really lost it'

We walk up the steps and I hold the door for her as she slips her arm through mine I am conscious of the admiring glances. I know what they're thinking when they look at me. 'Dirty lucky bastard, how did he manage to pull her? He's either filthy rich, or he's got an enormous tool.'

Back in the day I would've had similar thoughts. They're wrong of course, we work together, we're friends, but we don't sleep together. At 32 she's a little over half my age. She's a great girl, one day she'll make someone very happy, but not me. She'll want kids, but I've been there, done that. Maybe it's selfish, but at 50 years of age I have no wish to do it again. Oh Yes I've got children, Two boys, Ross and Jamie. Don't blame me, my wife chose the names. I've got one of those as well, a wife that is, though none of us see much of each other now. It's been five years since we split; now the boys share their visiting time between us. Ross got married two years ago, that was the last time I saw her. We didn't get chance to talk.

What's this, a reception committee? There are three of them standing between us and the lecture theatre. I recognise the one in the middle, it's Thomas Horne, president of the institute. As he offers me his hand I am aware of the cameras flashing. That's something else I've had to get used to over the last year. They're not paparazzi: these blokes normally come from in house magazines. They're not intrusive but sometimes you just wish they weren't there.

'Mr Fletcher welcome to the institute.'

I don't like to disillusion him but I've been a member for twenty five years and I've been here several times before. No reception committee in those days. It's wonderful how much difference an appearance on TV makes. He introduces his two sidekicks, then tells them about me.

'Mr Fletcher is the man who made the bionic arm shown on Technospot last week'

'No Mr Horne, Mumford Labs made the arm. I can assure you it was a team effort.'

'Yes, of course, but you are the leader of that team.'

'Yes I am, but each of us plays our own part. Dr Stockbridge here is our mechanical wizard. She is equally deserving of any credit.'

Their faces take on a shocked expression as Lauren offers her hand, then after more handshaking and exchanging of pleasantries we pass into the lecture theatre.

'You did that on purpose; you love to embarrass the old guard don't you.'

'They deserved it. They should know better, attitudes like theirs stop girls coming in to engineering.'

'Well since we are such a good team, perhaps you can get us both a cup of coffee while I check out the facilities.'

I've got to admit working with Lauren has its advantages. Watching her climb up onto the stage revealed one of them. Her skirt hitched up revealing more leg and as she bent forward it pulled tight across her bum. I sigh; some lucky chap will get his hands on that gorgeous bum.

I go off in search of coffee. A look back at Lauren reminds me of what's missing in my life. I miss the company at home; if Lauren thinks talking to statues is bad what would she make of talking to toasters and kettles.

I miss the feel of a woman in my bed at night, reaching out in the morning to touch soft silky skin, and I miss the good morning kisses. Oh yes the sex is nice, but I can get that. My God the last time I was in Boston, Siobhan nearly killed me. What that girl didn't know about sex wasn't worth knowing. People told me Americans were wild about English accents, but that girl even wanted me to talk while I was eating her. The problem was that we couldn't be together without wild animal passion and that's not what I miss ... I return to the lecture theatre with two coffees.

Delegates are arriving as I make my way back, then I'm sitting in the front row watching Lauren getting everything ready.

What it must be like to wake up next to her in the morning? I imagine she would be softer, more tender than Siobhan.

Doubtless some lucky sod will find out soon enough. Of course it's my own fault I feel like this. I have a wife. She sends me birthday cards every year invites me to spend Christmas with her and the family; for some strange reason she even marks our wedding anniversary. She'd take me back anytime I wanted, the boys have said as much, but I can't make myself put it to the test.

She had an affair you see, with the man who controlled a lot of her funding. While I'd been busting a gut ensuring she had the support she needed to fulfil her potential she was giving what free time she had to another man. I never really gave her chance to explain. What explanation could there be? I didn't tell her that finding out contributed to my accident. I didn't even tell her I was paralysed from the waist down; she had to find that out from my boss. I didn't want her pity; didn't want her coming to me to ease her guilt.

I went off to University, in my wheel chair, and started a PhD. When Mumford came along, I put the PhD on the back burner. The doctors and consultants all told me that the use of my legs should come back. However, I'm an engineer, and we work with worst case scenarios. It came as a big surprise when the feeling started to return and the muscles started to do things without being told. Fifteen months after the accident I was starting to walk again. A year of physiotherapy later and no one would believe I had a problem.

'Where's my Skinny Latte?' she asks as she plonks herself down in the seat next to mine. I reach over to the seat on the other side and pick up her cup and passed it to her.

'Just white coffee, I'm afraid'.

She turns her nose up at it.

'Think yourself lucky to have filter coffee when I started coming here the only coffee was instant.'

She takes her coffee and sips at it. The second sip tells me it's acceptable.

'When are we on, boss?'

'Last spot before lunch. Prime position.'

'So we've got a bit of a wait then.'

'About an hour and a half. We have some interesting papers being presented first, just sit back and enjoy them.'

It's our turn now. Lauren and I take the stage. My paper is devoted to the control system we developed. However, I know from experience, we will get questions on every aspect of our limb development. I introduce the paper and Lauren runs the video. Some people in the audience understand how difficult these things are. When we show our subject holding a wine glass in his bionic hand and tipping it up to sip, I hear a few audible gasps. I describe the multi layered system of control and take them through the way different problems are handled and then it's over and we are fielding questions. I can see Lauren is really getting into it as she fields questions on weight distribution and power transmission. Then comes question that surprised me.

'Why did you give up teaching?'

For a moment I'm stunned but then I come back.

'Because I was a terrible teacher. It takes a particular person to be good at teaching, I'm not that person.'

The first bit causes a titter from the audience but they soon calm down.

'You weren't that bad, you got me into university and now here.'

'I'm sorry, it's a bit dark in here sir. What's your name?'

'Daniel Reynolds'

'Ah, yes I remember you Daniel; perhaps we could have a chat at lunch time?'

The MC tells them this is the last question and her voice rings out over the PA system.

'Dr Fletcher. It is Dr Fletcher isn't it?'

Where did she get that from? I hadn't attended the ceremony and told hardly anyone.

'Yes, as a matter of fact, but it's of no consequence.'

Lauren's face took on a surprised expression.

Even through the theatre PA system I could recognise her voice.

'What makes you give up on a project?'

I know the significance of the question, even if the audience doesn't. For the first time I was struggling for an answer. Lauren came to my aid and snatched up the microphone.

'He never gives up. Just files them away and waits for the situation to change.'

The questioner comes back for one last try.

'So what needs to happen for you to go back to a project you' previously abandoned?'

'As Dr Stockbridge said, we wait for something to change. We review projects both active and dormant at regular intervals. If something has changed that makes the project viable we reopen it. Sometimes a member of the team might show us we were wrong to shelve it in the first place, '

The MC announces that lunch is served, and the audience leaves. I turn to see Lauren giving me a curious look.

'Dr Fletcher? When were you going to tell me, I mean us?'

'I didn't want to make a fuss. People might think I was trying to compete.'

'Don't be daft; nobody at Mumford cares about things like that. I'm glad you finished it but I'm curious as to why.'

'I hate loose ends, and the people in America thought it would give the lectures a higher status. It really is no big deal.'

'It seemed to be important to someone. Who is that woman?'

She's my wife. For some reason she wants me to know that she's been keeping tabs on me.

'Your wife; and you didn't know she was going to be here?'

'We're estranged; I think that's the word. What I don't understand is how she got in here. This event is supposed to be closed to members and their guests.'

'She's ambushed you hasn't she.'

I nod and feel her arm around my waist.

'We could turn the tables on her by going out to lunch.'

'No the brief is that we spend lunch time networking.'

Lauren finishes collecting up her stuff, then takes my arm.

'Come on Dr Fletcher, let's get some lunch.'

'We step out into the main hall and then into the Dining room where we find a sumptuous buffet laid out. Lauren goes ahead of me adding things to her plate. I'm conscious of someone close behind me, so I'm not surprised when I hear the voice.

'You're wrong. You were a great teacher. If it hadn't been for you I might have been sailing into a war zone. Instead I'm attending things like this at the company's expense.'

'Ah well you were a one off Daniel, and who is to say I was right?'

'But you were. "Get your degree first," you said. "Then you can go in as an officer." So I got my degree. I learned so much that I realised that I didn't want to join the navy anymore. I wanted to design things, build new systems. You knew that would happen.'

'You give me more credit than I deserve. I saw the way challenges affected you. I knew there was something powerful between those ears of yours. You just had to wake up and realise it.'

He smiles at me. 'The most powerful computer in the world.'

He'd remembered what I used to tell them at the start of every course. I tap Lauren on the shoulder and she turns to face us.

'Lauren I'd like you to meet Daniel Reynolds, one of my students from my teaching days. Dan this is Dr Stockbridge, my colleague from Mumford Labs.'

Lauren offers her hand and Daniel shakes it. He gives me a knowing smile.

'I was going to ask if you fancied a beer tonight but I guess you've got better things to do.'

'I'm sure we'd love to have a beer with you tonight wouldn't we Lauren?'

'Only if we can start in The Savoy, I want to be able to say I've eaten in The Savoy Hotel. I won't tell them it was only bar snacks.'

Daniel laughs and immediately agrees. As he leaves to get back to his lunch she stands before me looking every bit as good as I remember. She's put on a little weight but only on the two points where it looks best. I stand there just taking her in. Her hair is perfect, make up just so. She is wearing a pale green skirt suit which shows off her legs. I've always admired her legs.

'You're looking well John.'

'You're not looking so bad yourself'

For a moment we just stand there looking at each other.

'What are you doing here Caroline?'

'I came to see you. I thought perhaps if I asked in person, and gave you plenty of notice, you might be able to spend Christmas with us this year.'

Lauren is shaking my arm.

'Lauren this is Caroline she's... '

'His wife, ' Caroline announced. 'I'm his wife'

To me it sounds like a challenge. She stares at Lauren daring her to respond. She is not disappointed.

'Oh so you're the one.'

'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'The mystery wife that everyone knows about but no one ever sees, and that includes John.'

I admit to Lauren's reaction takes me by surprise. Normally she is my calming influence but now she seems ready for a fight.

'If you'll allow me ladies I'll finish the introductions.

'Caroline this is my friend and colleague Dr Lauren Stockbridge'

Lauren picks up on my tone of voice. She makes her excuses and leaves us. I look at Caroline and for a moment, all the old desires come flooding back. Even now after five years I still want to take her in my arms and hold her. Perhaps that is the reason I cut myself off from her for all this time. I fight the urge to hug her and try to be calm again.

'What is it you want from me Caroline?'

'What I really want is you, but for now I'll settle for a chance to talk. We never really talked did we?'

People are starting to gather around. It happens a lot these days. Ever since the media got interested in the arm I rarely get to finish lunch, everyone wants to talk to me,

'Not here, not now Caroline how about tonight maybe we could have dinner or something.'

Her face lights up the way it used to when we were first married.

'That would be lovely, thank you'

'O.K. meet me in the bar of The Savoy Hotel about 6:30.'

She reaches out and strokes my arm.

'Thank you John, I'll look forward to it.'

Her eyes say she really means it; she turns and walks away.

'Doctor Fletcher?' Says the man standing by my left shoulder. 'It's started, I'll be lucky to eat much of the food on my plate. Across the room Lauren is talking to a young man I don't recognise. She notices me looking and rolls her eyes. Oh dear, there's another young man wasting his time.

I've finished my wine and eaten half the food on my plate when they call us back in for the afternoon presentations. I find my seat and Lauren slips into the seat beside me.

'She didn't stay long; I thought you had stuff to talk about.'

'We do, but this isn't the place.'

'I'm sorry. I'd planned to take you out tonight, as a sort of thank you, now I'll be taking Caroline instead.'

She puts her hand on top of mine. Her touch feels so good. Her hand is not as soft as most women. Hers, though still softer than a man's, are hands that have used tools. It's not the softness that matters; it's the tenderness it conveys, that makes me put my other hand on hers.

'I can't say I'm not disappointed. I had hoped we could make a night of it. I don't get to London much and you need to get out more.'

'When it comes down to it, she's your wife, and like it or not you must feel something for her or you'd be divorced by now.'

I turned and looked into her eyes.

'Such a wise head on such young shoulders.'

'If you knew the conflicts going on in my head you wouldn't say that. It's just easier to see the right thing to do when you're not involved.'

'Thanks.' I say patting her hand before turning my attention back to the stage.

She doesn't move her hand, but just leaves me to think for a few moments.

'John, you do know I'm always here for you don't you? Anytime, anywhere, you only have to call.'

I pat her hand again.

'What would I do without you?'

'Exactly what you do now, just with someone else.'

We fall silent as the first afternoon presentation starts. I feel guilty for not giving the presentations my full attention. I'll read the papers later. My mind is full of Caroline. Can Lauren be right? Do I still love her? Is that the reason I haven't divorced her? I always told myself that I couldn't be bothered, that I didn't have time. When I saw her today it all came back, I really wanted to take her in my arms. One thing is certain; I need to get my feelings sorted out.

The event is over for today. Lauren and I make our way back to our hotel. She goes up to her room while I have a word with the concierge. After a shower and changing into more casual clothes I am back down in the foyer talking to the concierge again.

The lift doors open and Lauren steps out wearing a sparkly silver cocktail dress that stops just above the knee and shows a little cleavage. Her hair is no longer pulled back into a pony tail but bounces off her shoulders as she walks. Over her arm she carries a dark green trench coat. It's no exaggeration to say that the sight of her takes my breath away.

'Wow! I mean just Wow. If you are trying to make me regret standing you up tonight, you are doing a fantastic job.'

She comes over and grabs my arm.

'You didn't stand me up. It's not as if we had a date or anything. I just thought that we might go out somewhere, so I brought this dress.'

'Well I'm sure you won't be out of place in the Savoy bar. Let me help you with your coat.'

I hold her coat open and help her put it on. She turns and takes my hands in hers.

'Be careful tonight John. She ambushed you today, caught you in a place where you wouldn't want her creating a scene. You don't do that unless you want something.'

She lets go of my hands and turns her attention to my shirt collar and my jacket.

'Just make sure you don't give her anything you don't want to.'

She buttons my jacket, and surprises me by kissing my cheek

'What was that for?'

'Just to remind you I'm always here for you.'

She pats my chest then turns and loops her arm through mine. We set off across The Strand heading for The Savoy.

Caroline is already there, sipping an orange juice. She seems surprised when I turn up with Lauren. She takes in every detail of the younger woman's appearance. A look of disappointment spreads across her face.

'Oh I'm sorry I didn't realise we were going out as a group.'

'Don't worry Caroline I think he has a plan, but he hasn't told me what it is.'

'All will clear once Daniel arrives.'

When he arrives, wearing jeans and a puffer jacket, he looks a little embarrassed.

'I was expecting to go down the pub, just the two of us. Now I feel a bit out of place.'

I order a beer for him and outline my plan.

'Dan, I'm hoping you'll do me a favour. Lauren has always wanted to see The Lion King and I had planned to take her. However, something else has come up and I've had to change my plans, so I wondered would you be kind enough escort her to the theatre'

'Well yeah, I suppose, but what about... '

Lauren giggles as Daniel starts to blush but soon regains his composure. He looks across to Lauren who is sitting on a bar stool with her legs crossed.

'I'm sorry, I mean I'd love to, I was just a bit surprised that's all.'

I caught her eye.

'Are you OK with this?' I whisper to her.

She nods back and whispers. 'He's quite sweet'

I hope that Daniel hadn't heard that, no man wants to be thought of as sweet.

I hand the company credit card to Lauren.

'Get yourselves something to eat. Your tickets are at the box office; just give them my name.'

As they leave Caroline nudges me. 'You have her well trained, her disappointment hardly showed.'

'I don't know what you mean. She wanted to see The Lion King, now she gets to go with someone her own age.'

Caroline shook her head. 'So what are we going to do?'

'We will finish our drinks then we are off to St Martin's Theatre to see The Mousetrap.'

'OK that sounds nice.'

'I take it you'd rather see The Lion King?'

'Well Yes, but The Mousetrap is fine.'

'Good because that's what was available at short notice. The concierge gave me a list; I chose The Mousetrap.'

'It's all right John. I'm sure The Mousetrap will be fine.'

'Good, now before we go I have a question that's been bugging me all day. How did you get into the seminar; it's supposed to be members only.'

'I came as Daniels guest.'

'You and Daniel? Surely you're not?'

'Good god, no! He came to the house looking for you. We got chatting; he said you would be presenting a paper, so I asked him to get me in. Oh John I'm so glad I came. I saw you up on the stage with everyone hanging on your every word, I was so proud. I wanted to jump up and tell everyone "That's my husband." Then it hit me; I don't really have the right to say that anymore. I went from elation to misery in an instant'

'Well I am still your husband unless you've divorced me without me knowing. You could you know; I've been gone long enough.'

'You know me better than that. I don't believe in divorce. Even if you divorce me I will still be your wife. We committed for life and that means life for me.'

We committed to exclude all others. You didn't have much trouble breaking that one.'

She winces.

'I lost my way for a while. I started to believe that I was as fantastic as everyone kept telling me. I put so much into making a success of everything that I felt entitled to enjoy myself.'

'And you didn't think you could enjoy yourself with me?'

'It wasn't like that John. I know it's difficult to understand but spending all my time working meant that I felt guilty enjoying myself with you. It was like I shouldn't be there I should be working, trying to pull the project together. All those people depended on me.'

'Didn't stop you enjoying yourself with Dewey though.'

'No it didn't, that's where he was clever; he made it sound like I was working for the project. It started with having dinners where there would be people who funded projects like ours, so it was like being there to secure funding. Of course, after a couple of weeks the potential funders stopped turning up, but we did get some grants. When that started to happen he made it sound like it was all down to him. I felt as if I owed him something. It was all very subtle, but I did feel pressured. When he asked me to go to London with him, I felt I owed him.'

'So you owed him your body. You know what that makes you don't you?'

'Oh don't John please. I've been through this so many times and you couldn't make me feel any worse than I already do. The sex didn't come into it for me; it was like the price I paid for having a little fun; fun I should have been having with you.'

'If it all started out so innocently, why didn't you tell your husband about these cosy little dinners with prospective funders? Come to that, you could have even invited him.

Tears are welling up in her eyes. She's had five years to rehearse all of this and she still can't do it without crying. She takes a deep breath and tries to control herself.

'I don't know I've been over it time after time and I still can't come up with an answer to that; I wish I could. It was like work and home were two different worlds, and you didn't exist in the work world'

'I didn't exist' I thought. 'I existed when she needed to recruit committee members to replace the ones that dropped the project in the shit. I existed when she needed to know how to lean on someone. Of course her leaning was much more subtle than mine but it was my ideas she was using. I existed all right.'

As she pulls out a tissue and dabs at her eyes, I glance at my watch.

'Get your coat, it's curtain up at 7:30; we need to get a move on.'

She picks up her coat and I help her put it on. On the way out of The Savoy the concierge offers to call a taxi for us but I decline. On a dry night like this, the best way from The Savoy to the other side of Covent Garden is to walk. We set off back across The Strand. She takes my hand as we cross the road and is reluctant to let go. Realising she won't keep up my normal pace in her high heels I restrict myself to a leisurely stroll.

'I was worried that you'd never be able to do this: walking like this I mean.'

'You and me both. I should've believed the doctors.'

'Why did you hide that from me? I was devastated when I found out you were in a wheelchair. It really hurt to know you would rather depend on strangers than me.'

'I didn't want you fussing around me out of guilt or pity. If you'd known it would have taken a police presence to keep you away from me.'

'It wouldn't have been guilt or pity. Well perhaps partly out of guilt, but mainly out of love. Is it so hard to believe that I love you?'

'At the time Caroline; yes it was. You destroyed me that night. When the paramedic told me what they were going to do to get me out of that car, I told him not to bother.'

She gasps and stops walking, turning me round to look at her. She looks deep into my eyes.

'Oh my god, you really mean it don't you. You really wanted to die.'

'At the time it seemed to solve all the problems. I wouldn't have had to deal with the situation and you'd be free to be with Dewey.

'I've told you before; it was never him I wanted. Do you think I would be here now if I wanted someone else?'

She throws her arms around and holds me tight, her head on my chest. The noise of the traffic shuts out what she was saying. I think she may be crying. She releases me and steps back. I can see the black lines where her mascara has run down her cheeks. She reaches into her bag for a tissue and dabs at her eyes. I take it from her and wipe the black marks from her cheeks.

'I think we'd better stop talking about this for now. Maybe after the theatre, eh?'

I smile at her and she tries to smile back. We walk on, into and across Covent Garden. She points out a large grandiose building lit up against the night sky.

'What is that place.'

'The Royal Opera House, 'I say. What I'm thinking is 'I'm surprised Dewey didn't take you there.'

'It's very impressive.'

'If you think the outside is impressive you should see the inside. I attended a function there a few months back. Mumford thought they should be represented and it fell to me.'

She cuddles up to my arm as if I've impressed her somehow. We walk on to the theatre and I collect my tickets with ten minutes to spare before curtain up.

'I must find the ladies room, I need to do some running repairs.'

She leaves me in the foyer and I kill time looking around waiting for her return. She always liked souvenirs of trips to the theatre, so I buy her a programme. When she comes back it's two minutes to curtain up. She sees the programme and her face lights up. She kisses me on the cheek and we hurry into the theatre. People grumble about having to get up for us to get by. As we reach our seats the house lights go down. We sit and I put my hand up on the arm rest. She covers my hand with hers and gives it a squeeze. As the stage lights come up I look at her. It's like I've gone back ten years; before Dewey and before her job took her away from me. We are a happy married couple enjoying a night at the theatre. I get that warm feeling in my chest just looking at her, and I realise; it doesn't hurt anymore. I remember her putting her job before us, her affair with Dewey, even the night when I finally knew what was going on. Yes, I remember it all, but it no longer hurts more than the pole that went through my guts. I can talk about it without wanting to throw up or burst into tears. What I feel when I look at her now is affection.