Chapter 22: Where ignorence is bliss 'tis folly to be wise...

London. November 30th, 2008

I heard the sounds of sex as soon as I entered the apartment. A female, moaning in delirium as she approached her climax. 'Yes, yes, I'm nearly there, I'm nearly there.' Then gutteral groaning, and gasps of frenzy, even before I opened the door to the lounge. Inside two figures were shagging on the carpet like there was no tomorrow.

It was if I had been transported back in time to 23 Kitchener Rooad when I returned from Afghanistan in May 2002.

A woman, legs wide apart and knees up to her ears, eyes screwed shut in passion, mouth open, screaming out, 'Harder, fuck me harder. I'm nearly there I'm coming, I'm coming; shoot your cum into me ... Now!"

A bare arsed man, pounding up and down, grunting as he thrust deep into the female writhing beneath him, and bellowing, "Yes, yes, fucking YESssss."

Except it wasn't Miriam being fucked by her brother Martin Hodge; it was Suzannah being fucked by my best friend Harry Ledbetter.

How big a cliché is that?

I had left home that morning to catch an early train to Catterick Camp to view the field trials of a prototype vehicle mounted IED detector. I was part of a team of five, and we expected to be away for three nights. Our train arrived in York on time, but it became clear we were not going to reach Catterick in the near future. Heavy snow had caused chaos on the rail network to the north and west of York. Even if we had transferred to a helicopter to continue our journey, Catterick Camp and the vehicle testing area, were under four feet of snow, with little prospect of a thaw for a week at least. There was nothing for it but to return to London.

Suki and Harry reached a simultaneous, noisy, orgasm, which I applauded. They had been so engrossed in fornication they hadn't heard me enter the room. I believe I could have poured myself a drink, and then sat down and switched on the TV, without disturbing them.

They pulled apart hastily, making an obscene squelching sound as their genitals, sticky with semen, unstuck. Shock, surprise, fear, showed on both their faces, and on Harry's the extra emotions of shame and guilt.

They quickly rearranged their clothing. Harry merely pulled up his underpants and trousers, but Suki had to retrieve her knickers from the back of the settee, and then step into them.

Harry was the first to speak. "Dave, I'm so sorry... " His voice tailed off when he saw, by the expression on my face, what I thought of him. He probably also remembered what I did to Martin Hodge after I found him shagging Miriam.

I had maimed that scumbag for life.

Suki adjusted her knickers, then smoothed her down her skirt.

"It's only a shag, Dak, no big deal." Her voice was calm and reasonable. She was one hell of a woman. I find her fucking another man and she acts if it no more than a handshake.

I still had my weekend holdall in my hand, and went into our bedroom to dump it, nearly tripping over a similar case. It was Harry's, which showed the shag I had witnessed wasn't just a one off. Obviously he intended staying the three nights I was due to be away. How many other nights had he been sticking his cock into my wife while I had been absent on MilSys business?

I probably could have learned to live with a 'one off' shag between the two people in the world who I most loved, but the evidence of Harry's suitcase broke my heart. I went back to the lounge, still carrying my case. They were standing a little way apart, and appeared as if they had been in a heated argument.

"My solicitor will be in touch," I said, in a flat, unemotional tone of voice, addressed to Suki. "I don't want to see or hear from either of you again. You have broken my heart." This was addressed to them both.

"It was only a fuck; it meant nothing to me or Harry. You're not going to walk out of our marriage over something so insignificant?" Suki said, true bewilderment in her voice.

I stared at her coldly. "I could probably forgive you in time for breaking your marriage vows..."

Suki Greviously laughed. "David, you are so Victorian. Lifelong monogamy is an outmoded concept. We love one another, but we don't own each other's bodies; marriage vows are anachronisms and meaningless, as you well know, you broke yours constantly during your first marriage."

She had me there, but betraying me with my best friend was something else.

I turned and faced Harry. "But you, Ledbetter." I gave a great sigh, a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "Never in a million years would I believe you capable of doing this to me."

Harry hung his head, shamefaced, and I thought of the old saying 'A standing prick has no conscience'. It could have been used by him as mitigating circumstances, but he was my closest and most trusted friend; he knew what a sacrilege he had committed by fucking a comrade's wife.

I turned and left, out of the apartment, out of their lives.

As I waited for the lift Suki called plaintively behind me. "Come back, David. We need to discuss this like adults."

The lift arrived, and as I entered I heard Suki's last, despairing, cry as the door closed behind me. "For God's sake, Dak, it was only a fu..."

I never saw either one of them again.

I took the lift to the underground garage and got into the Porsche. Although I was the titular owner of the vehicle Suki got the most pleasure from driving it.

I started the engine, flooring the accelerator to max revs, and was mightily tempted to slip the clutch and hurtle into the concrete wall, but instead aimed for the exit and left with spinning wheels and the stench of burning tyres. Depriving Suki of the car could be considered a mean and utterly juvenile thing to do, and I relished every minute of the drive from the centre of London to Iver

I still had my flat in Bourne Mansions; which had been rented out on a short lease but now stood vacant, awaiting a new tenant. Steve Burlington looked up in surprise from the reception desk as I entered the building.

"Hello, Dave, I didn't expect to see you..." his voice tailed off when he saw the expression on my face. "What's happened?" he asked anxiously.

"If either my wife or Harry Ledbetter telephone I am not at home, and I don't want either of them shown up to my flat." I spoke sharply, as an employer would speak to his employee.

Steve didn't bat an eye, "Yes sir. I'll make a note immediately." He acted in a fully professional way, and I warmed to a man I had got to know as well as any in my life. We now addressed each other by our given names, rather than army or civvy nicknames. He was at least 20 years my senior, and a man for who I had a great deal of respect.

"I'm a bit shell shocked at the moment, Steve," I said, justifying my rude manner.

I didn't get a wink of sleep during the night. The film in my head kept re-running the same clip of two people having strenuous sex.

Two people who I had loved and trusted.

Two people who had shat on me.

Next morning I sought out Steve and made my apology for my abruptness of the previous day, and told him my marriage was over and why. His face was impassive as he listened to my story. "I'd kill both of the bastards, Ledbetter slowly and painfully," he said when I finished the tale.

"I did think of it," I said wearily. "Suzannah can't see what all the fuss is about, but of course Harry does, and will suffer for the rest of his life knowing what a treacherous, two-timimg, shit sucking, back stabbing cunt he has been."

I next contacted my solicitors to start divorce proceedings in view of my wife's adultery, citing Harry Ledbetter as co-respondent.

Milton, Marvelll and Marlowe were the same firm who had dealt with the Bourne Mansions flat purchase, and Stephanie Bowley, now Colville, would get to know about the scandal. As a daughter of the regiment she knew comrades in arms depend on each other. If they indulged in rumpty pumpty with each other's wives it could lead to problems when push came to shove in a combat situation, and lives could be lost due to friction between members of a unit because of the previous sexual misbehaviour with their wives.

It just wasn't done.

'Yes, but you are no longer in the army, or the regiment.' I hear you say.

Correct, but civvies don't realise a squaddie never really leaves his regiment.

It is his family. He behaves as if still serving with the colours and his mates, no matter how long ago he served. Well, this is how I, and many former members of HM Forces, believe and behave.

I could probably forgive Suki in time, she is a civvy with no concept of a military code of honour. Harry's crime was unforgiveable; he knew the code, and had been brought up to revere it by his father, grandfather, great-grandfather. Ancestors going way back and beyond, every one of them 95th Rifles men.

As expected, Stephanie showed up at my flat a day later. She looked as tasty as when we had been regular shagging partners seven years ago, and in fact even better. She had married Raymond Coleville not long after my marriage to Suki, and by the glow of her she and Raymond were still enjoying the honeymoon.

Steph was as angry as a nest of disturbed hornets. "Suzannah Weston and her mother are a couple of trollops, who between them have shagged every male in Shropshire between the age of sixteen and sixty." She exploded, furious faced. "Sophia Weston is a nymphomaniac, and I fear her daughter has inherited the nympho gene. But I would never believe Harry Ledbetter would do such a thing as to screw the wife of a friend and fellow Greenjacket, although I know most of his brains are in his testicles."

I was surprised Stephanie knew of Suki's teenage escapades in Shropshire, but it transpired Stephanie's family, the Napiers, live in the same area of Shropshire as the Ledbetters and Westons. The County pecking order being the Ledbetters followed by the Napiers, with the Westons a very poor third.

I ignored the slur on my wife's reputation. I knew she had enjoyed a wide, wild, and varied sex life during her teenage years, and while up at Oxford, but, as I told Stephanie, Suzannah had calmed down when working in the US.

Steph burst out laughing. "Who told you that load of poppycock, Suzannah? She had a string of affairs with work colleagues, surf and beach bums, and some unsavoury characters with connections to the Mafia. Her father was worried sick." Steph fixed me with a stern gaze, "and I don't want this to go any further. Bertram and I had an extremely passionate three month affair, and he would tell me all of the troubles Suzannah got herself into ... pillow talk of a sort, I suppose."

"Well, she settled down to monogamy when she married that Zeke bloke."

Once again Steph erupted into laughter. "I suppose it was Suzannah who told you all that tosh as well? The truth is the pair of them were swingers. It seems the intellectuals of Cambridge University, and the technocrats of Silicon Fen, are enthusiastic swingers, and there was/is a very active local group. Suzannah and Zeke swung their way through most of the available flesh on offer, and it was only Sophia Weston reverting to her former habit, of shagging Suzannah's boyfriends and getting Zeke into her bed, which infuriated Suzannah so much she divorced him."