Chapter 7

Monday 11th May to Thursday 14th May 1970

On Sunday night I warned Zena that I would not be driving home the next evening, and she said she would take her own car.

So next day I left work a little early to miss the rush hour in Manchester, and drove to Liverpool. I arrived at 5.30, hoping to take her out for a meal before ringing practice, but she was not at home. I returned to the car, and moved it to where I could see the front door and her arrival, finding a space about 50 metres away. I had some water, so settled down to wait. She would have to come back to change: she would hardly be ringing in her teaching clothes. If she wasn’t ringing she would be coming home to work anyway.

Ten minutes later she came into view, walking briskly and entering the house before I could get out of the car. I was just getting out, when I saw one of the ringers from the church, who I remembered was called Martin Greaves, and who was at college with Penny. He was hurrying up the road and something made me get back in the car and watch.

He rang the bell, she came to the door, and then my spirits dropped like a stone. She kissed him. It was a long, warm, sensuous kiss with her body pressed against his. Then they went inside.

The feeling was akin to panic. What to do? Go to the front door and ring the bell? Surprise them? See them pretend to be only acquaintances? No. I’d wait and see. No bell ringing for me. I’d watch it out to the end.

Well, I did, and it made things clear. I knew she’d got teaching practice the next day, and likely as not needed to prepare or do marking. I waited over an hour; they were no doubt having a meal. At ten past seven they emerged, and walked off down the street hand in hand. They looked for all the world like a loving couple.

I followed at a discrete distance on foot until they entered the church, and then, knowing I had at least an hour, entered the pub and had a sandwich. I had little appetite but knew I needed food.

I was in position when the bells were rung down, and watched as the loving couple retraced their steps to the house. At the door they kissed again briefly before she let them in. I returned to the car, and settled myself. It was 9.45. I waited until 1.00 am and he still had not emerged. There was no way I was going to ring her doorbell now. The room was at the back of the house, I waited another half hour, then went round the back. The light was out. I drove home.

The roads were empty, and it was just as well, for my mind was not really on my driving. Neither were my thoughts in any sense logical, they swirled around my head. She was in a relationship with Martin Greaves. She was engaged to me. Was she going to leave me? Did I want her to stay with me after what I saw?

Now I knew I had been unfaithful, so while I was upset she was with someone else, I could not in conscience feel angry. But upset? Certainly. Worried and uncertain now when I had been certain before. And I did feel angry anyway.

By the time I got to my flat I felt hopeless, and I really didn’t want to know her any more. Then resentful. OK, so I fell. I was seduced, after all, it was a one night failing, but she was in more of a relationship than that. What’s more it had to have been going on since before the scene with Colette for them to behave that way. There was affection, warmth, and he stayed the night when she had work the next morning. I had forgotten that I too stayed the night with Colette and on that occasion all we did was sleep.

The next night, after a day when I was pretty useless at work (luckily there were no meetings with clients), I was back in Liverpool, parked 50 metres down from her house again, ready for her to arrive home. We would talk about this, we would clear the air and either break up or stay together. No more uncertainty.

That night was different. It was worse. I was expecting her to be alone, working on her lessons. She had told me how long were the hours she had to stay up working.

Tonight was different, for he arrived before her and let himself in with a key. I knew he didn’t live there, so she had given him a key. Had she given me a key? No, but he got one.

I was really angry now, and despondent. She arrived half an hour later and let herself in. I gritted my teeth and waited it out. As I waited I pictured her room. There was nowhere to sleep except the bed. I couldn’t imagine him sleeping on the floor. What would he do while she worked? There was no television, and he brought nothing with him in the way of books beyond a briefcase.

Wait a minute. This wasn’t the first time he’d stayed over. Neither was the day before. It seemed to be a regular arrangement, so he could have moved some of his own stuff in. He too must have been on teaching practice.

Again I waited until after one, and then I wandered to the back of the house again and looked up at her window. Again the light was out. No wonder she didn’t want me over.

I drove home defeated. That was the end for me. I had wasted a year and a half of my life on the woman, and for what? I would waste no more.

Yes, I was depressed, I was hopeless. There was that dull gaping emptiness in the pit of my stomach. I had loved her, still loved her, still wanted her, but she’d gone after someone else, chosen someone else. So why in hell’s name did she say yes when I proposed? Why hadn’t she broken up with me first? That would have been honest at least.

Wednesday morning I awoke and found it was the Thirteenth of May. Not Friday though. Perhaps there was something in the superstition. It didn’t help my mood.

I found myself walking into the office very early, not remembering anything of the journey back the night before nor of going to bed the previous night, nor indeed anything of getting up and getting to work in the morning. Did I remember to pick Zena up? She was in her office so I assumed I had. I remembered no conversation though. For someone with a photographic memory this was especially worrying.

I had a number of problem contracts to work on, so found the most difficult one and immersed myself in that; anything to forget Penny and what she’d done. I would not waste another day dreaming like yesterday.

In fact I became so immersed that I missed lunch and was deep in the labyrinth of clauses and sub-clauses. Whoever drew this up in such a complicated manner was hiding something nasty somewhere and I was going to find it. There was cheating afoot in this document, and I was actually very angry about it! I wonder why?

Way after finishing time I was still intent on discovering the skullduggery, when Zena poked her head in my office.

“Stop that, time’s up!” she said sharply. “Something’s up with you. You’ve had a scowl on your face all day, you said nothing all the way to work, and you’ve said nothing to anyone all day. Leave it and come talk to me.”

It shocked me. Before today the only time we’d talked was on the journey to and from work, during bridge and during our occasional cups of tea at her place. It was surface chatter, nothing serious. Now her pretty face was creased with worry, and my startled gaze lighted upon her jet black hair, her slender neck and the curve of her firm breast tops revealed by her v-necked jumper. Nice.

My second thought was, Why’s she so worried?

It must have shown in my face. She stood with her hands on her hips waiting. I put my work away. Then stood.

“Let’s go for a coffee,” she said. “Then I’ll take you out for dinner.”

I was so surprised that I simply went along with it. I also felt so drained, so exhausted, that I let her take charge, and we found ourselves before long in a coffee house with two coffees set before us. We had travelled in my car as usual, but she, after a worried glance at me, had asked to drive and I had let her.

“Spill,” she ordered and waited expectantly.

“My fiancée, my engagement, it’s off,” I began as an opener, and stopped. She looked briefly shocked then recovered.

“Mm?” she encouraged and waited again.

“You really want to know?”

“I really want to know.”

“Penny rang me very late on Friday, after midnight, she said she was at her brother’s for the weekend, so I decided to go see her on Monday night, do a bit of bell ringing with her, perhaps stay the night and come back here early Tuesday morning. I got there early and waited for her to arrive. She arrived, and then a ringer from the church arrived soon after, and they kissed at the door.”

“Friends’ kiss?”

“A lot more than that. They went in, and I suppose they had a meal, then went hand in hand for ringing practice. They were like lovers, cuddling up and kissing from time to time.”

“Who made the running?” she interrupted.

It stumped me, and I tried to remember. It was definitely him, but she went along with it willingly. I told her so.

“Carry on,” she said.

“They came back to her house and went in. I waited until after one, went to look up at her window, the light was out, so I came home. Yesterday I went back to talk to her about it, and again got there first. Martin, that’s his name, arrived and let himself in with a key! She arrived second, and they did not emerge again. About one thirty I again went round the back of the house to look up at her window. The light was out. There’s nowhere to sleep in that room but the one bed. So that’s it.”

“Come on,” she said, both of us having finished our coffees. “Dinner!”

She took me to a medium priced restaurant that served good simple food. She made no comment until we had finished the meal and were once again drinking coffee.