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Copyright© 2017 by Always Raining
Chapter 5
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5 - John Colshaw's wife suddenly divorces him, telling him he knows what he's done, but he doesn't, and his attempts to find out meet with rejection and even violence. Getting a job transfer proves advantageous, but this interferes with his quest for justice. Will discovering the truth make his life OK again? Not sure whether this story contains little sex, or some sex. Somewhere between?
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Slow
Vicky had found John a house. It was in the same area, a detached five bedroomed house with a large enclosed garden and intimidating gates. It was really a beautiful house, and needed little attention. The owners wanted a quick sale in February, one of the worst months for selling houses, especially since that February was a very grey, cold and wet one.
With the business of getting to know his new rôle as Managing Director, to say nothing of every aspect of the work they were doing, then the negotiations concerning the house, John had little time to concentrate on disabusing Carol of her misconceptions, or perhaps confronting her with her own deception. He knew that this would take all his concentration and skill, and that he needed to wait until he had the time.
It was with a sense of guilt that John realised that over a month had passed since he had returned, and he had not visited his parents. He had phoned weekly, but his mother wanted to see him and Vicky as well before she went home to Canada. So on the Saturday the pair went to spend the weekend with his parents.
The main news was that his parents wold be leaving in their mobile home in early May. Both were retired and usually spent the summer touring somewhere in Britain or the European mainland.
The days lengthened but the negotiations over the house dragged on. It was the beginning of April two months later before he could move into the house, and immediately after he took possession Vicky’s work came to an end and she went back to Canada.
Now he was alone. He spent a weekend buying furniture and another taking delivery. He furnished one room downstairs quite simply, equipped and stocked the kitchen, the master bedroom and the best guest room. He moved his malt whisky collection then emptied the flat and took his possessions, clothing and music system in a number of journeys to his new home. Then he went to shop for food, and bought some more malts to celebrate his new life.
He also upgraded the house alarms and was able to get the place wired (except that it was wireless) and CCTV installed. Everything else could wait.
He employed the same gardener and cleaner the previous owners had used. When all that was completed, he felt at ease. He liked the house and felt at home there. He had driven past the house Carol and he used to live in, but it was clearly in other hands. Carol had moved out, not surprisingly since the mortgage had been exorbitantly high for a single woman in her job.
He reviewed his options. If she was living with Liam Malley, the company had the address and Julie would provide it. Then there was her phone number. She had phoned him from her mobile phone and now he had her number. As a travelling buyer for her firm, she would have good text capability on her phone. Finally there was her firm. Perhaps he would be put through now he was no longer her erring husband.
Julie meanwhile had not been idle. She had used one of the sites that find people, putting the place as Manchester, and then trying her name as Colshaw. No one called Carol. Then Malley, again no result, finally Irwin, and hit the jackpot. One Carol Irwin. A flat in Didsbury and a landline number.
Then it was Deja Vu.
He tried her landline. There was no answer but it went to her answer-phone.
“Carol, this is John. You were good enough to tell me when and where I am supposed to have cheated. I now have information which you need to see. The photo’s which you still haven’t allowed me to see, could well be true, but they don’t tell the true story. I have evidence. Please call me to arrange a meeting.”
There was no reply for a week, and he wondered if she was living with Liam. There was no way he was going to phone that number, so he tried her cellphone. It went to voicemail. He ignored that and instead sent her a text.
Have info for you. Pics not true meaning. Have true evidence. Meet me please. John.
Again there was no response after three days. Now he knew she was behaving as she had before the divorce. He sent an email.
Carol please can we meet? Bring Liam along if you want. Now I know when my ‘cheating’ happened, I can give you an explanation. Why are you running away from the truth of the matter? John.
John was disappointed, though he was not surprised. This seemed to be her usual way of dealing with him. He no longer felt anger, just dull resignation.
It was Good Friday the next day, and he dutifully went home to his parents for the long weekend. As usual he slept a good deal of the time; home seemed to relax him and he felt the tension of Carol and the job dissipate. He returned on Eater Monday and was back in the office on Tuesday reinvigorated.
It was company policy that all conversations in managers’ offices were recorded, and that included phone conversations. Anyone who phoned the offices got a message telling them this. It was more efficient.
John was glad of it when Liam Malley burst into his office that morning, followed by Julie who wore an expression between anger and worry. John noticed she waited at the door.
“Listen Colshaw,” he shouted, leaning over the desk, “I told you to leave Carol alone. I won’t have you bothering her. Stop it or I warn you–”
“You’ll do what, Mr. Malley?” John said.
“You know what happened the last time; it’ll be worse this time. Keep away from her.”
“You are of course referring to your buddies, Carol’s brothers?” John asked calmly.
“You know what I mean! They won’t be so gentle this time. Butt out.”
“You say my calls are ‘bothering’ Carol. Unless she answers them how do I know it’s not you that’s bothered? It can’t hurt for her to meet me. You can come along to protect her. It’s a reasonable request.”
“Listen, you prick,” he snarled, “I won’t tell you again. Stay away from her.”
“I haven’t gone near her, I used the phone and an email,” John said glibly, a smile playing on his lips, “and do I get the impression you are threatening me?”
“You bet I’m threatening you. I’m protecting my fiancée from your stalking.”
“Now listen Mr. Malley,” John now became intense, “My patience is wearing thin. This is the second time you have behaved in an inappropriate manner to me. I understand you feel insecure about your fiancée, and I pointed out that it’s only because she’s my ex-wife that I’ve tolerated your previous outburst. I told you to keep your private life away from work. What part of that don’t you understand?”
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