Chapter 18

The meal that evening was fairly desultory, although the food was good. We talked about neutral things, we agreed that maybe we should start talking in earnest about private schools for the boys from September, especially as she now lived outside of the proper catchment area for their current school. Then we talked safely about old friends and acquaintances, ones we'd lost because of the divorce, or because I'd moved away, or because they'd moved away.

And that led to my mentioning that I'd met up with Keith and Anne Walters, and that they were now living in San Diego. Which in turn led to a conversation about life on the West Coast of the States. Which in turn led to Molly talking about how she had always wanted to visit Las Vegas.

Now my first visit to Las Vegas was about nine months after our divorce. And my memory was of a really charming and quite beautiful girl who I picked up in a bar at about eleven o'clock one night, and by two o'clock she was in my bed at my hotel. She really was a nice person and the sex was good if pretty vanilla. But my real memory was of me coming out of the bathroom the next morning, and she was just waking up, with her long brunette hair splayed across the pillow, and she opened her eyes and saw me and smiled. A pretty, soft and loving smile. I just looked at her coldly, and told her that I was off to a breakfast meeting, and that she was welcome to call room service for some breakfast, and that I'd see her around. My very last memory of her was with a tear rolling down her face, as I walked out.

And so Molly got the full benefit of my bitter lecture on how her fucking stupid thoughtlessness, her selfish lust, lead to hurt and pain for others. "Throw a pebble into a pond and there are ripples, Molly. Just because you wanted to be fucked by Peter Davies one afternoon, some poor girl who you don't know, haven't met and probably will never meet, ends up in tears in a hotel bedroom in Las Vegas."

Molly turned and looked at me, her eyes were blazing, "No, Chris. No. I'll take the blame for what I did wrong. I'll go to my grave feeling guilty about that. But I am not going to be blamed for what you did some eighteen months later and some five thousand miles away, to some girl who I've never met. That was your choice, Chris. You were a grown man and a responsible adult. I didn't reduce that girl to tears, you did." Her voice was full of anger and choking with emotion, her eyes were streaming tears. She stood up and stormed from the room, heading for the front door.

I caught up with her in the hall. I grabbed her arm, "Don't go..."

"Why not? So that you can find an argument that you can hang on me. I've heard it Chris. I know it Chris. And I don't need it, not anymore."

"Because... Because..."

Because what? Because I loved her? Or needed time to say sorry? Or because we couldn't end this way? I was just choosing my words, and looking at her with tears in my eyes.

She took one step towards me, and put her arms around me and simply kissed me, fully on the mouth. And I kissed her back. And on the second kiss, my arms went round her, and I kissed her harder.

Eventually, our heads parted and I looked into her eyes, "Let's go to bed." was all I said, and I took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

She didn't say a word, but she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. Under it she was wearing a matching bra and thong in coffee silk and cream lace, and hold-up stockings and high heeled sandals. And she looked fabulous.

I can't say we made love, but it was hell of a lot more than just fucking. There was no foreplay, no oral either way. And it was all missionary position. I changed with the waves of emotion that rolled over me, sometimes I pumped very, very slowly, and watched her, propping myself up on straightened arms above her. Other times, I hammered into her, with my face pressed into her neck and the pillow above her shoulder. I did notice that whenever possible, she watched me. I've never made love to Molly before when she hasn't shut her eyes, but except for when she rode her orgasms, she watched me, looking into my face whenever she could.

Eventually, I came in a sweaty, thumping, pile driving final couple of minutes. And I rolled off her.

As we lay quietly, getting our breath back and staring at the ceiling, Molly asked in a quiet voice, "Why? Why now? Why as I was about to walk out?"

I paused to choose my words, "Because I suddenly saw something that I hadn't realised was missing, but I need so much." I propped myself up my elbow and looked at her, "For a big part of my life I'm a professional managing director. Its what I am, its who I am. And I become the team leader, the businessman; the man who watches for effectiveness and efficiency; who cares about use of assets and how markets are moving. But, I never have a true in depth knowledge or experience of the industry I'm in, it's not the ITI way. So, it's very easy for me to talk absolute crap. To say something that I think is brilliant and very profound, but actually is total bullshit. And very few people will tell me so. Piers probably would. Carole definitely would, if she got to hear of it. Neil might, if it was something professional about HR and Group policy. But the others, I doubt it. They might suggest that we revisit the idea later, or that maybe a consultant should be called in to look at it, but not actually say to me what needs to be said, that it was a crap idea." I paused and put my arm across her body, just below her breasts, "But, suddenly I saw the old Molly. The one who wouldn't take crap from me. And I need that, deep down I need it a lot."

I flopped back down to stare at the ceiling again. But then a thought crossed my mind, "You were dressed rather nicely under that dress tonight. Did you know this would happen?"

She laughed, "No. If you'd made this move on any of the evenings we've had together in what? Eight weeks? You'd have found me in nice bra's and thongs or strings or lacy panties, and stockings. Tonight, when I showered, I wondered, should I bother? I really thought we were through. I think I dressed as a one last show of bravado for my own sake."

"I'm glad you did."

"I could do it again, if you like."

"Have sex or wear sexy lingerie?"

She knelt up alongside me, looking down. "Both." She said, with a smile. She looked down at my cock, and there appeared to be some hesitation about her.

"What is it?" I asked, concerned she'd seen something nasty.

She looked back at, right into my eyes, "Are we talking again? Are we going to be doing this again?"

"I hope so. Why?"

"Because I was about to do something that I've wanted to do for so long. I was going to suck you. Do you know, I realised that I can't really remember what you taste like, what you smell like? And I've wanted to be able to do that for so long. I know I used to love sucking you, it really was important to me to be that close to you. And I haven't been able to do that for years." She gave me a serious look, "I really have missed you Chris, remember I haven't had any man in my mouth for so long. And I was just about to do it, but I realised that you probably smell and taste a bit of me at the moment, and that's not what I want." She smiled, "Not that I object to sucking you after you've been in me, but I want just pure you. So, I'll do that another time."

"Let's make it a date. How's Thursday in your diary? I could manage having a blow job on Thursday, and I'd hate you to have to go too much longer without satisfying your curiosity."

She smiled. "I could manage that."

"Fancy a coffee?" I asked, I didn't want to break up the sex, but I did want to talk. So, when she said Yes, I told her to wait there, in bed, and I went off to the kitchen and came back with two mugs of coffee.

Once we were settled again, I said "Can we go back to the fateful afternoon a moment? I have a question."

Molly was obviously listening and waiting, so I continued, "It's something Jeanette said. She suggested that one of the reasons for your mistake may have been that we had fallen into the habit of safe, vanilla sex, because of the boys and the general pressures of life. That having spontaneous sex was normal and exciting and you missed it, and happily responded when it was available, but it was just the wrong man."

She thought about that for quite some time, sipping her coffee. "It's not an excuse. You know that, don't you Chris? I'm not making excuses. But, Yes, I did miss some of the naughtier things we used to do. But I don't know if it influenced me that afternoon or not, and certainly not consciously."

"I missed them too. I just thought it was something that went with having two little boys running around the place. The kitchen table in the middle of Sunday afternoon was out." I said with a laugh.

She smiled, "Do you remember our first house, before Jamie. It might have been the cause of Jamie, come to think of it. Every room, including that silly little guest toilet. I put so much pressure on that door that time, with my foot sticking straight out, that the door lock always used to jam slightly from that day on. It always made me smile when a guest could be heard rattling the door before it would open."

"Well, maybe there's a lesson in this to be learnt by both of us."

She raised her coffee mug in a toast, "To slightly kinky, spontaneous, sex. But in private."

And privately, to myself, I promised we would just gently push the envelope.

On Wednesday, my mood must have been obvious, because Carole brought me my first cup of coffee, looked at me and said, "Well, obviously you sorted something out last night, and you are happy with it."

I smiled, "I had a long talk to the delectable Molly. It was a bit touch and go at times, but we got there." And I winked.

She smiled, "And you delected! Well that explains a lot. But it is good progress. Immoral, but good progress."

"Why immoral?"

"Because she is a married woman, and not to you. That was the problem in the first place." She paused, "But I guess to the Catholics you're still married first time around, so I guess they wouldn't mind."

"I'm not a theologian, but I think even they may find fault with that argument."

"Well, while you're in a good mood, let me spoil it for you."

"What?" I said with trepidation.

"The powers that be want you at their strategy planning conference in Cannes, Friday to Sunday, 17th to 19th of August. To be followed by attending and speaking at the Group Conference in Hawaii, 3rd to 7th of September."

"Nice places." I said, forlornly. "In business terms it could make me, but in private terms I'm not so sure. I assume I don't have an option."

"Not really. And you can nominate two ordinary members of staff to go to the Hawaii conference with you. And can I come? I've never been to Hawaii, please Sir, please. I promise to be good. Pretty please."

I smiled, "What do they mean by ordinary? And aren't any other directors invited?"

"I don't know, the guide lines vaguely refer to executives who make an outstanding contribution. And no other directors are going. It is an exercise in corporate communication and involvement." She shrugged, and added, "Don't ask me."

"Well, I guess the obvious two are Piers McBaine and Stephen Hobbs. That way there is a representative of all three establishments. And they'll be good company if I'm going to be trapped in some hotel with them. But you'd better check that they are acceptable before you say anything." I paused, "So who's waiting outside, queuing to see me?"

"Myra, with the Abbey development project."

"Then send in the delected Myra."

"I'd forget about that if I were you." Carole said as she left my office.

The meeting with Myra was good. There are occasional business colleagues where you know how they're thinking, and they know how you're thinking. And when you're both on the same side it saves so much time and trouble. I agreed to setting up a group to work with an architect to design new, purpose built laboratories. And I promised to tell Piers all about it, and to launch the project. What I also knew, and didn't talk about, is that Peter Davies has to be a member of that project.

On the Thursday, I got in to find Molly cooking in the kitchen. She greeted me with a big smile, and came over to me and kissed me on the lips. Then she stood back and looked worried.

I held both her hands, "I meant it on Tuesday, it wasn't a dream, we are back on some sort of track, to see where we end up. As I promised you at Longleat."

She kissed me again, "And I meant it on Tuesday, you've got a date with a blow job. Remember?"

"I'll let you into a secret, men tend not to forget that sort of appointment. What do you fancy, a glass of wine or a little taster?"

"I fancy a little taster, but I'll have a glass of wine."

"How about both?" I asked with a hopeful smile...

And from that night on, we were back to where we were before I'd done my best to spoil it all. But there were two major changes. First, there was sex. Great sex. Second, there was a major change in me. I still didn't know if we could put it all back together again, but now I wanted Molly and my family back in my life like I've never wanted anything before.

The sex was so important. I guess it released us from all the frustrations and tensions that a celibate life would have imposed. But it was so much more than that. It allowed us to talk. All the delicate discussions that both of us would have had difficulty with, normally because of the fear of hurting the other one, became possible in that open, honest, relaxed atmosphere after sex.

We also relaxed a little from the rigidity of the Tuesday and Thursday night schedule. In fact, on that first Saturday, I took her to the theatre, and for dinner afterwards, although we scrupulously and without a word being said avoided significant restaurants in King Street. I did note in my mind that there was another hurdle to be overcome. I wouldn't have no go areas in my life, and certainly not ones created by Peter Fucking Davies.

I'm not saying our relationship was easy, because it wasn't. It was easy in parts. We seemed to have an understanding, that we were in each others lives, and maybe that was going to be true for the rest of our lives. And we were happy and easy around each other. But we still had a lot of issues to work out, and we were a long way from living happily ever after.

For the rest of July we were on some sort of high of having rediscovered each other sexually, but that calmed down by the last Tuesday of the month, which was the last day of the month. We again talked about the boys schooling, and agreed that for their sake it would be better to leave them where they were for another term. Officially their address was still Peter and Molly's old house, so they did officially live in the correct catchment area, and we had no idea where Molly was going to live in the long term, and they had enough going on in their lives, they didn't need to change to a new and temporary school.

We also agreed that they needed a holiday, and we spent a large part of the evening sitting up in bed, after the sex, booking Molly and the boys to go and stay in a nice looking villa in Majorca for the two weeks that started on the day I would fly to Cannes.

And, finally, the month ended on a down note, when Molly told me that her Aunt Brenda had phoned her. Apparently, she was mystified with all that was going wrong in Susan's life, and needed to talk to someone. Ralph had basically put the phone down on Derek when he'd tried, so Brenda was trying with Molly. But Molly didn't want to talk to anyone associated with Susan. So she asked me to do it. Great! More bloody Susan.

So, I did phone Brenda, but they couldn't meet me in the evenings, because they ran a guest house, and I didn't want to meet in the daytime because I liked to work for my living. Eventually, I agreed to meet both Brenda and Derek, but definitely not Susan, in my office on the Friday, for a sandwich lunch. Bloody Friday again!

They arrived late, which annoyed me more. I looked at them, Brenda was obviously Susan's sister, slightly older, but she had kinder eyes and a warmer smile. Derek had a cheerful, open face and a ready smile. I thought they seemed right somehow for running a seaside guesthouse.

Apparently they'd had an unhappy guest that morning that had delayed them, and I understood from the "So, it's all the more important that we understand what's been going on." comment that Susan had upset the guest.

Once we'd sat down, and had chosen our drinks from the cans that Carole had laid out, I held out my hands as an invitation to start talking.

Derek started, "Well, first, thank you Chris for seeing us. I hope you can help. Let me explain, from our point of view." He paused and took a breath, "Some weeks ago Susan phoned and said she wanted to get away for a bit, could she come and stay? We sort of read between the lines that she and Ralph had some sort of problem, so we said yes. But it was low season, and she could actually help. It would save us a week or two of taking on seasonal staff, and we weren't fully booked, so she was welcome to use a bedroom. But that was weeks ago, and it is now high season. And Ralph is divorcing her, and she's very upset. We can understand that, but she tends to talk to some of the guests, and she can go on a bit about her troubles, and it's all becoming a bit of a problem."

I smiled, "I can understand that. But, she has money. I can't believe that Ralph is not making her an allowance. So why not charge her?"

"Well, it's a bit awkward. She is Brenda's sister, and she is going through a bad patch, and we said she could stay if she helped out a bit. And she's doing that, sort of. But she's in a guest bedroom, not a staff room, and it's all been going on too long."

"Well, I'm not sure there is anything I can do. Ralph's divorcing her, his mind is made up. She's got to start building her own life. Why not encourage her to rent a flat somewhere?"

Brenda put her sandwich down and asked, "Do you know why Ralph is divorcing her? We don't. I'm not sure that Susan really understands, she knows he's upset with her over something she said or did to Molly, but apparently that was years ago. We know that Molly is upset with her as well. We were wondering if you could talk to Molly, get her to patch things up with Susan, then Ralph might forgive her or whatever. And even if he doesn't, then maybe Susan could go and live with Molly for a bit, we understand that Molly's marriage has fallen apart as well, and she used to be so close to her mother, they might get on well at the moment. They're both sort of in the same boat."

I chewed on my ham and salad sandwich, and then I drank some of my orange juice, very aware that there were two expectant faces looking at me, watching me. I was wondering just how much I should say, but the truth seemed the easiest answer. So I did, in fairly short and concise terms, tell them the truth as I knew it.

They asked a couple of questions along the way, and I was just finishing with "So, Molly's divorce comes up on September 12th. And Molly and myself talk a lot, but whether we'll actually get back together I don't know. One thing I'm certain about is that at the moment, Molly wants to have nothing to do with her mother whatsoever. Personally, that worries me a bit, but as for Ralph, I think he's just decided that he'd be happier without her than with her." Just then, Carole put her head round the door, I guess she was just back from her own lunch and thought Brenda and Derek either never showed or would be gone by now.

Brenda and Derek looked at each other. I felt they didn't know what to say. I had realised from the questions they asked, Susan had given them some idea of what the problems were, without ever telling them the full story.

I looked at them and smiled, "Perhaps you'll excuse me for a minute or two, I think my secretary wants a word with me." And I left them to talk.

When I came back into the room, it was Derek talking to Brenda, "... I know she's your sister, but we can't have her talking to the guests like she was last night. It'll cost us our reputation. She's got to start living her own life..."

Brenda smiled at me, "I'm sorry for what my sister did. I guess history is repeating itself in its way. And it was Susan that was so vehemently angry when it happened to her."

Now that got my interest, "Tell me."

Brenda sat back, "I don't think you ever knew our father, he'd died before you came onto the scene. He was a very straightforward sort of man. Men worked and earned the money, women kept house and looked after the men. Well Mummy died when she was only forty eight, I'd left home by then, but Susan was still at home. Daddy naturally thought that Susan's job was look after him, now that Mummy wasn't there to do it."

Suddenly she looked worried, "Nothing sexual. Please don't think that. No, but it was her job to keep house and do the cooking. She could have boyfriends and go out on dates, but only after she's cooked him a meal and washed up afterwards. And she had to be in by ten thirty because he liked to lock up and go to bed around then. I think she only married Ralph to get away from Daddy." She frowned, "I think that's why Ralph doesn't like me very much. About two weeks after their engagement, I told him he was a silly fool. But they've made it last well over thirty years, so I guess there must have been something in it. But I still think it was more Ralph loving her than the other way around. I guess the imbalance has finally showed."

"And that's where Susan learnt that the older generation has a right to demand love and support from the younger generation, I guess." I concluded, but then added, "It's easily done, taking the wrong lessons from the past. I used to think that because I grew up without a father, it didn't matter too much to my sons if I wasn't there. I was wrong. And Susan is wrong."

Both of them nodded their heads, "But Susan hates her father for what he did, but she doesn't see the parallel, or certainly doesn't admit to it. She blames you for all of this. When she found out that we were coming here today, she was quite upset that we were being disloyal to her. We were going to talk to the enemy, the man who had wrecked her life. But we just had to find out what was going on."

"I know she hates my guts. Well, I guess my coming back to Bristol was the start of it all going wrong for her and Peter. By the way, I don't know how much Peter and Susan are still talking, but I'd be grateful if you don't tell Susan too much about Molly's divorce, or that Molly and myself are talking. It might just spark off some reaction by either Susan or Peter, and I don't want that. Let things just take their natural course. Please."

Derek immediately responded, "Not a problem We understand. It can't be easy for you or Molly, or Ralph come to that."

As they said goodbye, I wished them well. I'd met them a few times at family gatherings, years ago, but this had been the first time I'd sat down and really talked to them. I thought they were rather nice, but I didn't envy them their problem of having a bitter Susan on their hands.

That weekend, Molly and myself had another long discussion about Susan. She did say that Heather Washington was really helping her accept that her mother was out of her life. Apparently, Heather had some difficulty with this, her career was based on bringing people back together and not breaking them up. Molly did admit that she still felt bitter about Susan's betrayal, but it seemed that she was now reconciled to never wanting to see her mother again, and seemed quite philosophical about it.

The next couple of weeks went by quickly. I think Molly and myself were really beginning to enjoy our relaxed routine. A pattern was emerging of still spending at least one night a week talking about some aspect or other of all that happened, and that wasn't always easy. But we also went out to dinner, or to see a film or to the theatre on other nights.

It was on one of our serious discussion nights that Molly asked about the girls I'd known, especially Helene. It took me some time to tell her everything as well as I could. But, she really didn't like that I'd used prostitutes and brothels, that was somehow beyond acceptable behaviour to her. And Helene warranted a discussion over dinner all to herself, and that was very rough for Molly. Partly, I think it was because Helene and myself had come to no emotional end, except that I moved away, and thought it better for both Helene and myself that I left her in Holland. I couldn't say that I grew to not love her, or that she cheated on me, or a hundred and one endings that Molly would have preferred. I could only say that I had left her behind in every sense.

And then there was Myra! Molly really had a thing about Myra, and I could never quite work out why. My first clue was the monosyllabic replies to my chatting over dinner one evening, telling her about some of the things that happened at work. The day before I was meant to have had a late afternoon meeting with Myra to discuss Exeter. But I was running late, and the meeting was only meant to be a short discussion, so when I did get to Myra I apologised for my lateness by sharing a bottle of cold Chardonnay in the local wine bar, and we discussed Exeter there. It was a business meeting of two friends, but Molly obviously didn't like it.

And that brought us to mid-August. It was odd going to the airport, four of us in the car. They all took off first, heading for Majorca, but I was only one hour behind them, heading for Cannes.

The Group Strategy Conference was good. It was very high-powered. Effectively, it was the main board, plus some support staff from Head Office, and a stream of guys like me, making special presentations. But almost all of those other guys were in and out merchants, only there for a day or even a half day. There was only myself and one other guy, Patrick Redmond, who were there for the whole three days. Obviously, Patrick and myself were destined for great things, we were marked men. Patrick was a really nice guy, and Managing Director of one of our financial services companies in Canada, and we got on really well, which was interesting, as we were obviously rivals for some unnamed prize.

My session with the Board was particularly interesting. Not only did I give my report on the future for Franks, but I was allowed to discuss the growth of the health market, especially in Europe, and ITI's possible future. It was at that point that the meeting was joined by two consultants from Hedgerton & Partners, some exclusive corporate advice company from the USA. They had a lot of facts and advice about the health market. By the end of the session it was apparent that the plan was going to be to grow ITI's position in Europe by opportunity, buying companies that seemed appropriate and available. But the core strategy would be in the USA, where corporate takeovers would be actively made to happen to a pre-determined strategy. It became obvious that the centre of any future health division would be in the USA. But the fact that I was there for this discussion made it clear that, at the right time, I would be part of that strategy.

When I got back to Bristol on Monday, it was all a bit of an anticlimax. I was bubbling with excitement at having been part of the Strategy Meeting, but I didn't have anyone to bubble to. I missed Molly, and I guess it showed.

By Wednesday, Carole had had enough, "Missing them then?"

I sighed, "I'm surprised at how much. I guess Molly and the boys and your soap opera have been the focus of my life for months now. And suddenly they're not there."

"Have you thought, we have a long weekend coming up, and they do still run flights to Majorca, and they even run them back again on Mondays, even bank holiday Mondays?"

"I can't just descend on them for three days. It'd knock their holiday routine completely out. I couldn't, could I?"

"I'll check flights." She said and was gone.

She was gone a long time, before she came back and said, "Do you know, there isn't one appointment in your diary for tomorrow or Friday and Tuesday that couldn't be cancelled or postponed? And, there's a flight to Majorca leaving at nine o'clock this evening with space on it."

"Bloody hell, Carole. How did you do that?"

"Easy, you just look up airline travel on the internet." She said with a silly smile.

"No. That you can clear my diary for this week and Tuesday. Are you sure? I can't imagine John Wheeler letting me off that sales trip on Tuesday afternoon."

Carole smiled, "I haven't worked here sixteen years without knowing where a few of the bodies are buried. Let's just say I called in a few favours."

"You'll have to tell me."

"I can't. That was the deal."

I smiled, that was logical I suppose. And then looked at her, "Do you think I can?"

She looked straight at me, "I know you can. But it's up to you whether you do or not." She paused, and leant forward over my desk, "You haven't had a day off since you got here. And not only have you had to learn a new job in a new company, but it's probably been the most turbulent period of your private life ever. Personally, I think six days R&R would do you the world of good."