Chapter 3

Life was now empty. Six months ago it was full of absolutes, the love I bore for Gill, the love she had for me, the wonderful vista of our life together, stretching far into the future, the planning of a family. All these were gone except one, the love I had for Gill. Despite what had happened, despite my divorcing her, I still had love for her. Why? Why could I not take a knife and cut it out of me, like a surgeon would cut out a growth. Perhaps it was because we had grown together, from the age of seventeen until now. Eleven years we had, thinking together, planning together and talking together, always talking. I knew Gill as I knew myself, and she knew me. That was why when I asked her if she had sex with Berryman, she told the truth. I would have known if she lied. I knew Gill. Lying would have been the ultimate disrespect, and she would not have done that. Perhaps that said something, that she still had some regard for me. I don't know, and that is the essence of my problem. I don't know what I did wrong, I don't know why she was intimate with this man, I don't know why she couldn't tell me what was wrong in our relationship. I don't know why she went straight to him. There was so much I didn't understand, about her actions, and equally about mine. But I still loved her, I cried.

I had recovered from the trauma of these events sufficiently to be able to work well. The evidence of that was an invitation to lunch with one of the partners of a company affilated with AGH. Alex Wellman had been in the States for some time, and understood their attitude towards advertising. He had brought this knowledge back to the UK and set up this agency, Wellman Goff and Co. Who the Goff was, no one knew. I arrived at the Penns Hall Hotel, where he was staying and where our lunch appointment was. I told reception I was there, and they paged him.

"Andy." He approached me with a smile and a hand outstretched to shake mine. "It's great to see you. Come on in, we'll have a drink before lunch."

"Thank you Mr. Wellman."

"Hey, none of that Mr. Wellman, call me Alex." We had drinks at the bar, and then went in for a superb lunch. Our talk was casual until we got to coffee.

"Andy, I know about your personal problem, but I hope that is behind you now." I acknowledged that it was. "Good. We like your work. Some of the copy you have come up with is sensational. Hits hard, but in a very subtle way. Fantastic. Now we want you to take the next step, and join us in London, working on national schemes. There's going to be a change coming in TV advertising, we are looking at making a series, that plugs the product, but draws the viewers in because there is a story being told. In effect we will be making a drama that will entertain as well as sell. So we will need the best dialogue, written by the best writer we have, and Andy, that's you. What do you think?" My mind was tumbling over the possibilities, an opportunity, a chance. Not because of the work, my thoughts were about getting away from Birmingham and the memories, starting afresh some where else. The job was secondary.

"I like the idea, Alex. Is this a firm offer?"

"Yes, Andy. We want you there. You get a great rise, London weighting allowance, and we will pay all your legal costs for the move. What do you say?"

"Sounds good. What salary am I looking at?" He got out a piece of paper, and wrote down a figure, then showed it to me. I was shocked for a moment it was a lot!

"Did you put the comma in the wrong place?" I asked cheekily. Alex laughed.

"That, Andy is exactly why we want you. That throwaway remark that asks a question, yet contains humour, and says in one second what others would need a minute for. Yes, the comma is in the right place. Do a good job for us, and I will move the comma the right way for you." He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?" I took his hand and shook.