Chapter 2

All right, as I sat and languished in my jail cell over the following few months I had to admit that there were some things that didn't make much sense to me. More a collection of unanswered questions than anything else; that I knew I'd have to know the answers to sometime.

The first thing that didn't make much sense to me, was why had Jeanne's friend Elaine Peters stood in the dock that day and claimed that it had been she wearing that little red dress and who had enjoyed a liaison with the French git? Elaine Peters was married and I was sure that there was no way her husband would stand for her messing around with the bugger. Christ Jerry Peters was also a bit of an arrogant bastard, fancying his chances with the ladies himself on the quiet. I was sure that Elaine's appearance in that courtroom would pretty soon lead to a divorce.

Anyway if that had really been the case and that the French git had been with Elaine. Then that didn't kinda fit with the second question, which was going around in my head, why had the French git never sued me for damages? Actually I kinda gathered from what I'd overheard a couple of police officers saying, that he'd been rather keen on dropping the assault charges in the first place.

But I'd done far to good a job on the bugger for the police to let that happen; I'd have been charged with, or without the git's cooperation. Apparently without his appearance in the witness box, I might have got away with claiming that he had been the aggressor in the first place; there was no sound on that bloody recording and he did have the reputation of being a bit of a hot head.

Anyway he hadn't been able to play for the rest of the season, so he could have sued me for loss of bonuses, besides punitive damages. But he had done neither; he had disappeared back to France as soon as he could. Now that don't make much sense whichever way you look at it.

Unless of course -- as I was certain was really the case -- it had been my wife that the bugger had laid that day. God knows how long the affair had been going on; perhaps he was scared it would all come out in the wash and he'd look like an even bigger arsehole than he actually is. Look, -- like I'd discovered my boss was -- only arseholes go shagging other women outside their marriage and/or women who are married.

I pondered on those two questions for weeks, before I realised that I needed to know the answers. The only way I was going to get those answers was from someone on the outside, but I had stupidly pushed all my old friends away. Well they (or their wives and girlfriends) had all been pretty thick with Jeannie, so maybe that hadn't been such a silly move on my part.

I could have got my solicitor to hire a private detective of course. But the expense would have shown up on our bank accounts and Jeannie would surely have figured out that something was up. I had no intention of using any of the money in my personal account. I would probably need that when I finally got out.

Ah, I can see you are wondering why Jeannie and I still theoretically had a joint bank account. Well the answer is, had I made any changes along those lines then Jeannie might very well have gone for a divorce or legal separation. That would give her the opportunity to demand alimony and maintenance for the child, to come from my share of the family assets. Okay there was over fifty grand in the joint accounts. But there was another one hundred grand in my personal savings. There was no way I wanted Jeannie to be able to get her hands on that until I was out and could take the necessary precautions. The odds were that Jeannie didn't know exactly how much was in my personal savings anyway.

Anyway after a lot of thought I came up with the idea of contacting an old school friend, Barry Lord. Barry and I had been as thick as thieves all through our school days, well for as early as I can remember actually. Our friendship only came to an end when, after much pressure from Barry, I'd deigned to date his sister Vivienne for a while. Vivienne -- who was ... is a very pretty girl -- had been somewhat infatuated with me for some time and had kept pestering her brother until he asked me to take her out on a date.

Now I really did like Vivienne and would have loved to have asked her out, if she hadn't been Barry's sister. Right from the beginning I was sure that the adventure was going to be a mistake. I must admit that I probably enjoyed Vivienne's company more than any other girl I took out in my teenage years. But we were young, Vivienne was only fourteen where Barry and I were fifteen, coming on sixteen I think. Anyway as I said Vivienne was somewhat infatuated with me, as was her younger twelve or thirteen-year-old sister Carol. The trouble was Vivienne was in rather a hurry to loose her virginity, preferably to me I gathered.

Now, illegal or not, had Vivienne been anyone else's sister, I most likely would have acquiesced to her advances. But Barry was my best mate and well ... mates don't do that to each other, or rather to each other's sisters, do they?

Eventually Vivienne got all-uppity that I wouldn't commit (Vivienne's word for the act) myself to her and we acrimoniously broke up. Actually this might sound pretty unbelievable for a teenage boy to say to his girlfriend, but I told her that if she didn't stop pestering me to take her cherry I would break if off with her. Vivienne didn't let it go and I was forced to do what I threatened I'd do.

Now the awkward thing was, I couldn't exactly explain to Barry why I'd ditched his sister and ... well maybe more than a little misinterpretation and misassumption went on. I know that somewhere along the line, Vivienne and my motives must have got reversed; Barry and I very quickly drifted apart.

Well I couldn't really blame Barry, what happened between Vivienne and I was the complete reversal of what causes a lot of break-ups in teenage romances.

Anyway some years later, after Barry had joined the army, I'd run into him in one of the local pubs and he told me that eventually Vivienne had told him the real reason we separated. Poor Barry was full of apologies and had said that if ever I needed him I was to give him a call. Then he'd been shipped out to the gulf or somewhere and I hadn't seen the bugger since.

Anyway in my desperation for answers, I figured that Barry Lord was going to be my best bet. Assuming that he was still alive that was.

I can't say that the reception I received from Barry's mother when I telephoned from the prison was all that enthusiastic. But then, I doubted that Vivienne had let her mother into the secret of our break-up, so I couldn't blame the old girl, could I?

Anyway she must have passed the message on to Barry because the following week brought me three visitors, Barry, Vivienne and Carol. They told me all about watching the case on the TV and in the newspapers, and wondering whether they should come to visit me in prison.

Then I told them about why I'd contacted Barry and what I was hoping he'd do.

I'd fallen on my feet by getting in touch with the Lord's. All three were keen on assisting me right from the beginning. What's more, both Vivienne and Carol were by then working in my bank and whether by coincidence or design, had been keeping a wary eye on Jeannie and my bank accounts.

"Jean took half the money from your joint account within weeks of you being convicted." Carol explained. "She opened a new account in her own name and has her salary deposited in there every month now. There has been no movements on the joint account except for your legal eagles cheques. And of course, the little interest payments the bank makes every month."

"What about the Council tax on the house?" I asked.

"Paid from Jeanie's new account, the same as the electric and gas direct debits. All the services are being paid from her new account, I believe." Vivienne answered that one.

"My, you have been snooping?" I suggested.

"Of course, just because I messed up that doesn't mean I still don't care for you Jim!" Vivienne replied.

"Or me!" Carol added. "We were protecting your assets Jim. If Jean had tried anything funny we would have got in touch with your solicitor so that he could stop her."

"But at the moment Jeannie appears to be being very ... fair, with your bank accounts at least." Vivienne.

"I wonder why?"

"Probably she wants you back. I can't say I blame her!" Vivienne again. "Look Jim, if it doesn't work out between you. Is there any chance... ?"

"Vivienne you are married!"

"I was, he had the same kind of morals that French geezer has."

"I'm sorry."

Don't be, I'm better off without the bugger. Shit my solicitor took him to the cleaners. You know I've got a little one don't you?"

"Word gets around Vivienne."

"Yeah shame you aren't her dad?"

"Funny that could never happen anyway Viv, I fire blanks."

"Oh my god and Jeannie's ... My god no wonder ... We couldn't quite make out why you were so sure that you couldn't be the father."

"You do realise that you could have had both of us and neither would have..."

"Jesus Carol, you were both far too young. What do you take Jimmy for a bloody paedophile or something?" Barry interjected.

"No Barry, Jim was young as well." Carol insisted. "Viv and I used to lie in bed at night and fantasize to each other about what our first time would be like with him."

"I really wish you had taken my cherry Jim, nothing could have been worse than..." Vivienne stopped speaking then cleared her throat. "Well that's all in the past. Now what else did you want our help with, Jim."

"Well two things really. I know it's asking a lot, but I can't figure out why Elaine Peters stood up in court and claimed that the French git had been shagging her that afternoon. She was married and surely Jerry Peters would have gone bonkers. It would have made more sense to me if Joan Turby, or whatever her name is, had said she'd shagged the bugger. Joan is divorced already, because she's a loose morale'd bitch.

"Secondly and this is really asking something, so I doubt you'll find the answer to it. Why the hell did that French git not bother suing me for damages. Christ it killed the season for him."

"And the bloody team." Barry butted in. "But I think I might be able to answer that one for you, easier than you'd think Jim. Word went round that he'd been laying a couple of the other players wives or girlfriends and they'd found out about it. Or rather they did shortly after you worked the bugger over. They'd have killed the bugger, if he hadn't done a runner back to France."

"But he could have sued me from France."

"Look Jim certain players have made it known that Great Briton ain't a healthy place for him to be. You know he had a police escort all the time he was over here for your trial don't you?"

I shook my head

"Well he did! You remember that nut Biggles Turner from school?"

I shook my head again.

"Well he's a copper now and he was tasked with babysitting the bugger during your trial. He reckoned the guy couldn't wait to get out of the country again. And he was picked for the French national team a while back. But he went sick when they had a friendly to play against England at Wembley. He did the same when they were supposed to play Wales in Cardiff as well."

"Ooh er, he's got himself into a right little pickle ain't he? I suppose that could be the reason he hasn't sued me. I kind a had it figured that he might at least been thinking that if he had sued me then he'd have looked a right arse ... Er well you know, the newspapers would have a field day if it came out that he had a long affair with Jeannie. It might of even given me grounds for an appeal or something. You know, he'd lied on oath in court, or extreme provocation or something.

"Anyway it's been bugging me just as much as the Elaine Peters thing."

"We'll certainly see what we can find out Jimmy. In the mean time at least one of us will come to see you every time they will let us, so keep your nose clean." Barry said with a smile.

"We can assume that you don't want Jeannie to know we've been here, can't we?" Vivienne said as they got up to leave.

"Quite definitely!" I replied.

The next few weeks passed very slowly, as they do when you're in prison. Regular letters that I never read turned up from Jeannie, I just tore the buggers into tiny pieces and tossed them into the nearest handy bin. Much to the amazement of the other inmates.

"Surely you're curious about what she finds to say in her letters?" My cellmate asked me one day.

"No, not in the slightest. Look she didn't find it necessary to tell me before she did it, that she was going to let that French git shag her. Why should I care what bullshit she has to say now? I was head over heels in love with the bitch and if I let her get her foot in the door, she might even bust the thing right open again. Then how am I going to be able to look myself in the face every morning, knowing that there's some French wanker's sprog sleeping in the next room?"

"Had you that bad did she?"

"Yeah, I'd have moved heaven and earth for the bitch."

"And you're convinced the kid ain't yours?"

"That's what everyone asks. Take it from me, it ain't come from my loins, that I can guarantee. Or rather, several very expensive doctors will guarantee."

"Oh shit, sorry mate."

"That's life my friend, and we can do very little about it."

Telling the guy I fired blanks was possibly a mistake because the story went around the prison like wild fire. Not that I was particularly worried, but I found it a little embarrassing.

"Now this gets very interesting, Jimmy. This Jerry Peters guy was a real player by all accounts." Vivienne said as she dropped in to the chair opposite me in the visitor's room.

The advantage of the open prison I'd been sent to. A perk I believe for pleading guilty, having no previous convictions and behaving myself.