Chapter 8

People like to talk. I had developed the skill of getting people to talk. Putting the two together, I was able to gather a reasonable picture of Diane's actions, but not her reasons.

By joining the gym, I came into regular contact with Peter. I intended to make Peter uncomfortable. Observing his routine in the gym was a surprise. Peter was very good at his job and treated all his clients in a very proficient manner. Talking with other users, I discovered that all the trainers had a reputation for maintaining a professional distance between themselves and their clients. Not only that, but the gym staff ensured that any predatory behaviour was quickly dealt with. Their reputation was that women could use the facilities in safety and comfort. This even extended to the car park, which was well lit and comprehensively covered by CCTV.

What I did learn though was that Diane had initiated the relationship. She had not been flagrant in her flirting, but the other women had picked up on the signals, even though the men didn't. There had been no activity around the gym so I couldn't establish where the affair had been consummated. Nevertheless that point was moot. Diane had made it quite clear that he was being replaced and the result was the divorce.

For his part, Peter was unfazed by my presence, to the extent that he even welcomed me on our first encounter. He was professional enough to give me advice on the use of the equipment and exercises appropriate to help improve the mobility and balance of my arms. Peter even asked me for advice on how to help improve the relationship between the children and their mother and him. He was clearly interested in the children's well-being. Despite myself I started to warm to him. In fact, I had to admit that, had Peter been one of my staff, I would have every confidence in him.

This rather changed the complexion of my plan. Peter had, to some extent, shown me that my primary concern had to be to resolve the children's anxieties, and uncertainties. Much to my chagrin, I was also persuaded that Peter did, in fact, love Diane. That, I found hardest to bear. Whilst the flame of my own love for her was dying, I had a feeling that the embers would glow for a very long time. That self knowledge only added to my current pain.

I was now ashamed of the ignobility of my initial desire for a grand revenge on both Diane and Peter. I was embarrassed with myself for making Peter a target for reprisal. Clearly, Peter was as innocent of any wrong doing, just as were Jack, Harry and Georgie. Laying all the blame on Diane, however, meant that somewhere along the line I had misjudged his wife and the nature of our marriage. It made me question everything about the past fifteen or so years. Revenge, however, can come in many ways.

Diane was due to collect the children to take them to the house in Devon for the weekend. Since I would have the weekend free, I had arranged to play golf with David and then have a night on the town. I collected the kids from school and found David waiting for me when I arrived home. Harry and Georgie rushed into the house to change and collect their back-packs for the week-end. I lifted my clubs and was loading them into David's car when Diane drove up. She got out of her car in high dudgeon and stormed over to me.

"BASTARD!" she screamed, and caught me with a full blooded slap across the face as I straightened from loading the clubs. She was about to hit me again when I pushed her away. She stumbled backwards and landed heavily on her rump. Peter had just got out of the car and moved to restrain her.

"You bastard, you did that deliberately!" she screamed again. By this time the children had appeared with their bags.

I ruefully rubbed my cheek wondering what I was supposed to have done. I looked at Diane, who was trying to break free from Peter. Then I looked quizzically at Peter.

"I was stopped by the police because my brake light was out. You bastard!" she shrieked.

"That's hardly my fault." I said.

"It's not that and you know it, you fucker!"

"Sorry Diane, you've lost me."

"They checked the car tax and it was out of date!" her rant continued, "then they asked for the MOT certificate and my insurance and they were both out of date too!"

"Oh dear. And that's my fault how?" I have to admit I was unable to control the small smile that played over my face as I realised what had happened.