Chapter 1

The story starts on 23rd September 1989

"Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes," the Vicar droned on. I know I should have been listening, but I wasn't. I was lost in my own thoughts.

I was standing at the graveside of my wife, Margaret. At 35, I was now a widower after being married for almost 6 years. My daughter, Janice, nearly 4, stood beside me without any idea what was going on.

My parents and Margaret's parents had helped arranged the funeral. Apart from my eulogy, I had really had just been a bystander; not from choice, I just felt paralysed. I didn't know what was expected of me.

The wake was held at our house, and somehow or other I got through it. When the mourners had gone only my parents were left. Margaret's parents had to return home to Scotland because they were struggling to run a hotel just outside Oban. Duncan had taken a redundancy package from his job as an accountant at the shipyard in Glasgow. They had ploughed their savings and his redundancy money into the hotel but it wasn't going well.

I was sitting in my office, playing around with my computer. It was a state of the art system, with an 80486 processor, one of the first such models available in the UK.

Janice wandered in and came up to my desk. In a very solemn voice she said "Mummy isn't coming back is she? I know, I heard Gran and Gramps talking." This was the wake up call I needed. I sat Janice on my knee and explained as best I could that a bad man had been drinking and crashed his car into Mummy's car, and she was badly hurt and had gone to heaven. She cried, I cried, and I took her to her room and settled her into bed.

I decided I needed to have a talk with my Dad. He was always the practical one. Mum was brilliant, don't get me wrong, but I knew that she'd pfaff about and try to soften the blow. I needed to hear it like it was.

I found Dad sitting with Mum in the living room. I asked him if he would come to my office. Mum looked expectant, but I said "It's business stuff" and she said, "OK I'll go and check on Janice in a bit, and start clearing up here." There were still empty glasses and plates in odd corners from the wake.

Dad sat down in my office and looked at me expectantly. I said "Dad, I need a plan to see me through." He knew what I wanted; to be told what to do, not in some overbearing way but to help me get through the next few months.

We sat at my desk to develop a plan. Dad didn't understand computers; and he wouldn't use one for this job. He would write a list with a good old fashioned pen and a pad.

The first heading he wrote was 'Janice' and then he said, "You are going to have to get a full time nanny. There is no way you can manage a business and look after a small child."

I protested but he insisted, "I know you don't like it, but think of it this way. If you have a nanny/housekeeper the drudge jobs are sorted for you. The time you have with Janice is quality time, not time spent trying to be a housewife."

"OK Dad, you're right again."

So under Janice went 'Find Nanny/Housekeeper'. Then he said "Juliet (my Mum) is 63 this year. She can look after Janice short term but there is no way she can cope indefinitely with a youngster full time. That operation she had earlier in the year set her back more than she admits."

He then added 'Live in' to the list. Again I pulled a face but he said "What happens when you have to be away overnight on business?" I saw his point, so I didn't say anything this time.

He then put 'School' under 'Janice' and said "I know Margaret wanted Janice to go to the primary school in the village but St Mary's the independent school will be far more flexible. As a single dad you may need that. Also, Janice is going to miss her Mum, so I think the small classes and the one-to-one that they offer will help; better than being in a class with 30 others." I nodded and he wrote 'Contact St Mary's for a place next September.'

We carried on like this for about 3 hours. It was harrowing, recognising the impacts of Margaret's death on our lives, but Dad seemed to have given things some thought. When I considered the various points I could see that almost all of his suggestions were sensible.

We had several headings when we had finished. When we got to 'Business' he pointed out that 140 people depended on me for their livelihood. I would be failing them if I couldn't get my life back onto some sort of even keel.

When we got to 'Housekeeping' he pointed out that a nanny could only do so much and suggested that I should employ a cleaner to spread the load.

We then got to 'Duncan and Janet' and he said, "They are going to fall flat on their face with this Hotel venture. Don't pour your money into it because it will become a bottomless pit if you do. If, as I expect, they do go belly up by all means set them up with a home and a bit of a nest egg, with conditions. I know you won't miss the money, but the hotel thing is doomed. I know Duncan hasn't got his heart in it, so best to let it fold quietly and then step in to help."

He then added a topic which surprised me, 'Revenge'. He said, "Revenge is a dish best served cold. At the moment you are angry. A good way to channel that is some limited revenge. Don't listen to the do-gooders who tell you otherwise." I asked what he had in mind. He carried on, "It depends. The courts will probably give him a slapped wrist and tell him not to do it again, unless he ends up being charged with manslaughter, which is doubtful. We can talk about this again but, whatever you do, don't discuss it with your Mother."

It was now nearly 10pm. Mum came in and asked how we were getting on. Dad said, "I think Charles has a better idea of what he needs to do." Dad then ran through his list with the pair of us. Mum raised her eyebrows a few times but he was able to convince Mum that his plan was for the best, using the same arguments he used on me. In the end she agreed. She then turned to me and said to me, "It's your life he's rearranging. Are you OK with it?"

I said "Every point he's made is sensible. I don't feel able to make decisions yet, so I am going along with Dad's ideas"

I went to bed, and tossed and turned for ages before falling into a disturbed sleep. In my sleep I dreamt about Margaret and Dad and they were arguing as they had on more than one occasion. Margaret stopped suddenly and said. "Why am I arguing? Janice is more important." She then went up to Dad and gave him a hug. It was a weird dream, really vivid, and it stayed with me after I woke the next morning.

I got up at 7am and in spite the disturbed night I felt OK. I went downstairs, made breakfast, and got Janice up. By this time Mum and Dad were up. I said that I was going into the office this morning and would be back at lunchtime. Dad's response was typical, "Good lad. Show them you are still in charge." I felt I needed to make an appearance at work to reassure the staff that the business wouldn't suffer but I needed to take the afternoon off because I intended to make a start on the new domestic arrangements.

I arrived at the office just before 9am. Everyone was a bit surprised to see me and seemed to be walking on eggshells round me. However, within the hour I had slotted back into my old routine and had got updates from all my senior managers. I told everyone I would be back to normal hours from Monday, so no shirking.

I got home at lunchtime and immediately placed an advert in the local paper for a cleaner/home help and another in the 'Lady' magazine for a live in nanny. I then decided to tidy the bedroom Margaret and I had shared. It was hard to deal with Margaret's things, but worse to look at them every day. I didn't want to erase all signs of Margaret but, for example, seeing her dirty knickers at the bottom of the laundry basket every day was disturbing. So I spent a difficult hour and then called Mum into the bedroom. I told what I had done and she had a look round. She thought I had got it right, not erasing the memory but getting rid of some the obvious stuff.

The next milestone was about a week later, the ad coming out for the cleaner/home help. I ended up getting well over twenty applications which I quickly whittled down to three. I soon decided on employing a woman in her mid to late fifties, Ethel Skinner, who had just taken early retirement from being a school teacher. At first I thought she was over qualified but she said she was lonely because her husband had died last year. She wanted something to occupy herself and she only lived five minutes walk away in the village of Tarvin. I told her she could start straight away and we agreed that she would start by working three days a week, for about six hours each day, and we would see how that went. Mum agreed to show her the ropes and told me later that Ethel only applied for the job because she had been bored since her retirement.

The advert for the nanny came out a week later, and again I had a lot of replies. They were from all over the country as the position was live in. Again, I short-listed three, with Mum and Dad's help. This was far more important than the cleaner so I arranged for the 3 we selected to attend for an interview. We decided that Janice should be around but we didn't tell Janice what was going on.

In the end we decided on employing a recently divorced woman as the nanny. She had been a nanny before she was married and came with good references. Her name was Susan Croft and she was 31, the same age as Margaret was when she was killed.

She started work on Monday of the following week which was just as well as Mum was looking quite tired. It was the fact that she could start immediately that swayed us to employ her. Mum was not well again. I think the strain of Margaret's death and then looking after Janice most days had taken its toll.

Mum and Dad went back to their house in Chester on the Wednesday and I started to fall into a routine. Ethel was a treasure. She took on the whole running of the house, cleaning etc. I was so impressed with her work that I raised her pay after a month, which pleased her no end. Susan was more of an enigma. She had bonded well with Janice and certainly made sure my time with Janice was quality time, but I didn't take to her.

The next problem was my sex drive. Margaret and I had enjoyed a varied and active sex life. Unless I was away on business we still made love most evenings and she was always as horny as I, so once the immediate pain went I needed some female company. Just before Xmas Susan had obviously read the signs and thought she could become the next Mrs. Hammings.

One night I had gone to bed early. At about 10.30pm I heard the bedroom open and I caught the outline of Susan coming into to the room. I assumed something was wrong with Janice and turned to put the light on. As I did so Susan started to climb into bed with me. I asked, "What are you doing?" and she replied, "I am going to shag your brains out".

With the light on and Susan naked, I got a good eye full. She was certainly attractive. Her brown hair was cut into a bob, which framed an attractive face. She had a pair of perky boobs, not big, but well defined and she was shaved between her legs which was unusual in the UK 20 years ago. In spite of myself my dick was hardening. She immediately scooted down the bed and started to suck me. I tried to move her into a 69 but she either didn't know what I wanted or didn't want me to suck her. Her sucking was OK but it was like a blow job off a pro, not one off a lover. I was hard though and after a few minutes she got on her back and opened her legs. I got on top and started to fuck her. She was wet but seemed disinterested, like it was a means to an end. It was three months since I last had sex and I came quickly.

I know she didn't have an orgasm, even although she tried to fake one. I tried to kiss and snuggle up to her. I intended to go again, thinking that maybe she would get more into it but she just got up and went to the toilet, "to clean up" as she put it. When she came out she put her nightgown on and went back to her bedroom. After she left I went to sleep quickly.

When I awoke the next morning I immediately thought about what had happened, and I regretted it. It was definitely a case of 'Little head overruling Big Head'. Susan came down a few minutes later with Janice and I couldn't say anything. I would have an opportunity to talk to Susan a little bit later because Janice was now at nursery school for 2 hours, twice a week. I decided to talk to Susan when she returned from dropping Janice at nursery.

Ethel Skinner turned out to be my saviour. She arrived while Susan was taking Janice to the nursery and before I left for the office. I decided to be blunt with her. I was extremely embarrassed to discuss my sex life and it took some guts but I knew she talked to Susan a lot.

I went into the kitchen and said, "I need to talk to you about Susan."

Ethel turned and gave me a smile and said, "Why? What's been going on?"

I paused for a minute and then said, "Does Susan have feelings for me?"

Ethel replied, "I really don't know. I do know that she would like to be the next Mrs. Hammings but I think that may be different from having feelings for you. Why do ask?"

I wasn't sure what to say at this point; I sat there looking blank. Eventually Ethel said, "She came to your bed last night, didn't she? I knew it. I knew she was planning something."

"Yes, she did."

Ethel then asked, "Well?", and I was silent again for a bit. I just sat at the kitchen table, staring into space. Ethel came over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. She said, "Look, I lost my husband last year so I know how you must feel. We had a healthy sex life until the day he died. If you and Margaret were the same you must be missing that now. So if an attractive woman comes to your bed you are going to do what comes naturally and then regret it later. I am sorry to say that I think that's what Susan was hoping for. Not so much the regretting it, but the rest, hoping she could then worm her way in. I may now be speaking out of turn but I think she realises you are a rich man and she is a gold digger. I believe that once she has what she wants she will withdraw sex, or make it unpleasant."

I was surprised at her candour and I was also concerned, because I had to consider what was best for Janice as well. I thought again and Ethel stood beside me with her hand on my shoulder. Finally I confessed, "I don't know what to do."

Ethel replied quickly, "I think you should tell her that last night was a mistake. Tell her you don't feel ready to get involved with anyone yet and put the onus back on her. Say that if she doesn't feel able to continue to work here that is fine, you understand, and will give her 2 month's money and a good reference. After all, it may be a cheap escape."