Chapter Ten
After her abortive meeting with John, Carol drove fifty yards along the road and stopped the car. Then she allowed herself to cry. She had held it all back as he coldly destroyed her hopes and dreams. She had misunderstood him when he asked for proof of her story.
She thought he meant that if she could prove that she was taken in by Liam and her brothers, he would take her in his arms and everything would be fine again, but he merely wanted her to be clear what really happened, and to prove conclusively his innocence to her.
She had never felt so rejected, and by the man she knew she loved as no other. She felt the full weight of her guilt at the way she had treated him. How could she win him back? Did she deserve to try? She despaired, feeling powerless to get back to him.
Then she realised this was how he must have felt, as he desperately tried to reach her to find out what he had done, and he had suffered for three long years. How stupid she'd been to deny him any chance to explain himself! Looking back she did not understand why she had behaved that way.
She thought back to the four years they had had together. All she could remember was his utter devotion to her. How single minded he had been in doing everything he could for her; all those little things she tended to take for granted. Why hadn't she seen all that when she so easily dismissed and divorced him? Why didn't she see the disparity between his consistent behaviour at home and the story of his serial philandering?
She wiped her eyes and re-started the car, driving to Susan's house.
She completed her tale of woe, and Susan had listened with attention and a certain amount of sympathy.
"I know I've been a fool, and I know I've ruined both our lives," Carol continued, "but I want him back Sue. I just can't think how. He said I've got to change the way he feels. How can I do that?"
"You can't, Carol," Sue replied. "He's being unreasonable; it's his anger and resentment talking. You can't change how he feels, only he can do that."
"So that's us finished then," Carol's shoulders slumped in defeat and sadness.
"No!" Susan countered. "Don't be so defeatist. You don't need to change his feelings of resentment. You just need to follow your
own
agenda to get him back."
"I don't understand."
"Don't you remember?" Sue said, her eyes sparkling. "Think back to when we were sixteen! You're sixteen, you fancy a lad at school. What do you do?"
"I don't-"
"Think! What did you do when you fancied Connor Fanshaw?"
Carol thought, then remembered. "Oh, I see what you mean!" She grinned at her friend for the first time since she arrived.
"Good," said Susan. "Do it again. We have to contrive for you to keep meeting him, keep you in his mind. So how?"
They cast about for answers.
"Pubs!" said Susan. "We need to know which pubs he goes to. We could 'happen' to be there."
"Parties!" said Carol. "He could be invited to parties that we are at."
"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Susan. "You'e got something there. Why is he unlikely to be invited to parties?"
There was a long silence as Susan looked expectantly at a puzzled Carol. Then realisation dawned.
"See?" said Susan.
Carol saw. She did not like the prospect, but it had to be done, and anyway he deserved it, and she deserved the humiliation. So they began planning.
--
On Monday, work took on a new intensity for John. London wanted some new developments handled. He couldn't grumble: they were his own suggestions for improvement!
It was quite time-consuming in addition to reorganising the coordination of the work of various departments, liaising with various customers and holding regular meetings with departmental managers. Then there were the regular visits to the London Office to discuss progress, and all while he was still trying to find his feet and getting to know the staff.
His days were long and even at weekends he was catching up on work. After three weeks of this, late on a Saturday evening while he was consulting trade figures, he got a phone call.
"Tom here, John. Ann thinks you're working too hard. Come for Sunday dinner. Have a break."
John rubbed his eyes and sat back in his office chair.
"Very kind of you both," he said. "Ann, as usual, is absolutely right. I'd love to come."
As he put the phone down, he realised that as MD he was in a lonely position. He doubted whether any of his staff would attempt to socialise with him, for fear of seeming to try to get more influence with him. Tom was a friend from way back and did not care.
John was grateful for Ann and Tom's intervention; he knew he had been burning the candle at both ends, and that such behaviour could not go on. He realised that Julie had been hinting as much, her most telling comment being 'life is for living you know; even your exciting job isn't life!' followed by a wry laugh.
He put all his work away, and resolved not to touch it until Monday morning. He left his study and went to the living room, poured himself a generous whisky and selected some loud Beethoven on the sound system. Immersed in the surround sound and inhaling the scent of the single malt, he relaxed and felt good.
Carol loved Beethoven; the thought crept in unannounced.
Carol. He felt guilty. He had not thought about her since she left the house weeks before. It was no excuse that he was buried in work every minute of every day, and was thinking of new strategies as he fell asleep each night. He felt guilty, true, but something else as well, a pang of regret and loss. Only now it came to him as he relaxed for the first time in so long.
He still resented her behaviour and the suffering it had caused him, and he knew he had punished her by setting her an impossible task. Had he made a fundamental mistake? He really knew the answer to that, but was reluctant to face it.
She had not contacted him at all in the past two weeks, and he wondered if he had finally put her off. He wondered further if that was what he had wanted all along, but now he felt empty. He sighed, and realised he did not know what he wanted.
His life at the moment was full of work, and there was a good deal of satisfaction in the success he was having in his new appointment, but he had seen no one socially and that was something he was not used to. Even in London when he was bereft of Carol, he had Tracy and her housemates, not just for sexual relief but for company and friendship.
He felt gratitude for Tom, or was it Ann, who had provoked this appraisal of his state. He realised he did not want to continue on that path and would reduce his hours and get some recreation.
He would join a gym and get some exercise; it was also a good way to meet like-minded people. Now he was top of the pile he could hardly ask any of the female staff at work for a date!
"It's tough at the top!" he said out loud and laughed. "Time for bed, you poor lonely bugger!"
Next morning after cooking bacon and egg, the poor lonely bugger chose two bottles of his best wine: one white, one red, and added a bottle of Lochinvar Malt. So armed he set off for Tom and Ann's house.
There were the usual comments of 'You shouldn't have!' in response to his gifts, to which he made his own response.
"The Whisky is for Tom to say thank you for helping me with the Carol business, and the wine, well, it's to thank you for prizing me out of my study. I really needed that."
"I should think so too," said Ann brightly. "We can't have you turning into a hermit."
So the meal and the afternoon and evening went very well, and John realised afresh how tense he had become, and how relaxed the day had made him.
The day was also notable for the lack of any mention of Carol, apart from his own comment when he arrived, and to which there was no response. John was silently grateful for that: he was too confused on the topic to discuss it.
However Ann did have an agenda.
"John," she said determinedly, "you need taking in hand or you'll work yourself into an early grave. You must visit us more often, and I'm prescribing a trip to the Griffin once a week with Tom, but strictly no business talk. How does that strike you?"
Tom vigorously nodded his assent.
"Good idea," said John, laughing. "I also had it in mind to join a gym: I really need to get in shape."
"Nothing wrong with your shape," flirted Ann shamelessly looking him up and down, "but it will keep you fit and stop you getting a paunch from all those business lunches."
