The Way Bac

Part the last. Congratulations if you've persevered to the end. Thanks to all who have taken the trouble to comment. It has been most encouraging and good to know so many enjoyed it.

Once again apologies for typos. Family life is still preventing me from proof reading the third and final time before posting. It will be some time before I can post another tale.

FORTY-SIX

I did not sleep well that night. It was too warm. Most British homes do not have air-conditioning, our summers are simply not hot enough for long enough to merit the expense of buying them and running them. So I had the windows wide open trying to catch any breeze there might have been. It was dead calm and twenty Celsius overnight.

Eventually I got up and made some tea and drank it in the living area. It was getting light when I at last fell asleep on the sofa and so inevitably I overslept, to be awoken by the phone. It was nearly midday, and I was stiff and aching. The sun was bright and the temperature was rising still.

"Allan, where are you?" shouted my angry ex-wife, "We've had to go without you. D'you know where it is?"

"For-goodness-sake!" I groaned, "Less noise. I had a really bad night."

"Oh, sorry!" she said more quietly, "Are you up to coming?"

"Give me an hour. I'll be there."

I showered and found my swim-shorts and towel, just in case, and sun cream. I put on a loose shirt with a bright pattern and the lightest pair of slacks I could find, light socks and trainers. I drove, blessing our underground car park and the car's air conditioning.

David was right, it was too far from Stretford for me to use regularly, but the denizens of Altrincham, Hale and Bowden would find it very convenient; and these were areas where the big money was. I parked in the large car park and entered the reception area. I was not prepared for what came next.

Reception was air-conditioned. It was heaven, so cool. So was the girl behind the desk. I approached it and she looked up with a smile which immediately died on her face. I knew it was my face that revolted her.

"Yes?" she said, coolly, though not unpleasantly, but lacking the sort of welcome I would have thought essential in a receptionist.

"I'm here for the barbeque," I said, a little irked.

"You're not a member," she stated. Not a question; a statement.

I thought for a moment. Is the owner of a place a member of it? Probably not.

"No," I said.

"Members only," she said. "Sorry." She wasn't.

"I'm here to see my ex-wife and my children. She is a member."

The next question should have been her name, but it was not asked.

"I'm sorry, this party is for members and their families. Since you are no longer a family member, I'm afraid you can't be admitted."

"I think, my dear," I oozed as patronisingly as possible, "I can and will be admitted. Get the manager."

"I'm afraid he's busy with the barbeque. I could make an appointment for tomorrow if you'd like to apply to join."

"No. Get him now."

"Gary!" she shouted and a large fit twenty-something emerged from a door behind her.

"This gentleman," she said, and I didn't like the tone she used for 'gentleman', "Can't be admitted and he's refusing to leave."

Gary came round the desk with a certain amount of menace. "Time to go, pal, before you get hurt."

"Before you assault me," I barked, "Let me tell you, you are about to lose your jobs, the pair of you!"

Gary stopped for a moment, during which I took out my phone.

"David!" I said, "Send Martin to reception would you? Don't tell him anything just send him. I need to find something out."

Now the atmosphere changed. They looked puzzled. Then Martin arrived.

"Yes?" he said, looking at me. I knew the look, I'd seen it often, and recently on the face of the receptionist.

"These two are refusing me admittance. They have been cold and unwelcoming and impolite, and this man," I pointed at Gary, "has been threatening me."

"Well, sir," he began, "this party is for members only. You are not a member I take it?"

"No," I said.

"Well, I'm afraid..."

"I own the place."

The three looked at me for a moment, and then Martin began to laugh, and the others snorted along with him. At that moment, David came through the door from the party outside.

"Allan," he inquired, "What's going on?"

"You know him?" asked Martin.

"Oh yes, I know him. You've not been watching the news lately?"

Light dawned. "Oh, you're the man..."

"Yes." I said, and I must have looked annoyed.

"Well, I'm sorry about what happened to you," Martin said, "They got the blokes who did it though? But I'm sorry it's only for members today."

"My ex-wife and my children are in there, and I want to join them."

"Sorry..."

"Martin," said David, "You still don't get it, do you? This is Allan

Jonsson

. Ring any bells?"

There was a delightful moment when light dawned. It spread over his face, followed by a look of fear and worry, and yes, even horror.

"Oh, God!" he said.

"No, not exactly," I replied grimly. "Just the owner of this place.

Now

am I to be allowed to go in?"

"Oh... Yes... Of course!"

"I will need to have a long meeting with you about this place and about staff training. I never want any potential customers to be treated as these two have treated me."

The acute discomfort on the faces of the two employees was turning to dread. They knew their jobs were on the line.

"I'll sort that out. They're history," He was turning to them when I interrupted him.

"No, Martin, not yet. I'll interview them sometime next week."

He looked uncomfortable. They looked terrified. I liked that. I turned and went into the pool area. Hearing a babble of heated conversation behind me. I smiled, sometimes having an ugly face leads to fun.

There was quite a crowd round the pool and in the grassed area round it. There was a queue at the buffet table and another at the barbeque. The lads were in the queue for the barbeque. I looked round and there was Greta with another girl I thought I recognised, talking and clearly flirting with four or five teenage lads. She was wearing a light sundress which covered her modesty, under which was a white bikini, vaguely visible when the dress pressed against her body.

I looked round further and there on a lounger, on the grass under a tree, was Ann. There was another lounger next to it, and perched upon it a handsome looking man about our age. He was dressed only in swimming shorts and was engaging Ann in conversation. He, she and I all knew he was attempting to seduce her, and she was showing him just as clearly as she might that she was not interested. I did not know him.

Ann was wearing a sundress very similar to Greta's. Under it was a black one-piece swimsuit. She hadn't seen me, so I stood and watched to see what would happen. The dress was short, and the whole of her thighs were on view. He took this as an invitation and put a hand on her thigh. The reaction was instantaneous and decisive. She removed his hand and gave him an earful. He went off and joined the queue for the barbeque. I could see him watching her.

I approached and she saw me. She blushed. I knew she wondered what I'd seen.

"Yon gent a little too frisky?" I asked. She looked relieved and nodded.

"Allan," she said. "Do me a favour. Put your hand on my thigh, then move it up nearer to my crotch."

"Why, madam," I jested. "We've hardly been introduced."

"Shut up and do it," she commanded. I obeyed.

I could see him bristle out of the corner of my eye, but Ann was looking directly at him with a smile.

"That'll teach him," she said, then looked at my hand, which had remained where it was. "You can take your hand away now, if you want to."

"Why should I want to?" I said with as much seriousness as I could muster, but I took it away, and we joined the buffet queue.

We returned to the loungers and ate our lunch. After we finished, she got us both drinks; me a beer and she a diet coke, and lay back. I did the same. We were side by side.

"I've been waiting a long time," she implored, "for you to tell me what you discovered when you thought about what has happened. Please, Allan, tell me."

"Well," I said. "I believe completely what you say about your relationship with Derek. I know you are true and loyal. Moreover, I'm a lot more inclined to believe what you said about Derek. Partly because of your knowledge of him, but more because the field of possible assassins has opened up."

"What d'you mean?"

"I went to see Stephanie as you know. It was something she said. I didn't twig until David made a remark to Viv after dinner. He said they had a joint account and she knew the password, why did he have to do it every time."

"I don't follow."

"Stephanie said Derek was useless at the accounts side of the business. She did it all. That's why I asked Derek about passwords. He hadn't changed them, can you believe that, Ann? He doesn't know how to! Remember?"

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, I could tell her mind was working. "I didn't believe it when he said it. So Stephanie could have moved the money to pay the men?"

"Could have. It opens a possibility."

"But, why should she want you dead? You weren't involved in my so called adultery with Derek?"

I admired her honesty and acuity. Instead of harping on about Stephanie's proposed guilt, she put the objections. Yes, Ann was totally honest and truthful.

She was continuing, "So, it doesn't mean she did anything, only that she could have."

"Ann, You told me to go and re-evaluate the evidence, and this is what has come up."

"But it brings us back to the question, why try to kill you? If you had died, eventually Derek and I would have married and he would have more money than Stephanie Fanshaw could dream about."

"Again, you're right. Just what Colin said when I told him last night. No motive. Now do you see why I'm constantly conflicted about Derek? I don't know him as well as you do."

She thought, and nodded.

"OK," she said. "I can stop thinking you're being unreasonable. I do understand you need answers and you're only looking for the truth."

A pause, then she said, "I fancy a swim; I'm really hot, even under this tree."

"You're really hot wherever you are," I rejoined without thinking.

She started and looked at me. "You've never made a single remark about my body since you came back. Why now?"

"I was with Trish or Jenny," I replied, thinking on my feet, even though I was lying down, "I've always thought you were beautiful. Who wouldn't? That bloke did!"

"Then why?"

"I was with someone else. I try to be faithful to the woman I'm with, and there are other issues, as you know. The fact that I'm inhibited from making a play for you because of what's happened, doesn't mean I don't find you attractive, especially in a short sundress and black high-leg swimsuit!"

"So -- you coming in the pool?"

"I don't think so," I said, tempting as it was in the heat of the afternoon, "I swim better in private."

"Oh, come on Allan," she cajoled, "I don't want to be groped by some of the slime balls in there. You've come to my rescue once. Come and protect me in the water."

"I don't think so," I said doggedly.

"Please!"

"OK," I snapped, "You asked for it. This is why I don't want to swim." I pulled off my shirt and dropped my trousers.

There was noise all over the complex, people shouting, boys and girls playing, loud talking, but there was a deathly silence from next to me. It seemed to form a bubble round us.

When I looked at her, she was weeping silently, the tears running down her cheeks. Eventually she spoke haltingly.

"Oh, Allan, my darling, I didn't think! Oh, how horrible! How you must have suffered all those months, and I was hating you all the time instead of being there for you." Her sobs redoubled.

"I always think," I said, with a certain detachment, "it's better for me to swim in private. I don't want to spoil people's day, having to look at this."

"Allan, my love," she sighed, "bugger them! Come and swim with me, now!"

She lifted off her sundress, and I was mesmerised. She was truly beautiful. Her shape, her skin, her long legs, looking all the longer for the high-cut style of the suit. Perhaps I fell in love with her again at that moment. I certainly started lusting after her.

I went with her to the pool. It caused something of a stir, though my scars were much less livid than they had been before. We swam up and down the pool together, and though everyone else was larking about, no one came near us!

We got more food and drinks, and as the afternoon turned into evening, our children came back to us. Greta brought a tall lanky lad with kind eyes to us.

"Mum, Dad," she said shyly, "this is Tim, my boyfriend,"

He looked terrified, and I could see Ann looking him up and own with some hostility.

"Pleased to meet you, Tim," I said, nudging Ann.

"Oh yes," she said, "Hi, Tim."

"Mr Jonsson," said Tim, "Greta never stops talking about you," (here he got an elbow in the ribs from Greta, which he ignored), "I'd like to say that I think your struggle back to health is nothing short of heroic."

Wow! An articulate lad, with all the right words!

"Why, thank you," I replied, smiling broadly. "But I really had no choice. With your gift for flattery, I can see why Greta worships you!"

I have never, I am sure, before or since, got a look from Greta so hostile and at the same time grateful, as I did then. Tim did not last long as her boyfriend, but the lad she's with at the moment has the gift of the gab as well. He works for me in sales.

I saw Jan begin to open his mouth in singsong tones, "Greta's got a--"

"Jan!" I snapped, cutting off his mockery of his sister. I later explained to him that mocking his sister was totally OK, indeed advisable, but not in front of a guest, as Tim was at that time.

No matter, everyone laughed, except Greta of course.

Soon it was time to go home.

"Allan," Ann tugged my arm. "Please will you come tomorrow to the house? All the children are going out. Come in the morning and stay for the day. I've got something for you."

"Sounds ominous," I said.

"I think you need this. Trust me? It won't hurt and might help."

I nodded and drove off.

------

FORTY-SEVEN

Sunday was a complete change from the previous day. The wind had veered to the north and a front had brought heavy rain, which beat on the windows of the flat. I had some toast for breakfast and then set off for the house. It wasn't exactly cold in the rain, but it wasn't warm either. Not pleasant.

I entered the house. It was very quiet, so I knew the children had gone. Ann appeared. She was wearing a blouse with a scooped neck giving a delicious hint of her breasts, and a shortish pleated skirt. No stockings or tights, but a pair of open sandals. She kissed my cheek and I kissed hers and she led me into the living room where there was a pot of coffee, mugs and milk.

I noticed there were photo albums on the coffee table and a couple of VCR tapes. Ann was pouring the coffee and saw me eyeing it all.

"Laura said she'd seen you and she asked me why I hadn't helped you with your memories of our life together, and I had to say we've both been too busy. But she was right. So I thought we could go through the photo's and see what you remember."

She sat by me, her skirt rising high along her thighs (oh, God, her thighs!) and picked up an album.

"I've sorted the photo's into albums in chronological order, I did it when you first disappeared. I don't know why I carried on because the photo's were agony to look at. Perhaps I hoped that by looking back you would return to me and all would be well again. But here you are, the earliest time in the life of Allan Jonsson."

So there began a journey through my life. The first album had pictures of my mother and father, both of whom I recognised, though I had to be told that the baby and the boy was me. There were school photo's, holiday snaps and Christmas photo's. She told me who the people were when I couldn't remember them, but I was surprised by the number whose names came back to me unaided.

Then there were teenage parties, school trips, photo's of me larking about with friends whom neither Ann nor I could recognise. There were a few with girls hanging on my arm or sitting on my knee at parties. We didn't know them either. We laughed about them, Ann telling me they had good taste.

There were photo's from university, groups in the union, I recognised Geoff as a young man hiking. Photo's of Summer Balls with, it seemed, different girls. I found I knew some of their names and remembered what we did together, though I did not always tell Ann what it was we did! Then some of graduation with my proud parents.

"You know," said Ann, as we broke for lunch, a salad she'd made earlier, "Ordinary people, people like me, we don't remember everything or everyone, or even most of the things that happen in our lives. It's just that we know roughly what happened. All we remember are the special times, when we were especially happy or embarrassed or sad or when something special happened. The rest is gone."

"Yes," I agreed. "It's just that in my case I don't even know all those special times. Even with the photo's it's almost as if they happened to someone else."

"That's why we're doing this," she asserted, "We go through your life in pictures and you can keep coming back to them again and again."

I felt grateful she'd thought of this idea, and said so. She smiled and hugged my arm. The woman was growing on me.

Then we went back to the sofa. This time it was different. Wedding photo's or to be more precise courting, engagement and wedding photo's. Ann gave a commentary on the photo's and how the wedding went. She spoke with real fondness.

I found it interesting that while I had no memory of the event, each piece of information rang a bell and became clear. Then there followed photo's of our children as they grew, their little triumphs, school photo's and our holidays together. There were photo's of us all together laughing. Others of us romping on the floor of the house.

Ann commented on them, saying where they were taken and what was going on, but that was secondary to the emotional comfort and solidity it was giving me. I was getting more and more elated and it showed. By the time the photo's were finished I was buzzing with happiness.

"Now there's more," she said, "I compiled a video from our camcorder tape collection."

She put a DVD in the machine, and we sat and watched as the disc put life into the photo's we had already seen. There was plenty of footage of Ann and me, arm in arm or with our arms round each other. Some Christmas footage when the children were opening presents, and of Ann and I kissing on the sofa. It was fun to watch, but I began to get a little edgy. Did Ann choose all the hugging to exclusion of other stuff?

"Did you download all the hugs and kissing you found?" I asked smiling.

"Well, nearly all. We were in love you know."

"The tape?" I asked.

"Well," she said, rather hesitantly I thought, "It's a tape of our more private moments. It shows us being intimate, being in love. You don't have to watch it."

I had the feeling I was once more being set up, but against that, I wondered if it would show Ann and me as a relationship. I desperately wanted to know.

"Play it," I said.

"We agreed to record this in case one of us died, so we would remember how much we loved each other."

She played it.

The next hour was filled with pictured of us cooking together, sitting together, laughing together. The pictures became more and more sexually explicit. We had filmed ourselves necking on the sofa we were now sitting on, obviously having the camcorder on a tripod.