I got home just in time to watch the six thirty local news. I wanted to know what I was letting myself in for. I watched for the whole half hour, but didn't learn a lot, there was only one interview and that was with an innocent victim recorded on the Court steps having won her case.
I thought of phoning Molly about the boys, but I wasn't sure what to say, or what I would do if Peter answered. I knew I was letting my imagination get the better of me, and I felt guilty that I wasn't getting on with it for the boys' sake.
I poured myself a stiff whisky, but hardly took a sip before I picked up the phone. I had to look up their number in my diary, but I dialled it.
It rang and rang. Then an answerphone switched in, and I put my phone down. This was not the time to leave messages on answering machines. Instead I finished my whisky, and changed into some easier clothes and went out to find myself something to eat. By the time I got back I decided it was too late to make important phone calls, disturbing Molly's evening, but I knew that I was really just making excuses for myself.
As I walked in the next morning Carole greeted me with "Well, did you phone her?"
I felt guilty, "You know, yesterday I thought we were on track for a really good relationship. I'm beginning to revise my thinking...." And I smiled, I guess somewhat sheepishly.
"Well, do it today. For Jamie and Ben's sake."
I admired Carole's memory and sentiment. Their names were mentioned in passing yesterday, and they were real people to her today.
She handed me a sheaf of messages, and a couple of files. "Some things to do, and some things to read."
"Gee, thanks. I've got the BBC sometime this morning. I'll go down to PR and get myself briefed. By the way, I really ought to go down to Franks Engineering in Exeter, Stephen .... Stephen ...." I searched my memory for the General Manager's name.
"Stephen Hobbs." Carole reminded me. "When do you want to go?"
"The first free day I've got I guess, there's no reason why not. I suggest I come in here first thing, then go down there mid-morning and spend the rest of the day with them."
She looked in the diary, "You're talking about Monday. I'll give Stephen a call. But I warn you, Piers McBaine won't like it."
"What's it got to do with him?"
"You visiting Exeter before you visit the Abbey. I told you, he's a bit prickly about their status."
"Well, it's his hard luck. He could have picked Monday in my diary if he'd wanted. I don't do preferential treatment, or not yet anyway."
"He didn't want Monday because he knows that Peter Davies will be out of the office on Wednesday."
"Good for Peter Davies." I answered, and went off to PR No one controls my diary except me, and certainly not Peter Fucking Davies!
The rest of the day went quite well. After my interview, which they thought would be used that night, I went to lunch in the Cafeteria with a bunch from PR and Marketing. They were a talkative lot, and I began to really understand what I already suspected, that Henri Bauer ran a very stratified culture. He seemed to never, not even on Company social occasions, let alone in the normal course of work, have anything to do with junior staff. Whether that was just the way he worked, or whether he felt that he was superior in some way, I didn't know, but it needed putting right. I asked Carole to try and work out how I could take a random set of junior staff to lunch in the Buffet Dining Room once every couple of weeks.
I got home just in time to watch the local evening news. I wish I hadn't. Seeing oneself on television is embarrassing, even when there's no one else in the room. Afterwards, I took a shower just to relax myself. Then I realised I was likely to be late for Keith at the Golf Club. I was about to excuse myself from phoning Molly on the grounds that it would make me late, when I thought what Carole would say in the morning. I dialled the number.
Thank Goodness, it was her and not him that answered.
"Hello Molly, it's me, Chris."
I could feel a wave of coolness or at least hesitations come down the line. "I knew you were back in town. I was waiting for you to phone. But you could have done it before the boys saw you on the telly. They've just learnt that their father is back in Bristol from the television."
"Oh God! I'm sorry. Are they upset?"
Her voice became warmer, "No, they're thrilled. Their Dad was on the telly. I think they only saw the last couple of minutes, I guess one of them was flicking through the channels, probably looking for cartoons, and they caught you."
"I'd like to see you, to arrange that I can start seeing them on a regular basis."
"Well, I'm not going to try and stop you. When do you want to make it?"
"Well I'm running late now, but I want to talk to you about me seeing them quite often and quite regularly. Please."
"Chris, I've already said I won't stop you."
"Thank you. But I do think we ought to co-ordinate things. Would you like me to buy you dinner tomorrow night, if you're allowed out by yourself?"
"He's my husband."
"I'm well aware of that. But our children are ours, not his. Let's not argue. How about tomorrow evening?"
"OK. Where will you be? I'll come over after we've eaten and I've put the boys to bed. Say nine o'clock?"
"OK. My flat, or somewhere else?"
"Your flat will do."
So, I gave her my address and left it there, and set off for the Golf Club. All the way there I thought about how even talking to her made my blood boil, after four years the scars were still red raw. But I was also aware of how relieved I felt that I'd made the call, and how apprehensive I felt about tomorrow evening.
I found Keith in the bar. "Hi, Chris. What are you drinking?"
"I'm driving."
Keith looked untroubled, "So am I. But I have a rule of only one pint if I'm driving, and only two if I eat a good meal. I think that keeps me inside the law. This is a two pint night."
"I'm jealous of those people who have the discipline to keep to a strict no alcohol rule when driving." But then I smiled, "But you've convinced me, make it a pint, please."