I sat in the car wash on my way home on that Thursday, and it's funny how little things spark a response. As I watched the swirling brushes coming up the front of my car and onward over the windscreen, I thought the chaos of brush strokes and bubbles that they brought with them were so like my own thoughts about Molly and Peter, and that conversation with Piers McBaine.
For the ten thousandth time in the last four years I went over the events of the fateful weeks of the death of my marriage. And for the ten thousandth time I came to the conclusion that Molly hadn't given me a single scrap of evidence that she loved me. She was obsessed by Peter.
So, the only possible explanation of Peter's reported view that she was in love with me must be a simple mistake on his part, or paranoia as I had suggested. For a moment I did wonder if in some domestic argument, or even the argument and discussions that must have followed him discovering me in his bed, whether Molly had hurled a little gem that she still loved me. Not because it was true, but because she wanted to hurt her opponent in an argument. But Molly never argued like that with me, she was always gentle and persuasive rather than angry and hurtful. And if it was an emotional argument, then she would be tearful and accept more blame for the problem than was really fair, and would normally just plead for it to put behind us.
I could only assume that Peter was just saying she loved me, so as to excuse himself from the blame of a failing marriage.
These thoughts and ideas went around and around in my head, but I was at Susan and Ralph's house at ten o'clock Good Friday morning to pick up the boys. It was Molly who opened the door. She looked strained and tired, but she smiled and called the boys.
As they passed us on the way to the car, she asked what I planned for the day, "I thought we'd drive down to Taunton and pick up the steam railway to Minehead. We can easily find lunch there, or buy a picnic and sit on the beach to eat it."
She looked wistful, "That sounds nice. They'll enjoy that."
We paused, looking at each other. I was conscious that the boys were sitting in the car waiting, and there was no time to say some of the things I thought I ought to say. I was just choosing my words to say something brief when Molly spoke, "I think Jamie and Ben have been looking forward to a break, they need it."
I smiled, "I think that's all I can do is give them a break. But I am sorry to hear about you and Peter. You had such great hopes...."
She shrugged and smiled weakly, "Not really. But it is a bit of a mess..."
We were about to drift into a conversation that I was very uncertain about. But I was certain that this was not the time for it. "The boys are waiting for me." And I turned and left.
On the drive down to Taunton, which I'd estimated was going to take about three quarters of an hour, and looked like it was going to be quicker than that, the boys started arguing in the back seats. I wondered if they were showing signs of stress from the situation they lived amongst. But I told them off, gently.
"It's your fault, Dad."
"What is?"
"Well, these back seats are too tight. Why couldn't you have a decent car, with big seats?"
"A Jaguar XK isn't a decent car?"
"Well it's alright if you want to impress your friends, or girls..." There were giggles in the back seat.
".... But not so good for long journeys if you have to sit in the back?" I finished it for them. "Well, don't tell your Mother, or Grandpa Ralph or Nanny Susan, but I think Jamie, you are big enough to sit in the front coming home. And that'll give you all the back seats to yourself, Ben. How's that?"
That led to Jamie goading Ben that he was big enough to sit in the front and Ben was still relegated to the back. I realised this was very unusual, they normally worked as a team. They were so close, far closer than I had ever been to my brother Brian. I guess that closeness was a result of what they'd been through. And I guess the current argument was the result of the stress they were currently going through.
Later we were admiring the steam trains as we waited for the next one for Minehead, and the argument in the car seemed long forgotten. Jamie turned to Ben, "Do you remember when Nanny Davies took us on the steam train, Ben?" and I realised that my sons had had four years of life of which I knew very little about.
So I asked, "Did you see a lot of Nanny Davies? Was she a nice lady?"
Jamie looked at me quizzically, "She was alright. She always bought us sweets. And she made jolly good cakes. They were even better than Nanny Susan's, but Mummy said we must never tell her that."
"No you shouldn't. Susan is very proud of her cakes."
"And she died and left Mummy and Peter lots of money."
"Ben, when people die you don't worry about how much money they leave you in their wills."
"But it's why we have the house we live in. Are we going to have to move in with you, Daddy? You haven't got a bedroom for us."
"I don't know, Ben. But I do promise that you and Mummy will always have a home. But maybe Mummy and Peter will sell the house you live in at the moment."
"Peter lives in the gym ..... and our room." Ben didn't look pleased that Peter had commandeered their playroom.
I smiled, "Well, I hope you cleaned the blackboard before he moved in."
Ben looked at me, obviously seeing no reason for my observation, so I added, "Elsie?"
Suddenly Ben looked worried and looked at his brother. Jamie smiled, "It's alright. I cleaned it before he saw it."
But then Jamie looked at me with a very questioning look. Before I could explain a train steamed into our platform and the boys watched, fascinated.
As we boarded the train I did think that maybe I could use the fact that I knew about their Elsie jibe as a way to restart some conversation about the state of Molly and Peter's marriage. But Jamie seemed to forget the incident, and they quickly relaxed into simply enjoying themselves. In fact the whole day became a happy break from the stress of our other lives for all three of us.
The train ride to Minehead takes over an hour, and my biggest problem was stopping Jamie and Ben sticking their heads out of the windows, or making a general nuisance of themselves with other passengers. But once we got to Minehead, I let them lose some of their energy down on the beach, throwing pebbles into the water. And I am very pleased to say that I could beat both of them with skimming pebbles on the water.
Then we went into town, and chose a great place for lunch. Afterwards I worked off some of their new found energy by insisting we walk right along the seafront to the little harbour, but there wasn't a lot going on there as the tide was out.
After walking back to the town, and refreshing ourselves with ice cream, we caught the train back one stop up the line to the pretty village of Dunster. There I seemed to spend my time trying to get some sense of history into them as we toured the castle. I failed. So, to cheer myself up, I took them into a truly old-fashioned teashop and bought us all a traditional cream tea.
