Oxford's English dictionaries define fiction as "something that is invented or untrue." So please do not tell me 'It would not happen like that'. Because you are right. It probably would not. This is fiction, so do not complain it is not real. If you want realism, please go watch a documentary or the news.
Dictionaries also tell me there are several meanings for the word fantasy. This is the one I have used. 'The faculty or activity of imagining impossible or improbable things.'
This is part of my confrontation series, which often involves intervention, but what event is being intervened in this story?
The woman sitting next to me was stunning. A real trophy wife, but behind that beauty was a razor-sharp mind that ran several businesses. She told me she did something in Parliament. I had not seen her on telly, I was not much into national politics, I restricted myself to my local constituency. The one that could make a difference where I lived. She looked strange to how I usually saw her when I met her before, her signature long blond wavy hair was in a ponytail. She was in disguise.
She reached across the table, took my hand, smiled that dazzling smile I had got used to and said. "Don't worry Dave, it will soon be over."
"I know Penny, I know."
Penny had approached me a few weeks ago and told me her private investigators, Mitchell and Butler had dug into the antics of her husband and his activities.
Her husband is part of a company that arranges buyouts. And for the past year or so she felt he's been using underhand tactics to arrange a lower price, some tactics should they come to light that would not look good for her. So, she had him followed. She suspected he had done the dirty deed with other women to get information, but had no proof.
The Investigators found out that his usual antics included offering the workforce more money and better prospects elsewhere, so the victim would have to increase their pay to retain his people, a few tip offs to the HSE about unsafe 'Incidents' whether true or not and that was it, the business was ripe for plucking at a stupidly low price.
One trick he was most proud of, was he got the taps opened on an on-site diesel tank and then had someone drive into the bund designed to hold a tank leak. Nearly a thousand gallons of diesel leaked out contaminating the ground so it could not be used for domestic housing without a massive expensive decontamination.
The land was sold at a huge loss. The company was in financial trouble and was brought up for a pittance with the loss of almost seventy odd jobs.
Sitting there Penny asked. "We know all his usual attempts failed with you, so he went after your wife. Your workforce is very loyal to you. You must tell me how you do it?"
"It's simple, I get my hands dirty with them, I listen to them and I share their problems. The odd beer never goes a miss either."
We looked across the dance floor and saw them dancing together. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her head on his shoulder, they were just shuffling. The music was not loud, the place was dark and very discreet.
The woman looked good, almost as good as the one sitting next to me.
I said to Penny. "Now?"
She nodded, we stood up and she picked up two envelopes from the table.
I headed towards them. Penny walked behind me. As I got closer to them he saw me coming, a flash of recognition crossed his face. Why would a single man walk across a crowded dance floor heading directly towards them? Fortunately, the music was not too loud. As I reached him, I said. "Darren, may I cut in?"
My wife recognised my voice. She spun around, a look of horror on her face, that was when Penny, the man's wife, the one with the two envelopes appeared by my side.
She had shaken her hair out and was instantly recognisable.
My wife fainted. I caught hold of her. I would hate to get that lovely dress dirty. Someone must have paid a packet for it. It was not me. "You have tried my wife, I think I will try yours if she agrees." I said to him.
Penny looked at me, smiled and slapped me gently on the arm. "We will have to wait until we're both divorced, but I look forward to it." That was never going to happen but it wiped the grin off of his face.
Penny reached forward and took hold of her husband's left hand, lifted it up. "No wedding ring I see, but I see your date is still wearing one, I wonder for how much longer?"
My wife's stirred, she looked at me and said, "Sweetheart it's not what you think, we were just dancing."
Penny opened one of the envelopes and extracted a photograph. "Oh, you might be dancing now but I wouldn't call this dancing."
She showed them the picture that her investigators had taken of them last week in an office. They were not dancing. Penny extracted another photograph and showed it to them. It was a picture of her husband with his hand up my wife's dress, her head was thrown back in pleasure. That was from last Wednesday outside the golf club.
"I wouldn't call that dancing either, but I can understand your pleasure, he's very good with his fingers, especially the one that should have his wedding ring on. I just hope you haven't tried anything else."
Penny gave her husband the other envelope and said to him, "Darren, just sign the papers. There's a reminder of the prenuptial agreement in there and my lawyer's contact details."
A crowd had gathered, the phone cameras were out. The music had stopped, he'd been humiliated by his wife. He was angry. Very angry.
Good.
My sobbing wife was standing on her own two feet by now. Penny and I turned to walk away.
I was expecting it, I felt the hand on my shoulder, he wouldn't be so stupid as to hit me in the back with all the cameras around. He pulled me round, the punch came. I swayed back but there was somebody behind me and the punch caught me on the side of the face. But there was no strength in it.
I'm guessing it was gym strength. Whereas mine was building site strength. I run my own construction business, and I found out early on that staying in contact with the lads doing the work was really good for business. So at least one day a week I went to a building site. I poured concrete, I hodded bricks, I laid bricks. I did almost everything my lads did, come rain or shine. My hands were calloused. And it was a callused fist that caught him in the stomach. He doubled over and started wrenching.
Penny and I carried on walking towards the door. The place was in complete silence. There were two bouncers trying to head our way. But Penny's minders had something to say about that.
We got to the door and my wife was hanging on my arm. "Please, please don't leave me, I can explain. Please give me a chance. Nothing has happened."
We were in the foyer and could see Penny's Rose coloured Rolls Royce out front. Her chauffeur was holding the door open for her.
My crying wife said to me, "I didn't do anything wrong."
My new friend leaned around me, her Scottish accent flaring again. "Yes, you did! You lied to your husband, you touched a man where only his wife, me, should touch. You let my husband touch you in places only your husband should touch. You wore dresses for him that you do not wear for your husband. You betrayed him and his company."
That brought my wife up sharp. You see, my wife was the company secretary and finance officer. She knew everything about my business.
"Did you tell my husband about Dave's new contract?"
