Hotel confrontation series.
Confrontation in the Restaurant. This was one of the first stories I wrote about two years ago. It just needed a bit of tidying up. As in a lot of my stories there are some true elements in here, but the story is fiction. I like happy endings so you may have to suspend reality at the end. Please just enjoy the journey.
You know how you recognise somebody by the way they walk? Well, I recognised the lady walking into the hotel, she walked and carried herself exactly like my wife, Karen. It was dark with just the lights from the hotel, you couldn't see clearly, but the way she carried herself made me think it was her.
It couldn't be her because she was at home, I had spoken to her last night on the phone and she didn't tell me she was going out anywhere, in fact this hotel was many miles from our home. I was completely bemused, the bloke she was with looked like Darren. He was our boss. We both worked for the same driving school company.
It couldn't be. Could it?
Something wasn't quite right here. I had just pulled into the car park at the hotel I was staying in tonight, there had been a scheduling change to the training programme, and I had changed hotels at the last minute. It was easy as we had an agreement with this hotel chain.
I had tried to phone home earlier and I got the answer phone, Karen's mobile went straight to answer phone. I phoned the offices and tried to phone Darren. I didn't get all the messages through because I got a phone call back from the office, it was all broken up. There's not a great deal of mobile phone signal around Salisbury Plain, but never mind I will just carry on.
I stopped the car and ran across to the hotel entrance and peered around the door. That was my wife and my boss, worst of all they both had small suitcases and he had his arm around her waist, much more familiar than a working relationship.
Fuck what was going on? They looked very familiar together, it certainly looked like they were having an affair. I sat down heavily on the steps of the hotel, and I wanted to throw up, I started breathing very deeply. What the fuck was going on and what do I do now? In actual fact it cleared up a lot of doubts I'd had over the last couple of months.
Now it all became clear. Changing the programme, the change in the schedules, the change in my job. I needed time to sit and think. I went back and parked the car properly. A car with driving instructor's 'L' plates on should drive and park responsibly.
I crept back up and made sure that reception was empty and then I approached the desk and booked in. I'd stayed here a few times. Kelly the deputy manager was on reception duty, we got on well. I'd done her a favour a couple of months ago. We chatted about the weather and stuff, then I asked who the previous couple were that booked in. I told her they looked familiar.
She told me it was a Mr and Mrs Smith. She tilted her head slightly as she said 'Smith' which indicated she didn't believe them. "I hope they're not near me, it sounds like they are going to be noisy tonight.
"Oh no." She said. "You're in 214. They are in 236, way down the corridor."
"So how often have they stayed here?" I asked.
"Is there something going on here?" Kelly asked.
"There may be. That looks like my boss but that's not his wife, I just want to get my facts straight before I say anything. Don't worry I won't mention the hotel or where I got the information from." I didn't mention that it was my wife he was with.
Kelly did some stuff on the computer and said, "I shouldn't tell you this, but they were here three months ago for a large symposium or something. They had separate rooms then. They've been back twice since then. I traced him because he uses the same credit card, I just had to check the last four numbers. It's a company credit card."
I needed time to think, so I went into the bar and bought a pint of beer, something I don't normally do as I'm driving in the morning. I took it to my room. I need to ponder how we got to this point. I think a little background could be needed here.
The driving school company I work for was based in Salisbury, we had the contract to teach young Army recruits how to drive cars, buses and trucks. Up until five months ago I used to teach in my local area around Salisbury covering the Garrison towns of Tidworth, Bulford and Larkhill, just north of Salisbury. Other chaps looked after other locations around the North and West of the Plain. Cyril looked after Lyneham to the north. Graham looked after the Warminster area. It was a brilliant job, meeting young people and seeing them grow up in the Army system, much like I had. Adolescence giving way to adulthood.
These locations are well spread apart around the edge of Salisbury Plain Training Area which is quite difficult to get across unless you have a main battle tank or a big truck.
Five months ago, Cyril retired, and a couple of months ago Graham fell off of a ladder putting himself out of action for several months, this left a hole across the northern part of the training area.
I had been asked to step in and take care of the northern training area for a couple of months whilst they recruited a replacement and Graham got better after his fall. There were other driving instructors but most of them were young with children and were not ex-military. You could form a better bond if you have a shared experience, and the training can go much better. So, I just knuckled down and got on with it. It won't be forever Darren told me.
Karen worked in the offices of our driving school arranging appointments, payments, accounting and the instructors' expenses. Including mine, so I was always very careful to make sure I was below the limit. It's not good to put your wife in the position of having to tell you off about spending too much money. When I looked at our bank balance every month to see how much she spent, the irony struck me every time.
Darren wasn't a good looking sex god, he was a bit plain and a bit overweight. What were they both doing here? Or as my mind was coming round to it, had this been arranged between the two of them so I will be away and they can have an affair. I would have to find out.
I would need proof to take to Darren's wife, Sheila. She worked in our Salisbury office too but did not come in that often. I had to protect my job. The children were still in University.
I thought about our life together. Our sex life had always been good before the children came along, we tried pretty much everything. Spanking, vibrators, sexy clothing. Money was a bit tight, it took us months to save up for her first pair of thigh length boots. She still has them, they still fit and she still wears them. Things we liked we did again. Those things that we didn't like, we didn't do again. Things took a bit of a dive when the children came along as would be expected. But it had picked up again after they went to college, well apart from the last couple of months I'd been looking after the Northern sector. I was away three days a week and knackered when I got home on Friday.
So, why was she here with Darren?
I had come up with a plan. It wasn't a definite plan. It would depend on their responses. It was more of a set of guidelines for confronting cheaters. I went down to have some dinner, not that I was particularly hungry.
I went down early and had a chat with the Maître-d'.
I asked him where Mr and Mrs Smith were going to be sitting because I could have embarrassed myself earlier and didn't want to be in their eye line.
I had been in that restaurant quite a few times and got on with the staff. Often the Maître-d' gave me a choice of where I sat, he pointed out where Mr and Mrs Smith were going to sit. I chose where I could watch them but hopefully not be seen. There are good things to be said about aspidistras.
The Maître-d' told me they were going to be in at seven, I set up my laptop, so it looked like I was working.
They came in, his arm around her waist, which grated on me quite a bit. They sat themselves down, I waited until they had ordered and I summoned the Maître-d. I asked him to deliver on my account a bottle of Mosel wine. I knew it was on the wine list, and I knew it was one of her favourites. I asked him not to tell them where it came from.
