. 07

On the Saturday I went into the office for a few hours. Partly to work , but I took the opportunity to move into Perry's office. That way Monday morning would be a fresh start.

Other than that, Saturday was a day of chores, from shopping to housework. I did take some time out to go to the gym, I was really beginning to enjoy my sessions there. Afterwards I walked over to Symmonds & Burtons to see if Rose had an inventory of contents for Blindside. Really, I think I was hoping that I'd get a chance to talk things through with Rose, get her to help me see a way forward. Unfortunately, she wasn't there, although her colleague found the inventory I asked for.

Sunday was Phil and Denny's barbeque day. I was certain that Beth wouldn't be there. She wouldn't risk an embarrassing scene, and Denny would have told her that I fully intended to be there. I had been looking forward to it, the first social activity since Fateful Friday. I thought I needed to talk, laugh and joke with other people. I was so, so wrong. No sooner had I arrived than people were asking "Where's Beth?" I should have predicted that, but it came as a hurtful surprise. Mostly I answered with a neutral comment such as "She couldn't make it." A couple of times I tried "We're not seeing eye to eye at the moment" but that led to the knowing wink and "You mean she's back home swearing about you, and you're here enjoying yourself." I left early.

Monday I was in the office by eight o'clock. That meant I was quietly working in my office whilst everybody arrived. So, when I emerged, it was a surprise to everyone, and I could here the murmurs go round the office.

At about eleven o'clock my cell phone rang. The screen said 'Grge&Mary'. I answered it tentatively "Hello?"

"Hello, Tim. It's George here."

"Yes, George. What can I do for you?" I was still tentative.

"Well, I wanted to phone you and apologise. I think I owe you an apology."

"Why's that?"

"Well I have to admit that I had thought the worst of you. And I did rather tell you, for which I'm sorry. But yesterday, Beth told us what has been happening. I guess none of us really know or understand what goes on in other people's relationships, but it does seem as if Beth has rather been guilty of a lot. It must be bloody for you."

"It certainly hasn't been much fun." I said wryly.

"No, I don't suppose it has. Anyway, I thought I ought to say how sorry I was, how sorry we are, Mary is very upset."

"Thank you, George."

And that was it, really. Beth had told her parents. So, the ball was back in my court.

I went to get myself a coffee. Stella was dressed very smartly, and asked if I wouldn't mind if she could take a late lunch. I happily agreed. Dave was at the coffee machine, and he apologised for his Friday night call, he hoped he wasn't out of order. I assured him that somewhere in his poor befuddled mind there had been a kind thought, and he wasn't to worry. I went back to my office with my coffee, and stared into space for an hour wondering what to do next.

Then Charlie came in to ask if I'd chosen my new company car. Talking to him took up to lunchtime, which was good as I doubt whether I could have worked.

After lunch I picked up my desk phone to call Beth just as my cell phone rang. It was 'Grge&Mary' again. Maybe this was her, knowing that her father had phoned. I answered, but it was Mary.

"I know George phoned you this morning, but I know he won't say what really needs to be said. He's having some difficulty accepting what Beth had to say, he's offered every possible excuse for her, it's a fathers and daughters thing I guess."

"What happened, I know she was petrified to say anything?" I asked.

"Well she went to Church yesterday morning. It struck us as a bit odd, but she was so stressed we thought it might be a good idea, let her find some comfort wherever she can. But she didn't come back when we were expecting. We found out later that she had sat and talked to someone, not the proper vicar, just an assistant, for some time after the service. It must have helped her, as she came home and told us everything. Anyway, George and myself were about to sit down to lunch, having given up waiting for her, when she eventually came in. And she just came out with it. Well, you can imagine Tim. After lots of tears, and her father stomping round the garden for half an hour and quite a lot of shouting, I think we calmed down."

"Well I'm glad you're talking. I believe she'll need that."

"She needs more than talking to us, Tim. If you can find it in your heart, she needs to talk to you."

"Well, I promised I would. Tell her to phone me and we can set up a time and a place, 'though God knows what we can sensibly say to each other."

"I'll get her to phone you. And you can always meet here, George and myself will stay well out of your way. It would just be a place to meet that is private."

"I don't mind. See what Beth thinks."

I came into the office on the Tuesday to an email from Beth:

Dear Tim, Mummy says that you will meet me. Thank you. How about here at 19:30 tomorrow evening? All my love, Beth.

I replied that I would see her there.

I phoned Phil. He was taking a surgery, but the receptionist said she would get him to phone me back. He did so when I was out of the department, but Stella took the message, and I phoned him again, and we actually spoke. Yes, Denny and Beth were meeting this evening, and No, she wasn't going to report back to me on anything that was said, unless Beth asked her to do so.

There was not a lot to be said, or done, so I got on with work. Stella had dressed very smartly for her dental appointment in the afternoon. I purposely worked very late, it was better than thinking.

Wednesday at work was meeting after meeting as I began to take a firmer grip of the whole department, laying down my standards. There were a couple of heart to hearts with unhappy people who didn't like my standards, but that was to be expected. I left in good time to get to Beth's parents by seven thirty.

As I drove along, I wondered what the evening would hold. I was determined not to just try to hurt Beth with sharp retorts. She was right about that, it got us nowhere.

When I arrived, Mary said that Beth was in her room, probably still getting ready. George took me into his study, as friendly as he could be, he even gave me a glass of his favourite malt whisky from the decanter he kept in there with a brief "You could probably do with this" as he handed it too me. Then I heard Beth on the stairs, I went out into the hall.

Beth was just at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in my favourite dress, a simple silk summer dress in pink. I always said it made her look like the perfect English rose. Mary was standing at the kitchen door, looking apprehensive, but she was the first to break the silence, "Why don't you two use the sitting room. George will be in his study, and I'll be in the kitchen. We won't disturb you, but do call if you want some coffee or a drink."

I led the way into the sitting room and Beth followed me. I sat down in a big comfortable armchair, my whisky still in my hand. Beth sat on the front edge of the sofa, staring at her knees and twisting a handkerchief between her hands. I swallowed my whisky in one gulp. The silence continued.

I guessed it was probably up to me to say the first word, "I should congratulate you on telling your parents what's happened. It can't have been easy. I hope it's made things a bit more relaxed and easier for you."

She looked up. "It was horrid, but I think it has helped." she tried to smile, weakly.

Silence, followed by more silence.

"Look Beth, I don't know what we are meant to say, or even how to get us so that we can just talk. Would it help if I told you some of the things I'm having difficulty with?"

She looked at me. "Well, all I can think of is just to say how sorry I am, and I guess you know that."

"Well that's a start. Tell me what you're sorry for? Hurting me, or having the affair?"

"Both."

"Look, Beth. I really do think, however sorry you are, that you've blown it. You've thrown away what I thought was the most wonderful marriage. I don't think it matters how sorry you are, or whatever reason you had for doing what you did, there just isn't a way back for us."

"No, don't say that. Please Tim..." Her voice had an urgency, a panic, and was breaking with possible tears.

I went on, trying to ease the moment back to something more manageable, "Well, I'm happy to talk. I might find some understanding of what you did so that I can put it to rest, in my past, but that's me being a bit selfish. If you find that too painful, and would rather we just have a clean break, then say so. I'll thank you for the most wonderful ten years of my life, and I'll always regret that you chose to bring it to an end."

I wondered if I should stand up to go. She looked at me and realised that I was at some sort of breakpoint. "I don't understand why you are so committed to divorce. Surely you can only take that decision after we've talked, not before?"

I sat back. "Yes,... Well....Beth, I'll talk for as long as you want, but I think I'll end up in the same place."

Silence

I tried another tack, "Beth, I said I wanted a copper bottomed guarantee that you would tell me the whole truth about anything that I wanted to know, however painful to either of us. Do you want to give me that?"

"I'll try and do whatever you want, Tim. Anything that gives us a chance to get back together, however remote. But please don't ask me about Ken or why I did it. I don't want to even think about him, and certainly not talk about him. And I have no reasonable excuse for what I did. I'm just consumed with hate for myself, for the evil that overtook me, for what I've done to you."

"But, Beth. Surely you know why you did it? Something must have been going through your head at that time?" Now I was pleading, with my voice breaking.

"Don't you think I've asked myself that a thousand times. Lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, and asking Why? Why? Why? But I can't give you a single valid reason. I have no excuse." she looked at me with tear-filled eyes.

Part of me wanted to take her in my arms and hold her, to let her know that maybe it didn't matter anyway. But I couldn't. There was a little voice in my head saying 'She means that she can't find the appropriate PR phrase to cover her failure, She's decided it's better to say nothing.' I needed a break, maybe another whisky. I got up and walked to the door. Then I realised what that would look like to Beth.

"Don't worry. I was just hoping your father might be a bit more generous with his whisky. Can I get you something?"

"No, nothing." she visibly relaxed.

I went out it the hall. Obviously Mary heard me moving and was there in a moment. I told her I was just after another whisky. She took my glass and went into George's study, only to come out a minute later with a refreshed glass.

I went back into the sitting room, making some light comment about how she had made me turn to booze. Beth looked concerned, and I assured her that it wasn't true. I realised that, if anything, considering the circumstances, I was drinking less than usual. I told her that I was having to learn to iron shirts again.

That led to a few minutes conversation about how we were living since the split. Nothing surprising in either of our lives. In turn, that led to Beth asking if I still intended to move into 'that' flat. She said it with bitterness.

"I expect so, but I haven't taken the final decision. Make my mind up time is in about a week."

"It seems so final, you leaving all we ever had." she sounded sad.

"Well, it isn't of my choosing." she winced "Oh I don't mean that as a dig at you Beth. But I didn't go looking for it, the flat that is, it came to me. And when I saw it I knew it would be the fresh start I need, not because I'm walking away from you, but because I can't stand living in the house. It's too depressing, I don't want to be reminded at every moment just what I've lost. Everything I touch, everything I look at is a reminder. Sorry, Beth. It just hurts too much."

She sort of smiled reassuringly, "I can understand that. You hate all those reminders. I would love them, I'd cling to them."

"Well, once I've moved out, why don't you move back in? I guess that if it is divorce we will have to sell it, but you might as well live there 'til then. It's probably better that someone is there rather than leaving it empty. I guess we will have to sort out who's paying for what at some stage."

"Don't worry about that. Daddy's promised to pay for anything that gets to be a bit of a problem. And, yes, maybe I will move back. I can't live here forever, they'll drive me mad." She looked sad at the prospect of living alone.

"I'm only moving out because I don't like living there, I'm not running out on whatever we want to do. But, if I am going to move out, we need a traditional splitting-of- the-CD-collection meeting. Could you come over one evening and agree as to what I'll take?"

"You just take whatever you want. I won't argue. And anyway, even if some of the CD's are mine, you were the only one to play them. I never touched the hi-fi, I never thought of it."

"Well, I'd still like you to come over one evening. I'll call you and arrange it, once I'm committed to the flat.."

We fell to silence again. This time it was Beth who had the new thought, "Maybe we could talk about what our future might be, either now or when we meet next. I do want a chance to show you, to prove to you, that we can recapture what we had. I know it won't be the same, but it can be as good as we choose to make it."

"I don't see the point, Beth." I answered "You won't talk about why it all went wrong. I can't see how you can ever make me feel secure again. It would always be like living with a ticking time bomb, adultery may break out at any second."

"I know you feel like that now. But give me a chance, maybe I can convince you that I'll never, ever do such a thing again. I'm beginning to think that I'll never have another man in my life at all if it isn't you, Tim."

I sighed. This was getting us nowhere. Smart retorts wouldn't get us anywhere either.

We talked on for another half an hour. But we gained nothing from it. Eventually I decided that I might as well go home. "I'm sorry Beth, but we're getting nowhere here. You won't talk about what I think we need to talk about, and I don't see the point in talking about the future, or not until we've understood the past. I think I'll just go home."

"Oh. Can't we keep talking, please Tim. It's just so good that you are here, talking. For as long as we are talking I can believe there is some hope."

"Well, we can go on talking if you want. But I think we need to put our thinking caps on about how we can talk about things without getting into this impasse. Just for tonight, I think I'll call it a day. Call me when you can see a way of talking about the what's and why's of Ken and what you did."

I walked out into the hall. Mary was there in an instant, and the George opened his study door. Both looked at me. Beth remained in the sitting room, I think she was weeping. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, telling George and Mary all they needed to know. I let myself out of the front door.

I stopped on the way home, I just pulled into the side of the road. I sat and cried. That was the end. There was a useless finality in our conversation. She didn't understand me. She refused to see that I needed to hear the story of her affair with Ken. She didn't see why I knew that this was the end, no marriage could get over the sort of affair she's had, no amount of talking, of goodwill or anything else would get us beyond that insurmountable block. Maybe being married to me never meant as much to her as I felt about our partnership. Eventually, I drove myself the rest of the way home.

At home I poured another large whisky, just not as good a quality. I phoned Phil. I think he could sense my distress, he offered to come over. But there was no point in that. As a compromise, he invited me over to dinner the next night. I eventually let him go to bed. I went to my own bed and cried some more.

It surprised me that I could work as well as I did on the next day. I suspect Dave knew there was something going on, but everyone else probably didn't notice.

I turned up at Denny's and Phil's in the evening, with a bottle of wine in hand. We talked, Denny told me that Beth was really hopeful on Tuesday night that she was going to be able to make a breakthrough when we met. She must be as disappointed as I am. Denny questioned me a lot about why I thought it was the end, why was I so determined that I couldn't go back. It seemed so obvious that I didn't know how to explain it.

Halfway through the evening my cell phone went off. It was a London number I didn't recognise. It turned out to be Jean. She was coming down at the weekend, and invited me to lunch at the Carlton Hotel on Sunday. There was no real reason not to accept, and it might be comforting to talk to my opposite number in this tragedy. I accepted and rang off and looked up. Phil and Denny were looking at me.

"That was Jean." I explained.

"Oh, good, I'm glad Jean's phoned you." said Phil, with heavy irony. "Who the hell is Jean?"

---

Friday in the office wasn't too bad, and it did have its good moments. Stella came in to see me and tell me that she was going to resign.

"I'm sorry Tim to be leaving you just when you got to this job. We've known each other for so long, and I was really looking forward to helping you in your new position. But I've been headhunted, completely out of the blue, and the money was is so good I can't afford to turn it down."

How could she even get the words passed her lips? But then I wasn't much better, assuring her how we would all miss her, and she must stay in touch.

After work I went to the gym, but undid my good work by going to the pub afterwards. Many colleagues had left by then, but Don McIntyre was there, and he was pleased to buy me a drink. Apparently I was his hero for salvaging ITP. I pointed out that the project hadn't been under my stewardship for long enough to really cock it up yet, but that I was working on it.

Alice came in, even later for the Friday night drink than I'd been. I bought her a drink as a start to my apology for deserting her so suddenly at the pizza restaurant. She asked how that evening went. I told her that I thought I'd done quite well on that evening, thanks to her calming ability to send me in with proper resolve. But, it had all gone pear shaped since then. She squeezed my arm and told me that breaking up is a bloody business. I looked into her eyes, they were kind eyes and told me that she understood. I wondered what was in her past.

So, I suggested to Alice that she might like another pizza. I didn't feel like the full Italian that I know I'd promised her. She traded that for a Chinese instead. So, after another drink we set out for the better of the two Chinese restaurants in the town.

Although I had invited her because I was interested what her history was, I never got into that conversation. I bored her with a longer account of my split with Beth, but she feigned sufficient interest for me to keep talking, and I felt better for that. Other than that, we talked about work, it was the first time we'd seen each other since my promotion.

I wasn't too late home after the Chinese with Alice, and I came in to find a message from Rose inviting me to a light lunch at her house on the Saturday. Well it was a bit late to phone her, so that would have to wait until the morning.

On the Saturday morning I did phone Rose, Charlie answered, and he wasn't phased by my late acceptance of their invite. He wasn't going to be there, he was playing golf, but he was sure Rose would be pleased to see me. I was looking forward to seeing her.