Back to Bristol Ch. 13

I smiled, "Equally, it might make them sick. But it would be different. See if you can find it."

She turned to go and I called her back, "And can you find out what's happening at the football on Saturday. If it's possible, I'd like to take the boys. And while we're talking about Saturday, I'll move to my new flat in the morning. Could you check that everybody knows, and that it's OK. Please."

She smiled, "Can I go now?"

I smiled, "You'd better, before I think of some real work for you to do. That would interfere with you organising my private life."

Half an hour later she was back with my second cup of coffee. "You are welcome to take your sons to football on Saturday, but Sales are a bit concerned. There's plenty of room, but John Wheeler and Peter Barnes are using it to entertain Sir George Havers and a couple of his guys from Oxfordshire Health, and they aren't sure it will give a good impression with young boys running around."

I looked at her and wracked my brains, "I've met George Havers.....Yes, on the day Helene came. I had lunch with him, I don't remember a lot of it, my mind was elsewhere, but I do remember him raving about his grandchildren. Get him on the phone for me, would you?"

Two minutes later I was being put through to Sir George.

"George Havers."

"George, it's Chris Bennett at ITI Franks. I understand that we're entertaining you at the football on Saturday."

"Yes. Will you be there?"

"I hope so, but I was wondering if you could do me a big favour...."

"Like what?" He asked suspiciously.

"Well, I've sort of promised my two boys to take them to the football, and my sales people are a bit worried about not wanting a seven and nine year old running around. I was wondering if I could convince you to bring your grandchildren?"

It went quiet for a moment, then I heard a rumbling chuckle, "I don't know, Mr Bennett, you want me to make myself the best grandfather in the world, just because it suits you for me to do so, and we don't even do business. And what is more you seem to think that my poor son and his wife would like to be without their three sons on Saturday afternoon. And we both know how much parents hate the idea of having some private time to themselves. Well, if I must I must, I suppose."

I laughed, "Thank you so much. You get me out of an awkward situation. And tell your guys that if they want to bring some off-spring, then just tell them to get in touch with John Wheeler, just to make sure we've got space and can feed them all."

After I put the phone down I called Carole back. "No problem. George Havers is bringing his three grandsons. And there might be a couple of other requests for children. Can you let John know, and tell him that both he and Peter are welcome to bring young guests. It will seal a relationship with Oxfordshire Health ten times better than any sales presentation ever would."

My morning continued, still without any word of what had happened between Molly and Peter last night. Just before lunch, I was in my bathroom washing my hands, and I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, and I knew I would have to phone her on some pretext.

As I came out, I found Piers McBaine and Neil Davidson standing in the middle of my office, obviously waiting for me. I looked at them, "It's deja vu all over again. Take a seat gentlemen, and tell me what this is all about."

We sat down around the coffee table. It was Piers that started, "Well, you're right in that it is the same old problem. Peter didn't come into work this morning. We've had no word from him whatsoever."

Was that a good sign or a bad sign? I didn't know. But I did know I had to respond. "That's just simply unacceptable. He's a senior executive, he can't just go walkabout when it suits him."

It was Neil who answered, "No. We agree. And this is the second time it's happened in a matter of weeks. If he was a junior member of staff he'd be fast heading to being fired."

"Have we tried phoning him? Is it possible that something has happened to him?" I asked.

Piers replied, "I haven't tried. But Neil phoned his home and got Molly. She said she didn't know where he was. She'd seen him last night, but after that he'd gone off and she hasn't seen him since."

"Hmmm." Was all I said and looked at them both. But I was thinking: Well done Molly - probably.

Piers recognised my dilemma, "It's alright; I briefed Neil on things. He knows what Peter intended last night. That's why he phoned and not me, he could be innocent and just make an enquiry without getting involved in any other conversation."

I turned to Neil, "OK. What would happen to a junior if he behaved like this?"

"Well, it's a matter of judgement. If there's been a terrible car crash and their wife's been killed, then we are terribly flexible and tolerant. If it's that someone just has a hell of a hangover, then they're going to get a formal warning letter. And all points in between. But, we've never had it with anyone this senior before."

"What does his contract say?"

"Nothing on this problem, except that holidays are arranged by mutual agreement and proper notice."

"OK. Well, I can't see any reason to make any exception just because he thinks I've got some part in the story. I guess that's what he's relying on. That I will be tolerant. So, what do you suggest?"

Neil glanced at Piers, but answered, "That all time is off his holiday allowance or is unpaid. That he gets a formal warning letter, and if he's not back by Monday then he's fired. That's what we would do with any junior. It's tough, and if he'd phoned Piers and got some form of agreement, then things would be different."

Piers interrupted, "There is always a possibility that he can come in with a doctor's note that he's suffering from depression."

I reflected Neil's words, "Then things would be different. Can I suggest one other thing. My guess is he's gone off to their cottage in Wales again, it seems to be where he goes to sulk. Piers, I assume you've got his cell phone number." Piers nodded. "Well, give it to Neil and let him make a friendly but formal warning telephone call."

Piers turned to Neil, "Are you OK to do that?"

Neil didn't look too pleased, "No. It's not the sort of call that I look forward to, but I'll do it." Then he looked around at both myself and Piers, and stood up, "Well that's settled. Anyone coming to lunch?"

I answered, "No thanks. I was going to go to the canteen and sit at a random table. You know me."

Piers looked at me, "Can I make a suggestion? That you come over to the Abbey, and have lunch in the refectory there. A bit of damage control PR before there's any damage might not be a bad thing."

Neil added, "It sounds a good idea to me. If anything, encourage a bit of gossip that will allow you and Piers to explain that this is not your fault, whatever Peter Davies says. But, in fairness, we don't know that he has or will say anything."

I looked at Piers, "OK. But we'll go in separate cars, so that I can come back here after lunch."

Piers got to the Abbey first, and he was waiting for me when I arrived. But we separated to have lunch in the refectory. No one mentioned Peter Davies to me, but I did overhear Piers say to someone, that whatever was wrong with Peter Davies's marriage it certainly wasn't Chris Bennett's responsibility. I thought that word, responsibility, was an interesting choice. It might be my fault, I might be the cause of it, but it wasn't my responsibility.

After lunch I went back to Piers's office for a quick coffee. Naturally, he asked, "It sounds like Molly gave him the order of the boot. Any idea what you'll do?"

"I'm vaguely drifting to some ideas. I just can't see that we can put it all back together and pretend that Peter Davies never happened. If I'd known then what had happened, well I guess it would have been my job to get over it. People do all sorts of stupid things, office parties, anger, depression and drunken moments. And if they are a one off, and lessons are learnt, then I think it's a challenge to get over it and rebuild things, assuming there's nothing else wrong with the marriage. But what bugs me, what I really can't explain, is why in the world did she go on to marry him? That's so wrong and just plain stupid."

"Maybe her mother was a bigger influence than you realise."

"No. First, she was still a free thinking responsible adult. You can't just blame the mother. And second, if that was true, don't you think that Molly would be clinging to it as an excuse? She doesn't believe it was all Susan's fault, so why should I?"

Piers shook his head, "But, if your not going to try and rebuild something, then I guess it's all academic anyway."

I looked at him, "Not quite. I begin to think that I'm drifting to some idea that I should put a bit of effort into trying to build some relaxed, supportive relationship with her." I shrugged, "I've got to see that she's got a proper home, and that the boys have got a decent life. That is my responsibility. It's just getting the relationship right between myself and Molly."

Piers looked at me for a long time, "Hmmm. It's interesting, isn't it? How would you go about trying to build a relationship with someone you used to be married to, years earlier? Counselling?"

"No way. First, I doubt whether any counsellor is trained in trying to pick up the pieces of a five year old rift and divorce, and put it half back together, to a friendship level. Second, I'm not having a counsellor walking all over my private life. Third, if Molly and I can't talk honestly to each other, then why are we bothering?"

"OK. But I suspect some periods of formal talking, exchanges of views and information, would be sensible....."

And after that, Piers and myself went into an almost academic exercise of how to put a relationship back together. We even started writing on his white board, with headings like Emotions, Sex, Needs, Wants, and time allocations for various things. It only took ten minutes, it wasn't particularly deep, but it was useful in getting my mind into gear.

But then I came back to where we started, "But, there is no point if I can't understand how the hell she married him. I could work at understanding or accepting the original adultery, and that's a fairly big obstacle to get over in itself, but not her being married to him for four years. It just makes her the sort of person that I don't want to know."

Piers did one of his long, thoughtful stares, "But you do want to know....." Again he paused, and then brighten up, "I'm under the cosh at home, or will be when Jeanette gets back from being a grandmother at the weekend, to get you to come to dinner again."

"I'd love to. But you must let me entertain you this time. Somewhere in Bath, you must have a favourite."

"Well, how about... I don't know...Saturday of next week? I'm up at Ester's this weekend, and Jeanette will come home with me. So, why not come round to our place early evening on the following Saturday, and I'll have booked something by then?"

"It's a date." And I left him, and I headed back to the office.

As I came into Carole's office, she handed me the usual sheaf of notes, and then an extra one: "That's the restaurant I told you about. I've actually booked you a table for four people at seven o'clock. I guessed that'd be about right. But I can change it or cancel it."

"No. Let's make the birthday boy face a challenge. Thanks, it sounds... different?"

And so I was ringing Molly's doorbell to take them all for dinner, not long gone six o'clock. She opened the door, and when she saw it was me, she sort of fell into my arms, shaking and crying.

"Hey! What's the matter? Talk to me, tell me."

I led her into the kitchen, but when I went to guide her to a chair, she just said, "No. Hold me, just hold me. I'll be alright in a moment."

So I held her, and eventually she stopped sobbing and did sit down.

She smiled weakly at me, "Sorry about that, I've had a bit of a twenty four hours..."

Just then Ben came bouncing into the room, "Hi, Daddy. Are we going then?"

"Hold on a few minutes, Mummy needs to tell me something. Go and find Jamie and play until I come and get you. OK?"

"OK." He said, rather sulkily, but he did go, looking at his mother, but not saying anything.

After he'd left, I looked at her, "OK. What's happened?"

"It started last night. On Saturday, the letter for Peter from my solicitor arrived. And I put it under his door. Well, he came home last night, and the first thing I knew was him standing in here, with a huge bunch of sweet peas in one hand and the letter in the other, and asking what it meant. And I told him I needed to know what were his intentions about our marriage. I didn't say that I wanted him to divorce me, I thought I'd go gently."

"OK" I said.

"And he said his intentions were to forgive me everything. That he loved me, and that we had a wonderful marriage until you came back into the picture. And he was sure he could get used to you being around, and that he wanted everything to go back as it was. And he handed me the sweet peas."

"Oh! So what did you do?"

"I told him that he'd been right all along, that I did love you. And I thought the marriage was over. But he then seemed to go into panic mode. He said that it was all a passing obsession. That you didn't love me. That he knew we'd spoken, and you hadn't taken me back, and couldn't I see that you never would, and....." She trailed off into some tears.

I filled the pause, "But whether we get back together or not is irrelevant. Your marriage to him is wrong. It always has been. And it has to be ended."

She looked at me, "I know. I know. And that's what I told him. But he wouldn't have it. He seemed to be demanding that I had to stay married to him. That he needed me so much, that I didn't have any say in the matter. I ended up saying that if he didn't divorce me, then I'd divorce him. I think that brought him up with a jerk. But then he started blaming you. That you'd put me up to it...."

"Which in some ways is true."

"No, you only prompted me to do something that's needed doing for ages. Anyway, he was ranting and saying how much he loved me and that I loved him really, then he was crying and sobbing. He went down on his knees and begged me to give him another chance. I said there was no point, but I felt awful. It was horrid."

"So how did it end?"

"It ended when Trisha Marsden from over the road knocked at the door. He answered it and he led her away, and never came back. I locked the doors, so that at least he'd have to knock and I would have some warning."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Neil Davidson phoned this morning and asked where he was. Apparently he hadn't gone into work. That worried me, so I went and looked, he wasn't in the gym, and his car has gone. I guess he's gone to Wales. But I haven't phoned."

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, I went down the directory and found Neil Davidson and pressed Dial. Thank you Carole for loading all useful numbers into my directory.

"Neil Davidson."

"Neil, it's Chris. Did you trace Peter Davies?"

"Yes you were right. He's at their holiday cottage."

"And did you tell him that he's on thin ice?"

"Yes. I gave him quite a talking to, I tried to make it sympathetic and understanding, but with a tough bottom line. I told him that if he wasn't back by Monday, then he'd be fired."

"What did he say?"

"That we'd have to wait until fucking Monday to find out if he fucking cared, and if he wanted to work for that fucking bastard. I assume you are the bastard in question."

I paused before I replied, "I suppose I owe him. I give Scotch to people who call me a fucking bastard. Hasn't Piers told you? But I think I'll just stay as a fucking bastard for him, no whisky."

"I'd heard. And Yes, I'd skip it with him, if I were you."

"Thanks Neil." And we rang off.

I looked at Molly. "It's alright. He hasn't done anything stupid. He is in Wales."

She half smiled, "I guess he's in trouble at work."

"Yes he is. We can't have senior guys just not coming in when they don't feel like it."

"No, you probably can't. There's a little boy element in Peter. But I didn't think he'd do anything stupid. Peter is totally opposed to suicide in circumstances like these. I guessed he'd just gone to Wales."

"Anyway, you should have phoned me last night. Not that there was a lot I could do or say."

"No. It was something that I had to do. It was just horrible, I hated seeing him like that. He does love me, and it wasn't nice."

"No, it probably wasn't. I'm sorry, but you did the right thing." I paused, and for a moment our eyes connected, "So, that was yesterday. What happened today?"

"Susan turned up at about four o'clock to give Jamie his birthday present."

"How is she?"

"Fit, well and unrepentant. She sort of arrived as if everything was normal. It was odd."

"And?"

"And I showed her into the sitting room, where the boys were watching television. She gave Jamie his present, and that was odd, he unwrapped it and it was a game for an X-Box. But Jamie doesn't have an X-Box, so I didn't understand."

"What did she say?"

"She seemed surprised that he didn't have an X-Box. She seemed to think that he was having one for his birthday. I don't know where she got that idea."

"I do." I said, "I've just remembered something Carole said." I paused and looked at her and took her hand; I wasn't sure how she was going to react to what I was going to say, "Peter came to see me in my office yesterday. He came to tell me that he was going to forgive everyone and move on with his life. I really thought that he had accepted the idea of divorce, and had learnt to live with it. Apparently he went to see Piers, and gave him the same impression. But, I thought he looked fit and well. And apparently Carole thought the same, only she mentioned it, and he said it was sea air that had done him good. I didn't think about it at the time, but you don't get a lot of sea air halfway up a Welsh mountain, but you do in Weymouth."

Her lips thinned, and her eyes hardened, "They got together over the weekend. I bet it was her that put him up to last night's attempted reconciliation. And she thought he was going to give Jamie an X-Box." She paused, and then stood up and got herself a glass of water, "I asked her, did she meet with Peter before we were married? She wouldn't actually answer that. She said that all she did was for the best, that she wanted me to be happy. How could she, she's my mother? So much for motherly love and maternal instincts."

"How did you leave it?"

She shrugged, "I told her to phone next time before she comes to visit. I think that shocked her, we always had an easy come and go relationship before. She started to protest that she was their grandmother, that she had a right to see them. But I just said it would be more convenient if she phoned ahead of time in future. Whether she will or not....." she shrugged again.

We paused, in silence. There didn't seem to be much I could say. I did think that I would have to tell her that I had wind of Peter's reconciliation attempt and that I'd chosen to do nothing. But, I'd leave that for another day.

I went over and gave her a quick hug. "Are you going to be alright? Or shall I tell Jamie that he's going to have to wait for another night?"

"No. Come on. I need to freshen up, but it will be good for me and help me to stop thinking. My brain's in overload."

Eventually, we got to the restaurant, and it turned out to be better and more fun that I was expecting. As is the way of these things, the only one not to eat an unusual meat was the birthday boy, Jamie. Molly had crocodile, I had ostrich, and Ben had a bison burger, although I suspect that had more to do with burger than bison. But, what did Jamie want? Lasagne! But it was his birthday, and we didn't argue. I gave him my present, and he seemed really pleased with the books, until gave him the Ipod, which seemed far more exciting.