Back to Bristol Ch. 17

So, by the time I got to Piers's Scottish pub that night, I was quite pleased with the timeliness of the meeting. I could bend his ear with my problems.

"I need to eat." I announced, picking up a menu.

"Well, let's sit down at a table, and you can. But you won't need that." He took the menu card out of my hand, "If you're drinking whisky, well there is only one thing to eat. But I won't join you, I ate with Jeanette before I came out."

So, we found a table, and I ordered my haggis. And Piers got us the first of our whiskies, a Glenkinchie, "Something you know. A good base from which to start."

"So?" was all he asked, as we sipped our drinks.

"So, I think I need to chew the fat, and to hear the words of wisdom that I'm sure will guide me through a bit of a quandary." But, before that, I had to bring him up to date, which with his questioning got us through three Speyside whiskies, and my meal.

It had been Piers who decided that my education that night would focus on brand names that I might recognise, and only from Speyside. And for the first three, he had lined them up on the table, with me tasting each in turn, Glen Grant, Glenlivet and a Macallen. And I was very pleased with myself, because I could begin to spot differences between them. By the time we'd finished this phase of the whisky tasting I'd brought Piers up to date on my relationship with Molly, and on Peter and Susan, and even on Molly seeing Heather Washington.

Pier's looked at me, "I think this is a good point to stop the education bit, you've probably learnt enough for tonight anyway. I wouldn't want to over tax your wee managing director's brain, so let's get on to serious drinking. And I suspect, now you really want to talk. Am I right?"

Four whiskies down, and now we get on to the serious drinking! I smiled, "I don't know what to do. I reckon that Molly and I are about at the point where it can't get any better. We're back as honest open friends. I understand what happened, well almost, which helps me. And I've been able to give her some support when she's been going through a pretty rough time. So, at some point, we've got to agree we're friends, and then we can start building the rest of our lives, other relationships and whatever the future holds."

Piers drank the last of his Macallen, and said, "Oh, let's stick to the Speyside." And he ordered two Abelours. Then he looked at me, "Well, there are two gaps in that little scenario."

"Which are?"

"First, you said that you still only almost understand. What don't you understand?"

"I'm beginning to understand what happened to Molly that led her to marry Peter Fucking Davies. He was obsessed by her. He was wooing her on turbo charge. And Susan was aiding and abetting him all the way down the line. For a girl slightly shell-shocked from what had happened in her life, I'm not surprised that she weakened. We talked about it a lot last night, and I am beginning to be convinced, but I'm not totally satisfied. I reckon she should have told him to fuck off, even if that meant a hell of a row with Susan about how cruel she thought Molly was being to a kind and loving man."

"So, you really need to talk some more on that one. OK. And my other question was that you have this idea that you are going to move forward in your life, by which I assume you are going to start dating again, but that Molly is not."

That did leave me a little nonplussed. I hadn't considered Molly dating again. "Well, I sort of assumed that as the mother of two young boys, that her life would be taken up with looking after them. She's got to find somewhere to live for a start." I looked at Piers, "Single parent mothers just divorced don't date, do they? I know she did before, but she was under pressure from Susan, but not when left to her own devices. I guess she will sometime, but I would have thought she'd leave it a while."

"And if she did, how would you feel?"

I thought about that, then I smiled, "Can I have a couple of days notice of that question?"

"Well, if you want to move on to dating, why shouldn't Molly? And how would you feel about that? About bringing another man into your children's lives."

Now that did hit home, "That's unfair, Piers." I sunk my Abelour in one gulp. "But fuck. You're right." I paused again, "This morning I half fancied a woman at a business breakfast I went to. But I didn't fancy her as much as I fancy Molly. And I was scared that that was how it was going to be for the rest of my life. I can't totally reconcile with Molly, but I can't move on either. And you, you fucking bastard, have just given me another angle on that horrible scenario. What happens if I'm stuck in limbo land and she moves on?"

He ignored my rant, and turned to the bar and ordered two Glenrothes. Then he turned back, "So, you fancy Molly, do you? She's still does it for you?"

"Yes. She always has. But that's irrelevant. I'm not going to start screwing her. And it would be totally wrong to try and build a friendship with benefits, as they say. I'm not the most moral person in the world, but that would be unfair on both of us."

Piers sat sipping his Glenrothes, and thinking. "You know Molly has great hopes that she can win you back? She told Jeanette that she was going to do whatever it took, and take as long as it has to. God only knows why, she's attractive enough to get half a dozen men more attractive than you. But, she has been through rather a lot recently, maybe she's not thinking straight."

"Piers, you're doing a Susan. I can feel you pulling my strings. Stop it."

He smiled, "No. I was being healthily disparaging about you. That'll do you no harm. But I have been reminding you that if you want to start playing around, then Molly can as well. And I reckon she's a better catch than you are. Maybe not financially, but in most other respects. And if the Courts give her the proper settlement from Peter, even financially she'll be quite attractive."

We both sipped our whiskies in silence. I couldn't find the loophole in his argument, maybe another whisky would help. I slammed my empty glass down, "What next?"

"Glenfiddich." Piers smiled, "They've got an eighteen year old one back there, but I'd better get them, they won't serve it to a Sassenach."

When we had our fresh whiskies, Piers said, "I know what I would do, if I were you. I'd give it time. Poor Molly has had a horrible time in the last few weeks. She's launched a divorce petition against her husband, and has no idea whether he'll give her a clean and simple divorce, or whether she faces a long drawn out wrangle through the Courts. She's had serious falling out with her mother, and maybe has split from her for ever, and that can't be easy..."

"I told you, she's talking to a counsellor about that." I said.

"Good. There is something very fundamental about our relationship with our mothers. Finding that you can't stand yours must be horrible. But then on top of that, she's finding out some of the things that hit her two sons, and she'll be worried about any aftermath for them. And finally, she's seeing her own father getting a divorce. And however much of a brave face he puts on it, it must be hurting him like Hell, and his daughter will know that."

There was a pause while I took in quite how bad Molly's situation has been. But then Piers continued, "I don't think having the love of her life telling her that he's only a good friend, and that he has other plans, is quite what she wants at the moment."

I sipped my whisky, and I wished he hadn't said that.

Piers continued, "It won't hurt you to tread water for a couple of weeks. And anyway, it'll give you a chance to finish finding out quite why the hell she married a man she never loved."

I finished my whisky. The alcohol was making me quiet this evening. But Piers didn't seem to mind. He asked, "How is Molly standing up to all the things going on in her life at the moment?"

I thought about that for a moment, then replied, "Really well, actually. OK, she gets upset or uptight, who wouldn't? But, she's remaining pretty level headed about it all. Why? Did I imply otherwise?"

"No, I just wanted to check. What shall we have as a last one? I think I saw a twenty five year old Knockando hidden at the end of the shelf. That'll do nicely."

When we had our final whiskies which looked to be doubles to my mind, I fell back into my silent thoughtfulness, but I was aware that Piers was sitting the other side of the table just quietly looking at me.

"What?" was all I asked.

"I was thinking, in some ways, you are a lucky bastard. And I wondering what was special about you."

"OK. I guess you're going to explain how being up to my neck in this shit makes me a lucky bastard."

"Well, you have something that most married men don't. Oh, we all want to believe that we are wanted, are absolutely essential to our wives' lives. But you know it."

He paused, and looked at me, but I guess I just look mystified and was waiting for him to continue. Which he did, "When Molly lost you out of her life, her life went down the pan, it was shit. She took stupid decisions, she allowed stupid things to happen. Her life wasn't properly manageable without you. She was lost. But, now you're there again, well she can cope with dreadful things happening, and remain level headed. I'd like to think that Jeanette would be lost without me, but I don't know. You do know that about Molly."

"God! You like to lay it on with a trowel, don't you?" I observed, and he smiled, but I continued, "What are you saying? That Molly is some weak willed slut, and it's my duty to be there to protect her from herself? No thank you."

"No. And you know I'm not. Molly is a strong person. She's no slut, and don't try and make out that she is, just because she made a mistake once. No, but even strong people aren't always so strong if they don't have their loving support systems around them. You and Molly are stronger together than apart. You know it and you have the proof." He paused, "And I'm probably drunk, so you'll have to make up your own mind as to whether it's vino veritas, or the ramblings of a drunk."

"Which seems a good point to say goodnight." I said and started to stand.

"No coffee, or even a fleeting taste of the Orkneys?"

"No thanks Piers. Give my love to Jeanette, but I told the driver to pick me up from here. He should be outside waiting."

And that's how we left it. Piers had done his job. He'd given me some fresh angles of things. Damn him!

By the time I got to my Thursday meeting with Molly, I'd got no further in my thinking than not to make waves. Instead, we continued to talk a lot about how Peter got her to agree to his marriage proposal. And slowly but surely I was beginning to have some understanding of what happened.

Molly did admit, after a lot of fairly deep talking, that she had felt a tremendous urge for a rebound relationship. She had lost her husband, she desperately needed a new one. I had some understanding of that. I remembered the sad and desperate trawls I made through seedy pubs and clubs, looking for a woman, any woman. I know it was very important to me to prove that I was still a man, that I could still attract and satisfy the female of the species. I guess the same was true for Molly.

So, in the end, I guess I just have to accept that Molly fell into a totally stupid marriage under the relentless pressure of Peter, who was obsessed by her. And under the pressure of Susan, who was desperate to see her daughter with a safe, middle class future based in Bristol. And under her own pressure of needing a man. Plus all the corruption and collusion and lying and cheating thrown in for good measure. It all added up to a good person making a dreadful mistake.

Understanding it in my head didn't necessarily convince my heart. I still hurt and I was still angry. And our conversation very quickly disintegrated into me telling her what a pity it was that Susan took all her telephones away, that she couldn't pick up a phone and talk to me. It was a pity that somehow she felt she owed Peter such loyalty that she had to date him all the time and never had a chance to come and see me. My sarcasm wasn't wasted, it only took me about ten minutes to reduce her to tears. An evening that should have finished with the satisfaction of knowing and understanding the truth ended in tears and recriminations.

It was that Friday, just after lunch, and I was in my office, girding my loins for the afternoon, when Molly phoned me. I thought, here we go again, Susan's done something.

"Sorry to phone you, but I had to tell you. I've just heard from my solicitor. Apparently, Peter has appointed a solicitor, and the divorce can go through uncontested. And he accepts the financial settlement."

"Great. You must be so relieved."

"I am. Actually, he has some minor changes to the settlement. He wants to preserve the Welsh cottage as his, although its value will be accounted for. And I must return all the jewellery he ever gave me except for my engagement and wedding rings. I suspect that's slightly wrong, I think his solicitor has made a mistake. I think all he wants back is his mother's jewellery, but I'm not going to argue, he can have the lot back. He has accepted that I get fifty percent of the total net worth, which is good."

"Well done." I answered.

"It's all down to you. It's because of what you said to him last Friday. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

She was bubbling. It was obviously a great relief that he was conceding.

I'd just about put the phone down on her, when Carole came in. "Who would destroy the peace and tranquillity of your Friday afternoon the most? Because she's sitting outside wanting to see you."

"Susan? Fuck! As you say, shit happens." I paused and thought, "OK. I guess you'd better show her in. But what does she want with me, she hates my guts?" As Carole turned to go, I added, "And definitely, no tea or coffee."

Carole turned back towards me, "Arsenic?"

"Don't tempt me. Just tell her to park her broomstick and come in."

As Susan came through the door, I looked up, "Susan. I can't say I'm not rather surprised to see you. Do take a seat."

She sat down at my desk. I looked at her, she simply looked awful. She not only looked tired and old, but she hadn't even brushed her hair properly.

"Chris. I thought I'd come and see the organ grinder and not the monkey."

"And who do you see as the monkey?"

"Does it matter? I know it's you that is orchestrating this campaign against Peter and myself." She paused, and then added, "You've got to make it stop, before some real damage is done."

"Don't you think helping to wreck my marriage to your daughter was real damage? I do."

"But that was a long time ago. I know Molly and Ralph are upset with me for what I did then. But it's all a long time ago. I'm sixty next year. I won't be on this planet for that much longer, and you're trying to separate me from the people I love the most. I need you to make them see sense."

Do all ex-mother-in-laws live in cloud cuckoo land, or is it just mine? "Susan, to the very best of my knowledge, both Ralph and Molly have come to their own personal views on you and on what you did. And I don't think either of them like you very much. If you've got problems with that, well you'll have to take it up with them. But I warn you, I think it's too late. The damage is done, and I don't think they're about to forgive you."

She smiled, a sickly smile, "But that's why I've come to see you. I know you don't like what I did. I suppose I can't blame you for that. But, you know the truth now, and I see you haven't reconciled with Molly, so I assume you are happy with the way things turned out. But you can't really believe that it is reasonable for Ralph to divorce me, or for Molly to not only refuse to see me, but to stop me seeing Jamie and Ben. What am I meant to do? They're my own kith and kin, I can't be cut of from them. You must see that."

"Well, I suggest you start getting used to the idea. And no, I'm not happy that you did your utmost to separate Jamie and Ben from their father. That was plain wrong, and potentially damaging to two young innocent boys. So, I'm not going to interfere on your behalf. Isn't that what you used to tell Ralph, that he mustn't interfere? Tell you what, why don't you write Ralph and Molly letters? And I'll post them for you."

She grimaced, angrily, "I suppose you think that's smart. All I ever wanted was my family around me, is that so wrong? Was I wrong to fight for something good like that? You're a businessman, you know you have to go out and get what you want in this world."

"Not at the expense of betraying your own loved ones. They don't trust you, and trust, once lost is never easily regained. Forget it, Susan. You got caught, and now you pay the price."

"But it's all in the past. Of course they can trust me. Why shouldn't they?"

I sighed, "Let's take something mundane. You think Ralph's a bit overweight, say, and you've been nagging him a bit about it. Well, then you come home from the supermarket, and say that they didn't have his favourite type of cheese. Now is that honest, or are you lying to force him to eat the tasteless half fat version you bought? He knows you are willing to lie and cheat and be dishonest to get what you want. It will permeate every day life, every action that you take. He doesn't trust you. And, as I understand it, he's not willing to live like that, and I can hardly blame him."

"No. No, you're wrong. Ralph married me until death us do part, for better or worse. He's a good, honest man. He may be upset with me now, but he'll get over it. He'll not let us split up over this. He won't go ahead with this divorce idea. He's just angry with me, but he'll see sense. It's Molly that I'm worried about. She said some dreadful things to me, and I've waited, and she hasn't apologised. I guess you won't let her. Well, you've got to, she's my daughter; she's part of my life. Don't you see that?"

"Molly has made her decision about you. It is nothing to do with me, but I will support her with what she's decides, even if she changes her mind. Personally, I think you're an evil selfish bitch. But if I have to, I will treat you civilly. I won't change my mind about you, but I will treat you civilly."

She smiled, almost in victory, "No, you're wrong. You don't know them or understand them at all. But I'm wasting my time. Well, you've had your chance. When all of this has blown over, you won't be welcome at my house, ever. You're a cruel, manipulative man. And you seem to bear grudges. I thought you were ambitious and selfish, but I never thought you'd stoop this low. But I can see I was wrong."

She stood up and turned to leave. I purposely picked up a paper on my desk and pretended to read it, "Goodbye, Susan."

She was no sooner out of the door, than Carole was in it. "OK?" was all she asked.

I smiled, "You work for a cruel, manipulative man. Did you know that?"

Carole smiled, "Yes."

I laughed, and it eased the tension in my body. "What is it about Fridays? Three weeks ago it was Susan. Last week it was Peter. This week it's Susan again. Would you please phone Peter Davies and tell him that next Friday's meeting has been postponed indefinitely.

Carole laughed and then said, "They're queuing at the door. You're running late now."

"OK. Show them in, and let's get back to business. But, can you do me a favour?" I handed her my phone, "Phone Molly, please. And warn her that Susan is in Bristol, she's seen me, and now we don't know where she's gone. But don't panic her."

"I see. Your mother's on the warpath, she's probably looking for you. But don't worry." She smiled.

Of course, as Carole brought in the tea during my meeting, she told me that I was now expected to have dinner with Molly and Ralph as soon as I left work, just to tell them all about Susan's visit.