TGI Chronicles Pt. 2 Ch. 05

"Hi, Dave." said Drew. "I was asking Davinia when I could possibly get in to see Tim." He was obviously guilty enough to think he ought to make excuses.

"And when are you going to? Don't make it Friday afternoon, I'm seeing him then. And that's in your best interests." If he feels guilty, I might as well rub it in that I am not an enemy.

Davinia opened Tim's diary, so it wasn't open before I arrived. "How about tomorrow morning, about ten o'clock, but I'll give you a call Drew, when he's free." She made a pencil note. And he left without another word.

After he'd gone, I looked at Davinia, "Should I be worried?"

"No. Of course not. We were only chatting. He likes to chat to me."

"So do I." I said with emphasis.

Then there was a silence between us. I decided the best route was to show interest, "Sorry you were in such a rush this morning. Did your mother have the material?"

"No. So I'll have to work with what I've got in wardrobe." She seemed quiet.

"I know you're not around tonight. How about tomorrow night?"

"No. I told you, the next couple of weeks are going to be tight. I'm not sure I'll even make the office drinks on Friday. But I will promise to be at your place by nine o'clock on Friday. Will the tiramisu last that long?"

"Probably not. But not to worry. I'll dream up something else. But it might not be quite so good. I'll probably go to the pub for a couple beforehand, just to show willing, you know."

I went home still feeling unsettled. Time to fall back on tried and tested solutions for when I'm in this sort of mood. I phoned Lucy. But before she answered, I switched off, phoning Lucy in the hope of a good hard sweaty sex session wasn't a solution to Davinia upsetting me. Somehow, in someway, I felt guilty about it.

I poured myself a large brandy. And then I went and chose a porn DVD to watch. I chose one of my stronger ones, in fact the only bondage one I had as I'm not really into bondage. But this one has a delicious looking blonde, and some semblance of a story line, even if it is a very weak one. I watched it, drinking brandy with one hand, and the other hand gently pumping my cock. I found myself projecting Davinia into the girl's role on the film. She was giving so much of herself to her lover. She accepted discomfort, indignity, and exposure for her lover's pleasure. She was giving the whole of herself, not staying away from him sewing stage costumes! Eventually, the film made me cum, but I didn't really enjoy it.

I put the disc away and poured myself yet another brandy.

I was still restless and unsettled. I knew I was unhappy, what I didn't know was what I wanted. OK, I knew I wanted more of Davinia's time, I wanted her here now, with me. But, for what, what did she really mean to me? Was I falling for her? Well there was no point in doing that, it would only mean it would hurt all the more when we get to the final bust-up. She was just a girl, the latest in a long line. OK, so these days I wanted something more than the one night stand with a pretty face from Shades, I was getting older. I wanted an easy going relationship with an easy going girl, where we slept together and had fun. That wasn't falling for her. And no way was that anything to do with the L word. No way.

And on that clarification of my feelings, I went to bed.

Thursday was just a busy day in the office. I noticed that Tim was around for some of it, but we didn't really talk, beyond a greeting at the coffee machine.

After work I went to the gym for an extra long and heavy session. Then I went to the pub, in the hope of finding some TGI'ers. Anything was better than going back to the flat, with me alone in the mood I've been in all week. The only two there were Don McIntyre, the Sales and Marketing Director, and Alice. Apparently they had just had a good day doing a presentation for a new potential client, and had only just got back. Don said he wasn't stopping, he only needed to take a break after the long drive and before he went home. So that left me and Alice.

I picked up her empty glass, "Fancy another?"

"With you, anytime, Dave." There she goes again!

When I got back with her drinks, she took hers and looked at me, "So what is Mr Domestic doing here when he should be home roasting his toes in front of the log fire, in connubial bliss with Davinia?"

I looked at her, "Mr Domestic? Me? You must be joking."

"Well, I'll grant you that that was thinking ahead a bit, but I suspect one or other of the secretaries has opened a book on when you and Davinia will name the day."

"Now I know you're joking. This is the great Dave Finch here. Isn't my reputation worth anything?"

"Not when it's up against a determined female, no." she said, smiling sweetly.

"Well, if Davinia's objective is to get me to the altar, firstly she's chosen the wrong target. Secondly, she's got a very odd way of going about it."

Alice smiled quietly, "And that's why you're here drinking and not roasting your toes. What's she done?"

"Well... yes!"

"And you're not at all upset because you can take 'em or leave 'em. I understand. On a night, when I guess she has decided not to be with you, you will make a show of independence and go to the pub. How very conveniently your diaries slot together."

Alice was laughing at me. "Well, at least I've got a girlfriend, where's your man?" was the best I could do.

"Oh! I know who my man is." She smiled sweetly.

"But does he know it?" I said, regaining some advantage.

She paused, still smiling. "So. Do you want to go and get something to eat and you can tell me what Davinia's done wrong?"

"Yes. Why not? Where do you fancy?"

"How about that pub at the top of the High Street? It's got something to do with birds. The Magpie? The Blackbird? No, I remember, it's the Three Chuffs. I hear they do some good bar food in the evenings, and it's meant to be cheap."

"Well, if it's got good beer then it can be renamed Heaven" I declared, finishing my beer and ready to leave.

And that's what we did. And I enjoyed it. We didn't talk about Davinia, but mainly about office gossip, including a good debate on whether Tim and Beth would survive this time. Interestingly, I was on their side, it was Alice who was the doubtful one, but maybe both of us were just taking positions for the sake of the argument.

Then, at about ten thirty and well after we'd finished eating, a whole noisy crowd arrives from some meeting or other, amongst them is Davinia. She saw me with Alice, and she didn't look too pleased.

Give Alice her due, she immediately saw the potential problem. "I spot troubled waters! Time to pour a little oil." And she got up and went over to Davinia, with me following.

"Hello, Davinia. I found this boyfriend of yours, coming into a pub all alone and needing a drinking companion for the evening. I think he needs some TLC, and not from me."

I put my arm around Davinia and kissed her cheek. She didn't turn to meet my kiss. I could almost hear her brain working through her thoughts.

Let's keep this light I decided, "Can I get you a drink, Dav?"

"No thanks, I think someone is getting me one."

She then did some introductions, but just introducing us as Dave and Alice, two colleagues that work at TGI. Not good! But I stayed with it, being polite, and definitely keeping my arm around her waist, which she seemed OK with. Alice quickly finished her drink and made her excuses and left.

I leant over Davinia and whispered "How about we head back to my place?"

She ignored my suggestion, and just went on talking to this rather fat lady about the problem of skirt hems getting trodden on and torn on the stairs back stage. Eventually, the group began to break up and we found ourselves outside.

"I'll ask again, how about coming back to my place? Come on. Please, I've hardly seen you this week."

"No, Dave. I'm not in the mood. And anyway, Ma and Pa are expecting me home, and they'll worry. And I can't go into work tomorrow in jeans, I haven't got anything to wear at your place."

"So, give your parents a call and tell them you're stopping with me. And let's get up early enough to go in via their place in the morning. Come on, Dav, I want you with me."

"No. That doesn't help my mood. I didn't expect to see you tonight, and certainly not with Alice. I think I'll go home. But I will come round tomorrow evening, I've already told everybody that I'm going to leave at eight thirty tomorrow night."

And she gave me a peck on the cheek and was walking away.

I chased after her, "No, Dav, we need to talk, we need to clear the air. And I miss you."

"Do we Dave? Is there anything to clear the air about? Well, not tonight. Now please don't make a scene in the street. Go home and I'll see you in the office tomorrow and we can talk tomorrow evening, if you've got something you need to say."

Fuck. Damn and Blast! Again!

Friday morning in the office, I spent most of it just buried in my office, alone. Writing all over my wall of white boards, trying to get my brain into gear to present Tim with a big idea that afternoon. The only real intrusion was a call from Alice to apologise if Davinia had misunderstood anything from catching us together last night. She offered to have another word with Davinia if I thought that would help. I told her not to bother, if she was doubting me, well I'd have to find a way round that, and for once in my life I was completely innocent.

At lunchtime I went to the gym and then for a walk along the riverbank to finally shape my ideas for Tim, and how to approach him. When I got back to the office, I dropped in on Davinia, she was friendly, but neutral, I reminded her that I was waiting to see Tim, she said she'd give me a call as soon as he was free.

Well, he wasn't free to nearly half past four. I started gently, explaining the problems, the lack of flexibility, the lack of career development to meet staff's needs and talents, of the current organisation. I tried praising the current structure as probably good for the technology of yesteryear, but we're here now dealing with the systems and the people of today. It took be an hour to get him to concede some of the weaknesses of the current structure, and even that was reluctantly. Then I launched into my idea of a total restructure and reorganisation, different staff gradings, different career progressions, different ways of staffing projects. Well, if the first hour was hard work, this second hour was impossible. By a quarter to seven we were still talking. Davinia had brought us more tea at six o'clock, just before she left, and that had gone cold.

Tim looked up from pausing to think about all I had said, "I need a drink. How about you?"

What I good idea, I thought. It'll give him time to absorb the idea, "Yes, I actually do need one. My throat is dry from all the talking I've been doing."

"Let's make it the Black Swan, I don't think we should go over the road, not with these ideas going around in our heads."

"Suits me."

And that is where we went. Tim was still very quiet and thoughtful as we walked there, as he ordered the first two pints, as he drank most of his straight off, still deep in thought. I left him with his thoughts, but getting more and more anxious for him to pronounce his verdict on my ideas.

Eventually, he looked up at me, "You're a fucking idiot, Dave. The current structure is the way the company has been organised for as long as I know. Even if I went for it, there is no way I could get it past Charlie and Neil, what we've got is probably something they laid down right at the beginning."

"Well, you don't know that unless you ask."

"Oh, yes. I'll just breeze into Neil's office on Monday morning and tell him he has the total company structure wrong. And then I'll go and see Charlie, but it wouldn't be to talk about your cock-a-mammy idea by then. It would be to collect my cards and hand in the key to my company car."

"So we live with an outmoded structure, not making the best use of our people, because you're too fucking scared to have an argument with Neil. Gee, thanks for your support boss."

"I'll support you when you start talking sense. Whilst you're being a fucking idiot you're out there on your own."

"It appears I am anyway. You don't add much to the mix. You're just a waste of space. To think I was pleased when you got that job. You're right, I am a fucking idiot. A fucking idiot to ever had any faith in you."

I finished my pint and slammed my glass on the table. Tim said nothing. After a long silence, during which the enormity of my outburst was beginning to dawn on me, he looked up. "Well, it's your round." He said as he pushed his empty glass across the table to me.

I looked at the empty glass, I looked at Tim. He waited. Was this an olive branch? I probably didn't deserve one. I took it graciously, with a half smile. I got up and went to the bar.

When I returned I started on a change of subject "I saw you talking to Greg Dickens at the Races. I didn't get a chance to speak to him. He looked bloody awful, obviously whatever he's got is serious. The big C?" I asked.

"Well, I guess cancer was the start of it." said Tim, thoughtfully. He looked at me, "It started with his father-in-law getting cancer. From all accounts he's on the long goodbye route. But, he's in Scotland, and Greg's wife has been going up there a lot to look after him, leaving Greg at home to look after two young children, with the help of his mother-in-law."

"That doesn't make sense. Why is his wife going up to Scotland if there is a mother-in-law around who could be looking after her husband?"

"Ah! Well, her parents are divorced. And Greg says, the mother-in-law is very bitter and twisted about it. She spends her time looking after her grandchildren and bending Greg's ear at every chance she gets as to what a shit his father-in-law is and most men in general."

"Sounds fun. And he's meant to keep his job going as well. No wonder he looks stressed, poor lad."

"Oh, no. It gets far worse. Greg took comfort and refuge with a divorcee at work. He swears it was only three times in a couple of months. But his mother-in-law caught on. And being a bitch, she decided to tell her daughter, in Glorious Technicolor as Greg put it."

"Ouch!" I said, sipping my beer.

"So, Greg was served with his divorce papers within the week of the big confession scene. He is not a happy man."

"He's not just moving on to the divorcee?"

"No. Greg swears it was just two or three times, a coupling of stress and convenience. It's the witch of the mother-in-law that is egging her daughter on that is the real problem, according to Greg."

"Poor lad. He didn't look happy."

"Well, you've got to take it with a pinch of salt. Remember this is the story from Greg's point of view. It might not be exactly a well balanced account."

"Sounds true to me. Bloody women twisting things, blowing things out of proportion and not being trustworthy. They all screw us in the end."

"Things not going well with you and Davinia then?"

I took a sip of beer, "I think it's over bar the shouting. And I'm about to go back to supper at my place for that tonight."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"Fucking annoyed. I haven't done anything wrong. And all I'm getting is a cold shoulder."

"Well, I guess she never expected it to last long, not with you. So, I guess she's picked up on the idea that it's probably coming to an end anyway. Pity, I thought you two might be good together."

"What do you mean, she'd never expect it to last long?"

"Well, you're not exactly strong on the love and commitment bit are you Dave. You've never allowed yourself to be loved by any woman for as long as I've known you."

"Well, there's no point in falling in love, whatever that means. They will only screw you around. Look at what's happened to Greg, or what Beth did to you. Only, like a fucking idiot, you've gone back for more."

"Well, at least I'm capable of keeping a woman living with me for more than a week. Unlike some. You may be good at the picking up bit, Dave, but you're fucking bloody useless at giving enough of yourself for them to ever think you might be decent enough to be worth staying with."

"Oh, Yeah! Well I don't get caught crying myself to sleep night after night because I didn't even notice that my slut wife was screwing the next door neighbour."

He slammed his glass down, looked at me, and walked out. Fucking idiot, going back to his slut wife!

I finished my drink, feeling very righteous, and knowing that I've just taken a promising career and stuffed it up totally. And lost a good friendship in the process. But he deserved it, every word. Too much of a coward to tell the company when it's got something wrong. Too weak to really walk away from a stupid bitch of a wife.

I went home via the little Indian supermarket to buy some curries.