The Motorcyclist

"Where's Beth," demanded Maddy sharply, when I closed the door.

"Where do you think?" I answered brusquely.

"You haven't done anything stupid have you James?" She virtually accused me.

"Depends on whether taking her to her dancing lessons is stupid or not."

"Oh ...... Oh yes ...... Sorry I forgot," Maddy mumbled in embarrassment.

OK, so round one to me, but there was a long way to go.

"Look James," she started off again. "Tom's been really good about all this mess, and made me realise that I'm not being very fair to you. If we can just sit down and talk this all through, then we both think that we can come up with something that works for all three of us."

"I presume you mean all four of us Maddy," I pointed out. "Aren't you forgetting Beth?"

"Yes of course James," Maddy rushed in with. "Of course I mean all four of us."

So ----- Round two to me as well. I was scoring points but the future didn't sound too rosy. I gestured for her to carry on.

"The fact is James that I truly do love you and always will, but now Tom's back, everything's changed, hasn't it?"

"How's that?"

"I don't think I ever stopped loving him, James," my wife explained to me. "I'm so sorry James, but I'm in love with two men."

"Trouble is," I decided to remind her. "The other one has a bigger cock than your husband."

"James," she cried out. "I didn't mean to say that. I was angry and lost my temper and honestly didn't mean to say that."

"It's true though isn't it?"

"So what," Maddy sobbed. "What difference does that make? I've never complained about your performance and never will."

"Damn right you never will," I rebuffed her. "You never will because you'll never get the chance to compare us again."

"Please James," she continued desperately, not giving up. "Please just at least listen to what Tom and I have worked out. Please listen James."

I shrugged my shoulders, half agreeing to listen and in a more confident voice she carried on.

"We, Tom and I that is, thought that we could work out some arrangement between the three of us. I could keep on living here with you and Beth so that we'd be like a little family, and Tom would get a flat or something nearby."

"So that you could visit him I suppose," I asked in disbelief.

"Yes of course, but I'd spend most nights here with you James."

"But half the nights with him and his monster cock!"

"It's not a monster James, and it wouldn't be half the nights either," Maddy mumbled, realising that things weren't going well.

"You really expect me to go for that Maddy?" I asked quietly. "You get the best of both worlds. Tom gets his freedom with a regular supply of pussy, and I get to be the cuckold, probably supporting the lot of us."

"I guess not," she whispered. "Not when you put it that way."

"I tell you what Maddy," I began to offer. "You ring Tom now and tell him to bugger off back to Leeds, and I might, and I repeat might, take you back."

"Doesn't sound like a very promising offer to me James," Maddy replied sadly.

"It's the best I can do Maddy," I told her firmly, still very unsure that I even wanted her to go for it.

"I guess I'll have to pass then James."

"Close the door behind you when you leave won't you," I thought I'd ended it with.

"What about Beth?" Maddy then asked. "She'll have to live with me and Tom."

"Over my dead body Maddy," was my spiteful reply. I'd do anything to stop that happening.

"We'll see James," Maddy smiled at me. "If you think you can keep Beth, then you've got some surprises coming."

"Piss off Maddy," I spat at her hatefully. "Go back to your jailbird lover. No court in the world would give you custody while you're with that loser.

Maddy said nothing more, just stood up, walked out and left. Oh yes, and she did shut the front door, and in fact nearly took it off it's hinges.

Game set and match to me? I didn't think so. In fact I had an awful suspicion that the game had hardly started.

--------------------

I heard nothing from the pair of them for the next four or five days. It was a bit like sitting there in the trenches in the First World War, waiting for the next salvo or major attack to over-run me. I did take advantage of going to see a Tim, mate of mine who was also my solicitor, only to leave with my absolute certainty that any court in the world would award me custody of Beth, a little in tatters.

"Fifty-fifty," He advised me mournfully. "If she can prove she's in a stable relationship, then the court could come down on her side."

"But he's a bloody jailbird," I tried to point out. "He damn well murdered someone." Wasn't true of course, but even Tim didn't know that that.

"He killed someone in an accident James," my friend informed me. "He's paid his price to society, and has the same rights as anyone else. What's he like? Does he look a bit dodgy or anything? Is there anything we can use against him?"

"No idea," I had to admit. "I've never met him. Never seen him."

"Perhaps you should James."

---------------------

All this time I had been killing Beth with kindness and attention, coming up with a variety of excuses as to why her beloved Mummy wasn't there for her.

"When is Mummy coming home Daddy?" She asked me sleepily.

"Soon sweetheart," I told her, unable to face up to telling her the truth yet.

"I miss Mummy."

"So do I sweetheart," I replied with tears in my eyes as I cuddled her desperately. And I did! Oh God how I missed that woman.

------------------

I was to meet up with this Tom character more easily and perhaps sooner than I'd imagined, when I got a call from my pal to attend a meeting with 'the other parties' as he put it, and their solicitor.

I put on a brave front as I walked into the meeting, surprised to see what this Tom bugger actually looked like. Come on now, biker guy, Hell's Angel and all that. I'd expected Tom to be some greasy, longhaired waster. The tall, clean cut, fair haired, somewhat slim and athletic man that confronted me, took me by surprise.

"Hello James," he greeted me with a nervous smile on his face, as he held his hand out to shake my hand. "Sorry we have to meet like this. In fact I'm sorry about the whole damn thing."

Oh shit! I really wanted to hate the guy, and I found myself accepting his hand and shaking it. At least I didn't smile too much, and maybe this wouldn't be so difficult as I was expecting. Oh, how wrong I was.

"Mr Dawson," their solicitor, an overweight, smirky sort of bastard opened the proceedings. "It's obvious that your wife isn't going to accept you back, so there's no point in you pursuing that avenue."

Tim, my solicitor shoved his hand out to hold me back from taking a swing at the wally, and took up the challenge.

"I don't think my client is interested in that possibility either," he countered. "As far as we are concerned, it is just a matter of deciding your client's access to the daughter of the marriage. Obviously my client will be the primary carer and she will live with him, but he is prepared to grant reasonable access to his soon to be ex wife."

"Not that easy," fatty replied with a smile that would have done a crocodile credit. "My client --- That is my clients, have a superior claim to the child."

"Rubbish!" I cried out, but Tim motioned me to calm down again.

"The fact that my client Mrs Dawson is the mother of the child is not under dispute," fatty continued. "Are we agreed on that?"

Tim acknowledged the fact, giving me a funny look, as puzzled as I was by the line the other guy was taking.

"Then we also have to acknowledge who the father is," the bugger continued, and this time Tim had to physically restrain me from confronting the arsehole.

"My clients maintain that Mr Dawson is not the father of the child, but that her former boyfriend, Mr Thomas Wellings is the father."

Tom? Tom is Beth's father? What bloody nonsense is that? I was so shocked that I just sat there with my mouth gaping open.

"We have documented proof, by way of medical evidence that Mr. Wellings is ninety nine point nine per cent certain to be the child's natural born father. We also have complimentary evidence that your client Mr. Dawson couldn't possibly be the father."

"What rubbish are you saying," I screamed at the fat bastard. "Beth is my daughter. I was there when she was born and I've bought her up. I .... I ....."

"Apparently not Mr Dawson," fatty cut across me. "You may have bought her up as your daughter, but you are not her real father. My client Mr. Wellings is."

"But that's not possible," I protested. "He was in prison when Maddy got pregnant. I was there when she was born for Christ's sake. It's just not possible."

"My clients have explained that Mr. Dawson," he carried on in a monotone. "Apparently you were away in Canada when Mr. Wellings' mother died, and he was granted compassionate leave from prison to attend her funeral. My client Mrs. Dawson, at that time Miss Jones, also attended the funeral, and they .... Well, let's say they had the opportunity to re-acquaint themselves."

I felt the room begin to spin as I took in what he was telling me. I couldn't believe it, but somehow deep down I realised it could be possible. I was dark and, well, sort of stocky. Beth was growing up to be tall and slim and fair haired, just like ..... Just like .... Just like her Dad!

Oh shit!

As the room reeled around me, Maddy burst into tears and ran from the room. Tom got up to follow her, but hesitated.

"I'm sorry James," he said to me. "I swear to you Maddy had no idea that you weren't Beth's father till she started to grow up and looked like me."

"Does that excuse her?" I shouted at him. "Does that make fucking you when she was virtually engaged to me acceptable?"

"No," he agreed quietly, shaking his head. "Maddy's got no excuse for her behaviour, but I love her, always have, and .... and ..... Oh hell James ---- I'm just so sorry."

With that, he turned on his heels and followed Maddy out of the office.

"Well Mr. Dawson," the fat solicitor started up again. "Can we get some agreement here? I've got a busy day, so if we could come to some suitable terms perhaps."

Before I could react, Tim leapt to his feet a yelled at the other solicitor.

"Shut up you miserable bastard. You say one more word and I swear I'll ram your nose through the other side of your face myself."

"Not very professional," commented fatty snottily, but he stood up, gathered his papers and hurriedly shuffled out of the office. "You'll be hearing from me."

"Sorry James," my pal, my personal legal eagle sighed at me when he'd gone. "I didn't see that one coming."

No, nor did I.

My story doesn't end there, but it might be worth mentioning at this point, that the view of Maddy's back as she had rushed out of that office, was the last time I ever clapped eyes on her. If I'd known that then, perhaps my actions over the next period of time might have been different, but then again on reflection ---- perhaps not.

--------------------

Tim rang his secretary and told her to cancel everything for the rest of the day, and despite her protestations, he gathered me up as it were, and virtually dragged me off in a daze to the nearest pub. There the pair of us sank the first three pints in the time it took to order them, and over the next hour or so, somewhat mysteriously, five or six of my best pals turned up to help me drink myself into oblivion. Can't remember the end of the evening or leaving. Can't remember much of the next day for that matter, my first coherent thought being the following morning, waking up in a strange bed with an equally strange but very attractive female body cuddled up to me.

I never quite worked out what the arrangement was, but if anyone paid her then it certainly wasn't me. Either way, the girl disappeared and I never saw her again. Or perhaps I did, but unless she was naked with the tattoo of a rose on her naughty bits, then I simply wouldn't have recognised her if she'd been right there in front of me.

I guess that's what good friends are for!

I won't pretend that a black cloud descended on me and I withdrew from the world. I'm the sort of guy who thinks his beer glass is half full, rather than half empty, and with that positive attitude I set forth to make a life for myself. OK, the black cloud was there sure enough, but I did try my best. I dated everything that came my way, whether pretty or not, but found myself going for women with children, single mothers or divorced. As you may imagine this made me pretty popular and I got my just reward pretty frequently, but the only one of them that I started to grow feelings for, dumped me when she accused me of only wanting me for her daughter. That's right, I was trying, perhaps too hard, to replace my daughter Beth. I was trying to find a partner with a Beth substitute.

Crazy? Yes I know, but that's how it got to me.

Eventually I recognised my problem and I attempted to regulate it. It cut down on the number of women I dated, but that was no bad thing. What about Beth herself you may ask quite reasonably. And yes, I did insist on access to her, despite there being no actual blood connection between us.

But that was a damn disaster!

Maddy and Tom had moved back to Leeds and I had to travel up one week end to visit with her. Neither Maddy or Tom had raised any objection to be fair to them, and indeed had done everything to make my trip easier. It was Tom that I talked to every time I rang, and it was Tom that greeted me when I arrived to pick up Beth, Maddy having, perhaps wisely made herself scarce.

But it didn't go well.

Poor Beth was just so confused and spent the whole day trying to persuade me to come and live with them, unable at her tender age to understand just how unlikely that was to ever happen. She just went on and on about it, and couldn't accept that Daddy didn't love Mummy anymore, repeatedly telling me how nice 'Daddy Tom' was, and how happy I would be there. When I took her back she started crying when she realised that I was about to leave her, she clung on to me, bawling her eyes out and having a tantrum. In the end Tom had to pull her away from me and hold her while I ran from the house, my tears matching those of poor Beth.

It was terrible and broke my heart yet again, perhaps worse than previously. It was the most awful decision that I'd ever made in my life, but I vowed there and then that there would be no more visits. I couldn't put little Beth through that agony again, and I didn't think that I could put myself through it either. When I told Tom of my decision he actually tried to get me to change my mind, saying they'd do all they could to make it less traumatic next time, but deep down we both knew that it had to be for the best. Eventually we sort of agreed that I'd give it six months to give Beth time to settle down in her new life, and then we'd see. We agreed that, but we both knew what that really meant, and that was that for her sake, I would no longer feature in her life. Maybe when she was grown up, I promised myself. Maybe when she graduated or something. I promised myself all sorts of things, but the reality was that I was totally on my own again, memories of my wife and daughter being just that ---- memories!

I'll be forever grateful that I wasn't of a suicidal disposition.

---------------------

Life went on, as it has a tendency to do so, and my painful memories faded somewhat. Time, they say is a wonderful cure, but I can assure you that it is no miracle cure. You have to work at it and work at it I did, carving myself back out another new life. When the first Christmas came along I couldn't let it pass without doing something. I went out and bought a present for Beth and sent it off, not knowing how to sign it or say who it was from, not wanting to restart the old heartache. It was with some surprise that the week after Christmas I got a letter from Leeds. Yes Beth wrote me a little letter of thanks, and told me a few things about her life. Obviously some adult had helped her, and somehow I felt sure that the someone was Tom and not my ex wife. I did wonder if she even knew that the letter had been sent, but didn't let myself dwell on that possibility.

In the letter she called me 'Daddy James'.

I know that meant that I'd been relegated and that 'Daddy' was no doubt now Tom, but it actually cheered me up a whole load, confident that Beth had two parents that loved her, and that I had a name that she would maybe always remember me by.

Daddy James!

I continued to send her presents every birthday and Christmas, and continued to receive thank you letters from her and photographs, noticing with pride how her hand writing improved over the next couple of years or so. Often Tom would pop a little note in himself just to tell me about how well she was doing at school or dancing lessons or whatever, but no mention was ever made of me visiting again. I must have harboured secret hopes that we would meet up again soon, but after a year or so, Beth mentioned her little baby brother in one or her letters and I accepted that I'd better not push my involvement any further. Tom and Maddy then had two children, and I was no part of that family.

--------------

Now not surprisingly my pal Tim's wife had a friend. Well, she had quite a few friends of course, but you know what I mean. Her name was Sally, she was a solicitor, a couple of years younger than me, dark haired and slim with the most fantastic pair of legs I ever did see. The fact that I'm even mentioning her here obviously means that Sally became something special, so many of our interests coinciding that it was as if we were always meant to be.

Eventually I popped the question. We were both divorced, gainfully employed and quite simply in love. Oh yes, the sex was pretty damn good as well in case you were wondering.

"Oh James," she answered me a big smile on her face. "I'd love to......"

But there was a but! Unspoken, but unquestionably a 'but'.

"What's up Sally?" I asked, surprised to be honest that there might be a 'but'.

"I know your history James," she replied quietly. "You'll want children, won't you?"

"Of course I will Sally," I grinned back at her. "At least two, maybe more."

"But I can't have children James," she shocked me with. "That's why my last marriage broke up. My ex was desperate to have a son to keep his family line going."

"You never told me that," I whispered, remembering that her ex husband David had been some sort of minor Baronet or something, which is why a son would be so important. "Who's fault was it?"

"Oh mine James. We were tested and David was OK, but my eggs weren't quite what they should be. Not impossible, but not very likely."

"And he ended your marriage just for that?" I asked in surprise. "David always seemed such a nice reasonable sort of guy whenever I've met him."

"No, it wasn't just that," Sally answered me a little sadly. "But it was that little problem that led to the arguments and eventually ...... Well, eventually to our divorce."

"I'm so sorry Sally. I didn't have a clue. Couldn't you have adopted or something?"

"I would have but David's family were dead set against it and in the end it drove a wedge between us."

"Sad," I commented.

"Very sad," she agreed. "But then I wouldn't have met you, would I?"

"So you will marry me then," I sprung on her.

The conversation went on, Sally worrying that she didn't want another marriage failing for the same reason, and me trying to assure her that I would accept it. We talked about possible adoption or other artificial means, that Sally with her past history knew a lot more about than me. In truth, there really were an awful lot of things to think about, and neither of us were getting any younger.