American Dream

I walked off with my head in the clouds, checking to see that I still had time. It would be tight, but I took out my mobile phone while I was walking out to the car park, and dialled my home number.

It rang --- well it would wouldn't it?

But then it rang and rang and rang.

No answer. I checked the time, and found that it was two minutes after the time I had originally said I would get back home.

By then I had reached my car, and as I stuck the key in the ignition, I auto dialled Jodie's mobile. I hadn't even put the car in gear when she answered.

"Where the fuck are you?" She shouted down the phone.

"On my way home sweetheart," I replied. "And wait till you hear what I've got to tell you."

"Bugger you Dave you bastard," she interrupted me. "You don't care a damn about me do you?"

I was lost for words for a moment, but unfortunately she wasn't.

"Your bloody job --- that's all that you think about. You don't care shit about me. I've had to ring up Terry to give me a lift to the airport because I knew you wouldn't turn up on time."

Terry? --- Ah yes that would be Terry Jones, the art teacher that she works with. Flash bastard who thinks he knows it all.

The fact that it had been him that Jodie had traded kisses with when I'd pissed her off before, hardly endeared him to me.

"Jodie," I implored her. "I'm virtually on our road now, and I'm only three or four minutes later than I said."

"Tough Dave," Jodie replied. "I'm already half way to the airport. If you're not here then I'm going without you."

She cut the connection, and despite me attempting to ring her back, there was no response.

I checked the time and thought how stupid all this was. I still had plenty of time to get to the airport and book in, so I turned the car round and headed off towards Standsted, arriving there much as I had predicted with at least half an hour to spare.

I parked, took my parking ticket and made my way through to the departure terminal, hoping that at least Jodie had thought to take my case with her.

I looked; I searched, but could not find her, and by then time was getting short. Eventually I went to the departure desk and asked if my wife had already registered.

"Oh yes here it is," the pretty blonde said after searching her list. She booked in about fifteen minutes ago --- a Mrs. Martin and a Mr. Jones. They've got seats numbers 24 b and c."

WHAT!

My initial reaction frightened the poor girl, and I had to apologise for my outburst.

"There must be some mistake," I claimed. "Mrs. Martin, but not Mr. Jones."

The girl could see that I was pretty upset about something, and double-checked everything for me.

"No, that's correct," she confirmed to me at last. "The tickets were booked in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Martin, but Mrs. Martin changed one of them to Mr. Jones."

"Can she do that?" I mumbled unable to believe what I'd heard.

"Yes," replied the girl, beginning to take pity on me, realising that some odd event was taking place. "There would be a forty pound charge for doing so, but she apparently paid that."

I stood there like some refugee or something, not knowing what to say, or what to do.

"He had his passport with him Mr. Martin," She added apologetically. "So everything seemed above board."

I thanked her for her trouble, and shambled unhappily away from the desk.

What was going on? What the hell was she up to? This had beyond a joke.

Looking at the departures board, it immediately became apparent that the plane hadn't taken off yet, and for that matter they hadn't even boarded. I rushed along to try to get to the boarding gate, but couldn't get passed the counter into the departure lounge.

No boarding ticket --- no entry. That was clear.

I argued and cajoled, but when it became obvious that they were going to call security, I gave up, went to the bar, and sat there with my head in my hands.

I couldn't believe it --- I just couldn't believe it ---- my world had been turned upside down in the space of half an hour.

Jodie couldn't --- no she couldn't really be going to Spain with that bloody Terry Jones in my place.

It wasn't possible.

Please some one tell me that it just wasn't possible, and that I was having a dream.

Then I had an idea. Not a good one as it turned out, but it seemed so at the time.

Rushing over to the other side of the airport, I eventually arrived at the observation lounge. In years gone by it would maybe have been an open terrace, but in these days of terrorism, we had to look out at the planes through huge plate glass windows.

To my complete surprise I spotted her. My wife, my Jodie, making her way across the tarmac towards a waiting Boeing 737. I couldn't miss her of course, few women having flowing blonde hair, and such a trim figure as she did.

Then I saw bloody Jones get out of the courtesy bus behind her, and follow her towards the waiting plane.

When he caught up with her I totally lost my rag, as even at that distance I could hardly miss it as he put his arm around her slim waist, any more than I could miss her, as she leant back and kissed him on the cheek.

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

The security guards were, I suppose, just doing their job.

I know I shouldn't have hammered like a crazy man on the glass window, and I shouldn't have shouted the way that I did.

There was absolutely no chance that they could have heard me anyway at the distance they were, and in any case Jodie never so much as glanced back.

They eventually released me from the detention centre with no charges when they decided that I was no longer any potential threat to other passengers, and I sullenly made my way back to my car.

I tried Jodie's mobile, but of course it was a waste of time.

What a mess --- what a bloody mess!

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

I think I cried that night, but I'm not sure because I was so drunk by the time I staggered home from the local pub, that I couldn't be sure of anything.

I couldn't even ring her in Spain as I had no number and her mobile wouldn't work in a foreign country.

About midday the next day, I came to my senses, the phone ringing loudly by my side. I realised that I had fell asleep on the sofa, cuddling the phone close up to me.

Why? --- I have no idea.

"Hello," I mumbled into the mouthpiece, not knowing what to expect.

"Is that you John?" Came the strident tones of my wife, sounding just like the schoolteacher that she was.

"Yes," I answered simply.

"Well?"

"Well what?" I replied.

"No apologies then you bastard," Jodie spat out at me. "Don't you care that you've let me down again?"

"I've let you down?" Came my query, but she went on and on about how I didn't care for her feelings, and thought more about my work than I did for her.

"What about when you didn't turn up for dinner with our new neighbours because of some silly problem at your school," I reminded her rather pointlessly. "And anyway I got to the airport on time."

"That's different Dave, and you know it," she shouted down the line at me, though from my point of view it certainly wasn't.

I realised that we were just screaming at one another to no purpose, and tried to change my tack. Having just woken up I hadn't fully regained all my senses, and forgotten half of what had happened the evening before, and tried to tell her about the offer from Butch.

"Jodie," I said more levelly. "There's something I have to tell you about my job. I've been offered ....."

"There you go again," Jodie set off again. "Your job --- your bloody job --- that's all you ever think about. What about me, here on my own in Spain?"

It was only then that it all came flooding back to me, and suddenly my love for Jodie felt as if it was beginning to dissolve.

"On your own Jodie?" I queried. "And what about Terry bloody Jones?"

She went quiet at the other end, obviously stunned that I knew he was with her.

"What about him?" She asked in a quieter tone.

"Are you still in bed with him then?" I went on.

There was another period of silence, and then she answered.

"What if I am? You deserve it you bastard. It's all your fault."

"Good fuck was he then?" I asked spitefully.

"Better than you Dave," Jodie answered back nastily. "So eat your heart out Mr. Nobody."

The line cut as she replaced the phone, or more likely as it happened slammed it down.

If my marriage wasn't already dead, then maybe, just maybe that last comment finished it.

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

The following morning, though not too early, found me in George's office discussing the new job. He was a bit surprised that I wasn't in Spain, but I avoided giving him a direct answer.

"Why didn't you mention it?" I demanded.

"I couldn't," he protested. "Not before he had met you properly and decided that you were the man."

"Thanks a lot," I went on. "Perhaps that has cost me my marriage."

I proceeded to tell him my tale of woe, but to my surprise he didn't express any great surprise.

"The husband is always the last one to know Dave," George at last managed to inform me.

"What's that meant to mean?"

"Nothing too specific Dave," he expanded. "But the last couple of company events, your wife Jodie has been ---- well let's say putting herself around."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

But he just shrugged his shoulders and I slowly came to my own conclusions.

God damn it! Who was this woman that I'd loved and been married to for all those years?

"Wait till you see Mai-Lin," George remarked with a smile on his face, trying to change the subject.

"May who?" I asked, not taking too much interest with the other problems I had.

"Mai-Lin, she's every men's wet dream."

"Wet dream?" I queried, totally lost.

"She's your new secretary --- sorry, personal assistant," he delighted in informing me. "An Asian-American, I met her the other month when I was out there."

I just stared at him.

"Lucky bastard," he said wistfully. "You wait till you see her. You lose one you gain one."

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The next few days passed in a bit of a haze, partly because of my marital problems, and also at the speed that my transfer was taking place. As keen as the one was to get me out there and working for him, then the other was also pushing, so that the license could be formalised. I felt as if my feet were hardly touching the floor.

Then Jodie rang again. I knew she would, and somehow I knew it would be mid morning.

"Hi lover," she greeted me. "Thought I'd ring you to let you know how wonderful it is here."

"I have something to tell you Jodie... " I started as before.

"Never mind that lover," she interrupted me yet again. "Are you ready to apologise yet for your attitude sweetie-pie."

"Look Jodie," I tried to say, ignoring her stupid comments. "I really have something to tell ..."

"Sorry lover," Jodie broke in, though I made no great effort to over ride her. "I still love you dearly, and when you're ready to say sorry, then we'll get on with our lives, but meanwhile I've got someone else to keep happy."

I simply put the phone down, though I'm not sure whether she beat me to it.

Jodie had sounded drunk. Not like pissed out of her mind drunk, but beyond trying to get anything sensible out of her. If she thought screwing the art teacher was more important than a chance of us having a future together, then that was her problem, not mine.

The week continued --- the most extraordinary week of my life. On the one hand the most exciting, and the other the saddest. Where would it end up?

The next call from Jodie was more of a surprise, coming in the early hours of the morning.

"Hello Dave," she mumbled. "I've been thinking. How did you know Terry was here with me?"

"I saw you together getting on the plane," I told her, trying to gather my sleep infected brain into shape, astonished that she should ring me at that hour to ask me such a question.

"You were there Dave -- you were really there?"

"Of course I was there Jodie," I told her my temper beginning to rise. "How the bloody hell do you think I knew that that creep Jones was with you?"

"Why didn't you stop us Dave? Why didn't you do something?"

"Do what," I said, nearly shouting down the phone. "I got there in time for the flight but you'd already taken the tickets and gone through with your bloody boyfriend, and they wouldn't let me through. I ended up getting arrested!"

"But I thought you weren't coming Dave. Terry gave me a lift to the airport, and in a fit of temper I asked him to come with me. Honestly, I didn't know you were there honey."

"And your damn friend Terry just happened by chance to have his luggage and passport with him did he?" I stung her with.

"Oh shit --- oh Dave I ...." But I put the phone down on her before she could continue.

I think she rang me several times more, but I either wasn't in, being far too busy making arrangements, or perhaps just didn't answer.

Eventually a few days later, I picked up.

"Hi, is that you Dave?" I heard.

"Yes Jodie, it's me," I replied. "What do you want?"

"You Dave, I want you. Terry has been such a bastard and I need you."

I mumbled something incoherent.

"I got back to my room last night, and he had some floozy in there with him," Jodie cried.

"Well how awful for you."

"Can you imagine that," she went on, missing the sarcasm in my remark. "How could someone do something like that Dave?"

"Difficult to imagine," I replied, trying not to laugh.

"To go off with someone else like that behind my back though," she mumbled, and I realised that she was a bit drunk yet again. "How could he?"

"No accounting for folk," I responded in the most sympathetic tone that I could muster.

"Dave, I'm coming home early. I can't stand it here anymore. I get back to Heathrow tomorrow at four o'clock. It was the only flight I could get --- can you pick me up?"

I started to say no, when it suddenly occurred to me that I could.

Of course I could.

"See you at four o'clock," I said curtly.

"Were you trying to tell me something the other day when I phoned Dave," she surprised me with. "Something about your job was it?"

"Oh nothing important Jodie," I told her. "I don't want to bother you with my work."

She'd find out anyway in due course.

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

I was ready for her by two thirty, and a bit pissed off when her plane landed twenty minutes late. When she came through the arrivals gate I was waiting there like a dutiful husband. I'm quite sure I even had a smile on my face.

"Hi Dave my sweetie, it's so great to see you," she called out as she saw me there, and dropping her case wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with all the vigour she could manage.

I have to say, she did look fantastic. A suntan always suited Jodie, and her blonde hair set it off. The thought that her breasts were probably also brown ran through my mind, and despite myself I felt myself rising to the occasion.

"Let's get home sweetie," Jodie whispered to me." I've missed you so much, and can't wait to get you into bed and make up with you."

All thoughts of an apology from me seemed to have gone by the board. She loved me again so it seemed.

"Let's have a coffee or a cup of tea first," I suggested.

"No let's get straight home," my wife urged.

"No a drink first," I insisted, and guided her to a café nearby.

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

"Good holiday Jodie?" I enquired, having got a coffee for her and a tea for myself.

"Started ok," she replied quietly. "Sorry if I over reacted a bit."

"Terry not as good in the sack as you thought he would be then?"

Jodie looked up at me sadly, and a single tear rolled slowly down her cheek.

"Not really," she started to tell me. "Then I caught the bastard in bed with one of the maids. In my bed ---- in my room."

I neglected to point out that they had been sharing the room in question, and that in any case, strictly speaking, it had been our bed and our room. It was me who had paid for the damn holiday.

"Can you believe that Dave?" she went on. "We were supposed to be on holiday together and he went off and fucked someone else and left me on my own."

"That must have been difficult for you my dear," I sympathised. After all, I knew how she felt.

"Any way, bugger him. He'll get what he deserves. Can we go home now please Dave? I'm desperate to make it up to you."

I attempted to tell her that I had tried several times to inform her of my news, but that each time she had cut me off.

"That can wait Dave," she interrupted yet again. "Let's get home and you can tell me on the way."

I didn't have to think about it really. My mind was already long since made up.

"Here's the keys to the car Jodie," I told her, having come in her old car, my company car having gone back to Alscans the day before. "And here's the keys to the house. They're all yours."

"Ours' you mean Dave, don't you?"

"No just yours' Jodie, just yours'," I explained to her. "The titles have all been made over to you and the bills are all paid till the end of the month. If you decide to sell it, then there should just about be enough money left over to pay for another couple of weeks in Spain."

Jodie looked at me blankly, not understanding what I was telling her.

"And by the way, I noticed that one of your tyres is almost bald, and there's a funny noise coming from the gear box."

Jodie continued to look at me blankly.

"What I was trying to tell you Jodie," I went on. "Is that I've been offered a fantastic job in America. Great salary, superb benefits -- everything I've ever dreamed of."

A huge smile came to Jodie's face, as she took in the news.

It saddened me somewhat.

"When do we go out there?" she asked enthusiastically, forgetting our conversation of a few moments earlier.

"I'm leaving on a BA flight in forty minutes Jodie," I told her.

"Have you got a ticket for me as well?" She asked excitedly.

"No" I replied.

"When will I follow you out then?" Jodie went on.

"You don't Jodie," I told her. "I'm sorry, but you don't."

Ten minutes later, I passed into the departure lounge on my own, leaving Jodie, crying her heart out at the counter, beyond which the authorities would not let her pass.

My last sight of ---- ever! ---- Was her tear stained face as she stood there watching me walk out of her life.

Ironically, it was a sense of 'deja-vue', except that the tables were turned completely. Only ten days or so before it had been me stood at the desk and barred from following the person that I had loved.

Different airport and different destination, but I'm sure the heartbreak was at least as bad.

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

FORWARD NINE YEARS, THREE MONTHS AND SIX DAYS.

I was back at Heathrow, in the very same terminal that I had left from all those years before.

Not by any means the first time I had been back, but this time I had been there for two weeks, and was planning to stay much longer.

The licensing agreement with Butch's company in Huntingdon, USA, had been an unmitigated success, and I rose through the ranks to be the Coe of that division of his company, and the holder of a large block of shares.

Butch had long since become a personal friend, and in yet another twist of fate, it had been through him that George had approached me to go back to the UK and take over as managing Director of Alscans.

He was retiring, the company had grown hugely since I had left, much of it due to the relationship with us in America, who had been able to open their products to a much larger market. It made sense for everyone, and especially me, as along with the post I would eventually be acquiring a substantial chunk of that company as well.

I waited at the arrivals area for an old colleague from Butch's company who had helped me tremendously from the very beginning. Though no longer actually working there, it was a joy to know that they would be joining me in the UK.