Back to Bristol Ch. 05

Then suddenly she stirred, raising herself and leaning right across me, I watched as she set the bedside alarm for 05:00. As she resumed her snuggled position, she kissed me on the lips, "I want to sleep in your arms, but that'll leave plenty of time for a shower and for us to talk." And she settled again, before turning over but still holding onto my arm.

"But don't the boys need collecting from school?"

"No. Susan's collecting them. They'll stay there tonight."

We snuggled into a spoon position, with her holding onto my arm as it was draped over her. I lay there quietly, and soon Molly's breathing became even and steady as she fell asleep.

I tried moving my arm, but even in her sleep Molly just gripped me tighter. I lay there, still trying to understand, going over my lunch with Molly, looking for clues as to why I'd ended up in her bed, beyond the obvious conclusion that I was a randy man who had been feeling that way all day. But why had she suddenly invited me to be here?

I did have one naughty, idle thought: wouldn't it be a pity if Peter came home early! But then, I began to feel sleepy and I think I gently dozed.

I woke up suddenly, something had wakened me. I scrabbled backwards in my mind, trying to recapture the noise. It was outside, it sounded like a door closing, probably a neighbour. I wasn't totally relaxed in a strange bed in a strange house, simple things disturbed me. There it is again, this time I did here a door shut. I looked at the alarm clock beside the bed, it was 04:44. I lay there, listening, hardly daring to breathe.

Now there were footsteps on the stairs. Molly was still sleeping peacefully, but she had relaxed her grip on my arm, so that I could pull it back. I feigned sleep, but I heard the bedroom door open. And then I heard to strangled gasp.

I stirred, then there was an "Oh, Molly!" that was so full of anguish it was pitiful.

I stirred again and rolled over to lie on my back and open an eye. It was Peter, standing in the doorway ....no, leaning on the wall by the door. His face was white, his lips were quivering, and his eyes were wide open and staring. He was looking wide-eyed at the bed and its occupants, but he seemed focussed on Molly.

I groaned, "Oh, Fuck!"

Peter's eyes swivelled from Molly to briefly focus on me, "You!.....Chris!....You .... you bastard!"

Molly stirred, and then her eyes opened, she focused slowly, "Wha... Oh! Peter! What are you doing home so early?"

A reasonable question, I thought. But I also thought 'I shouldn't be here.'

Suddenly I felt my whole thought processes shift, from problem to opportunity, I made a show of looking round, "You know what they say, two's company, three's a crowd. Well, we've done the two's company bit. I guess I should leave, I don't want you two to feel crowded."

I threw the quilt back, not only off my naked body, but half off Molly's as well. I wanted him to have no misunderstanding. I hoped he could see the wet patch on the sheets between us as well.

Peter, suddenly bent down and picked up a lacy black thong, he held it out to Molly, "I bought this set for you. You never wore it for me. You told me that only silly young sluts and prostitutes wear things like this." Every word he spoke had pain, humiliation and hurt in it.

I got out of bed. I needed to get dressed quickly. But I wanted to keep my eye on Peter, just in case he tried to take a pop at me. He had his glasses on, so I had hopes that he wouldn't turn violent, but I had to concede he was under some stress. I slipped my shorts and then trousers on.

I risked glancing at Molly. She had pulled the quilt back over herself, but she was watching me. I couldn't read the look in her eyes. It was questioning I think, almost pleading, but I couldn't work it out, and she wasn't saying a word.

I slipped my shirt on, I didn't button it up, I just tucked it into my trousers. I picked up my socks from the floor, and stuffed them into my trouser pockets. I slipped my feet into my shoes and picked up my jacket and tie from a chair where I'd thrown them.

Peter was slumped, still shocked, against the wall. I noticed a tear rolling down one cheek. He was just staring at Molly, who was still looking at me, pleading with her eyes.

I stepped towards Peter. He slightly cringed, as if he was afraid of me. I leant into his face, and quietly, but clearly said, "Matthew 7:12"

I went down stairs and left.

'This is bloody stupid!' I thought, and I smiled wryly to myself. Here I am, the Managing Director of a major local company, and I'm putting on my socks and buttoning up my shirt in some suburban car park, having been caught in bed by the husband. It's a bloody farce!

Then I thought about the last few moments of the scene. I was quite proud of myself that I'd managed to think clearly, and I silently thanked The Old Man for teaching me some Bible quotes. Matthew 7:12, roughly translated as 'Do unto them as you would have yourself be done by.' Well, Peter did unto me, and now he's been done by! And it bloody hurts, doesn't it, Peter?