It Was Something in Her Voice

The directors all looked at each other, and then at Phil Tremit, waiting for his lead. "I suspect we are all a little scared to lose you, Greg. But, we think it's the right time for Tom to move up, but we had hoped you'd be around a little more than that."

"Oh! Don't worry about that. I want to do a lot more travelling with Susan. There are so many exciting places that neither of us have ever seen, and so many exciting things to do when we get there. But, with a satellite phone and an Internet connection in every hotel I go into these days, I'll always be contactable. All you need do is phone me, or email me. Get me the right phone and a new laptop and I'll always be with you. And anyway, except for public holidays, I'll be here for thirty two weeks of the year. How about a five year contract?" Greg looked around the room.

The directors looked at each other, not sure what to say. Greg broke the impasse, "Look, I'll leave you for a few minutes. Talk amongst yourselves, and let me know. I'll be in my office." Greg stood up and walked through the double doors that led to his office. Tom left by the other door, saying "I think I should withdraw, as I could be a beneficiary of your decision."

Greg sat at his desk, smiling to himself. No one had questioned the full pay part of his deal. And he had expected to have to offer at least a twenty five percent drop in salary to get them to agree to this if he had proposed it without Phil having been motivated to raise the issue.

Within five minutes, Phil Tremit knocked on his office door, and asked Greg to rejoin the meeting. "Greg, I hope you will be pleased to hear that we would like to fully approve your generous offer. And I'd like to add my personal thanks for handling what could have been a very delicate conversation so tactfully."

Greg turned to Tom Gould who was just coming through the door, and slapping him on the back, "Congratulations, Tom, it's all yours." And there was five minutes general bonhomie all round before the meeting resumed with the original agenda.

After the meeting, Greg had a few minutes conversation with Tom, to arrange some immediate handover details, but put the majority of that off until the next day. Then he sat at his desk and allowed himself to daydream. Balloon Safari in Kenya? St. Petersburg? Railway through the Rockies? The Taj Mahal? River boat down the Nile? The Great Wall of China? Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco? A cruise of the Pacific? Drive across the Australian Desert to Alice Springs? Bungee Jumping in New Zealand? White water rafting somewhere? Hill Walking in Nepal to Everest Base Camp? Ah! Now that's more like it, something a bit challenging as well as the usual tourist stuff. After all he was only fifty, and very fit. Some adventure, that's what he needed, with Susan at his side, and now he had the money and time to do it. Life was definitely looking up.

His thoughts drifted to Susan, his life partner for twenty seven years and his wife for twenty five of them. At forty eight, Susan was still a sexy and fine looking woman. Maybe a little heavier than on her wedding day, she had to work hard to hold her weight. And he knew she had to visit the hairdresser more often than she once did to keep any grey hairs from ever showing. But he was still proud of her. She would be delighted that he'd honoured his promise to take things a bit easier and have more time with her, even if it wasn't full retirement. Tonight they would celebrate!

Greg decided that he would start his new life with a big surprise for Susan. No, with two big surprises for Susan. First, he'd go home early, that would be a surprise. Second he would book a two week holiday somewhere warm and sunny and romantic, where they could relax and really talk about their plans for their future.

Greg got home at about six o'clock, with a bottle of Champagne in his hand and a confirmed booking for two weeks in the Seychelles in his pocket. He called out for Susan, but she was upstairs, saying she'd be down in a second. Greg put the Champagne in the fridge, and as he was coming out of the kitchen, Susan was coming down the stairs.

Greg greeted her with a kiss as he took her in his arms. "Hi! Had a good day?" he asked, deciding that he would hold back on his news until dinner, a better setting to discuss the future, and to surprise her with the Seychelles trip.

"Hi, darling, what brings you home so early? Not that I'm not pleased."

"Oh, I'll tell you about it later. It was a big day for company politics. And at the end of it I decided to come home early." Greg answered as he headed into the sitting room.

He sat down in his usual chair and noticed the television had a little red light on, it was on stand-by. Not really unusual, there was no reason why Susan shouldn't watch a little day time television, but she rarely did, and he was sure that he had turned it all off properly as he went to bed last night. Well, let's flick it on, he didn't usually get to see what was on at this time of day. It was on a sports channel. Now that was unusual. Not impossible, Susan might have watched some tennis if there was any on, but unlikely. The television came to life with a golf tournament somewhere in the world. They were about to take a tee shot, Greg's eyes became glued to the screen, he couldn't help but watch.

"One of your boyfriends left it on golf." he said without much thought. Her fictitious boyfriends and his fictitious obsession with the fictitious blonde barmaid at the Golf Club were two of their private jokes. From within their secure relationship, it's easy to joke about such things.

"Oh! I let them watch it while they're waiting. You know, when there's a queue of them, waiting their turn with me in the bedroom." Susan replied.

In the coming weeks, Greg would go over that reply time and time again. Was it that she hesitated? Or that there was a slight inflection in her voice? Or a false emphasis? He never could work it out. But after twenty seven years of love and partnership he knew it was false. He just knew, it was something in her voice.

He stood up and turned to look at her. She stared back at him, slightly challenging him and trying to half smile. Eventually, she looked away, "How about a drink before dinner?"

After twenty seven years of love and partnership, she knew when he knew she was lying.

He continued to look at her, she turned to look back at him, and her face said it all. She looked shocked and guilty and hurt, all at the same time. There was a boyfriend!

Greg suddenly felt his stomach tighten, and his heart was hammering at the walls of his chest, But he found his voice first, "I'll go and pack some cases. We can talk later." And he just walked out of the room and upstairs.

He was just trying to get two suits too many in a garment carrier when she came into the bedroom. "Greg, we must talk. Please. I've been in such a muddle, my thoughts are in turmoil, but I know that I love you. So please Greg, let's talk."

Greg looked at her, there were tears pouring down her face, silently. "We can talk, in a few days. Then we can decide what we both want to do." He noticed that his voice was rasping with unexpressed emotion.

"Don't go, please Greg." She pleaded, stepping forward towards him.

For the first time in his adult life, Greg wanted to shout at her, genuinely shout at her, but he knew that would be alien to himself and to their whole relationship. "Who and how long?" was all he said.

"David Shiner, you've never met him." She whispered, but Greg heard it as if she was shouting.

"David Shiner? No, I don't think I have, but I'm sure I've heard the name, perhaps you have mentioned him. And?" Greg went back to stuffing the suits into the bag.

"And what?"

"And how long has this been going on?" Greg picked up a large suitcase and laid it open on the bed, and he went over to his chest of drawers.

"We met about four months ago, but we've really only got to know each other in the last month. And it's only been physical in the last two weeks." Susan's voice remained a whisper.

"Two weeks, eh? So how many times is that? One? Two? Three?" Greg asked, with an ugly edge in his voice now, although it remained soft and quiet.

"Four."

"Four. Oh."

Greg went on packing in silence. Susan just stood and watched, silent tears running down her cheeks. Both were silent, maybe neither knowing what to say. Eventually Greg had packed and zipped up the suitcase. He lifted it off the bed, and stood and looked at Susan.

"I'll go to the River House Hotel. At this time of year the season must be over, I guess they'll have a room. If they don't then I'll let you know."

"Oh, please Greg. Please, let's talk. This is ridiculous, you can't just walk out on twenty five years of marriage without even talking." Susan had at least stopped crying.

Greg looked at her, "We'll talk in a day or two." She just looked at him, she was pale, red-eyed, and her mouth was quivering. "Do you love me, Susan?" he asked.

"Yes, Greg. I love you, you are my husband and my life."

"Well then, when we do talk, you can start by explaining to me how you reconcile climbing into another man's bed, not once but four times, with that professed love for me; with your own religious beliefs; with your wedding vows given whilst you stood at an altar and in front of our friends and family. Start by explaining that, Susan. And if you can't do it to your own satisfaction, then don't bother to even try with me."

Greg put the carrying strap of his suit carrier over his shoulder, and picked up his suitcase. In doing so, he pushed his suit jacket almost off his shoulder, and a white envelope fell on the floor. Susan bent down to pick it up, "What's this? You dropped it."

Greg glanced at it, "It's confirmation of a holiday for the two of us to the Seychelles starting in the week after next. I bought it for you as a surprise. I agreed my part time contract today. We were going to go travelling, to see the world, to meet new people and do new things. It seems you beat me to some of that, Sue. Pity!"

He took the envelope in his spare hand and brushed past her as he headed for the stairs. He staggered down stairs and out of the front door, with Susan watching him, and just mumbling "Please...Greg...Please..."

Greg Perry checked himself into the River House Hotel. The receptionist seemed nice and cheerful, and Greg managed some small talk with her as they sorted out his room.

"OK. Thank you. I'll take my bags up to the room, but do you think you could do me a very big favour?" he asked

"If I can, Sir. What is it?" she was still smiling.

"Could you get the bar to have a very very large gin and tonic sitting on the bar, when I get down again in about three minutes. I need one urgently."

"Well, why don't I arrange for someone else to take your bags up to the room, and you go and get that drink straight away?"

"I love you." said Greg, and headed for the bar.

After that large G&T, and introductions to George, the barman, who Greg felt he was going to get to know very well in the next few days, Greg went into the restaurant. He ordered himself a simple steak, medium cooked, and with a side salad. And a bottle of decent red wine.

The steak looked good, Greg thought. But he really couldn't give it a full review, not on the basis of only two mouthfuls, and the salad was only checked to the level of Greg tasting one piece of tomato. The waiter watched him, Greg drank some of his wine and stared at the picture over the fireplace.

Eventually, the waiter approached, "Have you finished Sir?"

Greg looked at him, a visitor from another planet, "Yes. I think so. You might as well take it away. My apologies to your chef."

"You're not hungry, Sir?"

"No, I've got rather a lot on my mind. Sorry."

"Well would you like something else, Sir?"

"No. I think I'll take that bottle of wine and my glass, and go and sit on your terrace and do some thinking. Is that OK?"

"Yes, Sir. But I think you'll find it rather chilly out there. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a frost tonight."

"Well, maybe the coldness will cut through to bring me some reality where food didn't." Greg smiled weakly and left with his bottle and glass.

Greg sat on a garden seat on the terrace, by the light of a few garden lamps. He was lost in thought. Questions went round and round in his head. Answers went round and round in his head. In that cycle some questions never got an answer, others got two or three different answers.

He poured the last of his wine into his glass and with glass and bottle in his hands he strolled down to the river bank. The river was black and silent as it slipped along only lit by some distant street lights on the town bridge far off down stream.

Greg began to feel anger rising in himself, not anger at Susan and this David, but anger at himself that he was getting nowhere in his thinking. He couldn't find any solid fact on which to start a logical thought process to what he should do next. Then somewhere from the gloom of the recesses of his brain came his business attitude. Susan had broken the contract!

He knew that he had 'loved and cherished' throughout his marriage. He thought, but was no longer sure, that she had. Certainly they had done the 'in sickness and in health' bit, thank God it had mainly been 'in health', the only sickness had been the occasional flu in winter and the common cold, and he'd sprained an ankle when he fell off a kerb once. He knew he'd 'forsaken all others', but she hadn't. She had broken the marriage vows, and the contract was dead. Divorce was only a matter of legal recognition of what already applied. The marriage was over, kaput.

That realisation cheered him up in some way, and to celebrate he threw his bottle into the glassy black river and could just make out it's slow drift towards the bridge and the sea, like some gentle, stately marker to his old life drifting away forever.

A problem is an opportunity. Susan and this David had suddenly opened up before him a total new freedom to choose his life from here onwards. What did he want? He could choose to try and reconcile with Susan, assuming she was willing to try, and they could call the divorce off. Or he could strike out on his own and build a whole new life. It was his choice, and except for an immediate, happy marriage, everything and anything was possible.

Greg walked back up to the bar, where he ordered himself a large whisky, and sat on a bar stool, watching George at work, and making small talk with him when he had a moment or two not serving. Slowly the evening crowd drifted to their beds, leaving Greg and George as the only two in the bar.

Greg looked around, recognising that George probably wanted to close, he slid his glass across the bar, "Put a large one in there, and I'll let you close up, George."

"Certainly, Sir." And George poured another double scotch through the optic and returned the glass to Greg. "My guess is, Sir, that some woman has let you down. Am I right?"

"Does it show that much?"

"Only to professional barmen, Sir. Do you want to talk about it?"

Greg took a large slug of whisky, and stood up. "Not tonight, George. Maybe I'll bore you with it tomorrow night." He drained his glass and slammed it down on the bar. Belched, and staggered to his room.

Greg fell into a restless sleep, but woke early. He stood at the window, looking at the river in the dawn light. He knew that he had to face Susan, to tell her that he would start immediate divorce proceedings. Only after that could they start to consider their futures, together or apart. He also knew that it would take a huge effort of control to have a civilised conversation with her, and not a bitter exchange of insults.

As soon as it was reasonable, Greg went down to breakfast. Now he was hungry, and he had a full English breakfast with plenty of cups of tea. Once he was finished, he strolled down to the river again, but purely for the privacy to phone his secretary and tell her he was going to be late to the office, but he didn't explain why.

Greg drove back to his house, a large and expensive house on the right side of town. Although he had a door key in his pocket, he rang the bell and waited. Susan opened the door, she was pale, her hair was a mess, she had no make up and she was still wearing a dressing gown.

"Hello, Susan. You look as if I've got you up. I'm sorry, maybe I'm a bit early."

Susan took one look at Greg, and stepped forward with her arms outstretched, "Oh, thank God! Greg!"

But Greg stepped backwards. It wasn't planned, it was an automatic reaction to shy away from this woman, once so well known and loved, but now a stranger. "I'm not here to make up, Susan. I just want a few moments of your time for a civilised talk."

Susan dropped her arms, and looked at him. "Yes, of course, I'm sorry." She turned back into the hall.

"Just a civilised talk, Susan. No hysterics. No tears. What is done is done. It is just a matter of what we are going to do now."

"Let's go into the kitchen, Greg. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Why not? Let's drink tea and talk about divorce. That sounds civilised doesn't it?" Greg sounded bitter, but then he was bitter.

In the kitchen it was Greg who set about making a pot of tea. Susan just sat at the kitchen table and watched him. She knew him well enough to know that she had no option but to wait until he talked.

Once the tea was made and Greg had laid it on the table, with cups and saucers and milk, he sat down and just looked at her, the woman who represented twenty seven years of his life.

"Oh, Greg. I'm so sorry. You were never meant to be hurt by this. Please, I promise you, we can get over it."

Greg looked at her, he felt that strong urge to shout, to really tell her what he thought of her, to show how much he hurt. But what would that gain him? Nothing. "I don't need to hear your self-justifying whines. I said, I want a civilised talk. It won't help if you just sit and blubber about how sorry you are. Anymore than if I tell you just how much I hate what you've done to us, and how I hate what a lying bitch I think you are, to not just make a mistake, but to go back and repeat it and repeat it and repeat it. That was cold blooded deliberate determination on your part, Susan, to do permanent damage to a happy trusting marriage of twenty five years. But you know that...." Greg swallowed, he had gone further than he ever intended, he must get control of his words.

If Susan was pale before Greg's outburst, she was paler now. She gasped in shock, and then sobbed, with tears coming to her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Susan. That was harsh. Truthful, but harsh. But maybe unnecessary. OK. Wipe your eyes, we need to talk."

Greg quietly poured the tea while he waited for Susan to compose herself. He slid a cup across the table towards her, and sipped his own.

Eventually, Susan blew her nose, and looked up at Greg. "You're right, Greg. I shouldn't be surprised that you think that of me, or that I don't actually know it myself. It was just hearing you say it. I'm sorry, I must have hurt you so much."

"Well, Susan, I've got a couple of questions for you..."

"Would it help if I explained a little of why, of what I felt with David?" Susan asked, quite gently, in almost a whisper.

"No. I don't need to know that. I'm not sure I even care. Just answer me a couple of questions. I am right in thinking that you knew exactly what you were doing when you went to bed with him four times?" There was still an edge of bitterness in Greg's voice, and Susan noted that he couldn't bring himself to even mention David's name.

"Yes, Greg. I did know what I was doing. I never thought you would find out. It was just something I wanted ....... No, needed to do."