Jogging Memories Ch. 07

"What did you watch back then, hon?" Jennifer asked.

"Just the news and the football programme "Match of the Day" on Saturday night," he grinned, "There was never anything else of any interest to me on. In fact, my eyes are so tired now I think I'll have a bath and go to bed."

JJ was curled up on the other end of the sofa, with Tommy in the middle before he retired. Eldest son Tom was around Susannah's house all evening, as usual, and Tig was doing his homework out on the kitchen table.

By the time Jennifer retired, Tommy was fast asleep on what they would previously have considered the wrong side of the bed. As she crept into bed, Jennifer reflected how things were now so much the same and yet so different. She wondered, with a sinking feeling in her heart, whether anything in their life could ever be the same again. When Jennifer woke up first in the morning they were spooned together, and she lay there luxuriating in feeling his morning glory poking her in the bum and a hand gently grasping one of their tits. Bob appeared to be asleep, snoring gentle. When he awake, aware of the position he woke in, he moved away from her like a startled deer and ran into the bathroom for a shower.

Disappointed and somewhat deflated, Jennifer went down to the kitchen and put the coffee on.

<<<>>>

Early on Friday evening JJ skipped down the stairs wearing the first dress Jennifer had seen her wear in possibly as long as two years.

"Where are you off to?" asked her surprised mother.

"Out," she called over her shoulder as she opened the front door.

"Where?"

"The Cinemac in Macclesfield," as JJ opened the door,

"What? How?"

"My lift has just pulled up outside, Mum, I can't hang about."

JJ disappeared out of the door and ran down the footpath and got into the waiting blue mini, which drove off moments after she had fastened her seat belt.

"Hi, Brick," she said brightly to the driver, "You're spot on time."

"That's my new motto, 'Never keep a lady waiting', JJ."

"Does that mean that up to now you were never punctual?"

"What it may mean is that up to now I didn't care about how punctual or not I was," he smirked.

"Ah, ... does that mean that you are only on time for certain ladies?..." JJ smiled, "Or do you really mean that you want to make sure you don't miss the start of this particular movie?"

"Do I get thumped if I get the answer wrong?"

"Depends on whether you believe violence normally has a bearing on the the answer, Brick."

"Well, we have got plenty of time to get where we are going. With enough spare time for a coffee or even a stroll around before the film starts, JJ. So that may go some way to answering your question indirectly."

"Very cryptic, Brick," she laughed, "Your choice of film is the latest action blockbuster, not a romantic comedy or chick lit, I notice. Should I read anything into that?"

"Absolutely, JJ. I invited you out. I am providing the transport and the tickets, I'm splashing out for drinks and snacks, too. So, my treat, therefore, we are seeing my choice of film. Next time, JJ, you can choose the movie. I can definitely live with chick lit if there's something particular you want to see."

"So there's going to be a next time, then?"

"Completely up to you, JJ," Brick grinned as he negotiated around a roundabout, checking his mirror for vehicles around him. "I just ask the once, and leave myself open to be asked in return, that's as far as I go."

JJ nodded. "So, what exactly is this thing we are doing, Brick, is this a date?"

"When I asked you this afternoon if you wanted to go out to see a film for a couple or three hours tonight and you agreed, we did set the time I would collect you, so I guess this is more of a 'time' than a 'date'," Brick suggested, trying to hide his grin.

JJ laughed. "The date wasn't mentioned as it was the same day, so I suppose this could be regarded as an arrangement determined by 'implied date & time', so I could abbreviated it to a 'date'."

Brick nodded this time, "Fair enough, you could, JJ."

"So, tell me Brick" JJ continued, "Are all your dates expected to put out after your outlay?"

Brick spluttered, "JJ!"

"Well?" JJ persisted.

"Absolutely not! I'll have you know I am a complete gentlemen ... and I have always assumed that you are a lady."

"I'm a girl, not a lady, Brick, a girl who's not quite ready to be a lady yet."

"Yes, I know that very well, JJ, and I am glad we are getting this ... touchy subject shall we call it, discussed and out of the way up front on our first date," Brick smiled.

"This isn't just our first date, Brick, it's my first ever date, and I don't want anything to spoil it or have any bad memories of it."

"You won't have any bad memories, I promise you that, JJ. Although you may hate my choice of films on this occasion."

"I'll take my chances with the film!" JJ laughed, then more quietly, "So, no snogging in the back row, then."

"What? And take the risk of missing any part of this magnificent film I am paying good money to see? You never know, JJ, I might need to submit a review of this particular blockbuster to the school magazine. How can I possibly rate the film properly if some slip of a girl is sucking the lips off my face, huh?"

"I can see your predicament, Brick, and the particular reason why you chose me-"

"Oh, I didn't chose you for your non-participatory qualities, JJ, but I won't deny that you'd be a great comfort to me in the dark during the frightening bits. I might have to ask you to hold my hand when these arise and, as I have not seen the film yet and unable to predict when such sequences occur, you might have to hold my hand throughout."

"I can see my presence might have some utility value, then, Brick," JJ said, her eyes sparkling in the oncoming headlights, "But, tell me, what exactly do I get out of this date then?"

"All the popcorn you can eat, JJ," Brick offered, "And a better chance to get to know me over a longer period than the few minutes that we spend driving you home in the car each day."

"Mmm, if you want me to hold your hand during the scary bits, you might have to do something for me as well, okay?"

"Sure, what's that?"

"I've never been all the way to Macclesfield on my own before, Brick. It sounds ... scary."

"Never fear, JJ, I'll hold your hand all the way there and back ... except, of course, when I have to change gear."

<<<>>>

Saturday morning was a cold and blustery November morning. An earlier frost had severed virtually all the dry crinkly leaves from the beech, maples and birch trees surrounding the Morris's back garden, which the brisk wind whipped off the branches and chased across the lawn to collect in rattling crowds around the bases of shrubs and up against the fences.

Tommy/Bob gazed out of the window from the main bedroom as he surveyed the area around the back of the house, the alley beyond, the row of large houses and the road parallel to their own beyond that. He had walked with Jennifer around the estate for a large part of yesterday, trying to see if any of it looked even vaguely familiar. Other than the fact that road after road looked very much the same to him, he could honestly say that he recognised absolutely nothing.

They had leisurely strolled down to the park, where Jennifer informed him that he had started out doing a lot of solid running in his early jogging days, about ten years earlier. That was when Bob had decided he had become fed up with the middle-age spread, which was rapidly making his then current wardrobe redundant and reducing his fitness levels to a quite worrying low point.

Jennifer told him that she had been delighted that he had taken up the jogging at the time. She recalled that the exercise had toned him up and, dropping her voice and nudging him forgetfully in his damaged rib area, said that his increasing fitness had improved his bedroom performance no end at the time. They had both laughed out loud at that.

To be frank, Bob had started looking at Jennifer somewhat differently to how he had regarded her on Monday, the day when they first met, as far as his damaged memories were concerned. Before then, he had naturally been rather wary of her; he could admit that now. Jennifer was an attractive woman, certainly, but his first impressions on meeting had been of a haughty, rather spoiled much younger woman. She was so unlike the warm, friendly childhood sweetheart, Sally, the woman he married some thirty-three years ago, which seemed to his crystal clear memories to have occurred only a matter of a few months earlier.

He couldn't help it, he had to admit at least to himself that he was still very much in love with Sally. He felt it was an unshakeable love, one that had grown slowly, naturally, over some twelve years together. The couple developed individually as growing kids, at the same time as their relationship blossomed, turning into a love that he thought would endure forever.

He knew, of course, through the medium of his mother Ann, what had happened to Sally. However, he had never had the opportunity to speak to Sally since his awakening. It seemed that she had eventually given up on his ever returning. Once that initial acceptance had been taken, Sally had remarried twice, and moved to the opposite end of the earth, along with his first-born son, Brett, who he had never even heard of until these last few days.

His mind was in turmoil, overwhelmed by a sense of loss more than satisfaction in what he had found. Sally was a loss he could feel more sharply than any wound that had been inflicted on him. The discovery of an unknown son, Brett, was an abstract that he found impossible to pin his feelings onto at the moment, even measured against the three children he had inherited in the last few days.

Not one of those four children had he any recollection of their birth and development, a loss to him as a father that was unaccountable.

As Tommy Barlow, he had always been a cheeky, know-it-all youngster, ever up for a laugh and a joke. He always used to act flirty, with all the older women at the factory, just for the devilment of it, although Sally was the only woman he had ever made love to or ever wanted to. That is, she was the only lover that he could now remember. In all respects other than his devotion to his true love, he had been a bit of a Jack-the-lad in his youth and forever getting up to mischief. It was Sally who had drummed into him that he had to take on responsibility, especially as they were trying for a family and made it clear to him that soon he would have to knuckle down and not spend so much time with his old mates down the pub. This had become a habit, which he had insisted on doing several times a week straight after work. He had even sneaked out to smoke, drink and meet his mates during the evenings early in their marriage, but Sally had put her foot down. They couldn't afford his drinking and smoking, as well as pay their rent, and they certainly couldn't afford his season ticket for his beloved Notts County.

He laughed out loud at the thought of himself ever smoking while he removed his pyjamas and dressed, getting ready to join Jennifer. They had planned on having Bob's regular Saturday fried breakfast, which they had previously enjoyed when his working schedule allowed.

He'd had a craving for cigarettes at the start of the time he was in hospital, but was denied the privilege, due to the smoking laws which were vigorously enforced, along with the fact that he was physically unfit to be able to go outside to the designated smoking area, during those first few days. The craving soon faded and by the time he was allowed out of hospital, any residual wish for tobacco had gone completely. As Dr Phoebe said, the craving was purely psychological; the poisons to which he had once been addicted had been leached from his body many years before.

Jennifer told him that for all the time she had known him, over twenty-two years, he had never smoked, even when cigars were passed around at the end of meals or occasional joints offered to partygoers.

To complete the picture for the husband she knew as Bob, Jennifer said that they began their relationship rather tentatively, as seldom-met work colleagues. They would bump into each other at social events and early on Jennifer decided she would like to know this quiet man better, particularly as the previous boyfriends of her own age had always let her down by their lack of maturity. The ice was broken between them at a summer concert about twenty-one years ago. They were sitting together and Jennifer confessed to him that the current seating arrangements putting them together were contrived, because she was interested in him. This seemed to have the effect of piquing his interest at last. They both soon agreed that the concert music wasn't to their taste and they left their seats at the interval and spent the afternoon together walking through a park and resort nearby. That led to Bob asking her out to an initial date, after which they started dating regularly, became engaged for about four months, before getting married about three months shy of twenty years ago.

He pulled on and zipped up a thick pair of corduroy trousers, he didn't want to risk feeling cold later, recalling to mind the previous evening spent in the company of Emma and Richard. Yes, he had determined early on, he really liked Emma. She was slightly shorter and a little chunkier than Jen, but she was lively, quite natural and much more fun than Jennifer. She had a wicked sense of humour, which appealed to Tommy. Jennifer was very quiet in the company of their long-standing friends, Tommy thought. It was almost as if she was worried about what either Emma or Richard were thinking, she was so subdued.

As for Richard, Bob's long-time best friend, apparently, he was receiving mixed messages from the man. He really didn't seem to be best friend material at all.

The old Tommy, who woke up just a week ago, appeared to have buried Bob's known persona completely. Bob was apparently rather quiet and reserved, as both Emma and Jen informed him. Tommy couldn't get his head around how a man like how Bob was described would even want to be associated with someone so uncouth as Richard, let alone have him as a best friend. He found Richard ... well, he thought he was pretty well unlikeable, quite frankly. He couldn't understand how the old Bob Morris could possibly have regarded the man as a friend. The guy was really creepy. Richard was snide and truculent; boastful about things he did or got up to that didn't matter a jot, yet he appeared not to be any good at any particular skill or even remotely interested in anything other than his own limited self-interests.

The subject of the younger couple trying hard to succeed in making Emma pregnant, when it was referred to ad nauseum by Richard, was awkward to say the least.

Emma's approach to the subject when it was raised was light, positive and funny, but Richard made an already touchy subject a lot more embarrassing. He made a series of inappropriate references, which had left a nasty taste in Tommy's mouth, comments he felt were unworthy of being uttered the first time let alone repeated or remembered with anything other than embarrassment. Not only did Tommy find that he disliked Richard, he really couldn't understand how a really nice, funny, sweet and sensitive woman like Emma could not only be attracted to him in the first instance but then stay loyally by the odious sod.

Tommy pulled on a warm sweater, knowing he was going to accompany Jennifer to the shopping mall immediately after their breakfast, and turned his thoughts onto his new wife, almost a stranger, still. Despite her twenty years with him, he only had five days and a couple of nights to familiarise himself with her. They had shared a bed since he came home on Thursday night, two nights so far. They kissed each other with a light peck at lights-out and again when they awoke, taking things slowly between them. Jennifer had insisted they held each other's hands while walking around the housing estate and the park, however, which he gladly agreed to.

Last night, after retiring and lights out, Jen had rested her head on his shoulder as they lay in bed sleepily and, he had to admit, that his body had started to react to the stimuli of her feminine body heat and the evocative smell of her hair. He daren't act on those emerging feelings, yet, but that was progress of a sort. Still no memories emerging, but he could see some hope for eventual light at the end of the tunnel.

As he dressed he looked in the mirror at his face, showing him the unfamiliar face of an old man. He still reacted with a double take every time he saw his face. It wasn't the bruising; much of it had faded away in the last few days. It still shocked him though every time he saw it. It was as if he had had those years stolen from him. He had some residual aches and pains from his beating but otherwise he felt as though he was still a fit young man, his core strength gradually returning.

"Come on, honey!"

The call interrupted his thoughts, the voice rising up the stairs from the kitchen. Not a demanding voice, but one on the edge of a giggle, "Eggs are done, get your arse down here, now!"

"Coming, sweetheart!" he boomed back, "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Yeah, this relationship was starting to feel like a proper marriage. He felt comfortable being in a stable marriage and just at that moment he wished he could relax and just let their shared existence take its natural course.