Lucky Man Pt. 01

In a couple of years we saved several thousand pounds, enough for a deposit on a pretty basic house. Just the habit of saving, with only one wage coming in as a couple, led us to believe that we would be able to meet any reasonable mortgage payments, so we happily looked forward to the big event.

Very soon I managed to switch my job to scaffolding. It was still a labouring job, but the pay was better and the money flow was much more reliable. We could work in the rain and there was always much more demand for scaffolding and platforms than there was for general building labourers. I extended the evening classes for two years and got my City & Guilds basic and advanced certificates.

The small family-run company I managed to secure a position with appreciated my hard work. They promoted me to foreman after two and a half years, so I got more basic money and eventually a bonus when I managed to win a few extra contracts for them on my own.

After being engaged for about two years, we planned on marrying just after Ruth finished college as a qualified accountant. Ruth did very well in her course, finishing top student and picked up a very good job in a prestigious accountants in Birmingham about 25 miles away. However, her parents still wanted her to live within about 10 miles of them. Even this was a compromise as they would have preferred only five miles distance but the prices and availability locally were impossible for our pocket.

However, as a wedding present, her parents put up a lot of money, providing about 20% of the deposit. We had to use our own deposit savings to part furnish a three-bed semi. My original plan was to start with a basic mid-terrace two-up-two-down and be cosy with minimum debt to worry about, but plans never work out as you imagine they would.

Ruth always had to watch her weight in the early years of our courtship and marriage. Being so short, any surplus weight made her feel dumpy. Going onto the pill when we got engaged made her put on quite a few pounds, the pills available then were less sophisticated than they are now. So she came off them after just a couple of months. We used a lot of condoms in those early years of our marriage as we couldn't afford a family as well as keep up the mortgage repayments. Also, Ruth felt compelled to make herself completely indispensable to her firm before she took time off for producing the babies we both desperately wanted. Well, to be honest, we were both working so hard during that time that we were soon only having sex once a week, usually on a Saturday night.

Would you believe my luck? Despite the severe sex rationing and the almost religious use of prophylactics, Ruth still fell pregnant by accident less than a year into the marriage. She was initially a little upset at the time and we did have a bit of a fight over it, which caused me to lose my conjugal rights for a while. It seemed forever but was probably only a few months. Then, almost as soon as she relented and gave into my advances, she felt too uncomfortable to do it much.

I was ecstatic about the baby coming, though. What impending father doesn't swell with pride, satisfaction and increased feelings for your pregnant partner? OK, reader, I was less than chuffed about being barred from her bed because of it, but she was so unhappy about not being able to carry on working. There was no such thing as maternity leave in those days and paternity leave wasn't even on the horizon. I knew my responsibilities, I was her husband, it was my job to keep up her morale, to support her, to remove any source of worry that could affect the health and wellbeing of both mother and baby. I also had to work even harder to earn more and keep up the mortgage payments with only one wage coming in.

I spoke to my Mum, as she and Bob were the only family I was in any contact with. Mum was over the moon when she heard the news, she had already had five grandchildren with my sisters, but it was natural to want her only boy to have children too. She readily agreed to look after the baby every day so Ruth could return to work after the shortest possible leave of absence.

Mum was a timid creature really, small in stature and dominated by my Dad, Reginald Newlands. He was a monster of a man who dwarfed even my large cousin Bob. He abused her mercilessly, probably throughout their marriage. He was supposedly quite well off, as he owned a number of recycling factories (scrap yards we called them then) across the Midlands. At that time such places were in hot demand as the recycling bug bit. He must have been worth a fortune, but lived frugally and kept Mum on a tight leash, so that most of her wardrobe was purchased from charity shops. I could never understand how she stayed with him all those years. I had heard the rumours from the other kids in the neighbourhood that he was a serial womaniser and in my teens at home I discovered all sorts of hints of his infidelity, some of which I even passed onto my Mum, but she refused to act on any of them.

Both my older sisters seemed to treat Mum like dirt, although I had very little contact with them after they left home and moved away to Scotland. By the time I started school they both had families of their own. Neither of them had any time for me and, stubborn creature that I was, I made no attempt to build bridges.

Mum didn't seem to get on well with Ruth after we married either, although she had met up with both of us enthusiastically on neutral ground when we first started courting. This was early on in our relationship when Ruth insisted on meeting both my parents "to get to know them".

Ruth did visit them regularly, even though I never went with Ruth to my old home. Ruthie increased the regularity of the home visits as the pregnancy progressed. It was natural for her as an only child to desire to belong to my dysfunctional family as well as her own, whether I was present or not.

I had not been home in seven years, and hadn't seen my father since that day he hospitalised me. However, whenever my darling Ruth wanted me to do something I would acquiesce more often than not with her wishes, I didn't worship the ground she walked on for nothing! We agreed that Mum would come to our house daily for about six weeks after the baby was born and I would pick her up and drop her off morning and evening. After six weeks the plan was that Ruth would return to work and she would drop the baby off at Mum's and I would pick the baby up in the evening as I usually finished work early and could get to Mum's first.

Both my parents were there in the waiting room as little Andrea "Andie" Elizabeth Joyce Newlands was born. She was a thing of beauty and I showed her off proudly to everyone. No stranger visiting the maternity unit could escape my infectious joy. Andie was long in the body and would be tall, taking that gene from my side of the family, although I was the exception to the rule.

Meanwhile, Andie's hair, eye colouring and gorgeous facial features were purely from Ruth. She would break hearts when she was older, that was a given. I just didn't realise that the list of broken hearts would include mine.

Ruth seemed happy with the baby care arrangements. Apparently my Dad was more than happy to be a grandfather again, especially as my sisters had given up on having any more, and he readily agreed to have our crèche at his place. You could have knocked me over with a feather. By this time my Dad was retired and often at home when I picked the baby up but we would usually ignore each other except for the odd sneering comment from him about me being a slave to my women, or pussy whipped or some such. Generally I ignored the hateful bastard, but sometimes he got under my skin and I would have to bite my tongue, we couldn't afford to lose the convenience of this baby care.

Ruth soon returned to work after her short break and worked hard on getting back her figure. Within a few months of dieting and regular gym work she was slim, hard and toned, more so than she ever was. The puppy fat which dogged her teens was a problem no more in her mid-twenties. My lovely little wife turned herself into an absolute knockout. I was so proud of her. She invested heavily in a new wardrobe of dressed-to-kill power work clothes, black pinstriped pencil skirts and white or cream frilly blouses, high heeled stilettos and sheer black stockings rather than tights. As Ruth climbed the corporate ladder, she was all the while doing correspondent courses and evening classes to achieve chartered status. When she wasn't learning she was working or out entertaining clients. I hardly saw her at all most evenings after she returned to work, as I was babysitting Andie. She always managed to keep Wednesdays free, though, for her girl's night out. She went out dressed to the nines on Wednesday. Fortunately she never drove when she drank and her mother was often one of the girls, so I didn't worry too much about what she was getting up to.

Andie was my pride and joy. I hadn't realised how much having a family of my own, after so many years of being denied the one I was born in, could make such a difference in the amount of happiness I was filled to the brim with. It was hard work putting in the hours between rushing back and forth to collect her, bearing the brunt of the weekday meal preparation and shopping. Ruth worked long hours developing her career, leading to sleep and sex deprivation. However, it was worth every bead of sweat to be able to change and bathe and cradle and rock my beautiful daughter to sleep each night.

I did have to give up my football, though, and I loved my football. The choice was easy, I simply didn't have time to do everything and I loved Ruth and Andie much more than I did the game.

Then another bombshell dropped in my lap, Ruth fell pregnant again. Boy! Was I in the bloody doghouse that time! It must have been the only time that month I got a shag and I hit the sodding jackpot! Have I told you about my run of luck in the chance stakes? I'm sure I have, it was becoming a bit of an obsession to me. Boy, that time I lost my pussy rights for more than 12 months.

Same arrangement applied, Mum and Dad stepped in to look after both Andie and the incredibly even more beautiful "Charlie" (Charlotte Carol Lucy Newlands), with only 15 months between the birthdays of my two beautiful baby daughters.

Sorry, I shouldn't have left that comment in, as it is completely unacceptable for any parent to broadcast that one is more beautiful than the other, as bad as saying they have a favourite child!

In actual fact I really didn't - I loved my daughters equally, I couldn't possibly put a cigarette paper between them. It is just that for the first year that Charlie was with us I was relaxed enough to enjoy her infancy more than I had with Andie. This has something to do with the second and subsequent child leaving you with less anxiety about being on your own looking after a precious life when you are not totally sure of what you are doing.

Anyway, the chances of either Andie or Charlie reading this is nil, although with my luck, you never know. Thank goodness for the convention of changing the names of the innocent in these accounts. Even if they do read this, they may not recognise themselves.

Ruth wouldn't let me touch her again romance-wise until I had knots tied in my nuts. I can't say I blamed her, we couldn't afford another mishap at that time. I made an appointment with the family planning clinic and was shocked to see that my old Dad was there too when I turned up. He had come along to give me some moral support, also there was no way I could drive after the operation and he offered to take me home. We actually spoke for the first time in nine years in that waiting room. He said how much he loved my girls and looked forward to seeing them every day and that as enough water had gone under the bridge he would be happy if I visited him and Mum with Ruth and the girls occasionally rather than my customary drop off/collection.

Well, I tried and over the next few years we got on better than we ever had but we were never close, especially as Mum seemed to be so cowed whenever I saw her in her own house. She was even nervous at my home with Ruth and the girls for some reason; only when we met up for lunch or coffee with me on our own did she appear happy. She never would tell me why, according to her everything was "ok". Eventually I stopped pressing her, as she seemed happier being left alone. All I knew was that my mother loved me more than anyone in the world, I loved her almost as much as I loved my girls, and that was enough.

Life went on. Ruth did phenomenally well in her job and after only ten years was made a junior partner in the firm. By that time I was managing the scaffolding company as a junior director of the family firm and managed my time well so I could finish at a reasonable hour every day and take on more than my fair share of looking after the girls. During my time as director in charge of new business and renewing contracts I expanded the company as the building trade boomed and we took on more staff. With more money coming in to our household we traded up our house to a nice four-bed detached in a much more fashionable neighbourhood and Ruth had a decent BMW and I opted for a four-wheel-drive Nissan.

We still kept our money separate, except for our joint savings account, which we used to allow to build up over the year and dip into for holidays. The financial arrangements seemed to work so there was no reason to change it. My salary went towards paying the monthly mortgage, insurances, council and car taxes, while Ruth's salary paid the household expenses, the girls' private school fees and built up their college trust funds as well as topping up our individual ISAs and paid for new furnishings.

While the girls were young we were inseparable, I looked after them most evenings when Ruth was out studying or entertaining clients. I changed their nappies, bathed, played and read bedtime stories to them. I adored my little girls and I know they both loved me completely.

Andie and Charlie had three other men in their lives. They loved both their Grandpas too, of course. They had a particularly special bond with my Dad, spending all weekdays with my parents until they went to school and they would be picked up by my Dad after school every day. He could spend a lot of time with the girls as he was retired. I was actually pleased that he had turned his attitude around so that from being a terrible father he appeared to be the perfect grandfather. Perhaps it was just me who rubbed him up the wrong way. Mum and Dad looked after the girls until sometimes Ruth or, usually I, could pick them up. They also loved their "Uncle" Bob, my best mate and cousin Robert, he was as he had always been, a rock-steady constant in our lives.

For some unknown reason Bob and Carol never married, either each other or anyone else. So surprising, as Bob was the handsomest man I knew and Carol was a stunning beauty. Everyone else said my Dad was a hunk who, even in his seventh decade, was bigger built and taller than Bob, but I couldn't think of him as handsome, to me my Dad had a cruel, nasty, vindictive streak that completely outweighed any qualities that others saw in him. The delicious Carol was still a part of Ruth's life but as a long-haul airline stewardess her visits became few and far between. This didn't stop her from being godparent to both girls and being their firm favourite "aunt". Bob was also godparent to both, as far as I was concerned my best friend was the perfect choice.

At work Ruth specialised in troubleshooting companies with cash-flow problems and as the recession took hold, her already large workload increased dramatically. Fortunately by now she was fully qualified and just topped up her knowledge with the odd short course. She would often be appointed temporarily to the board of a struggling company while she tried to bale them out. These companies could be based anywhere in the UK so she had to be away from home more and more often. This did cause me concerns, especially as time went by she was noticeably less affectionate to me. I know I'm less than bright, I have told you that often enough, but I wasn't dense enough not to realise that I was in danger of losing the love of my life.

Ruth looked stunning now all the time, she was in her early-30s but she looked much younger, being petite and blond, with a honed and shapely body. Frequent visits to the gym and beauty salon meant she was always gorgeous. She had laser eye surgery to cure her myopia so she didn't need glasses or contacts, leaving her clear blue eyes to shine with vitality. Whenever I went out with her to functions, etc, I could see that she attracted men like wasps around a honeypot.

Meanwhile, I was in my mid-30s, and had long ago given up sporting activities. I was no longer doing a physically demanding job and had been desk-bound for almost a decade. I had grown soft and fat. I didn't have time to go to the gym and it showed.

I wasn't getting much in the way of bedroom action either, I didn't think she fancied me anymore, so I was really worried that Ruth was getting her rocks off elsewhere. I summoned up the courage to confront her one day and she kissed me tenderly, saying that she would never do anything that her "one true lover would ever disapprove of" and took me to bed for a session that left me completely breathless. It turned out to be a one-time thing though. Ruth never initiated a lovemaking session and I only got any if I whined about it, which was less than satisfactory so after a while I stopped begging. Shows what kind of wimp I am, my Dad had been on the button all along, I was pussy whipped alright.

At least Ruth and I kept up the old time ballroom dancing. Every birthday and anniversary we would find somewhere with a band and reinforce all the moves we had learned so well. those days were the best. We derived enormous pleasure from trying the different moves, when never win any competition, but we always danced together with big smiles on our faces.

When Mum and Dad had their fortieth wedding anniversary, they hired a band and my Dad looked seriously pissed when Ruth and I stole the show. So irrational, but he was purple with rage because apparently we showed him up. Ridiculous, but then I couldn't understand half of what upset him and, to be honest I didn't care.

Ruth did her usual United Nations thing and poured oil on troubled waters by dancing several turns with Dad while I whizzed my darling Mum around the room with the biggest smile I had ever seen on her face.

Another couple of years passed and I was still happy to be in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever met, who mostly appeared to love me back, at least when she had time to. We had a couple of really great teenage girls who I adored, a nice house, an interesting but undemanding job that I enjoyed doing and appeared to have a secure future ahead of me.

I was at least someway into the bosom of my parents' family, talking albeit infrequently with my father, and I was even in the good books of my wife's folks. I once, only once, overheard my mother-in-law acknowledging that I had done reasonably well for myself, considering, when she thought I was out of earshot. I even discussed with my father-in-law over cigars one night the possibility of raising enough money to buy out my firm, as the owners appeared to be losing interest in running the business and I could see the potential worth of the business. The owners just seemed to be taking money out of the firm when it was crying out for reinvestment to take advantage of the upturn in the building trade ten years ago. Mr Edmundson was cautious about loaning me his money or even the bank's.