Memoirs of a Shared Wife Ch. 44

Authors note.

This penultimate chapter of 'memoirs' has no sexual content.

It is an extended epilogue, detailing what happened after my friends accidental death.

The content within this chapter has been difficult for me to write about.

The next and final episode of this series of memoirs will be posted in the loving wives section.

It's strange, isn't it?

How things can just change so dramatically, so quickly.

One minute everything's fine....the next?

When I heard the hurt in Dave's voice that monday evening as he spoke to me on the phone, I knew instantly it was about Sammy.

The accident in town had been nudged to the back of my mind by the excitement of what I was expecting the next day, a visit to beaulah.

But I still made the connection right away.

There was something about it you know? How folk kept talking about the accident in town, like I was meant to have it at the forefront of my thoughts.

Dave had found out because he'd tried to visit Sammy on the monday evening after work.

Mike the manager told him what had happened.

After that, he'd phoned me.

I must say, I was more shocked than upset initially.

I just couldn't believe it.

As days went by, more accurate information about the accident became available.

It was not as first thought, the fleeing thief that had collided with Sammy, but the security guard in pursuit.

The thief had narrowly missed him, running out into the precinct from an alleyway, but the guard did not.

A big man, over 6' and heavily built, running full pelt....poor old Sammy didn't stand a chance.

He was knocked off his feet and sent flying, landing hard and hitting his head on a lamp post.

An off duty police officer gave CPR within minutes but it was no good, Sammy's head injury was too severe and he was pronounced dead at the scene.

We later discovered that he'd been out shopping for some groceries, against doctor's orders, he was supposed to be taking it easy giving his back a rest.

Among the things he'd bought was a box of thornton's chocolates for me, I remember him asking what my favourites were on the previous thursday.

The thief gave himself up days later, a teenager just 15 years old, he'd been bunking off school and decided to do a spot of shoplifting while he was at it.

The security guard was cleared of any wrong doing but he quit his job at the store he worked at, the guy was wracked with remorse.

Sammy's funeral was big, lots of people turned out to pay their respects to the kindly old man, a loveable grandfather figure to many....but of course, I knew another side to him, one he had kept hidden most of his life.

I attended the funeral, along with John and Dave.

Sammy is buried in the same plot as his wife Kavita, in our local cemetery.

I still visit and tend to his grave to this day, having relatives buried in that cemetery myself, I tidy his grave while I'm there.

I always leave a bunch of flowers on the anniversary of his death.

There was guilt initially, in doing this.

I'm a very spiritual person and I knew that Kavita would be watching me.

Her hubby's 'scarlet woman' visiting her grave to put flowers on it for my dearly departed boyfriend?

I know some folk may find that silly but I can't help how I feel.

However, John put me at ease when he pointed out that Sammy hadn't technically been cheating on his beloved wife with me, and if she really loved Sammy then she would want him to be happy.

And I certainly had made his final days amongst us, very happy indeed.

So, this eased my conscience.

So....

That brings to a close this particular part of our journey....well... almost.

What of Barry?

I'll always call him that even though I know his real name is Malcolm.

I never found out what happened to him.

Sorry but that's sometimes how things turn out despite our best efforts.

I did try and find out but kept drawing blanks.

He wasn't that old when I was seeing him so it's quite possible he's still alive, perhaps living in a care home.

Beaulah grove was closed down in January of that following year.

It would have been december but there was an outcry from local people, you can't turf elderly folk out of their homes just before christmas.

I heard that most of the residents were put up temporarily in care homes, others sent to similar assisted living facilities nearby, and the rest moved back in with relatives where possible.

The mischievous part of me likes to imagine that Barry was sent to a care home.

I can just see him there, eyeing up and chasing the female residents, carers and visitors....

Perhaps he may even get lucky, he could meet someone just as twisted as me.

There's another reason that I hope he's off being naughty somewhere....guilt.

I was due to meet him on the day after Sammy's appointment with fate.

Perhaps he knew what had happened? Maybe someone told him about his neighbours accident.

But still, I have this image in my mind of old Barry waiting in that squalid flat, probably naked, probably hard and ready....for me.

If he was unaware of Sammy's demise his ear would be pressed up against the wall listening....to nothing but silence.

Then when I don't show? What would he be thinking?

Doing?

And the next time I don't show....and the next...

He wouldn't understand that I couldn't go back.

I'd made it clear to Mike the manager that I didn't know Barry.

And with Sammy gone, why would I be still going back to beaulah?

So, imagine it for yourself if you will...

This lonely old man, with a very keen sexual appetite.

His only source of pleasure had been his right hand and some old, dirty magazines....for god knows how many years.

Then, by some miracle he has a huge stroke of luck, along comes a real woman and let's him do it with her....do anything he wants to her.

She is his....

For a time he is living out all of his fantasies.

Then, all of a sudden...... It's gone, and he doesn't know why.

I'd just abandoned him in that place, left the poor guy alone with his imagination.

The knowledge of that hurt just as much as Sammy's passing.

I lost sleep over it, which I suppose some of you reading this will think, good you deserve it...cruel bitch.

While others may be questioning my choice of Barry in the first place...what were you thinking anyway?

Letting him do that to you?

Anyway, opinions aside...it's water under the bridge.

Gone.

It still bothers me, and I have that to live with.

Beaulah lay derelict for many months.

vandalised.

Urban explorers etc.

Then, in june of that same year, the dozers moved in and it was demolished.

I remember one sunny, hot afternoon on my way back from a shopping trip, my normal bus had broken down so I had to get the only one available.

This dropped me off near beaulah.

From there I had to walk.

There is a railway line right next to beaulah grove, it has a pedestrian bridge over it in case the gates are down.

This particular afternoon, a train was coming so I decided to use the bridge.

My decision influenced by not only impatience, but curiosity too.

A small group of folk had gathered on the bridge walkway to observe the demolition work on beaulah grove in progress....I was eager to have a look for myself.

Once up on the bridge I could see everything.

A big yellow JCB was busy clawing away at the outer wall of the old place.

The main reception area had already gone in a cloud of dust, tumbling bricks and noise.

Joining the group, mingling.

Voices commenting on what a shame it was, the old place being torn down....all those elderly folk forced to leave.

In the midst of the dust and noise, suddenly the JCB stopped and it's operator got out, climbed down off the thing and approached a work colleague stood watching nearby.

He appeared to be consulting him about something.

My gaze averted back to the crumbling structure, at first just a fog of grey dust.

But this soon cleared.

While stood there, a freight train approaching below me, I saw it...

As the dust cleared, I could make out the old corridor I used to walk down to Sammy's room.

The outer wall had gone, revealing the inside for all to see, albeit briefly.

I recognised everything, the corridor itself, carpet, and the doors.

Numbers 6, 8 and 10 were still there.

And do you know, the strangest thing?

Old Sammy's door was closed shut, so was number 6.

But number 8 was half open...

I could see a little way inside Barry's old flat.

The sofa was gone, carpet still there.

As I stared into the gloom beyond, I fancied I could see Barry, looming out the darkness.

Naked, except for socks.

Whispering....my name.

'Pippa?...Pippa....come here'.

In my mind's eye, he was there.

For a brief moment I was back in beaulah, how it used to be.

Then, the JCB operator returned to the cab and continued with his work.

I watched, with a lump in my throat as my physical memory was erased.

Nothing left but a cloud of dust and pile of Rubble.

That was years ago, long gone.

There are houses there now, families living above the place I once knew so well.

Nothing remains of beaulah grove but memories.

Happy one's.

End of chapter 44.

Authors note.

Oh, one more thing.

That loud inhuman squealing noise Barry made?

I knew I'd heard something similar but at the time couldn't place it.

Well, years after Sammy's death I was sat relaxing with John in our living room.

It was late and John was watching a film.

Deliverance.

I was only half watching as I find the film boring, but do like Burt Reynolds so kept looking up from my tablet when he came on.

Well, it got up to the rape scene and as I don't like that part I focussed attention on my tablet.

Then, I heard it.

The squealing noise that Barry used to make.

During the rape scene they imitate a pig squealing....

The noise brought everything flooding back, it sounded very much like old Barry.

That loud inhuman squeal.