Seven year ditch

Next morning, as they were finishing their coffee, he broached the subject.

"We should talk about last night, Liv."

"It was fantastic, love. I came twice!"

"I meant the party. You broke the rules."

"I did not."

"You got your breasts out."

"One popped out, and it was a complete accident a wardrobe malfunction."

"And you all laughed about it."

"Of course we did. Surely you don't expect me to run off to the toilets, crying like a little girl?"

"OK, accepted. But Brian also grabbed your arse too intimately while you were dancing."

"Brian is not party to our 'rules'. He got carried away, that's all. Why don't you grow up? I didn't do anything wrong, you're describing things that were done to me. You want me to say sorry? Forget it, I had a good time."

"I'm not suggesting you should apologise. But there's something I would like you to do."

"What?"

"I'd like you to stay away from Brian Nash. And if we run across him socially, keep him at arm's length."

"That's outrageous! You can't order me about!"

"I'm not ordering. I'm expressing concern and asking politely. If you'll just listen, I'll tell you why it's important."

"Go on then."

"After he grabbed you as we arrived, he winked at me, like I was ok with him doing that. And soon after your breast got exposed, he walked past me, gripped his penis, and said 'Nice tits!'"

"He did not!"

"He did, what would be the point of me lying? And you shouting a denial in my face does not make you right. None of this may seem significant to a wife. But to a husband it's humiliating. He's letting me know he thinks he can have you any time, and I can't stop him."

"You're being paranoid Chris. He's just a bit boisterous."

"OK. Let me try a different approach. I'm paranoid and ridiculous, I admit it. But indulge me anyway. I dislike Nash and he feels the same way about me. I am quite sure he's after you. So, please stay away from him."

"This is stupid. I rarely see him. Why didn't you mention all this last night, if it was so important to you?"

"Because I was horny and you were hot. I didn't want to spoil my chances."

"What? You kept this bottled up so you could have sex?"

"Listen to yourself Liv. You sound like Lady Bountiful, granting sexual favours. If I had mentioned it last night you'd have lost temper, just like you're doing now, and we would not have made love at all. I think that says more about you, than it does about me."

"Read my lips. You're being ridiculous."

"Well, at least we can look back on this conversation and agree I tried to be reasonable."

Later:

"We're invited to Brian's for a Halloween party on the last Friday of this month."

"I don't want to go." Chris replied.

Olivia sat next to him.

"I knew you'd be like this, so let's be clear. I'm getting a costume, and going to the party. You can suit yourself."

"I can't stop you Liv, but I'd like to remind you of something. Some years ago, we were at a New Year's Eve party and were both flirting. I said I fancied dancing with a woman in a short red dress; braless, protruding nipples. You said please don't; you thought she was a slut."

"I remember."

"Then you'll remember this. You didn't know her, and only presumed her slut status. But it upset you and I stayed away from her. Nash is different. He's a known womaniser, and has set his sights on you. And I'm asking you to repay me that same respect. Please, do not go to that party. Caroline's having a bash, we could go to that."

"You're being stupid again. Brian is not a womaniser and even if he was, I have no intention of being seduced by him. My mind's made up."

For Chris, the week got worse. Barry Jackson, Director of Purchasing, called him into his office.

"I need you to go to a seminar at the end of the month."

"I'm a bit high up the ladder for that sort of thing. Send one of the managers." Chris said.

"No can do. I need someone with status. In November, I'll book you an afternoon at a local hotel, and you can pass on what you learn to our staff."

"Tim's good at that sort of thing, why not send him?"

"He's on paternity leave."

"Where is this seminar being held?"

"At Manchester Arena on the last Thursday and Friday of this month. And I want you to stay on Friday night. There'll be a chance for some networking. It's the usual format. Put everything on your credit card and we'll reimburse you."

Chris caved in as he could see a way to use this to his advantage. First he needed to clear everything with Tim. He dropped in on his way home.

"So, you agree?"

"Sure Chris. I know this sounds terrible, and I love the new baby to bits, but I could do to get away from the late night feeds and smelly nappies for a couple of days."

"You do not tell Barry Jackson we've swapped. I'll book the hotel with my credit card, and you take that same card with you. Just call yourself Chris Jaggers."

"I'll do it. Let me know how it turns out with Olivia."

It was the last week of October.

"So, you're leaving Wednesday night?" asked Olivia.

"Afternoon actually, I'll go to the airport straight from work. I'll get back around lunchtime on Saturday."

"And now you want to talk to me about the party?"

"Yes."

"OK. I'm listening."

"Imagine it's five years in the future, and you are looking back at this party."

"I'm with you."

"I'm going to describe three possible scenarios:

First, you did not go to Brian Nash's party; you went to Caroline's. I'm delighted, trust and respect are restored, and you barely remember this conversation.

Second, you went to Nash's, despite how unhappy it made me. You danced, kissed, and flirted; a happy memory for you, but a bad one for me. Looking back over those five years, you realise I have never trusted you since, and I think our marriage is a sham."

"Oh dear." she said.

"Worst scenario, you went to the party and had sex with him. You didn't mean to, but he seduced you. I found out. Subsequently, I forbade you to say it meant nothing, that you only love me; that it was only sex, etcetera. We've been divorced and haven't seen each other for years. It is one hundred percent your fault; and you have to live with that. Liv, please do not go to that party."

"Chris. I still think you're over-reacting and paranoid. But I can see you are serious. So I promise I will not go to Brian's Halloween party. In fact I won't go to Caroline's either. I'll stay home, watch tv, and wait for you to come back from Manchester, like a good wife should."

For a split second he was tempted to believe her, but she'd overplayed her hand. Saying she would not go to Caroline's was the give-away. Attendance there, would mean he could telephone during the party, or check with Caroline later. Liv was playing the martyr; sitting at home on her own. He wasn't fooled; she was going to Brian Nash's party.

"Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."

Less than an hour later, Chris was 'just popping round the pub' and, using Nick's app, listened in on her call.

"I told him I'm not coming."

"But you are, aren't you?"

"Once I'm sure he's in Manchester, yes."

"Your mutual friends at the party might tell him."

"My costume will ensure they don't recognise me."

"And you'll stay the night?" he asked.

"If you're good."

"Oh I will be!"

Wednesday morning Chris told Olivia his mobile phone was playing up, and he might not be able to call her. That afternoon, he drove Tim to the airport and gave him fifty pounds and his credit card. Then he took his overnight bag round to Nick's, who had interesting news.

"Nash nailed another woman last night; his first since I started monitoring the guestroom. His wife was asleep, probably knocked out. Just as well he soundproofed the room though, she was very vocal."

"You get sound too?"

"Of course. His line was 'I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you!' He probably says that to all of them."

"Do we know her?"

"I don't. But, from their conversation, I'd guess she's got a child at Olivia's school."

Later, Chris listened in on Olivia's next two calls.

"Bridgewater Hotel, how may I help you?"

"Hello. Can you please tell me if Chris Jaggers has checked in yet?"

"He has, an hour ago. Can I put you through to his room?"

"No need thanks."

And:

"His hotel confirmed he's arrived. We're on!"

"I can't wait. What are you wearing again? I'd hate to squeeze the wrong arse!"

"No you wouldn't! I'm a sexy ninja - short black dress, crotchless tights, and black panties. There's a lightweight black mask, which covers my face and hair. But you must keep your hands off. Till bedtime anyway! And his phone has been playing up again this week, so he may not be able to call me.

"Great! Why don't I come round your house tonight?"

Chris's heart sank.

"No! We must make it impossible to be found out."

Friday evening, Chris called her from his burner phone.

"Hi babe!"

"Hi. What number are you calling from?"

"I borrowed some guy's phone; mine's given up the ghost. This will be my only chance to call."

"Well it's great to hear from you. What are you doing?"

"We're just about to go in to dinner. I'd prefer your cooking though."

"Why did you call the landline? Checking I'm at home?"

"Don't be like that. I can't access my contacts list on the mobile. But I remember the landline number off by heart."

"Sorry, I'm still a bit sensitive."

Her taxi sounded its horn. Olivia waved from the window.

"What was that?"

"A neighbour's car, look, I won't keep you. Go and enjoy your lovely hotel dinner!"

In the cab, she called the hotel once more. Sorry, Mr Jagger was not in his room. The seminar attendees had just gone through to dinner. She sat back and smiled. As an afterthought, she slipped a hand under her ninja dress and removed the nipple covers. The scratchy material of the costume rubbed against her. As they drove down the high street, there was a removal lorry coming the other way.

There was a mummy, a Quasimodo, a wizard, and a couple of witches making up the group. They were loud and more than a little merry. The ninja had not been recognised. Dracula was not drinking much. He approached an impressive looking Bride of Frankenstein. She sported the classic swept back hair, black and curly with the dramatic white streaks. Dracula kissed her on one cheek, and passed her a glass of wine. She placed it on a nearby table. An axeman passed her. A black leather hood came to his shoulders. There were apertures for eyes and mouth, not unlike the ninja across the room. An open leather waistcoat came to his hips; no shirt. And fake leather trousers that revealed a pair of soft boots. He removed the Bride of Frankenstein's glass, and put another in its place.

The removal company were professional and fast, packing as per Chris's instructions. All his personal items were boxed up and stowed at the front of the lorry for quicker access. Olivia's stuff was at the back. He took a long look before he left. Not his house any more.

Around one a.m. the Bride of Frankenstein was asleep in the master bedroom. Her face still bore traces of theatrical make-up. The party stragglers were getting into taxis, and chauffeur-driven limos. The caterers were piling into a large van. Dracula did the rounds locking everything up. There were two glasses of red on the kitchen counter. As he checked upstairs, a figure carrying a fake axe passed a hand over the drinks. Dracula's last check was his own bedroom, where he opened the door quietly.

"Patricia?"

No reply. He returned to his ninja in the lounge.

"Out like a light. I should say dead to the world, as it's Halloween. We'll finish our wine and go to the guestroom."

Once in there, the first thing he said was: "Leave the panties on." Olivia stripped off everything else. He put his head between her legs and breathed her in.

"God, you're absolutely soaking! This is heaven!"

Despite feeling sexy, she wished he wouldn't mention her wet state. She was relieved when he took her knickers off.

"Show me your cunt."

She did. Olivia would prefer him not to say cunt. But she was here to experience something different. He dived in and began licking and sucking her. She had to admit he was good. He nibbled on her clitoris, and raised his head.

"I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you!"

Olivia was getting irritated. Brian had used that line before. He held her ankles up and put the head of his penis up against her vagina. Then he picked up her wet knickers.

"If I throw these at the wall, I bet they'll stick!"

"Stop being so crude."

He rammed into her.

After a few thrusts, he spoke.

"I've never fucked a cunt so wet. I can't feel the sides!"

"Enough with the jokes!" she complained. "Perhaps your penis isn't big enough!"

"It's bigger than Chris's!"

Actually it wasn't. His technique wasn't any better either. Olivia was starting to regret this; all the differences were disadvantages. He pulled out.

"Suck it now."

Olivia had no problem sucking a penis that had been inside her. She liked the taste and took him into her mouth. He was definitely smaller than Chris.

"Doggy style now."

'Good.' she thought. 'Maybe he can get it in deeper.'

She got on her hands and knees and pushed her hips up.

Brian knelt behind her and pulled her vulva open. Then pushed her head into the pillow and held her. He pistoned into her a couple of times, then yanked her buttocks open, and plunged his dick up her arse.

"Ow! We said no anal!"

"You said no anal. But I make the rules here."

But a minute after he'd started, he began to lose the feeling. He stopped and Olivia stayed where she was. Feeling tired, he withdrew with a soft plop and lay beside her. She was asleep. He felt embarrassed. This was the first woman who'd fallen asleep on him. He'd throw her out in the morning before Patricia surfaced. Brian drifted off to sleep himself, trying to remember if he'd cum or not.

Patricia Nash sat up in bed when the hangman entered.

"Have they done it?"

"I think so - I'll check the vids later. They're locked in the guestroom anyway."

"OK."

"Did you look in your bathroom?"

"Yes, like you said, Rohypnol and Ecstasy. Turn your back while I slip my robe on. And take that scary hood off... I recognise you now. You did the security work on our extension. Which woman stayed over?"

"The ninja."

"I've got it!" she said. "You must be her husband! That's what this is all about, isn't it?"

They peeped into the guestroom where the sleeping couple were spooning on top of the bed.

"What do you want to do?" asked Nick.

"Smack him across the back of his head with his favourite billiards cue for a start!"

"It's your call but please don't wreak too terrible a revenge on her. She's been taken care of."

They crept in and removed the lovers' clothing and the bedding. They never even stirred.

"Once they're locked in, the only way out is through the window." she said. "I might have a camera ready when he jumps out naked. There are rose bushes under there!"

Job done, Nick flew back to Croatia. He never did get the full details of Patricia's revenge. He saw the newspapers though, and they had some excellent photos of Brian Nash jumping naked onto the mattress he'd managed to throw out ahead of him. There was much speculation over his black eye. In the fullness of time, he moved away and rented a small flat in the next town over.

After he jumped, Patricia kept the house locked, but let Olivia out of the bedroom. She had burned the Halloween outfits, and telephoned the police to say she was ejecting a naked intruder. But the press were contacted first and a crowd of onlookers were there to see Olivia stagger out with nothing but a small black handbag. Before the police could provide a blanket, there were uncensored pictures all over the internet. When Chris saw them he had to admit she looked pretty good.

After questioning, Olivia did not arrive home until Saturday afternoon. The police had tried to contact Chris several times, without success. She told them about his dodgy mobile phone, but the Manchester hotel said he'd checked out. They could not raise him there, or at home. They found her shorts and a T-shirt, and left her at the front door. She tried to open it but the keys wouldn't work. She had no more success round the back, so knocked.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Mr and Mrs Patterson. And you?"

"I'm Olivia Jaggers. This is my house."

"Oh, we were told to expect you, come in. Would you like coffee? Sit here, and we'll explain."

Olivia sat at her breakfast bar, bemused. The house was sparkling clean but strangely empty; no pictures or mementos anywhere. And these people were acting as if it was theirs. She took her mobile out of her bag.

"May I charge this please?"

Mrs Patterson plugged it into a convenient extension lead and set it on a little phone stand, by Olivia's coffee. She also slid an envelope next to it.

"This is for you."

Olivia would never know it, but her phone was going to take longer than usual to charge. The microphone and camera had been turned on remotely. The envelope had 'Mrs Jaggers' printed across the front. Thus, from a distant beach, Chris had the pleasure of watching his wife open it. The picture quality was excellent. The envelope contained a letter, a business card, and a key.

'Olivia,

There is money in your account and your credit cards are active. Jointly held savings are gone. The house is rented to the Patterson's, and contains nothing of yours.

I have video evidence of Nash proving how he has 'never wanted a woman as much as he wants you'. If you haven't already worked it out, he wanted many others just as much, and got most of them. Better have a health check.

The key belongs to U-Store. Your things are there. I have pre-paid for 30 days; then you must return it.

I propose a divorce based on two years separation. The card is my solicitor's. All contact must be through her.

Chris.

PS. You recall those three scenarios? I was wrong, there was a fourth: the one where you absolutely promise not to go to Nash's party, but try to track me so you can break that promise. As with your other actions; that was unforgiveable.'

Olivia filled with tears. They trickled down her cheeks in silence. Chris watched them and smiled.

"This is a preliminary hearing concerning Mrs Jaggers' file for divorce. I am her solicitor, Mr Williamson. Present are Mrs Jaggers, Mr Jaggers and his solicitor Mrs Vickers."

Olivia looked at Chris, who stared straight ahead. It was the first time she'd seen him in two months. He looked tanned.

"First, may we ask if Mr Jaggers has any objections to a quicker divorce based on irreconcilable differences?"

"None." replied Mrs Vickers. "But if we cannot agree reasonable terms, Mr Jaggers will file, citing adultery, and presenting graphic images to prove it."

"Then we propose the following: Mrs Jaggers to be awarded half the value of the marital home, half their savings, and one third of Mr Jaggers' salary, as compensation for her loss of earnings."

"I will first address the loss of earnings." said Mrs Vickers. "No compensation will be paid. Mrs Jaggers was fired because her public nudity was in contravention of her education authority's contract. Mr Jaggers was not present when she attended Mr Nash's party and had sex with him. In fact he is on record begging her not to go. She also broke her employment contract by having an affair with one of the school's board of governors. There is no reason why my client should compensate her for deliberately setting out on a course that would lose her her job."

"We may return to that later. My client is entitled to half the value of the house, and half their savings."

"Not possible. Mr Jaggers does not own a house, and has no savings."