TGI Chronicles Pt. 1 Ch. 01

"It was just the way you did it. He seemed to tell you to do it, and you obeyed. And you were so comfortable with it."

"Well, I certainly wasn't going to give him the pleasure of thinking it was special treat just for him. I wanted to keep it natural, that it was no big thing. And it isn't!" She looked at me defiantly.

Well, maybe she can explain it away. But I still didn't feel happy about it, so I pressed on, "But then he sent you in for a drink for him. And you hurried off to do it, like some semi-naked Nubian slave, pandering to her master's every whim."

"Well it was a bit like that. Or at least I felt it was. He asked me to go and get him a cold drink. He didn't say Please, he didn't offer me one. He really is a selfish pig of a man. But I was sunbathing by his pool. So, I did what he said. But I wasn't very happy at that moment."

"OK. But then you stripped to nothing as soon as you got back."

"Did you see that? Did you see my pussy from the window?"

I shook my head. "No, but I saw your bum when you went swimming."

"No, I didn't think you could have. My g-string bikini bottom would look like I was nude from the back and at that distance . You know that little tan coloured one?" Again she looked defiantly at me, challenging me to deny her.

She went on, "You obviously couldn't see the strings of the g-string at the back from your window. You see, I was angry with Ken when I brought him that drink. He was totally oblivious of how I felt. He just made some lewd comment about me being topless, and why didn't I finish the job? I thought I could really get at him, really show him. So I very slowly and sexily peeled off my bikini bottom. He didn't know that I could wear a g-string under it. He had to play it cool, but I knew what he was thinking. I thought that was a little victory. Us girls have to rely on the little victories when dealing with lechers like Ken."

She looked at me. I just sat thinking. It was plausible but didn't quite ring true.

"Why did you have a g-string on under your bikini. Did you think Ken was going to rape you? I've never known you to wear two bikini bottoms before."

She looked at me for a long moment. I think she saw I was trying to find fault in her story, which was probably unfair. How many of us are completely rational all the time? I wasn't totally rational in my doubts and thinking.

"Originally I wasn't going to take up Ken's offer. I was going to sunbathe just wearing that little g-string on our back patio. So I put it on. Then I had a worry that the sun doesn't stay on our patio to late afternoon, I know it certainly doesn't later in the year, I wasn't sure about June. So I went over to the window to look at our patio and to judge it and I saw the Whitman's pool. It looked so inviting that I changed my mind. So I put on the pink bikini. As you know that is one of my most modest bikinis, which was why I chose it. I'm not really sure why, I wasn't expecting trouble. I just did it."

She paused, looking at me, and then added "If you don't believe me Tim, my g-string is wet but drying at the end of the towel rail in our bathroom."

"So why did you go indoors with him, and what were you doing?"

"You saw me go for a swim. Well maybe I got too hot sitting in the sun, maybe its too early in the year and their pool hasn't heated up yet, but that water was very cold. After a few lengths I came out. I was too cold. I said so to Ken, I went up to thank him, but I was going to come home for a hot shower. He said not to do that, but to go into their house and he'd make me a cup of tea, and he'd find me a towel. I could have a shower there if I wanted. And that's what we did."

"Tell me, what happened then. You were in there some time?"

"God, Tim. This is getting to be like the Inquisition. I'm trying to be patient and explain it all, because you got yourself in such a state about it, but this is getting silly."

"Humour me."

"OK!" she said, with a sigh "Ken found me a big fluffy towel. An orange one. I've never seen bright orange towels before, but there you go. Anyway it was straight from their airing cupboard and was lovely and warm from their hot tank. Then he found me that bathrobe of Jean's. Being indoors and with the towel and robe I was feeling warmer, so I decided not to shower. I wrapped up and just got warm. Ken was in the kitchen, and he'd made a pot of tea. We sat there to drink it. I foolishly mentioned his Bentley, just to make conversation. That set him off. He went and got a set of 1930's Bentley postcards that he'd just bought on E-bay. God, I warn you Tim. Ken has a thousand boring facts about those bloody postcards, and he lovingly told me every one - at length and in detail. As soon as I could I got away to come home for a shower. That's when I found a stupid, drunk husband in a jealous rage. OK? Now you know what happened from when you caught me sunbathing by their pool. Can we let it drop?"

"He was touching you when you came out of the pool."

"Did he?"

"Yes, I saw his arm move to touch you."

"Maybe he was moving a fly or something. It was nothing important."

I just sat in silence going over the detail of what she had told me. Maybe it was just my stupid male ego, maybe it was still the lunchtime drinking, maybe it was my guilt at being stupid, but I desperately sought the one damning mistake in her explanation. I couldn't find it, but I couldn't say sorry. I was suddenly very tired, I wanted to go to bed and sleep. That was the after effects of the drink, I was certain about that at least.

Eventually, Beth broke the silence, "Let's have cup of coffee."

"I think I'd like to go to bed. I feel so very tired. The lunchtime drinking and the emotions of the day are catching up with me." I pleaded.

"Have a cup of coffee with me before you do. Please. Look, you go into the sitting room. I'll clear the table and make some coffee and bring it through."

I guess I owed her that. She seems to have had a rotten day as well. I nodded my agreement, and went into the sitting room.

After a few minutes Beth followed me with two mugs of coffee. "Its only instant I'm afraid. But I thought you could do with some more coffee, and I know I need one."

I was sitting at one end of the sofa. She put the coffee down on the table in front of me, and sat on the floor beside my legs, leaning against the sofa, effectively in front of me, and with her back to me.

Beth broke the silence "So what's all this about Perry then?"

We then chatted about Perry and his total inability for hands on project management. Talking it through with Beth made me realise that other than for his lack of one-on-one ability, he was a damn good manager and boss. In his time, the last two years, the insurance team had received better pay rises than either banking or investments. He was scrupulously fair on the rare occasions when disciplinary action had been needed. He had certainly helped me, his clinical analyses of my work in my personal reviews had certainly helped me as I learnt the ropes of management as his deputy. That's what's good about Beth. She is so good at bringing out my muddled thoughts, of helping me understand myself and my world. I loved her for that.

Eventually we ran out of work gossip and fell to silence again.

The room had drifted towards gloom, as twilight came with the setting sun. I was sitting there with my private thoughts, when Beth started another line of conversation, "What would you have done if you had caught me having an affair with Ken?"

"It would have depended a little on the circumstances. If it was just a silly one off, to be regretted but really meaningless, then I guess I would have to get over it. It would hurt like hell though, and life wouldn't be much fun for a long long time. But if it was a full blown affair then it would have been divorce." I was pleased to note that I was talking as if it was hypothetical, this was the first time I had actually acknowledged that I had accepted her story. I was glad.

"What happened to Love and Tolerance and Forgiveness and all those good things that I thought our marriage had in Spades?"

"I think cold deliberate betrayal week after week, or month after month, gets beyond that. It destroys the fundamental trust on which all those other things are based. Its not about forgiveness, its about trying to find a way forward. And there isn't one without trust."

"God, Tim, you have been thinking about it."

"One of us has to. I know you just follow your heart and live by the day."

"I don't."

"Yes you do. I'm not criticizing. It's the way you think. It's part of the reason you are so good at your job and PR. You live to get the story right for the day, as long as you get to the end of the day with no damage done and without having to tell a literal lie, then its been a good day. There isn't an ounce of long term strategic thinking in you. I'm not complaining, its you and I love you."

"What do you mean, never telling a literal lie?"

"Look, let's not go there. I love you just as you are, and I'm very tired and I want to go to bed. Please can I go to bed? Please?"

"Yes, let's not end the day on an argument, that might count as damage and that's against my creed - apparently!" she said with heavy sarcasm, but I knew, with good humour.

I leant forward and kissed the top of her head. Then I just stood up and wearily made my way to bed.

---

I so desperately wanted, no needed, to go to sleep. But I kept going over my feelings and all that Beth had said. What was wrong with me? I have never known Beth to lie to me, ever. Her explanation was exact and detailed and disproved my doubts. She was right, her g-string bikini was damp and drying in our bathroom. I was convinced. But I hadn't been able to say sorry. Tim - you are a fool, a stupid fool.

With that thought I must have dozed off. I woke to Beth creeping around the bedroom in the dark, trying not to wake me. I very nearly sat up in bed to say how sorry I was to doubt her, but it seemed churlish to show her I was awake after she was trying so hard to be quiet and not disturb me. So I feigned sleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough to abase myself.

As she slid into the bed, for a moment she hovered over me and, very very gently, leant forward to kiss the back of my head and very quietly whisper "I do love you Tim, so very much. I promise I will never ever cheat on you for as long as I live."

On that happy thought I did fall properly asleep.

---

I woke at five o'clock. The birds were already singing their dawn chorus. I lay there thinking clearly. Now I was worried. Last night, in a drunken haze, I had accused my wife of being unfaithful. How could I have been so cruel. She hadn't got mad with me, although she had every right to do so. What was she thinking? My mind went wild with possibilities. She might think it was a cover story for my own adultery. She might think I am a stupid jealous husband showing signs of wanting an intolerable control of her life. Oh God! Tim - you are a fool, a stupid fool.

I had to say sorry in a big way. I had to show that I loved her and trusted her. And I had to do it as soon as possible. What could I do? It was beyond the flowers and chocolate sort of apology.

As a lay there, in the grey light of dawn I remembered something from about six weeks ago, just before my birthday. The bedroom ceiling, that blank white expanse, must have inspired me! Beth had said one evening that she had seen Ken in the day. He had suggested that she might find well paid PR consultancy work within the airline industry. He'd offered to introduce her to some of the players at a conference in Rhodes that was coming up. She would have to pay her own hotel bill and conference fees, but Ken could get her the flights for free. I had been against it. First she was formally employed by her consortium, and we didn't know what they would think of her taking outside work. Second, and this was my selfish thinking, I wanted her to think about giving up work and starting a family, not building a new career as a freelance PR consultant. Now I could suggest that she takes Ken up on his offer. I know she wanted to do it, she was ambitious after all. And what better way of showing that I not only trust her, I trust her with Ken, the very man I thought was my rival. I'll suggest it this evening, over dinner at The Lobster Pot, the best restaurant in town.

I lay there planning our evening. The roses, the champagne and my coup-de-grace, the acceptance of her week in Rhodes with Ken. A saw a way forward to my own forgiveness. But the start better be a favourite breakfast.

I slid out of bed, so smoothly I ended up on all fours on the floor to minimise disturbing the duvet. I crept around collecting my clothes, opening and closing wardrobes and drawers more successfully than Beth did last night. I'm sure I didn't wake her. Then I crept out to use the main bathroom, not to risk noise from our en-suite one.

I looked into the shaving mirror, 'You'll be lucky, Tim, if you can get your apology in before it's too late.'

To be continued...