TGI Chronicles Pt. 1 Ch. 02

"Maybe not for everyone." I said gloomily.

"That's probably how you feel now." He just stared at me as I was finishing my coffee. "So what are we going to do with you for today. Look, play it by ear. If you want to go home, then go home. How about telling your parents? They're still around I assume?"

"Well, sort of. They retired to Ireland a couple of years ago. You see my younger brother Paul was called up for Afghanistan, and was killed out there. It rather screwed them up. They sort of went inwards on themselves, and then decided that Dad would retire and they'd do what they'd always promised themselves, they'd retire to Ireland which they've done."

Charlie looked at me, knowing I hadn't finished, "It's OK. They seem happy. And I have a good relationship with them. It's just a bit of a haul to get to see them, fly to Dublin and then drive for three hours. So we don't see a lot of each other. They have their life and I have mine, or I had mine!" I added bitterly.

"Well sometimes a cuddle from Mum helps at times like these, even when you are a big boy. Maybe you should get over there soon. Tell me, how did you feel about your brother's death?"

I looked at him, was this the amateur psychiatrist in him, or had he seen something? "Well I was pretty cut up about it at the time. Paul and myself fought like hell all through our childhood. And then as we got older we began to appreciate each other more. I think we could have been really good friends. But there was always time to sort that out. He was in London, living his fun bachelor life. I was happily married here, remodelling the house and working hard. There was always time to build my bridges with Paul. And then suddenly there was no time." Tears welled up in my eyes. I thought I'd cried every last ounce I had for Paul, but suddenly they all came back.

Charlie quietly pushed the box of tissues across the desk. I guess they're standard issue in Personnel. He quietly waited for me to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. I looked up at him and tried to smile. "It's ironic. I wanted so much to cry about Beth this morning and I couldn't. Now I can cry for Paul and he's been dead for years."

"I suspect they're the same tears. Don't worry."

He just sat and looked at me while I composed myself. Eventually he judged I could talk, or at least listen, "Look, Tim. You've got rough times ahead. If you think that this isn't just a little weekend hiatus, then I suggest you tell someone at work. Whatever you do, you are going to be grist for the gossip mill in this place. You might as well start it on your own terms and tell a trusted friend. Think about it, choose your best colleague and friend and take them out at lunch time and talk. Its got to be done, and it only gets harder the longer you try to pretend everything is OK. Even with all the prurient gossip, people will be a lot kinder if they know what's happened."

He stood up. "Thank you for coming to see me, Tim. I know it couldn't have been easy. Look, I've got to go to a meeting, but you stay here and compose yourself and think about things. Have another cup of coffee if you want. Keep me posted."

He reassuringly squeezed my shoulder as he passed, on his way out of the door.

I guess I sat there for another quarter of an hour. I was conscious that the personnel staff were watching me, but discretely leaving me alone. It had felt easier having talked to Charlie. So I decided that he was probably right, I should tell someone else. Finally I went back to my desk. Not a lot had changed there.

I went to find Dave. David Finch was my best friend at work. He had joined about two months after me, and one grade below me. We had progressed in parallel. He was now my right hand man and my best project manager. He was also my eyes and ears on what was going on amongst my teams, always tipping me off to put right all the little things that go wrong in working teams. Dave was about a year younger than me, unreasonably handsome, tall and dark, with big soft brown eyes. There was some Italian blood in him somewhere. Dave's looks were his downfall. While I was the devoted married man, Dave never got very far into a relationship, at the first sign of a problem he would dump her and move on. There were always plenty of candidates for Dave's bed. Maybe the differences between us are why we worked together so well. That, and that we hardly ever saw each other out of work, we had these different lifestyles.

"Dave, you doing anything for lunch?"

"I've got to buy Maddy a birthday card. It's her birthday on Monday. Other than that, no, nothing. Why, you fancying a small half?"

"Who's Maddy?" I asked, although I should have known. It was his latest conquest. She apparently moved in a week ago. Another poor girl in the long line of recruits to the battalions of Dave's ex's, only she doesn't know it yet.

Rather than the pub, I wanted to walk in the fresh air. First it was more private, second, I didn't feel like eating or drinking. So I suggested that we went into town, we could get Maddy's card and a sandwich for Dave, and then we could stroll along the river. Dave, who was used to my eccentricities still looked a little askance at this suggestion. But if that's what his boss wanted to do...

Once we had done the little bit of shopping and had walked along the river bank to an empty seat provided by someone for others to sit and enjoy the view, I told Dave the full story. I found it easier than I had imagined. He was sympathetic, but there was little he could say or do. I knew that he would cover for me if work got a little demanding when I wasn't there or able to take up the strain. I didn't exactly swear him to secrecy, but I did imply that he should be fairly discrete with what he knew, at least for a few days.

Strolling back to the office Dave asked if he could change the subject. I was rather pleased that he did. He wanted to know what was going on with the ITP contract. Apparently the whole ITP team were very nervous but not saying a word, they must know something. I couldn't enlighten him. I told him about my lunch with Perry, but that didn't add much to our pool of understanding. He told me that Perry had eventually phoned in sick. I wasn't surprised when I thought about how much he had drunk yesterday. I told Dave about the call I'd received for a lunch at ITP. Neither of us could explain it. I think both of us worried that Perry was going to rearrange the department so that we were all working on saving his project, at the detriment to our own and our clients. I could only say I'd fight it.

As we walked through the office doors I saw Beth sitting in a visitor's chair in Reception. Dave disappeared in a puff of smoke! I looked at her, she stood up and looked at me. Neither of us said a word. The iceberg just landed in my chest, but it didn't freeze the raging tumult in my stomach. I turned to the Receptionist "Is the Conference Room free?" She nodded, not wanting to say a word either, probably recognising that something was going on, she just didn't know what.

I opened the Conference Room door, and waited for Beth to go in. I caught a whiff of her perfume as she passed me, she wasn't missing a trick. She was casually but sexily dressed, as white as a sheet and with sunglasses to hide what must have been very red eyes. Once we were inside, we naturally took positions at opposite ends of the long conference table, neither of us sat down.

I looked at her "Yes?"

"Please Tim, don't throw me out. Where am I to go? How can we talk this through if I'm sent away? Please...Tim..."

"I don't really care where you go. I guess your parents are the obvious choice. They aren't too far away, you could get back for your work, and you only have to visit that once or twice a week, and rarely in rush hour. But it's up to you. I just don't want you there when I get in tonight." I surprised myself with the reasonableness of my answer. Not one bit of shouting. Not one swear word.

"What are you going to do? We have to talk. I have to convince you how sorry I am. To make you realise that it will never, ever happen again. Please Tim, don't throw away so much that we had."

"I'm not throwing anything away. You threw it away. I'm just tidying up afterwards." I got real bitterness into my voice as I said that. I think I scored a hit with that one. Then I relented a little, "Look, if we try to talk now I will want to hurt you, to make you feel the hurt I'm feeling right now. I don't know whether its hate or contempt I feel, but it's not conducive to civilised discussion. If you want to talk you've got to wait until I'm ready to listen." I turned to leave, there was nothing more to be said, or so I thought.

As I got to the door she blurted out "I'm not a lying cheating slut. And don't you ever call me that again. I have never lied to you. I never cheated you of anything, I loved you and thoroughly enjoyed making love with you, always. And I'm not a slut. Except for Ken, I've been with no man since I started going steady with you ten years ago. I am not a lying cheating slut."

That stopped me in my tracks for a moment. But then I just kept walking.

Dave watched me come into the department. He came over "Are you OK?"

"Yes, sure." I lied.

I'm not sure how I got through the rest of the afternoon, but I did. There was one bright spot when Charlie came passed my desk, "I had lunch with Rose today. I don't know whether you know, but she works part time at Symmonds & Burtons, the agents in the High Street. I told her a little of your story, I hope you don't mind, she will be very discrete. She tells me that she has a one bedroom flat, new to the market coming on in about a week's time. She suggested that you might like it. It's a bit of a special case, it's a private family down by River Mead, they are having major work done on their house, and they want someone to live in the new conversion above the garage whilst the builders are there, as they are living in rented accommodation on the other side of town. There's a fifty percent reduction in the rent for the first year."

I was busy trying to remember where River Mead was, and then I remembered, it was down by the River! Actually, in quite a convenient and nice part of town. I hadn't given any thought to where I was going to live, but this might be the answer. So "I could be interested." I replied.

"Well Rose's suggestion is that she collects you from your house at about five tomorrow afternoon. She'll take you to see it, the owners will be there so you can meet them, and then she can bring you back to our house for supper. If its late afternoon, you can be her last appointment for the day. Say, if you have other plans."

I was taken aback by the kindness. "Well, I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing this weekend. I guess it's the weekend for moping, and crying, and being generally emotional. I doubt whether I'll be very good company. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rose loves a broken heart. I told you, that's her speciality. Look, if when you get in tonight things change, or even tomorrow, just phone me or Rose. We'll understand. Here's Rose's card, then you'll be able to get her if you need to. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow."

Not long after that, Dave came up again. "Some of us are going over the road for a quick one after work. I doubt whether you'll fancy it, but I didn't want to cut you out."

I didn't fancy it, but I fancied going home even less. "Yes, I'll come. Anything that makes sure Beth's had enough time to get out of there. I'll see you at close of play" I glanced at my watch. It was already passed five o'clock.

"Well if you're coming, let's go now. We'll beat the rush. And I don't want to be late for Maddy, I can't get enough of that body." He suddenly looked at me with concern. "Oh, sorry. I guess you don't need to hear about rampant sex at the moment."

"Don't worry. I do know the rest of the world is still turning. It's only my bit that has stood still, frozen in time. OK let's go." I headed for the door. "Aren't the rest coming?"

"They'll follow. Someone has discovered a website with a cartoon of George Bush and Tony Blair doing things to each other that I am sure are illegal in many parts of the world."

"I said I didn't mind hearing about other people's sex lives, but there is a limit!" It was the first time that day that I think I had given a normal, light-hearted reply. It felt good. It also reminded me that although I had just said that my world was frozen in time, it wasn't. Even for me things were moving on.

Dave and myself made small talk and minor gossip in the pub. He drank beer, I drank Coke; I thought the sugar and caffeine might do some good. And I certainly couldn't face beer. Dave sunk his pint, and let me buy him another one. That one he took a bit slower. I reminded him that he needed to get back to his Maddy. He looked at my hardly touched Coke and said there was no rush. Eventually I managed to drink most of it, with Dave protecting me from the cheerful banter of the rest of the TGI crowd. Dave looked at me and asked if it was alright if he headed for the delights of Maddy. "Sure" I said, and he left.

He must have passed Alice in the doorway. She got herself a drink and came over. "Hi, how's you?"

"Just leaving" I said. And left.

As I drove home I could feel real fear growing inside of me. I was scared she'd still be there. I couldn't face her. This afternoon in the office she had taken me unawares, and I coped, although I had found it difficult. To calmly walk in to our home, no not home anymore, just house, and meet her would be too much.

As I pulled into the drive I noted that her car was not there. I opened the front door quietly. It was totally silent. I went into the kitchen. It was empty, but there was one sheet of lilac notepaper on the table, with "I LOVE YOU" written right across it and the single rose in a stem vase beside it. I went into the sitting room. It was cold and empty. Not the warm friendly room that Beth and I had tried to create. I sat down and turned on the television. There was a couple shouting at each other. I turned off the television. I looked round, and then the little table in the alcove caught my eye. On it were our photographs. Of our wedding day. Of our graduation. Of this house as a wreck when we moved in. Of our honeymoon. My whole life was there.

Suddenly, I cried and cried and cried.

Eventually I stopped crying and for some reason, I don't know why, I went upstairs. I went into our bedroom. It seemed even more empty than the sitting room. I opened Beth's wardrobe to see if she had taken all her clothes. She had taken a lot of them, but there were still plenty there. And they smelled of her and her perfume. I held a dress to my face. And I cried.

I collapsed onto the bed and I cried. I wanted her back. The tears kept coming. I wanted to shout at her. I cried and I cried. I wanted to shake her and make her feel my hurt. I didn't seem able to stop crying. I wanted her back in this house where she belonged. My throat and face hurt from the crying. I wanted her to realise just what she'd done. The tears just went on and on. I wanted to kiss her and hold her just once more. And I cried. I wanted to wake up and find that this was all a ghastly dream. The tears were making the bed wet. I wanted to go back far enough that I could put right whatever silly notion had made her do this terrible thing. And I couldn't. It was too late.