The Escape

For the first year I never stayed in the same place long, moving every few days. I took care to be just one of the crowd, never doing or saying anything which would make me at all memorable. I should add that during that time sexual contact with a member of the opposite sex was both a distant memory and an unrealisable dream. Then I had a stroke of really hood luck. I had got a better job driving a fork lift in a massive warehouse and was seriously starting to believe that it might be safe for me to start putting down roots. One day I was waiting in the main office for something or other when I noticed that a young female at a nearby desk was struggling with a computer problem. Even at that distance I could tell what was wrong so I called out my advice. She couldn't quite grasp what I was saying so I ended up sitting in front of her terminal doing it for her.

Solving that problem uncovered another underlying one so that it was nearly an hour before I was finally tidying up and by then I had a small crowd of office workers gathered round me, some asking for advice and others just watching. Returning to my original quest I was intercepted by the office manager who offered me a job in the office at a far better salary but with the customary proviso of a probation period. I passed that with ease but the truth was that I had got the position on a wing and a prayer, so I devoted countless hours every evening studying to rectify the deficit in my knowledge base.

I won't detail how but I managed to set myself up with an official identity which allowed me to work legally, pay taxes etc, then concentrated on making that identity a reality. Gradually over the next two years, I changed my image, adopting a distinctive hair style together with a small moustache and goatee beard. I dressed very smartly with the funds now available and kept the fake spectacles but upgraded to frames more suitable for the IT professional that I now considered myself to be. The firm was part of a much lager conglomerate and I found myself sent out on detachment to other divisions to trouble shoot computer networking problems. After four years with the firm, it was on such a trip that this update really begins.

In my travels I had taken great care to avoid the area of the prison and the mountains but this time my rout took me within twenty-five miles, although my final destination was many miles further north. A company flat had been provided but not knowing what supplies had been provided I planned to stop off at a supermarket to buy some essentials before going to the flat. The trouble was that a major accident had caused massive tailbacks causing me to be more than two hours behind schedule. Worried that everywhere would be closed by the time that I got there, I pulled off the motorway intended to get my supplies on the way.

In the supermarket I bumped into Liz with 'bumped' being the operative word. As I was going round the end of an isle my trolley collided with hers coming the opposite way. We both accepted the blame and apologised in the way that you do and then I recognised her, she had changed very little from how I remembered. In a combination of joy and surprise I called out her name, a tide of happiness washing over me. Liz stared at me for nearly thirty seconds and then said hesitantly, "Jed is that really you?"

I enthusiastically nodded confirmation but said quickly, "But I call myself Peter now." I desperately wanted to get past the trolleys to embrace her but a stream of other shoppers started making tutting noises as they tried to manoeuvre past the obstruction we were causing. Instead I suggested that we park the trolleys and go in the cafeteria where we could talk and Liz nodded eagerly accepting the idea. Shuffling behind her as we moved along the line to get our coffees I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her but I managed to resist and decorum prevailed. However when we were both seated, in unison we reached both arms across the table to clasp hands.

"I want to know everything that has happened to you," she said. "I've spent hours and hours worrying about you, wondering if you had been caught or even that you were dead."

"I've been very lucky and I'm doing fine now I would never have made it without the cash that you gave me. I will tell you everything that you want to ask me but first I need to know what happened to you, Bob and Lucy."

"Financially we did very well, there was a big reward for the two killers and the Criminal Injuries Board have us a lot of money as well," Liz told me but then went quiet.

"I am so pleased for you, you deserve it but I'm more interested in you and Bob, are you still married, how did the two of you get over what happened?" I had to ask.

"Physically Bob has done marvellously, he still has a very slight limp but I reckon that he might easily have lost his leg if it hadn't been for you." Liz paused for a moment looking at my face before saying sadly, "His mind is a different matter. He suffered a complete mental breakdown and it's still going on although there are periods when he seems almost normal."

"I'm so sorry," I told her but everything else that I could think to say seemed totally inadequate.

"It didn't start immediately," Liz went on. "For the first couple of months he was fine, as if what had happened didn't bother him. We were constantly busy, dealing with the police and other authorities and the endless interviews with newspaper reporters and TV people. Bob really bought into the entire hero hype thing even though he must have known that it wasn't the strict truth. He actually revelled in the whole thing but when people stopped visiting he gradually changed. I noticed him becoming quiet and morose and then the dreams started. Nightmares is the better word because night after night, as soon as he was asleep he found himself back in the cabin again, helplessly watching me play the whore for that scum."

I watched Liz steady herself with a sip of coffee and then she said bitterly, "What makes it worse is the when his depressions started he becomes totally impotent and the attacks can last for months. Viagra and other similar pills don't help at all and nor do testosterone injections. The psychologist says that it's all in his mind."

"What is he like during the good times?" I was not happy with the information Liz was giving me and would have preferred to switch topics but it was something that she obviously wanted to tell me.

"Even then he isn't back to how he used to be, for instance he often mutters, 'It helps that all the bastards who had you are dead.' That shows that it is still always in his mind. He knew you were alive but he seems to have completely forgotten. That day, after you had left down the mountain before the police arrived, I kept reminding him to say there had only been two of them and somehow he must have started believing that."

"How is Lucy," I asked and was told that she was a happy balanced child, was about to start middle school at the end of the summer holidays and that she had never ever spoken about that dreadful interlude in her life. Then Liz asked about my story and I told her much that I have related above.

Eventually we both fell silent and our coffee mugs were empty. I realised that we no longer had need to linger and I had a cold feeling knowing that we were about to walk out of each others lives again.

"I owe you," Liz abruptly looking straight into my eyes.

"You don't owe me a damn thing, our survival is down to you and you alone," I told her fiercely.

Liz smiled, "I don't mean that, I'm talking about the fact that I owe you some loving. You'll never guess how much I have regretted going on strike with cooking if they didn't stop pestering me for sex all the time."

I knew immediately what she was suggesting and I had a momentary surge of hope but reluctantly told her, "I don't see how, especially with Bob being the way that he is."

"I'm no longer a faithful wife," Liz said bluntly. "I don't know if what happened in the cabin changed me or if it is a build up of need in the time since but I've got three regular lovers. They are all older men and married but claim that they are in virtually sexless marriages the same as me. I see them each once per month, always on Wednesdays and I meet up with them after I have done my shopping and we go to a motel. On the fourth week I spend the evening with a female friend and that's where Bob thinks I am the other times.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked softly.

"I need to, if only to get final closure on what happened five years ago," she said fiercely.

You will understand why my car was following closely behind hers as she set out for her usual motel but once in the room, although she must have been far more familiar with the scene than I, neither of us seemed to know what to do next, After a moment, to save further embarrassment, Liz took control and told me to go in the bathroom but to remain fully dressed and only come out when she called. It was three or four minutes before I heard her say my name.

Walking through I found the lights had been turned down low, the bedclothes were badly tangled and she lay on top fully naked. It was easy to see that she had tried as much as possible to recreate the scene in the cabin. I walked to the side of the bed and looked down but felt unable to go further until she reached out her arms to me. Apart from saying that what followed was absolutely wonderful, as with the cabin I feel it is far too personal to describe here.

Inevitably the dreaded time came for us to part and we stood facing each other ready to say our goodbyes. "Can I see you again?" I asked, it was the obvious question but without waiting for an answer I babbled on, "It won't be very often but I can manage to get back this way occasionally." Liz looked stricken so to ease the moment, I half joked, "I can claim your spare Wednesday evening," but she was sadly shaking her head even before I had finished speaking.

Reaching out to touch my hand she said, "I'm so sorry but the answer No. This has been wonderful and I'll remember it for the rest of my life but I daren't ever see you again."

"Why ever not, after what we have just done, you said yourself that you aren't a faithful wife any more? I said petulantly.

Taking my hand more fully into hers, Liz said softly, "Let me explain. I love Bob with all my heart and I will never leave him but I feel no guilt about having sex with my three friends because it is only sex. It could never be the same with you because I could get extremely fond of you very quickly and if that happened then I would really be betraying my husband."

We had a last desperate kiss and embrace and I turned and went out of the door knowing that I would never have the good fortune to know another woman like her.