The Way Back Ch. 03

We got back to the hotel mid afternoon each day and spent the time before dinner making relaxed and sensual love in the huge newly made bed. There is a peacefulness which arises between couples who fit well together and have no need to impress. We talked about all sorts of things, but often were silent with each other and the silence was comfortable.

I think that was what clinched it for me. We were comfortable together; our love making left nothing to be desired; she had said that she was past the stage of one-night stands and wanted loving commitment in her love making. Ann was marrying Derek and was settled. Our ages were disparate, true, but if she didn't mind neither did I.

So it was at dinner on Tuesday night, our last night before going home, that I decided to take the plunge and ask her if she would like to make our relationship permanent when she forestalled me.

"Allan?" I looked up from the excellent seafood platter.

"I need to tell you something. You know I said I wanted to join my family in New Zealand? Well, now you're settled back at your hometown, I've decided that I'll make plans to emigrate. I've begun the process already but I felt I needed to tell you as soon as possible."

It came as a body blow, or shall I say my stomach sank? Or the bottom dropped out of my world? Well not quite, but the shock on my face was obvious.

"Oh God, Allan!" she cried softly, "I never meant to hurt you! I thought--"

I found my voice -- and my self control.

"No Trish. It's just come as a shock, you telling me out of the blue like that. I suppose it would always come as a shock now we've become so close. I know I should have expected it; after all, you did say that it was in your plans, but somehow it was always going to be a wrench. I just wasn't ready for it to be so soon."

"Allan, if I thought you would come with me, I'd be looking at marrying you. You don't mind me saying that, do you?"

I shook my head.

"But you won't leave here, I know. You care too much about your business and the people who work there. And there are your children. I know you want to get to know them, but I need my family around me as well; my parents are getting old and will need me. My father has already had a slight stroke. Will you be all right?"

"Trish, my darling, I think I was shocked because we were getting, have got, so close. I have to admit I thought of marriage myself, but here, not New Zealand. You're right; I can't leave the life I've just rediscovered, though it will be awfully empty without you. You're so much part of me now and I owe you so much."

At this the tears came for both of us and we ate the rest of the meal in silence. Then we made for our room, stripped each other and fell into bed and hugged our nakedness together hard. Our hands roamed over each other as if to commit to memory every part of our bodies. I was hard and all she had to say was 'please', as she rolled on top of me. I was more than ready as she put me inside her and sank down until we were totally meshed together.

Then she fell forward and put all her weight on me. That in itself was symbolic, because for many weeks she had been unable to put weight on me without causing me pain. She was telling me that I was as whole as I'd ever be but that she too would always miss me.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her more tightly on top of me, and there we stayed for a long time, until she felt my erection begin to subside and sat up to ride me back to hardness, and then on to her own orgasm and to mine, her breasts swinging to and fro as she rose and fell, until I caught them and tweaked her nipples. It was enough and she cried out as she came, and I came after, sent over the edge by her own climax.

Afterwards she resumed her prone position and when my cock slipped from her, she in turn slipped off me and we cradled each other in our arms, rocking each other gently to and fro.

"Allan."

"Yes, my darling."

"It'll be some weeks before I go. Can we go on like we are until then?"

"Making love, you mean. Visiting each other?"

"Yes."

"Of course. I want every bit of you I can get until you slip from my arms."

She snuffled, and her face was wet, "There's one more thing."

"Yes?"

"If someone else comes along, you know, another woman, don't keep her at arm's length just because of me. Promise me you'll take her on."

"Trish," I half laughed, "I think that's most unlikely, don't you? Beauty and the beast is a fairy tale, you know."

At this she laughed through her tears.

"There's very little of the fairy about you, my boy. Believe me, I think you'll be surprised. You know, you are a powerful man: you own a company. Power is very erotic to women. Why do ugly politicians end up with stunning wives and even more stunning mistresses? It's power, and of course you're also very rich!"

I giggled. "You mean they'll only want me for my money?"

"Allan, once you've bedded them they won't be bothered about your money," she reached forward and tweaked my penis. "Believe me. You're a talented lover but your money and power will get them into your bed!"

I laughed. "We poor men are no match for you scheming women, are we?" and she slapped me gently.

"Go on with you," she scolded. "You can hold your own."

"I might have to after you've gone!"

"Dirty boy!"

And our joined laughter lightened the atmosphere.

Wednesday morning dawned wet and windy. We breakfasted early, I paid the bill and we were on the road home by ten. I drove. Trish had driven to Wales and indeed had driven the car everywhere while we were there; she loved the automatic car but she had a three hour drive back to Newcastle later in the day and I insisted she rest. So we were able to have some lunch at home before she set off.

"Don't forget, Allan," she smiled, as she settled into her car, "if a pretty young thing hits on you, go for it! It's an order!"

"Same for you. Don't feel guilty if you have another fling with Tim."

Her face clouded briefly before the smile resumed its place.

"No more flings for me. You'll do until I go, but I'll be hunting once I get down under! If you do find a woman you won't ditch me completely before I go, will you?"

I assured her that she would have first place in my affections and my bed until she went and she looked relieved. I bent and kissed her and she kissed me back hard, pulling my head down to her hungry lips. Then she was gone.

I felt at a loose end after she'd gone, so I got back in the car and went to the gym and had a strenuous workout. My trainer expressed his satisfaction at my fitness and my progress, and I went home feeling relaxed and satisfied.

On the way home I got a curry from my local take-away. While I ate, I watched the evening news, muttering at the poor use of English and the clear editorial bias in some of the reporting, but after it was over, I turned the TV off and put on some music, reaching for a novel I had bought in Conwy.

Geoff phoned before I could open it, asking if I was going to grace them with my presence on the morrow, about which I reassured him.

"And Friday, as well. You'll be sick of the sight of me, I'll be cramping your style."

After he had rung off with a few friendly insults about absentee landlords, I opened the novel, but couldn't settle to it. I thought of Trish and her new life in NZ.

She had been my support and my security for a long time, all my recent life. She was the bedrock on which I had built my confidence and pertinacity. She supported me when depressed, laughed about my disabilities when everyone else looked hesitant and pussy-footed around me, and afforded me all the love and sexual release I ever needed. Now she was going and I began to feel apprehensive about surviving on my own. In my head I knew I would manage, but my heart was nearing panic stations.

Though Trish always bolstered my confidence as a sexual partner and had always been there for me, I had never considered until she told me of her going, that I might be alone without a lover for the rest of my life. Trish had been my partner. I might never have another. She might be confident that women would fall at my feet; I had no such illusions.

So I began to feel depressed that she was leaving me. I felt deserted, almost betrayed, but immediately berated myself. After all, I thought, until last week I never really felt that we were a permanent fixture. At least we both knew where we stood. She'd done me the favour of giving me time to adjust. I felt a surge of love for this woman who was so thoughtful; though it made her departure all the more distressing.

My thoughts turned to work. Geoff wanted me to take care of contracts and indirectly of sales. I thought about that. My face would not improve much more. It was scarred and ugly. No eyebrows, a peculiar nose. At least I had my own lips, and a fine set of false teeth, mainly crowns, but my head was a different matter.

I had long been embarrassed at my patchy hair, and the bald patches where the scars showed through, until I realised that they would always be visible whether I had the rest of my hair or not. So I had shaved my head and usually wore a hat or a skull cap.

My knees were tender without being painful, but I could live with that. Thanks to physio and the gym my muscle tone was superb. I had a six-pack, though it was crossed by a scars from an operation early after my admission to hospital to sort out some internal damage caused by the kicking I'd received.

Mentally, my short-term memory was getting much better by leaps and bounds, and the very patchy long-term memory was getting closer to the present except for the lack of images, which I mentioned before.

My speech was slightly slurred, and my thought processes were slower than I would have liked, but they worked. I was absent minded; I mislaid things; forgot what I was looking for. I'd lose my train of thought and wonder what I'd been talking about.

These 'qualities' were not conducive to a good sales technique. Where I shone was in drawing up contracts and tightening them up. I was a hard bargainer, I remembered that. I decided I needed to talk to Geoff about this before I made a real mess of a negotiation. His confidence in my abilities was a source of pleasure but needed a dose of realism.

So the next morning I relayed all that to him and then sat back and waited for his response. He looked thoughtful and sat back in his own chair. Eventually he spoke; carefully, I thought.

"Really, what you need is a bloody good personal assistant. Someone who can handle things by themselves, and would therefore be in the best position to, shall we say, remedy your deficiencies. Right?"

It was my turn to think.

"That's roughly it, but a consultant wouldn't warrant a PA would he?"

"No, that's true, but you won't be incognito for much longer, and let's face it, though it may look odd, as managing director I can do what I bloody well want!"

He laughed his trade-mark short barking laugh (how did I know that?), then became serious. "Of course, your PA will have to know who you are -- and be able to keep it a secret."

"So?" I asked.

He seemed abruptly to change the subject.

"How's things with Patricia?"

I gave him the full story, and finished by explaining that we were freeing one another up while keeping our relationship going until she went.

"No chance of getting back with Ann?" he asked.

"I don't see the relevance of all this," I said, rather tersely, "but since you ask, I remind you she's marrying someone else! So no."

He seemed relieved, strangely I thought, since he seemed to be part of the 'get back together with Ann' campaign.

"The relevance is that I know just the person but it's a she. I just didn't want any complications with Patricia or with Ann, that's all."

"Surely it would be a professional relationship? Not good practice, sleeping with colleagues, less so with employees."

"Well, normally I'd agree. In fact that would be my policy, but you are a special case Allan. This woman will have to know you inside out. She'll have to travel everywhere with you: share meals, spend long hours with you, know all your weaknesses -- because of your condition," he added quickly, "a relationship that close..."

He broke off, his meaning obvious.

"I don't think so, Geoff. I think my unusual good looks will keep our relationship professional."

"Don't be too sure of that," he said dryly.

"So who've you got in mind?"

"Jennifer Tasker. She's a secretary at the moment, but sharp as a button [I wondered at the mixed metaphor, but he was continuing and I had to keep up]. Arrived about a year ago. Late twenties, early thirties, very reliable and can keep a secret I'm sure. In any case, if your identity leaks out she gets fired. She's not too aggressive either, knows when to speak and when to keep quiet, but she doesn't pull her punches when she's arguing, not a 'yes' woman. I think she'd be ideal."

I knew her. In fact I remembered her vividly, because what Geoff hadn't said was that she was gorgeous. She was small-boned, slim with honey blond hair, button nose, wide mouth and big doe-like azure blue eyes. Her figure was understated, but shapely nevertheless, and she had the best pair of long legs I'd ever seen on a woman, and wore shortish skirts to show them off. All in all, the most devastatingly beautiful woman I had come across -- in my memory of course. I wondered if she would be more of a distraction than a help; in fact I knew she would be!

"You'll need to see how committed she'd be," I opined. "Her boyfriend or partner might object to regular trips away from home with another man. I can see him being insanely jealous if another man even looks at her! Also she might not want the additional responsibility. Mind you, with our pay policy she'd be a fool to turn it down!"

"Well I'll get her in then. D'you want to be in on the interview?"

"No, I think I'll lurk in the outer office with Judy and listen in. It'll give me a better idea of whether I want her, and her attitude to me."

"D'you want me to tell her who you are?"

"No, I'll do that if she agrees. We can have a meal somewhere and I'll fill her in then."

"Allan, I should tell you that there are a couple of big deals coming along. You'll need travel abroad. I'll need to point that out to her."

"Fine. Go ahead."

I left the room as Geoff phoned for Jenny; I told Judy of my plan, and disappeared into my own office. Judy would call me when Jenny was installed with Geoff. I got the call and joined Judy round the intercom. The initial pleasantries were over.

"Jenny, I asked to see you because I have been watching you and you've shown great promise."

"Thank you Geoff."

"So I want to offer you something a good deal more demanding than secretarial work. It would be a promotion."

"Yes?"

"It would mean some travelling, staying away from home, both in this country and abroad. How does that strike you?"

"Sounds fine. I like to travel."

"Could you be a Personal Assistant?"

"Oh. But I thought Judy--"

"Oh, not to me. I'm offering you, with the usual increase in salary, the position of personal assistant to Len Jones."

Silence.

Geoff: "You want time to think about it? It's a good opportunity."

"You think so? I don't understand."

"He needs a personal assistant, and he will be travelling quite a bit." (That was news to me!)

"I still don't understand. Can I speak frankly?"

"Of course."

"And you won't hold it against me. Affect my progress?"

"Jenny, you know me better than that."

"Well. For starters, I don't want a part time job. I've noticed he only comes in every now and again, and when he's here he doesn't seem to do much. Also I didn't take this job to be a carer for a disabled man, and boy is he disabled! So the money would be nice, but if I'd wanted to be a nurse, I'd not be here would I?

"What is it Geoff? When he goes off for on his trips or weekends, am I to be his squeeze? Get the extra money for favours to a man who can't get it anywhere else? Sorry Geoff, I'd prefer to stay as I am. I'm not a whore."

Judy exploded. "How dare she? Stuck up bitch! She needs putting in her place!"

"Go easy Judy. She doesn't know who I am, or the story. Remember you didn't reckon much to me when I first came back, now did you?"

She reddened. "Well, OK. But that she should think that Geoff wanted her as your bedmate! It's disgusting."

"Listen!" I said sharply, We were missing the exchange in the next room.

"...and there's more to him than you know. Do you know how much he's saved the company since he's been 'coming in now and again'? Half a million, that's how much.

"He's aware that his speech is slow, so he's not good at sales, but he's second to none in tweaking contracts in our favour. He knows a lot about the business, but his memory is poor. He loses his train of thought.

"So he needs someone to be his memory, to work on the sales side, and to help him with the contracts. So you would be with him on his trips to supply those needs and only those. When he's not here, you would do the follow up work and any other work that needs catching up on, or that I need doing."

Silence.

"So? Do you want extra time. or shall I forget it and find someone else?"

"You're sure there's no other agendum?"

"There's a lot about him that he would tell you in his own time, but I assure you that he's a man of the highest principles. I think when you know him better you'll be impressed."

"Can we have a trial period, see if we can get on together?"

"You would have to ask him that. But there is one thing, he may have to tell you things about himself that must not, and I repeat that, must not be repeated to anyone else. Nothing bad, but he is a private person and doesn't want his private life discussed all over the company. Can you keep his secrets?"

"As long as he's not done anything illegal, yes. I can keep confidences."

"Then I suggest you go along to his office and talk with him, then come back and tell me what you think."

I 'sprang' up and went to my office, and in less than two minutes she was knocking on my door and putting her pretty face round it.

"Mr Jones--" she began.

"Come in Ms Tasker. I believe you want to interview me for the post as your assistant."

"No, Mr Jones, I want to talk about being your assistant."

I let a smile cross my lips, and she reddened, realising that I was joking with her.

"Sorry, Ms Tasker, I really shouldn't. You want to talk. So talk, ask questions. Do you mind me recording our conversation? My memory, you know."

"Please call me Jenny. And no, I don't mind you recording me."

"OK, Jenny, as long as you don't think I'm being too familiar. What you can call me we'll discuss in a few minutes, I'm sure. So, ask away."

"Well, Mr Jones, I can't see I'd have that much to do. You only come here now and again, and, if you'll pardon me, you don't seem to do much while you're here. Geoff says you've saved the company money, but I don't see how."

"So you think I might be after more than a PA, a nurse maid? an 'escort'? That it?"

She reddened again. "Oh dear, this is not going well."

"On the contrary, it's going very well. So you want to know how you'll be used, how much you'll get to do?"

"Yes."

"And you want to know more about me?"

"Well--"

"Look, Jenny, there are too many mysteries here for you to make a decision on such a serious matter. There are more important things than higher salaries, aren't there?"

Again she looked thoughtful. "You seem to be reading my mind, Mr Jones."

"Right. Here's the deal. I'll fill you in on all the details you need, and a few more than you want probably. But, and there's a big but... If anything of what I tell you gets to anyone here, or to any of your friends and I find out, you'll be sacked immediately, that will be part of the contract. You understand?"