The Women in My Life Ch. 10 Pt. 01

This history/story of the Women in My Life, like many dramatised true life programmes, has changed the names, dates and timings but has retained the true essence of the events.

But this part of my story is a slow burner, as it is less about sex and more about the beginning of love, with...

The Red Haired Woman (1988+ )

Having solved the problem with the month end analysis routine (and "celebrated" it with Lynn!), the next Ops Managers meeting was the following week. I met some of the other guys the evening before at the hotel that had been booked for us. We had mixed views on what to expect and on some of the personalities!

The meeting on Friday opened with Rob asking me to outline the problem we'd had with the monthly report and how we'd solved it. I could tell that Paul, who had written the offending program, was not happy at it being raised so openly. Nonetheless, I described how we'd archived and reorganised our databases, ran all sorts of reconciliations and backups before running the monthly analysis. The crazy results led us to finding the problem as being the use of two time and memory saving tricks. I explained their specific use and I did emphasise that, like Paul, I'd used them myself and they were a reasonable option. It was just that one in a bazillion unlucky data combination that caught it out. Rob thanked me and we moved on. I noticed Emma give me a quick wink and smile.

After the meeting, Emma called me over, saying, "I thought you were quite gracious to Paul in your explanation, but he didn't seem to like it at all! He seems to have an arrogance about him that grinds with me."

"Well, he's not my most favourite person here either!" I answered, "You know he interviewed me? Didn't take to him then."

"I'd forgotten that," she replied, "Still, I'm glad you got the job."

"Why, thank you." And after some other minor chat I left.

A couple of weeks went by and at the end of June, I went home to Blackburn to celebrate grandad's birthday. Saturday's party was great fun, meeting up with lots of family and friends. And drinking lots too! So Sunday morning I got up and went for a run to help clear my system.

I ran a route I'd so often run, across and through one of the parks. In a moment of madness, I decided to jump across a pathway to the grassy area next to it. I must have landed in a rut because my right ankle gave way and I ended up tumbling on the grass. In agony. Fortunately, someone saw me and taking one look at my ankle helped me to his nearby car and took me to hospital. I'd torn a ligament! I was put in a plaster cast and told to rest up for a week, then come back! Mum was both apoplectic at my injury and delighted at having to nurse me for a week or maybe two!

By mid afternoon that Sunday I'd rung Lynn to tell her my predicament. I also needed to let Rob know and, if needed, arrange some support for her. Lynn told me in no uncertain terms to "leave it to me". Several hours later, she rang back to tell me that she'd spoken to Rob and he was going to sort out cover. Someone would be with her Monday, or Tuesday at the latest. Lynn told me to rest up, don't fret about work and get better soon.

So I got spoilt by mum, sleeping in my old room, fed and watered and generally just talked to a lot! But I was really enjoying spending time with her and dad, though a little frustrated and curious about work.

On the Tuesday morning it got the better of me, so I rang the Computer room's direct line to speak to Lynn. Remember it was pre-mobile phone days so I had to use mum's landline.

It wasn't Lynn's voice answered, "Hello, Ops."

"That's not Lynn," I said, "who's this?" Knowing full well whose voice it was.

"It's me", she replied, "who's this?" in an amused tone.

"That's odd, it's me too. "

"Oh! it's you. Do you often talk to yourself?"

"It's the only sensible conversation I get!" I replied.

"Well, Lynn's told me ALL about you and what I need to do to placate your demands!"

"I don't know whether to feel scared or what. Especially of two women conspiring against a poor little man like me."

And so the conversation went on for another minute or so, bantering with one another. Emma really struck me again as fun.

"Anyway", she said, "Lynn's in a meeting. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Nothing specific really, I just wanted to know how Lynn was getting on and what support she had. I think I'm happy with the support she's got though!"

Emma told me that Rob had asked her late on the Sunday night and she'd agreed to travel up on the Monday morning after having spoken to Lynn. Lynn had insisted she stay with her rather than book into a hotel. So that's what was happening.

"She's a bit of a chatterbox though, isn't she?" Emma said.

"She can be." I replied, suddenly thinking what's Lynn telling her?

After maybe five minutes or so, Emma said, "Well this isn't getting my work done, so I think you should bugger off and let me get back to it."

"Yes ma'am!" I replied and we ended the call. I'd enjoyed speaking to her.

I didn't ring the next day but Emma rang me on the Thursday.

"Hi, I'm ringing to complain about the poor documentation you have. I'm trying to run program HV29E but it's asking me a question that's not in the instructions! How do I answer 'Run Mode'?"

"Mmm, what's it worth?" I asked.

"A big sloppy kiss." she replied, without hesitation.

"Will there be tongues involved?"

"Only when we're engaged." she said back equally as quick.

"Big ring?"

"Definitely big ring." she said.

Unable to think of a witty reply, a brief pause later I answered "OK, I'll start practicing my kneeling skills. Till then, it's LIVE. If you could make a note to remind me to remove that option when I get back".

"OK... and yes it's working now. Thanks. Hugs and kisses and back to work. Bye." and she was gone. I can't tell you how good I felt. Even mum commented after I'd given her the phone back. That was the start of her gentle badgering about my single status, who was this Emma, she and dad were getting on a bit now etc... I ducked as much as I could!

I rang again on the Friday morning, and again Emma answered. Having clarified some instructions, Emma then asked for the latest options and passwords she should be using for one particular job.

I said "Well, if you're desperate I can give you one."

"That's very kind," she replied, "and I'll remember that when I'm desperate but in the meantime I'd like to have the password!"

I just burst out laughing, realising what I'd said and how she'd played it back to me. Speaking to her just always seemed fun.

Later I found out that Emma had returned to Warrington on the Friday evening but came back Saturday afternoon. Lynn and Emma were out and about in the town having a good old time.

The second week of my incapacity saw me back at hospital having the plastercast reduced and physio commenced, with mum driving me to and fro. There was still communication between me and Lynn or Emma during the week. However, it was decided I could return to Wednesbury over the following weekend. Dad drove me in my car and mum followed in theirs. Mum was a typical loving mum, making sure washing was put on, the bedding changed, the place hoovered, food brought in etc.. I'd arranged with Lynn that I would return on the Monday, provided she would pick me up and drop me back home! Which she did. Emma could then return to Warrington.

Over the week back, Lynn talked about her time with Emma and some of the conversation they shared. The main thing that stunned me was that about three years previously she had been seriously/life threateningly injured in a car crash. Her husband of just over a year had been killed. A lorry in front of them lost a load of half inch steel bars, some of which came through their windscreen, fatally injuring Kevin [her husband] and piercing Emma's abdomen. She underwent emergency surgery, a week in ICU and a long slow recovery. Lynn said there was a strange sadness about how she told the events, as if there was something unsaid.

I found myself strangely affected hearing of her suffering. Saddened and somehow unable to do anything that could... I didn't know what!

What Lynn added was that she thought Emma was a lovely young lady and if I knew what was good for me, I should get my foot in the door! She was unattached!!

The next Ops meeting was that Friday but I was just not ready for the long drive, so we agreed that Lynn would attend in my place. She ended up staying with Emma on the Thursday night. I got taxis to and from work!

By the time of the annual shutdown, I was back driving, though carefully. My daily running routine looked like it was going to be a long time off, however. Lynn took the two weeks off and went with her friends to the Canary Isles. I stayed keeping things ticking over, as there was a big contract that the factory needed to complete. I went back to Blackburn for the middle weekend though. Emma rang a number of times but I didn't mention Lynn's confidential chat.

The August Ops Managers meeting was due. The most interesting part for me was the presence of Emma, though sometimes it was a mental distraction! However, late on the Thursday afternoon, I got a call from Emma, to apologise about a hotel problem. The one I normally went to had had some flooding problem and was closed, so she was struggling to find alternative arrangements. I offered to drive down the Friday morning instead but she said she'd sort it and get back to me. Lynn waved so I handed the phone to her to speak to Emma, as I went into the Computer Room.

When I got back home, as I was just about to eat, Emma rang to say she'd made alternative arrangements. Lynn had given her my home number! She gave me the address of the place, directions there and added, "Be nice to the landlady!"

I ate, packed my bag in the car and left. The instructions were easy to follow, getting there about 8:30pm, but the house was not what I thought it would be. As the door opened, I stood there surprised and wide eyed - it was Emma! "Don't just stand there, come in. You'll have the curtains twitching in a minute!" she said, smiling and looking furtively about.

Once inside she explained, as she busied herself making two cups of tea. "It was a pain in the arse, trying to find somewhere for all of you, so I took a gamble that you weren't some perverted axe murderer. Lynn didn't think so anyway."

We sat down with that cup of tea and just chatted. And laughed and in some cases finished one another's sentences! After a while I saw her smile and she said, "Heterochromia."

"Pardon," I replied.

"Heterochromia. You were looking at my eyes. They're different colours!" she said.

I leant slightly forward and stared again. "Wow, that's amazing!" I said, leaning back and smiling, "I think I like the hazel one best, though they're both... amazing."

"It's genetic," she answered, "my mum not so much but Auntie Mary's are a vivid brown and blue."

"Wow again!" I said, "What with your red hair and gozzy eyes, I'm wondering what other wonders your body holds." The words came out not quite how I meant them to, "I mean... well..."

Emma was smiling, which eased my embarrassment. "I think the rest of me is OK, my hands, my arms, my legs, my boobs are all the same size. It's only..." and then she stopped.

After a moment's pause, she asked, "Did Lynn tell you about the accident?"

"A brief comment about it, yes." I replied.

So she began her story. Kev and her had been married for some 14 months, they'd bought this house and things were OK, except for Kev's gambling habit. They'd argued and he agreed to curtail it. But he hadn't and had carried on in secret. They were in the car on the M56, Kev was driving, and they weren't talking because she'd found out he'd continued gambling and owed nearly £700. She didn't really recall what happened, and what she knew was from what others told her. They were behind a lorry that lost a load of steel bars, which came crashing through the windscreen, killing Kev. She'd had a bar stabbed through her abdomen. The Fire Brigade cut the bar but left it in her. She was rushed to hospital and operated on by Dr McIlroy. Her left ovary was severed and her womb scarred but not punctured. They said she was lucky, as the bar was millimetres off fracturing her pelvis. She was in ICU a while and off work for several months recovering at her mum's. The Police prosecuted the lorry firm and eventually she got a compensation payout. But Dr Helen [McIlroy], the gynae consultant who operated on her, has kept regular eye on her ever since. It was at this point that she paused in her tale, a sadness seemingly entering her. It reminded me of Lynn's comment about there being something unsaid. She looked at me, as if looking deep inside me, then continued.

"Once I was recovered enough, Dr Helen told me about losing my ovary and the womb scaring. And what it meant. There was a strong possibility that I might never conceive or be able to carry a child to term."

I was so moved by her confession, her obvious trust in me to confide such personal information.

"But only a possibility, not a certainty," I said, trying to lift her spirit.

She gave a brief smile but the sadness still seemed to be there. I pulled her to me and hugged her. She didn't resist, she just rested her head against me. We sat thus for several minutes then she sat back up.

"Why did I tell you that?" she asked.

"Whatever the reason, Emma, I feel... honoured that you confided in me. I will never break that confidence or trust. Ever." I told her.

"Thanks," she replied and then leant back into me. We stayed silent for a while, my arm around her. Then, still resting against me, she added,

"Lynn thinks a lot of you. She says you're kind, understanding, patient, gentle. She said any girl would be lucky to have you as a partner."

Though surprised and bit embarrassed at the comment, I joked, "Yeah but it's a pain keeping the halo polished!"

Then she laughed. And I laughed at her laughing.

After we'd calmed down, she asked, "More tea?"

So off we went to the kitchen. While standing there, waiting for the kettle, I said, "I think it only fair that I confess something to you. Not as... painful as yours, but personal anyway."

So I began, "When I was about 12, we were visiting my auntie Joan when her dog leapt at me, hitting me hard in the groin. Bear in mind my balls were only just dropping, so it bloody hurt. By the time we got home, the whole area was swollen and blue. Dad rushed me to the hospital. I was operated on and was in for a few days." Smiling I added, "My life long girl, space, friend, Chrissy, even wanted to see the scar! But it wasn't until I was 17, when I was busy trying to get my leg over Chrissy, that dad told me about the operation. It turned out I'd had an accidental vasectomy on my left testicle. They didn't or couldn't repair it. They told my parents that it shouldn't be a problem as the other one was working OK! I mean, at 17, to be told half your crown jewels don't work is quite a shock."

"Wow back!" she said, then "Did it stop you getting your leg over Chrissy?"

Feigning shock, I replied, "A gentleman never discloses such intimacies! But she did eventually see the scar."

That made Emma laugh again. And I laughed with her.

It was almost 2 o'clock in the morning by the time we realised the time. It felt like moments had gone by, like that feeling of catching up with an old friend you'd not seen for ages. On the landing, just as I was about to enter my bedroom, Emma kissed me on the cheek, saying "Thank you."

"Thank you too!" I replied.

In the bedroom, I lay there feeling relaxed, no sexual urge or tension, just a real sense of "I really like her"! Waking early, we had a simple breakfast of tea and toast then went out to the office... in separate cars and not arriving together!

The Ops meeting was uneventful, exchanging ideas and so on. Emma was in the meeting, taking notes. We both seemed to catch each other looking at one another, which I really found distracting! Just before leaving I went over to Emma's desk.

"I'm off now. I'd just like you to pass on my thanks to the landlady for her kind hospitality. Breakfast was a bit skimpy but I'll let her off this time. If she has a vacancy for the next meeting, I'd be quite happy to book in."

"I will do," she replied, "and I'll check with her and make sure she improves the menu next time as well."

From then on, I stayed at Emma's for each of the monthly meetings. It was noticed! Rob even commented on it, much later though. Shortly after, I also started driving down every other Friday after work to see her and stay.

When the September meeting was on, I stayed at Emma's on the Thursday night. Emma had been a bit subdued which she explained as period problems. There's not much a man can do when that happens! However, that Thursday night I was in bed about 11:30 when Emma came in unexpectedly.

"Turn on your side, facing the window please," she asked. Puzzled, but I did so. She climbed into the bed, behind me, adding "Just let me press my tummy against your bum. It may help ease the ache."

I felt her snuggle up behind me, her hand around my hip almost pulling my bum into her.

"Don't get frisky!" she warned.

"With this halo, consider me a monk." I replied.

I fell asleep remarkably quickly, with a very contented feeling. I woke to find my hand on Emma's and held across my chest near my heart. I didn't move for moments, again feeling a very warm contentedness, until Emma removed her hand and said, "Thank you."

As naff as it sounds, all I could say was, "Anytime!"

As we were leaving for work, with Emma at the door before me, she kissed me on the cheek, saying "Thank you for easing my tummy ache last night."

All day that gentle kiss and the look on her face kept echoing round my head and emotions.

From then, time seemed to drag until it was time to go to Emma's, but work and succession planning needed to be done. With Lynn deciding to return to Finance, we needed to recruit a new assistant. In discussion with Jim and Rob, I proposed advertising in the factory first for any new employee. Ultimately, it was Gary Lowell, the son of one of the shop floor machinists who got the job. I remember his dad coming to me one day, when I was on the shop floor, and telling me how grateful he was for giving the job to his son. I reminded him that he'd won it on merit.

I was now staying at Emma's every other Friday/weekend. For all the time we spent together, and as much as I liked her, I was strangely reluctant to make any moves on her. I knew I wanted to but I also knew I didn't want to pressure the burgeoning relationship. We kissed occasionally but not in any serious way.

For whatever reason, one evening as I went towards the kitchen, I said, "Em, can I get you anything?"

She looked at me, then said, "Why'd you call me Em?"

Not realising I had, I confabulated a reply, "Well, let's face it what with all those syllables in Emma compared to Joe, it seemed only fair to shorten yours."

"It's just that only my dad calls me that!" she replied.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

Smiling she said, "No. It's OK. Between you and me though."

Whether it was the excess of alcohol one Friday evening in late September, I don't know but our conversation came round to past relationships. Emma's was fairly straightforward. She'd known Kev since they were kids and he just seemed the natural partner for her. She confessed that her upbringing meant that she was a virgin bride. And since Kev's death she'd not really bothered with any relationships, even though her friends had tried to pair her off!

"I've not had any real relationships, as such." I said, "A few sexual liaisons rather than relationships. Do they count?"