We Had it All

Another couple of years went by when Debbie brought up the subject of returning to University. We were at home alone for once, the girls were at hockey practice or dance class or both. I asked her if we could afford it as she was the one who took care of our family finances. She admitted that we couldn't afford a conventional University, but if she joined the Open University where she could study at her own pace at home, then it was perfectly feasible. Her employer was going to pay her tuition fees, so the costs were well under control. I mentioned a few of the things that struck me as important, like, where will you find the time to study and continue to care for the children and will it affect our love life? Nobody said I needn't be selfish about things! She assured me that she had worked it all out and our parents had agreed to help when she had to attend tutorials or residential school.

Wait a minute, I thought, residential school? So I asked, "What's this about residential school?"

Once again she had her response prepared. She clearly had given this a lot of thought. I had a feeling that I had been ambushed. She replied quickly, "A couple of weekends a term plus a week long end of year residential forum, that's all it is. It's an opportunity to meet other students on the same course and of course or tutors. It's no big deal and I really want to do this!"

I had some misgivings, but the look of expectation of her face as she gazed into my eyes convinced me that we could do this.

So I said, "OK. One condition though, I can live with all of this, it's you that's got all the hard work to do, but if it starts to impinge on our children's upbringing or welfare, you need to stop, take a sabbatical or something till the problem's sorted!"

She jumped into my arms and started kissing me and things were developing nicely when the door banged and our eldest stood there hands on hips surveying the scene, "Gross!" Was all she said before disappearing into her room followed by the sound of heavy rock. She was into rock music for some strange reason, maybe because her Dad played it constantly in the car when we were all together going somewhere.

Debbie and I made up for it later that night and we had our best session in years. I managed to get it up three times that night and that was a first since before we were married! Agreeing to Debbie's proposals had some benefits and I pondered why I hadn't suggested it myself.

Debbie's course started with her having to attend a one day introduction seminar and she returned full of enthusiasm about her course and her tutor! His name was Mark Bennett and she told me that he was about twenty five, tall and handsome! That got me jealous, just as she was expecting and she teased me for weeks about it and the questions I had asked her about him. Even the girls joined in the teasing and I felt not for the first time in family of women, that I was being ganged up on.

Following Barry's lead, I had turned Professional and getting paid for my fights. The money wasn't great, but it all helped with the family finances. Debbie always attended my fights and still got excited from watching grown men batter the hell out of each other and our sex life was always out of this world following a fight evening. To supplement this extra income, Barry got me jobs working as a sparring partner to other pro's and because I suffered from cuts so often, I became adept at stopping bleeding from around the eyes. Soon I had a reputation as a good guy to have in your corner if you were susceptible to cuts and I was often asked to be in the corner as the cuts man. I got paid for it, probably better money than when I boxed myself.

Slowly, I cut down on my own fights and concentrated on sparring and corner work. My day job was still working as sheet metal worker, the only change being that I was now foreman and spent more time planning and pricing jobs than actually doing the hands on work. That meant that I got home by five thirty most nights, unless there was some gym work scheduled.

In order for Debbie to get the time off she needed to attend the occasional day or weekend seminar, Debbie's had agreed to working later in the evening make up he lost time. The girls were old enough by now to look after themselves and disciplined as far as their homework was concerned to get straight to it after school, so I took up the slack in preparing the evening meal for all of us. After dinner, the girls usually watched TV or played on X Box. Debbie retired to the spare room which we had set up as an office and studied. I was left to my own devices, so I played games on Debbie's work laptop.

We had our own computer for her University work. I soon got fed up with the games, so I tried working on creating spread-sheets on Excel, presentations on Power Point and even Project Planning. If I was stuck Debbie would help me out. I got right into it and started to find that I could use my new found competence at work and soon my boss was asking me to put together production schedules electronically. Up until then, we had a huge board with all the jobs and timelines on the back wall of his office, which worked fine unless he had a meeting going on! So I worked hard on introducing a system and when that was completed, had to explain how it worked to him and the other members of the management team.

3.The Final Years

Debbie's first year flew by and she had completed her modules on schedule. During that first year she had to attend two weekend seminars which meant she left us on the Friday after work before returning late Sunday evening. At first when she came back from these weekend trips, she was all over me and the sex was terrific, then after her end of year weeklong module, all that changed.

This had been her first full residential session and this was the first time we had been apart for more than the odd night here and there, since we had been married. That Debbie was excited about the prospect was beyond doubt. She spent hours packing and sorting the clothes she was going to take. Even the girls noticed and started to tease her about it. They were quite the young ladies now, Hazel was twelve and Gemma ten, both developing fast and were carbon copies of their red haired mother.

On the Monday night she phoned me and gave me a contact number at the residence where they were staying. We didn't have the money for a mobile phone, other priorities. On the phone she raved about the course and was full it. I asked her if Mark Bennett was there and she said, "Of course he is, he's my tutor. You're not getting jealous on me again are you?"

"As long as it's only Accounting and Finance that he's tutoring on, I've no need to be jealous have I?" I replied teasing her and laughed at my own joke. The truth was that I was jealous and was worried that she was drifting away from us.

Instead of winding me up about my jealousy, she took a different approach, "He's just my tutor, that's all, so you've no need to get antsy about him!" she replied. The acidity with which she laced the words surprised me and I felt a shiver of a premonition pass through me.

"I'm not antsy about him, I was joking, but you chose to take it the wrong way. Enjoy your dinner and give us a call tomorrow, love you." I said.

"I love you to and you have no need to worry he's all very professional and anyway he's married. Night, Night and kiss the kids for me." She said before breaking the connection.

The next night, she did phone but was she was in a rush to go to dinner and then they had some group thesis to write for the following morning, so it was short and sweet. She made a point of phoning the following two nights as well always about the same time. Mark Bennett's name was not mentioned, so I refrained from broaching the subject.

On the last day, their course was scheduled to break up early before they headed their separate way. Debbie had travelled by train and she promised to call me confirming the time her train would get in so I could go and pick her up at the station. She had said that they were breaking up after lunch, so she expected to catch an early train and be home by about four in the afternoon. It was knocking off time for me and I still hadn't received her call. I was starting to get worried and had to collect the kids at five from their Gran's so I had to leave the work and collect them. Once at home, I tried to call the residence number she gave me, but was told by the person who answered that they had all left immediately after lunch. Now I was really getting concerned, where the hell was she? Finally about nine, she called and told me she would get a taxi home as it was so late. I started to ask her where the hell she had been to this time, when she said, "It's a long story. I will tell you when I get home." And then she hung up.

Ten minutes later and she was home. The girls had waited up for her as they wanted to ask her all about her week away and to tell her how much they had missed her. I sat there listening as she related all about her wonderful work.

I remembered later, that at one point she said, "Actually, it was very hard work at times and some of the concepts they were teaching were difficult to grasp." She replied in response to a question from Hazel about why she had such dark circles under her eyes? It takes another female to see things that are pretty obvious to them and it served to make me look at her much more closely than I would normally, I guess I'm a typical male and had not noticed that she did look pretty beat until it was pointed out to me by my daughter. I decided to hurry things along a bit and suggested to the girls that it was time they were in bed. They took the hint and after making us both a cup of tea, Debbie and I headed for bed ourselves. I was looking forward to making love to my wife for the first time in the best part of a week, but when we slipped into bed and I tried to initiate a little loving, she spurned my advances and said, "Can we not do this tonight please? I'm just too tired and won't be able to give you my best efforts tonight."

Before I could stop myself, I retorted, "If it's an effort to make love to your husband let's just forget it, night, I love you." And I turned over and pretended to sleep, but she wouldn't let it lie. She sat up and pulled off her nightie and lay back down naked with her legs spread. "OK, come and get it. I don't want to deny you your pleasure!"

I was tempted to jump aboard, but the futility of making love to her in her present mood did not appeal. I turned back and gave her a cuddle and I felt her stiffen before I whispered, "Sorry, I know you're tired but I was expecting you back earlier. You did tell me that you were finishing after lunch. Where were you?"

"Mark asked me to go to his rooms for some personal tuition on a module I've been struggling with. It was too good an opportunity to miss and it really did help me understand it better by the time we were finished." She whispered back.

I thought about whether she was telling me the truth or not, but if she was lying, she wouldn't have mentioned his name, especially as she knew of my jealousy. No, I convinced myself, she is telling me the truth. If she was lying she would have had a better lie prepared than that.

When I didn't say anything, she said, "I'll make it up to you tomorrow night. I'm just exhausted tonight." We kissed and went to sleep. True to her word, she did make it up to me the following night.

That set the pattern that was to be repeated the following years. The one exception was after her second year, she had to take a year's sabbatical as she was pregnant again! She said we must have slipped up somewhere along the line, but I was not unduly concerned, in fact I was delighted at the news. Debbie took it philosophically and when in due course, our son Danny was born I told her, "Now we really do have it all!"

It was during her final year that found out that she was having an affair, or at least had a damn good reason to suspect it, might be more accurate.

Debbie was attending one of her weekend seminars and I was left holding the baby, quite literally. Young Danny was just coming up for three years old and the girls were, well no longer girls, they were young ladies, aged fifteen and thirteen respectively. I got a call early Friday morning from Barry asking if I could be his corner cuts man as his regular cuts man had been involved in a car crash. I told him that I was tied up with the kids and that if I can get my parents to baby sit, then I would be there. The fight was in Northampton and I calculated that it would take me about two hours or so to get there given the usual Friday night traffic. Then, I had a brainwave, Debbie was going by train to attend to her seminar at Milton Keynes and Northampton was not that far away, maybe we could travel together?

I phoned her work and was told that I had just missed her, she had already left. I was disappointed that we had lost a chance to spend a few hours together which was a rare event nowadays, but thought maybe I could drop in on her on the Saturday and buy her lunch. I called my boss and arranged to take the afternoon off and then went and talked my parents into babysitting duties. I went home, left a note for the girls, before grabbing my gear and getting into my old van for the drive to Northampton.

I arrived just as the programme was starting and went to see to my charge. Barry was at the end of his career by now and this was to be his final fight. He was already stripped ready for action, even though he wasn't on until the last fight of the evening. We sat and chatted and watched some of the action on the dressing room monitor. Most of the fights were being televised for transmission later, but Barry's fight and the one preceding it were for Pay for View subscribers, but they were transmitting it live into the dressing rooms. This was a big fight for Barry. He was boxing for the vacant World Middleweight title against a Columbian boxer who was more than useful. Barry was the underdog, but had home advantage. It looked like being a close fight and the hall was crowded in anticipation.

Just before Barry was due to enter the ring, his head trainer wanted to have some final words with him, so I slipped out into the hall to sample the atmosphere. As I stood there watching two fighters in the ring do their stuff, the local boy suffered in an accidental clash of heads and while he was still reeling from that, he was knocked out by a massive right hand from his opponent. The crowd were on their feet booing and shouting foul. Eventually the crowd settled down again and the fighters left the ring to return to the dressing room. The announcer was doing the build up to the main fight when I noticed this red headed female form jumping up and down as if trying to catch the eye of the winning boxer. I couldn't identify her from the angle I stood at, but she sure looked like my wife, red hair, not too tall and with a tight body that I could see was encased in a form fitting green dress.

I moved in an attempt to identify if it was my wife or not, but the fanfare sounded, the lights dimmed and the opportunity as lost.

I joined Barry and his team as they entered the hall. I was curious, I knew Debbie liked going to the fights, but I also knew that she had a tendency to lose control when excited, so it was imperative that I try and see if it was her or not! I had been the beneficiary of an excited Debbie many times and now had serious concerns.

I took my place with Barry's support team in his corner, which unfortunately was at the opposite side of the ring from where Debbie was sitting, so I could not see her because the ring was between us. The fight went as expected and I thought Barry was just edging it. I was not called upon to exercise my skills until the eighth round when a clash of heads by the boxer's drew a huge cut along Barry's eye brow. At the end of the round, I was first into the ring to work on his cut, all thoughts of Debbie forgotten for the moment as I worked hard to stem the blood. I managed to get it stopped and applied a large chunk of Vaseline in an attempt to protect it from further damage. The referee came across to inspect it and said he was tempted to stop the fight, but I pleaded with him to give Barry one more round. Reluctantly he said OK but if it opened up again, he would have no choice.

I told Barry he had to finish the fight this round as the cut was a nasty one and more than likely reopen f he took a punch on it. He just nodded and winked at me as the Seconds Out order was called. As I went to climb out the ring, I glanced over and confirmed that it was Debbie on the other side of the ring and my heart sunk. She was seated ringside and was wearing a dark green cocktail dress, one that was cut in a deep V which emphasised her full breasts. She didn't notice me as she was too wrapped up in whatever her partner was saying to her.

Barry got up off his stool and waded across the ring towards his Columbian opponent. They sparred with one another and the first few exchanges were ineffective, neither landing a decent punch, when his opponent, deliberately in my opinion clashed his head against Barry's. The blood literally spurted from the wound and the referee must have agreed with me and immediately disqualified the guy. There was uproar from their corner as I jumped into the ring and rushed to Barry's side to try stem the blood. It splashed everywhere and I noted that some of it had landed on her dress.

She was to wrapped up in the whole thing to even notice me as her partner was trying to stop her clambering into the ring. Thinking about it afterwards, I guessed she was trying to get at Barry's opponent.

Her partner had his arms around her from behind, his hands on breasts as he tried to pull her back and he was quickly assisted by the security men stationed round the ring who manhandled her away to safety. I don't know if she had recognised me or not, but that was the least of my worries at that point, I had to help Barry get patched up and off to hospital for some stitches. Barry was awarded the fight and went off happily to get his treatment and I accompanied him.

Later after he had been patched up by the professionals he sat with me as we waited for transport back to the hotel and said, "I take it you saw her then?"

I just nodded not rusting myself to speak and he patted me on the back and said, "Don't be too hasty in passing judgement, she may have a perfectly good explanation."

"She's supposed to be studying tonight, so what possible explanation can she come up with? Did you see her with that guy, she was all over him when I saw them earlier."

"Still, promise me that you'll give her the opportunity to explain before you go into attack mode."

Back at the hotel, we had a few drinks to celebrate before I excused myself and went to my room. I was not in a party mood! I saw the phone and looked up the number she had provided me for the Halls of Residence and rang her room. There was no reply! I tried again half an hour later, same result! I decided to go over there in the morning and have it out with her.

I checked out early, before Barry and the rest of his entourage were up and headed over to Milton Keynes. I found the Halls and went to enter but I did not have the pass code for the entry system. I had to use the entry phone and rang her room.

This time I got a response as a sleepy sounding Debbie aske who was there! I mumbled something about forgetting the code and she said, "OK. Give me a second and I'll press the override, but please don't make a habit of this."

She clearly hadn't recognised my voice and must have thought that I was one of her fellow students who had got lucky the night before.