SEVEN YEAR DITCH
TROLLS:
There’s a cheating wife here. Put a finger on ‘Chris’ and track it through to the end. Just for fun, see if you can read it without moving your lips. Then go to the comments section and whine about ‘cuck’ and ‘slut’ and so on.
NORMAL PEOPLE:
A revenge story with some sex. As usual, not heavy on body descriptions. Constructive feedback appreciated.
Chris first met Nick when it was pissing down with rain. He was driving to work, wipers at full speed, and there was this drenched man. The bonnet of his car was up and he was standing in front of it, kicking the grille. Chris had to smile. He’d had his fair share of crap cars when farther down the corporate ladder. And couldn’t help but laugh when the bonnet crashed down and trapped the guy’s tie. He pulled over.
“I don’t know much about cars, but can I help?”
He got out and released the catch, and the bonnet shot up again. The man jumped back to avoid getting smacked under the chin, and sat down in a puddle. Chris helped him to his feet and bundled him into his car. They sat side by side for a moment, watching the rain slant down.
“I hate Wednesdays!” he said, more to himself than Chris.
“Too far from both weekends.” Chris concurred.
“Now I’m ruining your seat.”
“You’ve ruined your tie too.”
It was, well had been, bright yellow, and he held it up and studied it, as if seeing it for the first time. There was a black oily mark across it.
“Fucking loaners!” he shouted.
They looked at each other and laughed.
“I’m Nick Cooper. Thanks.”
“I’m Chris Jaggers. You’re welcome. I’ve had cars like that in the past. Been there, done that, got the wet arse!”
“It’s not even mine. Mine’s in for repair.”
They chatted for a couple of minutes. Then Nick dashed to his car and retrieved his suit jacket. Chris handed him a small towel which was always kept in the car. England had a lot of weather like this in the autumn. He wiped his trousers and cleaned his shoes with it. Then combed his hair while Chris drove him to his appointment.
On the way, Nick explained this was an interview for a major contract with a finance company. He was just starting up his own IT / security business, and this might be the big break. Outside the building, he looked at his watch.
“Just in time. Thanks again.”
“Your jacket will cover the worst of your wet trousers. Take my umbrella.”
“I can’t do that, what will you do?”
“I’m a manager Nick. That’s why I can do this, and get to work late. I have my own space in the underground carpark. Nearest the lifts I might add.”
He took it.
“Don’t worry. Everyone will be a bit dishevelled in this weather. Here, take my tie too.”
He protested, but did so. They agreed to meet in an Italian restaurant the following Friday evening.
*
“Are you sure you won’t come Liv?”
Olivia and Chris had been married two years now. He should know better than say ‘Are you sure?’ She was always sure.
“Who is this Nick guy again?”
He’d already told her the story of meeting Nick Cooper in Wednesday’s rain, but she’d been distracted as usual. So he told her again.
“I’ll give it a miss thanks. He wants to thank you, not me. Go and have dinner and a few beers, I’m meeting up with some workmates again tonight anyway.”
That night Chris got a new friend. Turned out Nick had been pitching for a contract to provide security to the company, and thought he was merely being assessed. But after a two hour session, was given a document to take away and study. The job was his as soon as he signed.
“Well I manage the contracts department of our buying division.” Chris said. “Perhaps I could look at yours.”
“You’ve done enough already. I’m sure it’ll be all right.”
“People who begin a sentence with ‘I’m sure’ — usually aren’t. It won’t hurt for me to give it the once over.”
“But it’s Friday, I have to take it in Monday morning.”
“No problem. I’ll meet you in The Nightjar tomorrow lunchtime. You can buy again.”
*
There was no point inviting Olivia to that meeting either. She worked hard during the week and deserved her night out with the girls. He knew she must have overdone it, because there was no rousing her Saturday morning. He left the coffee on, for when she finally surfaced.
The Nightjar was not busy and they found a quiet table. Chris read through the contract.
“Is it all right?”
“It’s fine, but you could request one change. They’re imposing a six month trial period. It’s standard but you’ll have a lot of capital invested by then. It’s worth asking for it to be reduced to three; show them you’re no pushover. The worst they can do is say no.”
“OK. I’ll try it. By the way, I forgot to give you this.”
He handed over the tie.
“Where did you get it?”
“This? I can’t remember, I’ve had it years.”
“Only their general manager seemed to be staring at it. And he said ‘Nice tie’ as I left.”
Chris turned it over and examined the label. ‘Biddiscombes’.
“My God, it’s my old school tie! What was his name?”
“James Prescott. Maybe you could get in touch.”
“I remember him! No, nasty piece of work. He’ll be fine with you, but I’d rather not see him again!”
“OK. Anyway, it did the job.”
*
They remained friends. Nick got invited to dinner many times, and always raved about Olivia’s cooking. He remained stubbornly single, and repaid them with expensive restaurant meals. Often they were a foursome, when Nick brought along ‘his latest squeeze’. But, attractive as they were, none ever appeared more than twice.
He once confided he liked the idea of being married, but hadn’t started looking until after that wet Wednesday when he’d landed his first big deal. Then he’d met Olivia.
“She’s spoiling me for anyone else Chris. You two seem to be the perfect couple. Where will I ever find someone like her?”
Chris was about to argue they were not perfect. All marriages had their ups and downs. But what they had was so close to perfection, there was little point in arguing.
“The fact is, I fancy her.” confessed Nick. “No-one else measures up. No offence intended.”
“None taken. Lots of guys fancy her, it makes me proud. Well, smug might be a better word. She flirts outrageously and seems to make everyone love her. But we know where the lines are drawn, and I trust her implicitly.”
“I’ve flirted with her myself.” he confessed.
“I know you have.”
“Yes, she told me you both flirt. I’ve a pretty good idea where your lines are drawn.”
*
A year later Nick did something outrageous. His now established company was just beaten to a contract with a massive multi-national. He brazenly informed their CEO they had made a mistake. Once the rival system was installed and tested, Nick by-passed it and stole a million pounds. The new contractor was called in for explanations, before the police got involved.
After thirty minutes of heated recriminations. Nick burst into the meeting and told them what he had done. It was not really stealing of course, the money would be found in the CEO’s personal bank account.
“These clowns came to you with a flashy PPT demo, a bunch of fantastic promises, and that lady there… ” he pointed, “… flashing her stocking tops!”
He remained silent through the ensuing uproar.
“I’ll leave before you throw me out. But get rid of this cheapskate outfit. I’ve shown you how bad they are. If you use me instead, I’ll pay you a million pounds if they can ever break in past my internet defences.”
Six months later, they quietly awarded Nick the contract. He increased his staff threefold, and his income by a factor of ten.
*
It was four years later, and Chris and Olivia would celebrate their seven year anniversary in mid-November. It was still some months away but he was wondering what to get her. It was supposed to be copper or wool, which did not sound very romantic. In fact he’d read somewhere that symbols for this anniversary were particularly difficult, because of the so called seven year itch. Even centuries ago, it was recognised as a trying time.
Chris thought it was all nonsense, but it made you think. Olivia seemed to be snappy of late, and their sex life was on the wane. They’d had a holiday in the south of France in early June. She’d enjoyed it well enough, but it did not appear to have given her much of a boost. He tackled her on the subject.
“I know what you mean, and it isn’t you.” she admitted. “I just feel… I don’t know… unfulfilled.”
“Maybe we… ”
“Stop there Chris. I’m not explaining myself very well. It is not you. I don’t need us to change anything. I’m just out of sorts. The menopause isn’t for years yet, so it can’t be that. Just be patient, it’ll blow over.”
So they left it at that. But it continued to niggle. Perhaps there was something to this seven year itch, after all.
*
It was mid-June, and they were going to a house-warming party held by Brian Nash. A house extension warming, to be exact. He was on the board of governors at the school where Olivia was deputy head. Chris didn’t like him; he always seemed to be looking down his nose at people. She could hardly be expected to stay away from him, but Chris hoped there would be no dancing.
“How do I look?”
“Fantastic, very sexy!”
And she did. The dress was a modest knee-length, and had a scooped neckline and back. The material was wool, and Chris had never seen it before. It was almost flesh-coloured and gaps in the ‘knitting’ made it nearly see-through.
“Wow!”
She smiled.
“I wanted to buy myself something sexy.”
“You succeeded!”
“I know a house-warming party is not the most appropriate showcase for this kind of outfit, but we may not get out much more, before the round of Christmas parties.”
“No problem. Are you wearing a bra? It’s hard to tell.”
“Actually, the weave is tight enough not to be transparent. So I bought these at the same place.”
Olivia slipped the dress off her shoulder to display one exquisite breast. Chris noted two things. First, how easily that shoulder slid down, considering how form-fitting the rest of the dress was. Second, her nipple had disappeared!
“They’re nipple covers. This dress is supporting, only the neckline is loose, so I don’t need a bra. And although the apertures in the weave are not big enough for me to poke through, these are a precaution. For what it’s worth, they’re non-reflective. In case there’s any flash photography!”
“Trust me babe. Every male will be taking home photos of you tonight!”
She grinned.
“You don’t disapprove then?”
Chris noticed something in her tone. He was certain that Olivia’s decision had been made. She was going to the party dressed like this, whether he approved or not. Part of him was tempted to express reservations. But why rock the boat? It would only provoke an argument, and she was in such a good mood.
“Not at all, as long as you stick to our rules. And I would like to be the one who removes those nipple covers when we get home. Preferably with my teeth!”
“Deal!”
He thought this was the first time she’d sounded really enthusiastic about sex in weeks. Maybe the party would not be so bad after all.
+
And they did have rules. Not written down, but discussed in bits and pieces as they’d first cropped up. Now, after six years of flirting, they were understood and agreed upon. There was no doubt where the boundaries lay; her with other men, and similar rules for him and other women.
Olivia could flash an upskirt or a downblouse, as long as it appeared accidental, and was not too frequent. She could hug anybody, and kisses on the cheek were allowed. A peck on the lips was acceptable on birthdays and public celebrations. When dancing, slight contact with breasts was ok, as was a gentle squeeze of her buttocks.
But the rules were more precisely defined by what was not allowed. No open-mouth kissing and tongues, or aggressive groping of the buttocks. Absolutely no hands under her clothing. Her breasts and thighs, and beyond, were out of bounds. And she would never touch a man’s penis, even ‘accidentally’ through his trousers.
+
In the taxi on the way there, Chris realised he had not enquired about her panties. There was certainly no visible line. Could be a tiny thong, or nothing at all. He didn’t dare bring it up now. She’d only accuse him of checking up on her, and he didn’t want to spoil the moment. He put one hand on her knee and slid it under the hem of her dress. She picked it up by the wrist and put it on his lap.
“Original pantyhose,” she stated. “as opposed to normal tights. It becomes a seamless cotton panty where it needs to. Nude colour of course.”
“Of course.”
He knew she was answering his unasked question, and felt suitably guilty.
“Olivia! Welcome! Oh, hello Chris.”
‘And so it begins’ he thought. ‘Subtle, but only just.’
Brian Nash gave Olivia a bear-hug, and lifted her off the floor. Far too enthusiastic; he wasn’t even a work colleague. The greeting was noticed by some of the people nearby. As an afterthought, he shook Chris’s hand, a brief pump that was unnecessarily hard.
He whisked her away ‘to meet some of my people’, holding her arm. Chris sighed, but thought about the sex he hoped to have later.
“Bossy bastard isn’t he?” said a voice in his ear.
“Nick! Haven’t seen you for ages! I didn’t know you’d be here. How long have you known our host?”
“Come on, let’s get a beer.”
He steered Chris to a table set up as a bar.
+
“You haven’t seen me because I’ve been out of the country. Croatia to be precise.”
“Holiday?”
“Yes and no. I’m building a house in Orebic, a villa really. Building regs are complicated but we’re getting there. Adriatic coast, orange trees, clean sea, clean air and English spoken, if not widely.”
“Wow! You’re leaving us?”
“Not exactly. I’m making so much money, next year I’ll become a tax exile; only live here five months of the year. I already divert a lot of my income to the Cayman Islands. From there, it’s redirected to Croatia. You’ll have to come and visit once it’s completed. I tell you: Croatia has the most beautiful girls in the world!”
Chris looked across the room and saw Olivia chatting with Brian and ‘his people’. She looked animated.
“I’ve asked you before, but I’ll try again. Why don’t you leave your company, and work for me?” asked Nick.
“You did ask before, and I bleated about pensions and job security. But you still seem to be on the up and up.”
“I am. And I can pay you double what you’re getting now. Fund your own bloody pension!”
“I must say, it’s tempting. But IT is not my strong suit; my mobile phone is still playing up and I can’t figure it out. Sure, a change would be good, but I would not want to be hanging around like a spare part. The Victorian work ethic and all that.”
“But my reps go out and get the work, and my techies do the installations and testing. I actually need a contracts manager, like you. We fucked one up recently and got taken to the cleaners. I could afford the loss of course, but it’s the principle of the thing; I don’t like being screwed. If we’d had you on board, you’d have spotted it. Shit, if you wanted to move, you could do the job from anywhere.”
“I’ll think about it.”
+
Olivia was buzzing. She’d been attracted to Brian Nash for years though never done anything about it. But recently their paths had often crossed, and she thought he looked more handsome than ever. He told her his wife was going through the menopause and had gone off sex completely. He was frustrated and strangely, so was she.
The holiday in France with Chris had been lovely, yet somehow unstimulating. She had no intention of leaving him; he was a good husband and a great provider. But, increasingly, she felt she needed more. Excitement? Danger? She wasn’t sure.
*
She knew her friend Caroline had gone through the same thing, and had discussed it with her husband. Finally, Geoff had given her a ‘Get out of jail free card’, for one weekend only. Caroline had gone away to a small hotel in the Cotswolds, with a young stud from her office. She claimed they’d had sex more than a dozen times. She had returned to her husband rejuvenated. Now their sex life was better than ever. She would never stray again.
Caroline had insisted that it was nothing to do with how well hung the man was. It was simply everything. The sheer difference. His enthusiastic efforts, his lack of technique, lack of body hair. Olivia envied her. She doubted if she could ever get Chris to agree to something like that; he was far too wrapped up in their ‘rules’ for one thing.
She had told Caroline about flirting with Brian, but Caroline had stopped her. It was get your husband’s agreement, or don’t do it. They had argued and she had refused to go swimming with Olivia. Ironically, she bumped into Brian that same day. He’d gone with her, and there had been some fooling around in the pool, and even more in his car afterwards.
+
“Enough Brian! I served my apprenticeship in the backs of cars when I was seventeen.”
“Where then? I’ve got to have you. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you!”
Olivia was sure his passioned plea was faked, but it was still passion. She was flattered despite herself.
“If it’s meant to be, an opportunity will present itself.”
“I don’t believe in fate, Olivia. I want you now.”
He took her hand and placed it on the throbbing bulge in his trousers. That certainly wasn’t fake. She removed it.
“Enough, I said. I’ll tell you when.”
She had kept him more or less at bay till now. And realised she wouldn’t need a whole weekend to satisfy this urge. Once would be enough.
+
“As for Nash, he got his whole security system upgraded when he completed the extension and swimming pool. Locks, external and internal, and all the IT. He invited me as a thank you.” said Nick.
“I thought you only dealt with big business these days?”
“Usually. But our reputation marches before us. I’ve also done private premises for a solicitor and a high court judge. You know, just in case.”
“Clever.”
“Nash offered me double our normal rate if I would personally do the work. Then doubled it again when I’d finished, to buy my silence. He’s a dirty bugger!”
“In what way?” asked Chris, though he had a good idea.
Nick had witnessed the embarrassing display when Chris and Olivia arrived. So he broke his vow of silence, and told the whole story.
+
Brian Nash was rich, and could easily afford to pay over the odds for the extension and updated security. But his wife Patricia was even richer. Without her knowledge, he’d instructed Nick to set up discreet spy cameras. Several in the biggest guestroom, which could be electronically locked. It also happened to be the room farthest away from the master suite. There were more cameras sited in the jacuzzi, pool, changing rooms, and hot tub. The latter even had some below water level.
But Nick had uncovered the biggest surprise by accident. While laying a cable across the the bathroom’s false ceiling, he had slipped and knocked a bottle of cologne off a shelf.
+
“English Leather if I recall correctly.” Nick said. “It was in a fancy wooden box, except the box burst open on the floor and there was no cologne in there. It was full of roofies and E’s, packed tight with cotton wool.”
“Full of what?”
“Rohypnol, I’m guessing to knock his wife out, while he plays around in the guestroom. Ecstasy, presumably to get his victims in the mood.”
“Jesus! Is that legal?”
“I’m not sure, but the way they were hidden suggests a lot of subterfuge. Anyway, nothing’s hidden from me now. I’ve routed everything he records back to my computers. It might be a good idea to send it to yours as well.”
Chris’s heart sank. He knew why, but asked anyway.
“Why?”
“Because I think Olivia may be next. In fact I think they may have already done the deed. Sorry mate.”
“Go on. Don’t apologise, tell all.”
“I saw her and Nash at the swimming pool.”
“Oh fuck! She said she was going with Caroline.”
“I don’t know a Caroline, perhaps she was there, but Olivia was definitely with Nash.”
“What did you see?”
“I only saw them the one time, before his pool here was finished. Sexual activity is banned in the Lido, and there’s no sneaking into the wrong locker rooms. But when they were getting out, he reached up to help her climb the steps. A hand on her buttocks would be one thing. But his hand didn’t touch her there, it went all the way up one thigh, fingers under the goodies.”
“They didn’t spot you?”
“No. I arrived as they were leaving. And I had a swim-hat and goggles on.”
“Jesus!”
“Look Chris. I need to ask you something before you have time to digest this. Where is your marriage going, if they do have an affair? You know what I’m asking.”
“Straight down the toilet mate. If I’m not too late, and I can pull her back from the brink, we might recover something. But if she goes ahead and does it, we’re over. Divorce time.”
“OK. That’s what I needed to know. It affects how I feel about Olivia.”
“Don’t tell me you want to a crack at her if we split!”
“No, far from it. People always say they’re not taking sides. But that’s bollocks. They do, and I’m on yours. Here, change the subject. Let me have a look at your phone.”
+
Olivia was flying now, and the effect felt like more than just a few glasses of wine. She danced with Brian and tried to manoeuvre him between her and the rest of the room. She couldn’t see Chris anywhere, but guessed that Brian would try it on.
Sure enough, he clutched her buttocks and seemed to be pulling them apart. He was so brazen it added to the excitement. She was getting very wet and the pantyhose were failing in their duty. Any moment now, people nearby would notice. God, but it felt wonderful; ten more seconds and she’d tell him to stop. Then he picked her up again and twirled her round. Idiot!
He took her back to the group of friends and passed her another drink.
“Not yet Brian. I’d better go and check on Chris. He’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.”
‘Just the way you are’ started. Brian’s favourite song. He reached to pull her back.
“One last d… ”
He grabbed her shoulder and accidentally pulled the dress down, exposing one breast.
She spun round, furious, covering herself up again. But he looked mortified and everyone laughed. With her, rather than at her. She could see it was an accident and laughed too. Brian covered his face as if in shame, but was grinning.
‘At last!’ he muttered. ‘Pity about the nipples!’
+
“I said I’ve fixed it.” said Nick.
Chris was staring across the room, miles away.
“I said… ”
“Yes, sorry mate.”
“Did you know there’s a tracker app on here?”
“What?”
“Someone can see exactly where you are, probably on their own phone.”
“Why?”
“I think that’s obvious isn’t it? The question should be ‘Who?’. Have a guess.”
“Liv? I hardly ever go away on business, or anywhere else. She always knows where I am.”
“Well somebody’s checking on your movements. Meet me tomorrow lunchtime at the Nightjar again. Midday?”
+
They didn’t get home till after one in the morning. Chris was half-expecting a rejection, but Olivia was more than willing. It was the best sex he’d had this year, and he had never known Olivia to be so wet; her pantyhose were ruined. She was so hot when he entered her, he vaguely wondered if she might have some sort of infection.
“Mmm, I needed that!” she sighed later.
“Me too!”
Next morning he prepared a late breakfast. As they were finishing the coffee, he broached the subject.
“We should talk about last night, Liv.”
“It was fantastic, love. I came twice!”
“I meant the party.”
“What about it? It was fun.”
“You broke the rules.”
“I did not.”
“You got your breasts out.”
“I got one out, as you put it, and it was a complete accident. A wardrobe malfunction.”
“And you all laughed about it.”
“Of course we did. Surely you don’t expect me to run off to the toilets, crying like a little girl?”
“OK, accepted. Brian grabbed your arse, too intimately.”
“Brian is not party to our ‘rules’. He got a bit carried away, that’s all.”
“And he got far too carried away when we arrived.”
“Why don’t you grow up? I didn’t do anything wrong, you’re describing things that were done to me. You want me to say sorry? Forget it, I had a good time.”
“I’m not suggesting you should apologise. But there is something I’d like you to do.”
“What?”
“I want you to stay away from Brian Nash. And if we, or you alone, run across him socially, keep him at arm’s length. And please do not dance with him again.”
“That’s outrageous! You can’t order me about, or choose my friends!”
“I’m not ordering you to do anything. I’m asking politely. If you’ll just hear me out, I’ll tell you why it’s so important. Will you listen, without losing it?”
“Go on.”
“After he grabbed you as we arrived, he winked at me, like we were sharing some dirty secret. When he grabbed your arse on the dance floor, he deliberately swung you around so he could wink again. And soon after your breast was ‘accidentally’ exposed, he walked past me, gripped his penis, and said ‘Nice tits!'”
“He did not!”
“Yes he did, what would be the point of me lying? And you shouting a denial does not make you right. None of this may seem significant to a wife. But to a husband it’s humiliating. He’s letting me know he reckons he can have you any time he chooses, and I can’t stop him.”
“You’re imagining things. He’s a nice man.”
“If you don’t believe me, call Rob or Marge Parsons.”
“What?”
“They saw his macho demonstration when we arrived, and were embarrassed for me, especially when I got that mild ‘Oh, hello Chris’ after he grabbed you. Call them, right now, and ask them if I’m right.”
“I will not!”
“Why? Scared I’m telling the truth?”
“You’re being paranoid.”
“OK. Let me try a different approach. I’m paranoid and ridiculous, I admit it. But indulge me anyway. I dislike Nash and he feels the same way about me. I am quite sure he’s after you. So, please stay away from him.”
“This is just stupid. I rarely see him. Why didn’t you mention all this last night, if it was so important to you?”
“Because I was horny and you were hot. I didn’t want to spoil my chances.”
“What? You kept all this bottled up so you could have sex with me?”
“Listen to yourself Liv. You sound like Lady Bountiful, doling out sexual favours if I’m a good boy. If I had mentioned it last night you’d have lost temper, like you’re doing now, and we would not have made love at all. I think that says more about you than it does about me.”
“Read my lips. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Well, at least we can look back on this conversation and agree I at least tried to be reasonable.”
*
The guys had their meeting, which went on all afternoon.
“First thing you should do,” said Nick. “is keep that tracker on your phone. If you’re always where you should be, there’s no problem.”
“But what if I need to hide my movements?”
“No problem. I’ll set you up with another phone. It’ll be identical to this one, with all the same contacts, but no tracking device. You won’t need it till our plan is in its final stage, and can use your normal one till then.”
“Got it.”
The plan was in place. But there was nothing that could not be reversed if things improved. School started again in September, and Olivia returned to work. By the end of the month they had not had sex again, but at least Chris knew she’d had no contact with Brian Nash.
*
“We’re invited to Brian’s again for a Halloween party. Last Friday of this month.”
“I don’t want to go.” Chris replied.
Olivia sat next to him.
“I knew you were going to be like this, so let’s be clear. I’m getting a costume, and going. You can suit yourself.”
“I can’t stop you, but I’d like to say something. A few years ago, we were at a New Year’s Eve party and were both flirting. I said I fancied dancing with a woman in a short red dress. Big breasts and braless. You said please not to; you thought she was too much of a slut.”
“I remember.”
“Then you’ll remember this. You didn’t know her, and only presumed her moral status. But I could see it was upsetting you and stayed away. But with Nash, it’s different. I know he’s a womaniser, and has set his sights on you. And I’m asking you to pay me the same respect I paid you. Please do not go to that party. Caroline’s having a bash, we could both go there, and have much more fun.”
“You’re being stupid again. Brian is not a womaniser and even if he was, I have no intention of being seduced by him. My mind’s made up.”
*
For Chris, the week got worse. The only person higher up his company’s pecking order, was Barry Jackson. Director of Purchasing; that relationship was also deteriorating.
“I need you to go to a seminar at the end of the month.”
“I’m a bit high up the scale for that sort of thing. Send one of the managers.”
“No can do. I need someone with status to hold our own seminar in November. I’ll book you an afternoon at a local hotel, to pass on everything you learned.”
“Tim is good at that sort of thing, why not send him?”
“He’s on paternity leave, or I would.”
“Where is it being held?”
“Manchester Arena. Last Thursday and Friday of this month. Stay on in the hotel Friday night. There could be good chance for some networking. Usual format. Put everything on your credit card and we’ll reimburse you.”
Chris didn’t believe him. This was another attempt to belittle him. But he caved in as he could see a way to use this to his advantage. First he needed to speak to Tim. He dropped in on his way home.
+
“So, you agree?”
“Sure. I know this sounds terrible, but I could do to get away from the late night feeds for a few days. Tell me again how it works.”
“You don’t tell Jackson we’ve swapped. I book the hotel for two nights with my credit card, and you take that card with you. We won’t know anyone up there, so call yourself Chris Jaggers. Take my mobile phone too, but don’t use it, or answer it. During the days before the trip, I’ll tell Liv it’s playing up again.”
“I’ll do it. Let me know how it all turns out.”
“Sure. The flights and hotel are already paid for. Here’s two hundred walking around money.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Take it anyway. You might want to buy something outside the hotel. You don’t want to run into problems if you have to match my signature on my card.”
*
It was the last week of October.
“So, you’re leaving Wednesday night?” asked Olivia.
“Afternoon actually, I’ll go to the airport straight from work. You’ll know I’m on the plane when my mobile gets turned off.”
“Right.”
“I’ll get back around lunchtime on Saturday.”
“And now I suppose you want to talk to me one last time? About the party?”
“Yes.”
“OK. I’m listening.”
“Imagine it’s five years in the future, and you’re looking back at, say, next Sunday.”
“I’m with you.”
“I’m going to describe three scenarios:
First, you did not go to Brian Nash’s party; you went to Caroline’s. I’m delighted, trust and respect are restored, and you barely remember this conversation.
Second, you went to Nash’s, despite how unhappy it made me. You danced, kissed, and flirted. A happy memory for you, but a bad one for me. Looking back, you realise I have never trusted you since, and our marriage is a sham.”
“Oh dear.” she said.
“Worst possibility, you went, he seduced you, and you had sex with him. And I found out. Subsequently, you have been forbidden to say it meant nothing, not even being drugged would be an excuse. You may not say you still love me. The situation is, we’ve been divorced and haven’t seen each other for a long time. It is one hundred percent your fault, and you have to live with that. Liv, please do not go to that party, for the reasons I’ve explained. Especially as I am unable to come with you.”
“Chris. I still think you’re over-reacting and paranoid. But after nearly seven years of marriage, I can see you are serious about this. I promise I will not go to Brian’s Halloween party. In fact I won’t go to Caroline’s either. I’ll give it all a miss this year, watch tv, and wait for you to come back from Manchester.”
For a moment there Chris was tempted to believe her. But saying she would not go to Caroline’s was the give-away. What if he called her while she was supposed to be there? She was playing the martyr. Sitting at home, or pretending to, was her penance. He reached into his pocket and turned off his phone.
“Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
‘No you don’t.’ he thought. ‘No idea at all.’
Less than an hour later, Chris was ‘just popping round the pub’ and listened in on her first call.
“I told him I’m not coming.”
“But you are of course, aren’t you?”
“If I’m sure he’s in Manchester, yes.”
“And you’ll stay the night?”
“If you’re good.”
“Oh I will be!”
Wednesday night Chris and Olivia made love for the first time in weeks. One of them was thinking this might be their last time. Thursday lunchtime, Chris drove Tim to the airport and handed over his phone and credit card. He’d packed for two nights and took his own bag round to Nick’s, who had some interesting news.
“Nash nailed his first woman three nights ago. Well his first since I could monitor the guestroom. His wife was asleep through it all, probably knocked out. Just as well he soundproofed that room though, she was very vocal.”
“You get sound too?”
“Of course. His best line was ‘I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you!’ I bet he says that to all of them.”
“Do we know her?”
“I don’t. But, from their conversation, I’d guess she’s got a child at Olivia’s school.”
Later that evening they both listened in on Olivia’s next two calls.
“Bridgewater Hotel, how may I help you?”
“Hello. Can you please tell me if Chris Jaggers has checked in yet?”
“He has, an hour ago. Can I put you through to his room?”
“No need thanks.”
And:
“My GPS says he’s in Manchester, and his hotel confirms he’s arrived. We’re on!”
“Can’t wait. What are you wearing again? I’d hate to squeeze the wrong arse!”
“I’ll be a sort of goth witch. Short black dress and sexy stockings on display. But you must keep your hands to yourself, even if most people don’t recognise me. We need to be extremely discreet. Till bedtime anyway!”
“OK.”
“His phone has been playing up again this week, so he may not be able to call me again. I’ll check his location on Friday, before I leave. Maybe I’ll call the hotel again too. Make sure he’s still there.”
“Why don’t I come round your house tonight?”
Chris’s heart sank.
“No! We have to make it impossible to be found out.”
Friday evening, Chris called her from his new phone.
“Hi babe!”
“Hi. What number are you calling from?”
“I borrowed some guy’s phone, mine is still acting up. This might be my only chance to speak to you.”
“Oh, well it’s great to hear from you sweetheart. What are you doing?”
“We’re just about to go in to dinner. I’d prefer your cooking though.”
“Why did you call the landline? Checking I’m still at home?”
“Don’t be like that. I can’t access my contacts list on the mobile. But I remember the landline number off by heart.”
“Sorry, sorry. Still a bit sensitive about this.”
Her taxi sounded its horn. Olivia went to the window and waved.
“What was that?”
“Just a neighbour’s car. Look, I won’t keep you. Go and enjoy your lovely hotel dinner!”
In the cab, she called the hotel once more. Sorry, Mr Jagger was not in his room. The seminar attendees had just gone through to dinner. She sat back and smiled. As an afterthought, she slipped a hand under her witch dress and removed the nipple covers. The scratchy material of the costume rubbed against her. That felt much better! As they drove into the high street, there was a removal lorry coming the other way.
+
There was a mummy, a sexy female pirate, a wizard, and, bizarrely, an elf, making up part of the group. They were loud and more than a little merry. The witch was wishing she hadn’t worn such a short dress. When she danced it showed her French knickers. That in itself was not a problem; plenty of sexy undies were on display. But she had soaked her panties and it was showing. They clung to her crotch obscenely, highlighting everything under there. She would look more demure if she took them off.
The becloaked vampire was not drinking as much. He approached an impressive looking Bride of Frankenstein. She sported the classic swept back hair. It was black and curly of course, with the dramatic white streaks. But this woman also had Elsa Lanchester’s fake scars round her ears. She had spent a long time, getting the details right. Dracula leaned forward and chastely kissed her on one cheek. He passed her a red wine. She thanked him and introduced him to a couple of ladies nearby.
An impressive axeman passed the group. A black leather hood came to his shoulders. Small apertures for eyes nose and mouth. A black waistcoat that reached his hips. No shirt, just an incredibly hairy chest. And leather trousers that revealed a pair of revolting dirty boots. He removed both the lady’s glasses, and put another in their place.
+
The removal company were very professional, packing as per Chris’s instructions. Every personal item, clothes, and treasures, was boxed up and stowed at the front of the lorry. Everything that belonged to Olivia was placed at the back for quick access. He took a long look before he left. Not his house any more; someone else’s.
+
Around one a.m. the Bride of Frankenstein was asleep in the master bedroom. Her face still bore a few traces of the theatrical make-up. The last of the stragglers were noisily getting into taxis, and chauffeur-driven limos. The caterers were piling into a large van. Dracula did the rounds locking everything up tight.
There were two glasses of red on the kitchen counter. As the vampire checked the upstairs, a figure carrying a fake axe passed a hand over the wine.
Dracula’s last check was his own bedroom, where he opened the door quietly.
“Patricia? Love?”
No reply. He returned to his goth witch in the lounge.
“She’s out like a light. Perhaps I should say dead to the world, as it’s Halloween. We’ll finish our wine and go to the guestroom.”
+
The first thing he said was: “Leave the panties on.” Olivia stripped off everything else. He put his head between her legs and breathed her in.
“God, you’re absolutely soaking! This is heaven!”
Despite feeling incredibly sexy, she wished he wouldn’t mention her wet state. Surely he didn’t need to talk about it? She was relieved when he took her knickers off.
“Open your legs wide. Your cunt is like red wine. It needs a little air before I drink.”
She opened her legs and felt a slight breeze through her pubes. She would have preferred him not to use the word cunt. But she was here to experience something different.
He dived in and began licking and sucking her. She had to admit he was good. He nibbled on her clitoris, then raised his head.
“I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you!”
Olivia was irritated. He’d used that line before, it wasn’t necessary now she was here. Brian held her ankles up and put the head of his penis up against her vaginal opening. He paused and picked up her wet knickers.
“If I throw these at the wall, I bet they stick!”
“Please stop being so crude.”
He threw them at the wall, and they dropped to the floor.
“Nearly!”
He rammed into her unceremoniously.
“God your cunt is hot! I hope you haven’t got some sort of infection up there!”
“Really!”
“Only joking.”
After a few more thrusts, he spoke again.
“Christ, I’ve never been in a cunt so wet. I can hardly feel the sides!”
“Enough with the jokes!” she shouted. “Perhaps your penis isn’t big enough!”
“Bigger than little Chris’s!”
Actually it wasn’t. His technique wasn’t any better either. Olivia was starting to regret this. He pulled out.
“Suck it now.”
She had no problem at all sucking a penis that had been inside her. She liked the taste and it made her feel naughty. Perhaps if she could suck it dry, he’d fit better and stop talking. She took him in her mouth, and went to work. Definitely smaller than Chris.
“That’ll do. Doggy style now.”
‘Good.’ she thought. ‘Maybe he can get it in deeper.’
She got on her hands and knees and pushed her hips up.
He knelt behind her and pulled her vulva open.
“Ouch! Not so rough.”
“I thought you bitches liked it rough, when you got a bit on the side. Chris is nice and gentle is he?”
“Do NOT call me a bitch!” she shouted, and tried to turn around.
Brian pushed her head into the pillow and held her.
“Of course you’re a bitch. You wait till your pathetic old man is two hundred miles away. Then dress like a tart, and turn up braless. What would you call yourself?”
Olivia couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe.
Brian rammed into her a few more times, then removed his hand from her neck. Before she could react, he dug his thumbs into her buttocks, and yanked them apart. Then plunged his dick up her arse.
“Ow! We said no anal!”
“You said no anal. But you don’t make the rules in my house. You know your cunt got soaking wet, to give my dick plenty of lube for your shithole!”
“Please stop!”
But he just pushed into her harder.
As he pounded away, he began to lose some feeling. He let go of Olivia but she stayed where she was. Eventually he stopped, feeling very tired. He withdrew his dick with a soft plop and lay beside her. He was suddenly afraid she might have stopped breathing. But she was asleep. He felt embarrassed. This was the first bitch who’d fallen asleep on him. He’d throw her out in the morning. He drifted off to sleep himself, trying to remember if he’d cum or not.
+
Patricia Nash woke with a jump. There was a hand over her mouth.
“Ssh! I know you’re scared Patricia, but I promise there’s no need to be. Stay calm, I’m not going to hurt you. Here, drink this, it’s only water.”
She sat up and drank it.
“I’m taking my hand away now. Please don’t scream.”
Her heartbeat slowed and she listened while the man in leather told her what was happening. It was confusing at first, but slowly the picture emerged.
“You need to see something in your bathroom. I’ll turn my back while you out this on.”
“Very well. But please take that scary hood off.”
He handed her a robe. The reality hit her when she saw the hidden roofies and E’s.
“So what happened tonight?”
He was trying to drug you again, but I intercepted him. You only got my mild sedative.”
“What time is it?”
“About five.”
“Where are they?”
“In the guestroom.”
“I recognise you now. you did the security work on our extension. Did you do something to them?”
“Yes, I slipped them enough to knock them both out, but they’ll have had enough time to ‘cement’ their relationship, so to speak.”
“I’ve got it!” said Patricia. “You’re her husband aren’t you? That’s what this is all about.”
“Near enough.”
They went to the guestroom where the sleeping couple were spooning on the bed. They didn’t stir.
“What do you want to do?” asked Nick.
“Smack him across the back of his head with his favourite billiards cue for a start!”
“That’s not wise. I can lock them in. while you think about it. But please don’t wreak too terrible a revenge on her. She’s been taken care of.”
They gathered up the fancy dress costumes and left. Nick showed Patricia how to lock and unlock the door from outside. Something he’d never bothered to show Brian.
“The only way out is through the window.” she said. “I might just have a camera ready. when he jumps out naked. There are rose bushes under there!”
+
Nick went home. He never got the details of Patricia’s revenge. The newspapers suggested Brian Nash ended up with no house or car. There were some nice photos of the scratches on his face, apparently from an accident with some roses. But scratches round his buttocks were never published. Neither was there a satisfactory explanation for his two black eyes. It was rumoured ‘the other woman’ had inflicted them with a billiards cue.
+
After her husband eventually jumped, Patricia kept the house locked, but let Olivia out of the guestroom. She had burned the outfits but, in a moment of sisterhood, returned three items: shoes, handbag, and witch’s hat. Once the press and law arrived, along with a crowd of onlookers, she threw her out. Within minutes, the internet was full of photos of Olivia. Many were uncensored, before she tried to hide her charms with the hat.
The hat had originally had ‘WITCH’ emblazoned across the front in silver stars. The press had various theories about it in their reports. It now said ‘ITCH’, which led to speculation about the missing letter. Olivia was wrapped in a blanket and escorted to a police car. When Chris saw the photos he had to admit she looked great, if bedraggled.
+
Olivia did not arrive home until Saturday evening. The police had tried to contact Chris several times, without success. She told them about his dodgy mobile phone, but could not say why he was not answering the landline. They gave her a lift and politely reminded her to return the sweatsuit they had lent her. She fumbled for her keys and tried to open the door. They weren’t working. She had no more success round the back, so knocked.
“Who are you?”
“Mr and Mrs Patterson. Who are you?”
“I’m Olivia Jaggers. This is my house.”
“Oh, we’ve been expecting you, come in. Would you like coffee? Sit here, and we will explain everything.”
Olivia sat at the breakfast bar, bemused. The house was sparkling clean but strangely empty; no pictures or mementos anywhere. And these people were acting as if it was theirs. She took her mobile out of her bag.
“May I charge this please? It’s dead.”
“No problem.”
Mrs Patterson plugged it into a convenient extension lead and set it on a little phone stand by Olivia’s coffee. She also slid an envelope next to it.
“This is for you.”
Olivia would never know it, but her phone was going to take longer than usual to charge. The microphone and camera were on. She looked at the envelope. It had ‘Mrs Jaggers’ printed across the front.
Chris had the unexpected privilege of being able to watch his wife read his letter. The quality was excellent, even from the beach. Olivia opened it. It contained a letter, a business card, and a key.
“Olivia.
There is money in your account and your credit cards are active. Jointly held savings are gone. The house is rented to the Patterson’s, and contains nothing of yours.
I have video evidence of Nash proving how he has ‘never wanted a woman as much as he wants you’. If you haven’t already worked it out, he wanted many others just as much. Better have a health check.
The key belongs to U-Store in Commercial Road. All your things are there. Check the number on the key, and return it to U-Store. I have pre-paid for 30 days.
I propose a divorce based on two years separation. You may shorten this by claiming irreconcilable differences. The business card is my solicitor’s. All contact must be through him.
Chris.
PS. You may recall the three scenarios I suggested. I was wrong, there was a fourth:
You promise me you will not go to Nash’s party. Then try to track my whereabouts so you can blatantly break that promise. That was unforgiveable.”
Olivia’s eyed filled with tears. They trickled down her cheeks in silence. Chris watched them and smiled.
*
“This is a preliminary hearing concerning Mrs Jaggers’ file for divorce. I am her solicitor, Mr Williamson. Present are Mr Jaggers and his solicitor Mrs Vickers.”
Olivia looked across at Chris, who stared straight ahead. It was the first time she’d seen him in two months.
“First, may we ask if Mr Jaggers has any objections to a quicker divorce based on irreconcilable differences?”
“None at all.” replied Mrs Vickers.
“Then we propose Mrs Jaggers should be awarded half the value of the marital home, and one third of Mr Jagger’s salary, as compensation for her loss of earnings.”
“Mrs Jaggers’ loss of earnings is a direct result of her own actions. Mr Jagger had no part in her affair with Mr Nash. Neither did he instigate her sacking. She was fired because her public conduct was in contravention of her contract. Secondary school students have little respect for teachers who appear naked in the newspapers. So, for what reason should my client be penalised for her behaviour?”
There was a whispered conversation between Williamson and Olivia. They had been expecting this.
“Very well. Half the house and half the savings.”
Chris smiled at Mrs Vickers and sat back with his arms folded. The gesture said ‘The floor is yours’.
“Unfortunately, the house does not belong to Mr Jaggers.”
Olivia jumped to her feet.
“That’s ridiculous! The Pattersons are renting from him!”
“Please sit down Mrs Jaggers. Then I will explain.”
It was half a minute before she did.
“If I may continue. It is true the Pattersons were renting. In fact, there is now another family in residence. But they are not tenants of Mr Jaggers. The house you are referring to, is owned by Mr Nicholas Cooper.”
“What?”
“Mr Jaggers, who was the only person named on the property deeds, sold the house to Mr Cooper.”
“We’ll sue, to retrieve the money.”
“The proceeds are held in the Cayman Islands. As are the savings.”
“This is mere trickery. The courts will be on our side. You know perfectly well, it is illegal for a spouse to sell or hide assets in a divorce case.”
“That’s true. But… ”
She looked at Chris, who procured his phone and spoke.
“This can be verified as being recorded on Monday twentyseventh of October, last year.” he announced, and played back a recording.
‘I’m going to describe three scenarios:
First, you did not go to Brian Nash’s party; you went to Caroline’s… ‘
“I’ll fast forward if I may, Olivia will remember it.”
‘… you went, he seduced you, and you had sex with him. And I found out. Subsequently, you have been forbidden to say it meant nothing, not even being drugged would be an excuse. You may not say you still love me. The situation is, we’ve been divorced and haven’t seen each other for a long time. It is one hundred percent your fault, and you have to live with that. Liv, please do not go to that party, for the reasons I’ve explained. Especially as I am unable to come with you.’
“And here is her response.”
‘I can see you are serious about this. I promise I will not go to Brian’s Halloween party.’
Chris turned to Mrs Vickers, who pushed a document to the centre of the table.
This is the contract for the sale of Mr Jaggers’ house to Mr Cooper. It is dated twentyseventh of June. A full four months prior to Mrs Jaggers’ rather public adultery. Therefore the sale has no bearing on this divorce.”
“June?” exploded Olivia.
“Soon after you went swimming.” replied Chris.
“I’ll recap. Mr. Jaggers sells his house and transfers his savings.”
“Our savings!”
“In late October, he hands in his notice where he works. And a significant time after that, he produces evidence for this divorce case. At that time he has no house, no savings, and no salary.”
More whispering.
“We’ll be in touch.”
Olivia grabbed him outside in the street.
“Chris, please talk to me.”
“You may ask one question.”
“Er, do you live in the Cayman Islands?”
“Croatia. They have the most beautiful girls in the world. But no extradition agreement since Brexit. My question.”
“Yes?”
“How’s your arse?”