Grim Reality

I reminded her of several previous conversations of ours when I'd told her that I got a bit discouraged about having to pester her all the time and how disheartening the knock-backs were. She apologised. I had just finished reminding her that she should bring up any concerns about our relationship with me straight away when the lads discovered she was awake screamed in and started jumping all over us. Ah kids. The world's most effective contraceptives.

The rest of the weekend was all hugs, cuddles, kisses and yes sex. We had a great family weekend of playing, cycling and feeding the ducks at the local park.

It was Sunday before I could check the wood shed. Her phone was on a rafter, under a box at the back. I had already received the two forwarded messages via my phone but hadn't read them, hoping to preserve the magic of this weekend. On Monday morning at work I was bloody glad I had.

Saturday 10AM. 'I am so sorry Trace but you are so beautiful and with your body so close to mine I just couldn't help it. You are all woman and I want you so badly. Please forgive me. Mark.'

Fuck, this guy is married?

Saturday 6PM. 'I take it from your lack of response that you don't want to see me again. That would break my heart. Once again sorry. Mark.'

Later that morning the response came through.

Monday 10AM. 'Mark, sorry for the delay. I usually keep this phone safe at work and only check it occasionally. I only got your Saturday messages just now. Yes I was angry with you Friday night, you know my situation and my rules. I forgive you this time but never again. You're such a good dancer that I'd love to see you again, I'm starting to need our time together. I'll let you know when I can get out again. Don't pester me. I hope with messages like your last one you are taking precautions to avoid your wife seeing them. Love. Trace.'

Three minutes later. 'Work phone, password protected. Glad to hear we are still friends. Mark.'

Battling to hold back my fury I couldn't believe the two Traceys I had seen in twelve hours. Loving wife and mother followed by slut who had returned an entirely inappropriate text from another man with "love". I was going to struggle to hold myself together soon. I concluded that I should slow down reading erotic stories and spend the time reading up on split personalities. It was about the only thing that made sense.

That night I started the charm offensive and surprised myself by finding a few new ways to spoil her. I was staggered that on Thursday she'd bought me a nice box of my favourite chocolates. I even got to have a couple before two ravening boys found them and demolished the rest. Every night was a snuggle on the couch talking about our works and family things.

It was almost a vent for my frustration when I decided on another visit to her office. I pulled it off exactly the same as the last time. I shouldn't really have been surprised when I saw that the bottom drawer now sported a permanent debit card from the bank, a three pack of panties, a box of panty liners and a six pack of douches. No condoms though. I noticed there were only now six cards in her little pile, four missing. I still couldn't see the significance of them though.

I went straight back home after this trip, no mention was made that I hadn't had enough time to get to work and back and spend more than ten minutes there. I just didn't care though.

The following Tuesday was my first warning of a girl's night on Friday. I was a bit stunned so no acting was involved when I looked at Tracey coldly and said, "Aren't you forgetting something?" I maintained a cold stare, seeing her mind racing. It took a good minute, while I enjoyed several of her facial expressions, before the penny dropped.

"God, I forgot our date night didn't I?"

I stood up and walked away, throwing over my shoulder, "Just don't worry about it".

She didn't follow me to bed and I don't know when she came up but I'm sure I heard the sounds of quiet sobbing drifting up the stairs. That was strange. Why sobs? The only thing I could think of was regretting what she was doing to me and our relationship. Why the fuck not stop then? Discount the impossible Dave. Why not stop something that was hurting? Blackmail? No, impossible. That only left one possibility. Compulsion. Something within herself was compelling her to do this.

The next night she was very apologetic and announced that she had organised a night out for us on Saturday. She apologised again when I reminded her that we had a work function on Saturday. She then made all the phone calls necessary to change the sitter to Friday and cancel out on the girl's night. That date night of dinner and dancing was a little stiff but enjoyable. The strain was really starting to get to me. This shit had been going on for thirteen weeks now.

A month and two more girl's nights later things gave the impression of being normal. Apart from one text from Mark asking if she could get away, with her blowing him off, the phone was silent. Why would she meet him some nights not others. I re-read her list and the 1 in 5 comment and suddenly realised what the dice was for. She thought by leaving the decision on whether or not to meet him up to the dice there couldn't be a pattern. She was certainly sticking to the script. I wondered if she had found a tracker or phone bug yet. What about the 4-5 sex sessions with me a month? The idea of the dice just made the whole situation more bizarre and somehow impersonal. A strange word to use but apt. Every good manager knows that you start off with a plan but change it if conditions differ from those expected. I know I had been seen to behave erratically since this had all started, yet she was sticking fairly rigidly to her plan. Whatever that is.

The following Tuesday the texts started again.

Tuesday 1.45PM. 'Hey remember me, how about same place 8.30ish Saturday? Trace.'

Tuesday 3.05PM. 'I'll be there, really looking forward to it. Mark.'

Time to ring Guy again! My crystal ball was telling me that the girl's night was on Saturday this week.

I rang Guy and asked for his availability on Saturday. He said he was free but then asked me for a favour. His wife had given him a hard time when he had 'worked' for me last time and came home smelling of beer. He wanted to know if he passed the phone to her whether I could speak to her. I told him I could do better than that and told him I'd be there in fifteen minutes. When I explained the deal to Gloria she could tell from my passion that it was all legit. An hour later I felt I had made a new friend. Neither Guy or Gloria could add any guesses on 'why' though.

I took the following afternoon off to see a Behavioural Psychologist. I'd had to book the two hour session three weeks before. I explained Tracey's behaviour over the last few months. What a waste of time. Apart from confirming it wasn't any kind of multiple personality thing, she could add no insight. I paid in untraceable cash.

I briefed Guy on the proposed meeting at the Star Bar at 8.30 on Saturday. I didn't want to alert Tracey by quizzing her on the restaurant this time. Kissed her goodnight and waited by the phone. Just for the exercise I used the GPS locator which showed the phone was still in her office. No trip necessary to the wood shed this week. Yes I got her, now familiar, call on the land line when she left the restaurant to make sure I was at home. God, hadn't this woman heard of private detectives.

Only one text from Guy this night. 'Dave, all girls in club, T dancing with the guy from last time again. Guy.'

Just after 10.45 he rang me.

"They've just left."

"Who, Tracey and her guy or all of them?"

"The girls, he stayed here."

I asked him what had happened. He said it was complicated and too long to explain over the phone. He would catch up on Monday. Bugger that. I asked him if I could catch up tomorrow, I couldn't wait. He agreed.

At 10 o'clock the next day, I invented a reason to go to work for a couple of hours and drove to Guy's place. Over coffee with him and Gloria I got the full story.

It had started like normal with Tracey dancing with lots of guys and every third or so dance with the presumed Mark character. Similar to last time when they danced they shuffled to the back and he had his hands in inappropriate places. She spent a lot of time glancing around and when not, just talked to him. Guy said it was all so subtle that he even thought her friends dancing or sitting at the table wouldn't have had a clue what was going on.

A half hour before they all left, just after dancing together Mark had led Tracey out a side door into the courtyard set aside for smokers. Guy had followed them out as quickly as he could and was there less than a minute after them. The courtyard was a small, fenced off area with tables. Mark and Tracey were sitting opposite each other on one of the tables holding hands across the table when Guy came through the door. Tracey quickly detached and Guy went to the opposite end of the small space and lit up.

"Now Dave, I couldn't hear everything they talked about. Tracey has a very soft voice so I mainly heard what shithead said. A lot of what I will tell you next has some guesswork in it." He then told me he'd heard SH say, just after hands were withdrawn, "Is this public?" Guy caught Tracey's nod out of the corner of his eye. He caught enough of the next minute or so to know SH was saying how wonderful and beautiful she was and making his lust quite obvious. SH was just leaning in and gazing into her eyes. She was leaning backwards away from him.

I asked what her eyes and face were saying. Guy said that she kept glancing at the door and at him with a nervous expression. When she wasn't doing that, she had the strange neutral expression that had seemed odd last time.

SH then leaned back a bit and spoke. Guy only caught about one word in three but heard, "not enough" and "next level". Guy thought SH was piling the pressure on. Tracey had a kind of stricken look on her face. She then spoke for about two minutes. It was her time to lean in so he didn't catch a word but she had a determined look on her face and was stabbing her finger into the table top. Guy guessed she was laying down the rules again.

After this they both backed off and went back to smiling. Having finished his smoke, Guy pulled out his phone and pretended to text to have an excuse to stay outside. "Dave I've got to tell you, they are planning to meet up sometime next week". "It was her suggestion and she sounded kind of desperate." "I think she was kinda scared of losing him and was throwing him a bone."

Their tryst had ended when one of the girls came out and said she had promised her husband she would be home early that night.

From this day onwards I saw a change in Tracey. She was obviously distracted and less attentive to the kids and I. I wondered what had happened to her plan to self-check her behaviour. I knew we were entering the danger zone and vowed to be extra alert. Me. Well I kept up the charm offensive. Never late from work, always cuddly and caring.

I will let next week's texts speak for themselves.

Monday 10.22AM. 'Babe, have you decided where and when yet?'

Monday 12.23PM. 'Checking out places after work today. Will let you know. Trace.'

I quizzed the kids that night. Tracey had picked them up from school.

Tuesday 9.37AM. 'How are you fixed for tomorrow at 1PM? Just lunch ok, don't get your hopes up. Make sure you park around the back. I'm yours till 4.45. Love Trace.' She gave the name and address of a place. I googled it and it was a four star restaurant and motel on the other side of the city, near the airport.

I rang Guy and asked if he and Gloria would like lunch on me. He agreed. I asked him if he thought Tracey would recognise him from the club. He thought not as he had worn a cap and kept his head down in the smoking garden. I also asked him if he could sit near them and possibly record their conversation. He told me he would do what he could. I gave him the address and time plus one final instruction.

The next morning I checked her handbag again. Nothing. I wondered if her desk drawer now had condoms in it. It wasn't worth the effort of finding out. She was obviously going to have Mary pick the kids up. I wondered what excuse she would use. I didn't think it would be working late as she knew I sometimes called in to the office or rang her at work. Probably meeting a girlfriend after work. I fully intended being home early to see what she was wearing when she got home and check her lying skills when I asked where she had been.

The phone call from Guy at 1.45PM was expected but his news wasn't. He was at the restaurant and they hadn't shown. I panicked. Were they in a room? I told him what car Tracey had and waited while he checked all the possible parking areas. Nothing.

I rang Tracey's desk phone and was unhappy when Jenny answered it.

"Has Tracey gone home already?"

"No, we've got a lot on today, Larry asked us to stay till three. Tracey has just popped out for lunch."

"Well tell her I just rang to say hi please, bye."

What was happening? I checked my phone. It noted a diverted voice call from Tracey to Mark at 11.02 that morning. I had been underground and had missed it. Tracey had broken protocol with the voice call. I imagined her making an excuse to leave the office for a few minutes to do it.

I could only guess what had been said. Had she rung him and told him she had to work late. They might have made new plans but what were they? I took a punt and guessed they had just delayed 24 hours. I rang and told Guy. He said he wasn't available but, after checking, told me Gloria and a friend could. I swapped phone numbers with Gloria and gave her some instructions. Nothing was certain but what else could I do.

There were no texts between the lovers so I had confidence my guesses had been right. Further confirmation came when Tracey rang my work desk phone at about 11.30AM asking me if I could sneak into town for lunch. Sorry darling, too busy. With assurance I wasn't going to surprise her at work she left for her back stabbing tryst. I watched on the GPS tracker as her phone moved towards the expected suburb. I rang and alerted Gloria.

The next phone call was from Gloria.

"You were right, they've just turned up in separate cars and they're in the restaurant. It's quite comical, she parked next door out of sight behind a hardware store."

I asked her where he had parked and she said right in the motel car park. I asked her for his number plate. She read it out then said the car had Thunderstruck Construction on the side. Gotcha! I urged Gloria to go into the restaurant so she didn't miss anything. She told me her friend was already in there.

While waiting I looked up Thunderstruck Construction. I rang their reception and using my limited acting skills said I had met one of their employees and hadn't quite caught his name. It was either Mick or Mark. She said they had two Micks and one Mark. She asked me to describe him and I repeated the description Guy had given me.

"That sounds like Mark Ashcroft, our Business Development Manager, would you like his cell number?"

I said yes and she read out the now familiar number. Five minutes and a phone book later I had an address for M and P Ashcroft. Eat your heart out Sherlock.

Gloria rang at 4.00PM. "They've just left in separate cars."

I arranged to meet her at a coffee shop half way between the city and the mine and left.

I started off by asking what Tracey was wearing and she said it looked like a work uniform. I then asked if she had heard her use a pet name for him starting with L. Gloria said they had been at the table right next to them and had heard most of what was said and she'd only called him Mark. I then turned the floor over to Gloria.

She described them as sitting opposite each other on a small, intimate table. "Dave, I thought you said she was intelligent?"

I just raised an eyebrow.

"This guy is just a bastard, a smooth bastard but still a bastard." "It's so obvious that he's playing her and she's just falling for it all."

Gloria then went on to tell me a summary of their conversations. He spent the first part telling her how beautiful she was and how much he wanted her. He was holding her hand across the table and she made no move to disentangle. I guess she didn't consider this 'in public'. Tracey did spend a lot of time glancing around the restaurant and out the windows. Several times she did drag the conversation around to me and her family or his family but he shut her down and changed topics.

She did slip in the fact that she loved me dearly and I was her soul mate so no one could ever find out about them. She apologised for all the precautions she felt she had to take but hoped he understood. She then went through the precautions he should be taking. He never spoke about his wife. He did ask the obvious question though. If she loved me so much, why him. Gloria said that Tracey never answered but got a real blank look on her face then changed the subject. The middle conversations were about favourite movies, books and interests. Shithead never missed an opportunity to tell Tracey how much they had in common.

The last hour was shithead gently ratcheting up the pressure interspersed with comments on how hot he thought she was. While holding her hand he was pushing her to take their friendship to the next level. Tracey kept trying to withdraw her hands and change the topic of conversation but he was insistent. He kept pushing her on how they could get together for more than one sly dance in three at a club or more than lunch. He asked her if she ever travelled for work, no. Did I ever travel, very rarely? Could she ditch the girls on girl's night and go somewhere with him to 'dance' alone? She explained that she couldn't risk one of the girls letting something slip. Could she pretend she was going on a girl's night and just go out with him? No, same reason.

He was getting visibly frustrated by this stage so he threw it back on her. How did she suggest they got together? Tracey explained that really the only option was her pretending to work past lunch one day which gave them 1PM to 4.45PM, almost four hours. He made a comment that I must be a real suspicious character for her to be taking so many precautions. Tracey looked blank then said, "No, Dave loves me and trusts me." Well one out of two isn't bad.

Shithead then obviously decided it was ultimatum time.

"Maybe we can get a room next time, you know, fool around a bit?"

Tracey ummmed and errred for a while, insisted she just wanted the lunches but critically, didn't shut him down.

He said he wasn't sure if he could continue with a relationship that wasn't going anywhere. Apparently Tracey looked worried. Mark was obviously an impatient character, three dance nights and one lunch wasn't much. Looking at it from his point of view though, it had taken four months and all he'd got was two hand holding sessions and some arse groping.

According to Gloria the session ended well before 4.00PM with him saying he had to leave after his final application of pressure. He tried to pay the bill but when she found out he was going to use his personal credit card she insisted they used her debit card. She explained that it was an account I didn't know about. The cheeky bastard actually told her he admired her thoroughness. He walked her to her car and they were invisible behind the hardware store for about five minutes. They couldn't infer anything from his expression when he came back and got in his car.

Thorough she may be, but observant she obviously was not. Apparently the two ladies that had lunch together at the next table but didn't actually talk that much, didn't seem suspicious.