TGI Chronicles Pt. 1 Ch. 04

"I understand." she said meekly. But I wasn't convinced that she had really taken onboard how determined I was about all of this.

I took another sip of wine, I found that doing that calmed me down. It brought me back to being in control of myself, otherwise I think I might have gone on with the sentiment of the moment to say too much.

Now I could continue, "That leads me to my third condition. I now realise just how you misled me and others to let us believe the story you want us to believe. I accept that, in your terms, you've never lied to me. But you've never told me the truth either if it didn't suit you."

She looked at me questioningly. I guess she didn't like the theme of what I was saying, but it was about her and in held her interest.

I went on, "I guess when I wanted to know what had happened last Thursday afternoon, with clever words you led me well away from the truth. I don't want you to explain yourself now, although I might in the future. What I want you to think about is that I want a written, yes written, pledge from you that there will be no secrets between us. If I ask a question, your job is not to work out how you can satisfy me with some answer that presents the version you want me to believe, but you will do your very best to make sure I get all the relevant facts and thoughts that surround the subject of my question. Now do you understand that?"

"I understand, but I think it's a mistake." she answered.

"Why?"

"Well our marriage is not a formal negotiation. It shouldn't have to be in writing. That's wrong." she pleaded.

I took another sip of wine. "No, Beth. It is precisely what it is about. Don't you see, I don't trust you anymore. Not only don't I trust you not to cheat on me, but I can't even trust that you tell me the truth when I ask. I need to know that you will always tell me the truth. And so that I can be convinced, I want to see your words in writing. Then there can be no careful changes of tense, no clever 'mays' instead of 'wills', no sneaked in 'possibles' or probablys'. I won't hear what I want to hear, I will see what you mean to say. And if it's good enough, then we can go on"

She was sipping her wine as I finished this, possibly to cover up her feelings when she realised that I had seen through some of her games, or at least that's what I liked to think. But she put her glass down and looked at me, "Surely you're not going to make me write everything down? We can't live like that."

"Well I don't intend to. But it's not a bad idea. I might well ask you to write down some of your answers if I think a question is critical enough."

"Oh."

We both sipped our wine. I finished mine.

"So there we are. Beth. Three jobs for you. And I mean it. I will not meet you again, I will not try to put this marriage back together unless you do all three. And even then there are no promises. And you know that you've got to show real progress by July 14th or it'll all be over. Just like three month's ago, the future of our marriage is in your hands." I just couldn't resist rubbing a little salt into the wound.

She sat quietly. She finished her wine. I asked her if she wanted another. She looked at me questioningly, wondering if there was any point or was our meeting over. I said I was having one, which seemed to please her, and she said she would too. I went off to the bar. When I got back, she had composed herself. She was sitting up, looking more alert.

I sat down and we both took sips of our drinks, looking at each other. Just looking at her began to get to me. I had damn good taste ten years ago when I spotted her as a fresher at university. I was feeling brighter, almost happy. I had got to the end of my agenda without mishap.

She was the one that broke the silence "I've been thinking about what you've said, and I think I want to understand some things. But before I talk about that, I want you to understand something. I want you to know that the affair between my self and Ken had nothing to do...."

"No, Beth. I'm not going to talk about you and Ken tonight. As I've already said, I will not start reconciling, or trying to understand what made you do it, or what you did or anything else until you've done as I ask."

"You've had your say this evening. Now it's my turn. I need to tell you...."

"Well hard luck. I told you NOT NOW. Please don't make me walk out." I think the threat of me making a scene was enough to stop her in her tracks. I calmly sipped my wine, waiting to see what she would do now, conscious that I was desperate to know about her and Ken, in every minute detail. But that had to wait.

She glared at me, but, eventually, she too sipped her wine.

She obviously decided on another tack, "You said that you might want me to explain what happened last Thursday. Don't you think it better, more positive if we move forward. Nothings gained by going over old mistakes. I want a new future with you, Tim. I know I've failed in the past. But what's the point of dragging all that up. Let's work to building a new future."

We've all heard the politicos and government officials who squirm out of their cock-ups by 'looking to the future' 'no purpose in pointing the finger for mistakes made in the past' 'time to move on' 'let's look to the new horizon' Crap. Not in my bloody marriage. Or not anymore anyway.

"No, Beth. That's precisely what reconciliation is about. To help us face up to the mistakes in the past. Face the unpleasant truths. And then build a new future. There will be no cover ups. No glossing over things."

She looked down. I don't think she liked that very much.

I went on "You have to be prepared to answer fully and truthfully any question I may ask. If I want to know the colour of Ken's underpants on a Wednesday in April, you will do your very best to tell me. If I want to know whether his third pubic hair from the right has gone grey or not, you will tell me."

I looked at her, I think she was liking this bit even less, so I relented a little "I don't think I really want to know the details of what you got up to, not the anatomical details anyway. Unless he's a genetic mutation I guess it was pretty much standard variations on a pretty standard theme - which I think I know. But don't kid yourself, I will ask painful questions, and you will be expected to answer them - in full."

She obviously wasn't very happy. I guess it hadn't been a good evening for her. She came along, hopeful that this was the start of putting Ken behind us, and she had seen a very determined Tim who would only do that on his own terms. It wasn't going to be an easy journey for her.

I took a sip of wine, and then tried cheering her up, "I don't know whether it will help or not, but I've found that a wife of a guy at work was a marriage guidance counsellor. She's ever so nice, but I think she's a bit of a maverick and she doesn't do it professionally anymore. She wouldn't be one of those totally neutral people. If one of us was wrong about something, I think she would tell us. You should meet her. Anyway it is just an idea."

"Oh, Tim. This isn't how it was meant to be. I know I was wrong. I know I've hurt you terribly. But, putting conditions on actually talking to me; hurting my parents and shaming me in their eyes; declaring that you don't think we stand a chance of getting over this; bringing in counsellors; insisting that we talk about things that we both know are going to be dreadfully painful; we don't stand a chance, do we? You seem determined to divorce me."

"No, that's not true. I loved you with all my heart. I'd like to find a way of going on loving you. But my mind tells me that it is fairly unlikely. That's all. I'm trying to be honest, Beth. I'm trying to find a route out of the mess you created. Look, you want to get back together, don't you?"

"Yes. More than anything I've ever wanted in my life."

"Do you think we could get over this?"

"I know I could. I thought you loved me enough that you could."

"Well then, there you are. Your heart wants to get over it. Your head says that we can get over it. My heart wants to get over it. It's only my mind that really has doubts. So that's three against one. That's not bad odds, is it?" I was rather pleased with myself for this one. Maybe I could spin the spinner.

"Yes. I think I've got a lot of thinking to do."

We drank our glasses dry and stood up in unison. We both knew the evening was over. In the car park I walked her to her car, she unlocked it and then turned to face me. She looked so nervous. My heart melted, and then that little voice said 'don't blow it at this final hurdle, Tim'. I leant in and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. The sort of kiss that family give each other. Not a lover's kiss. I quickly turned and went to my car.

---

After meeting Beth that Wednesday night, trying to sleep was different. I went to bed excited. I had taken my future into my own hands. I had laid down my terms. I was pleased with myself. But I couldn't sleep because I kept trying to guess what she was going to do.

Thursday morning I dug out some gym kit and put it into a bag and stowed it in the back of the car. It was good timing. Dave told me that he had made an appointment for me on Saturday morning. I asked if he was going to be there. He didn't think so.

Not a lot happened at work. Stella was a bit sullen with me, but that wasn't a problem. Charlie asked me to lunch, a sandwich and juice in his office. He was just checking how I was, and with his director's hat on, how I was working. I told him that I'd given Beth some ultimatums, and that I was feeling pretty good in general and I was working well. But I admitted that sleeping was a problem.

I went home and phoned my parents. I told them about Beth. They were full of sympathy, but really had nothing new to say. What could they say? Mum suggested that I should go out to stay with them for a bit of a break. I didn't fancy that, but I made vague promises about seeing them soon.

Thursday night was back to the old routine. Ken and Beth in full congress. But, maybe, slightly less hurtfully than before.

Friday was a bit like Thursday. Not a lot happening. The only thing that happened at work was that Perry called me into his office to tell me that ITP were getting really awkward, and that he thought he might have to reallocate resources. He would think about it over the weekend and see me on Monday. Oh Great! At this worst possible period in my life, I'm going to have to chase around smoothing people's egos after one of Perry's notorious department reorganisations. Just what I didn't need!

Just after I got home on Friday evening, Phil phoned,

"Tim, you don't fancy a drink, do you?"

"Always. Do you mean this evening? Its just that I thought Friday evening was your shopping evening."

"Well it usually is, but Denny's going out with Beth for a drink and a meal. So I thought of you at home. I thought it was about time we caught up."

"Who's idea was that?"

"What? Denny and Beth going out? I think Beth suggested it. Why?"

"No, not that, you and I going out for a drink?"

"Well it was sort of Denny and myself. She didn't want you floating around the town centre if she was there with Beth. No embarrassing scenes, if you know what I mean. So I promised that I'd lure you to the pub, I normally find that quite an easy thing to do."

"Well can I take a rain check on it? I know that's unusual, but I've just got in and this place is a tip. I've sort of promised myself that I should do a week's worth of dirty dishes, loads of laundry and all that sort of thing. A drink would be tempting, but I think I've got to start getting my domestic act together. How about a drink on Sunday morning if you're around?"

"Well, that's possible. But come on, Tim, don't you fancy one tonight?"

"Phil, I promise, I am not going down to the town centre to shadow Beth and Denny, and certainly not to interfere with them in any way. I won't phone them. I won't leave home. You can come round here and keep an eye on me while you wash the kitchen floor, and have a beer from the fridge I you want. How does that sound?"

"I'll see you Sunday morning. What time?"

"I'll call you."

I didn't want a stilted meeting with Phil, not being able to talk about the truth. And I certainly didn't want to interfere with Beth and Denny. I just hoped that Beth was doing what I asked, and telling Denny the truth before it was too late.

To be continued...