Vernon’s Valentines

"Blimey, you know all this and you've been here less than a week?"

"I'm a people person, Vern. I do my work, but I like meeting new people. I talk to them and ... well, they like to tell me about themselves."

"Aah, for a moment there, I thought maybe you were just nosy," he grinned, to deflect any unintended barbs, hoping that she would treat his gentle dig as a joke.

She did laugh, "See, I told HR that you couldn't possibly be the stuffed shirt they said you were!"

"Really?"

"No, I'm joking, they didn't say anything about you at all, only that Vicky would be the one to show me the ropes, because you would be far too busy with your workload. Quite often in temp jobs around the town I find I get nowhere near the actual department boss, only my immediate supervisor." She smiled. "The boss is usually in a separate office, like the meeting room over in the corner."

Vernon grinned. "That was the boss's office, but when I took over the office, I didn't want to be cut off from our small team, so we just have meetings in there, one on ones, staff appraisals, etc."

"So you're a hands-on boss, huh Boss?" She squeezed Vernon's shoulder, released her grip and started to move around the desk.

"Or at least I'm at hand and within reasonable reach," he replied with a smile.

"Well, don't forget the card to your wife, Denise, isn't it? The Day is tomorrow, remember."

"I'm getting it lunchtime," he assured her.

During the afternoon he messaged Denise and thanked her for sending him the two Valentine cards and the invitation.

When Vernon got home he again mentioned the single invitation to the dinner dance to Denise and magneted the ticket to the fridge door. Denise stopped stirring the pot and checked out the ticket.

"Why only one ticket, honey, which clearly states on it 'admit one' only?"

"I was hoping you would answer that, my dear. I told you by text today that I got a Valentine's Day card yesterday and the invite and card today, but you didn't respond. I assumed you are my only romantic admirer and that this single ticket was another little teaser from you."

"Honestly, honey, I did not get you that card yesterday and definitely didn't get you that ticket today. And I mean definitely, in fact I'd be extremely pissed off if you decide to use it this Saturday. You know I am away in London on this course Friday and Saturday nights."

She returned to her pot and stirred it hard enough to take the Teflon coating off.

"So, who's this card-posting hussy, then?" She hissed through gritted teeth.

"I have no idea. I was talking to one of the girls —"

"Girls?"

"One of the temps, she saw the cards and ... well, she was inquisitive."

"More like nosy!"

"Well, she is a woman."

"I thought you said she was a girl!" she snapped.

"Well, compared to ... some of the others in the office, yes, she's just a girl, just a few years older than our girls I think."

After a dinner eaten in a frosty atmosphere, Vernon checked online to see if he could buy another ticket to the Ball, just in case Denise decided to forgo the Londoncourse. The website thanked him for his enquiry but all the tickets had sold out last week.

Well, the evening and bedtime continued quite frosty. All over two anonymous Valentine's Day cards separating a couple that had been married over twenty-one years.

xxx

Wednesday 14 February

Vernon left for work early in the morning but not before he left a Valentine's Day card for his wife on the kitchen counter by the coffee pot that he had ready brewed for her. He took his preferred morning brew of tea with him in a thermal mug.

The Planning Department office was empty of staff when he arrived. However, on his desk he found a tasteful arrangement of flowers alongside another pastel coloured envelope clearly containing a Valentine card, which he opened with shaking hands. The envelope was once again printed with a handwriting font and the card included the addition of a romantic verse, along with the customary three Xs on the back.

So, whoever it was leaving these messages for him had to have come into the office during Tuesday evening. It wasn't Denise, she was home all evening. Perhaps, he thought, it was more than one person, a conspiracy. 'But what was the purpose of leaving three cards in a row?' he wondered.

He laughed to himself. Actually, a conspiracy by all the girls in the office, couldn't be worse than being targeted by a single stalker. I mean, he almost spoke out loud in that quiet office, "I'm an ordinary guy in my mid forties, I hadn't even been much of a pin up when I was in my prime, now I'm a middle-aged man with two kids in college, an intelligent and attractive wife and a settled lifestyle."

The flowers set him thinking, so he ordered a bunch of flowers to collect at lunchtime and take home that night . There were no mayoral functions today, which is another reason why he let Denise have a lie in, but didn't want to risk sending an arrangement to be delivered home, in case she was out shopping, or whatever she got up to during her free days.

When he got home he found his wife had left him a Valentine's card which she had signed, with a note on the fridge saying that she was out at another meeting, this one to do with their home parish Neighbourhood plan, a regular monthly meeting of which Vernon was well aware of, and Denise had left a meal for him that she had prepared during the day to microwave.

He still wondered if the other cards have come from Denise or someone else, because the card she has left him is very similar to the cheap one that he had bought on Monday at the corner shop and rejected as looking too nasty in comparison to the one he received Monday. The one that he had left on Wednesday for Denise to find was much better quality than this.

Exhausted with the work on the Local Plan all week, and lonely with his thoughts, he put the flowers in a vase and went to bed, even before Denise got home, and he was up early again, before she got up.

xxx

Thursday 15 February

'This was definitely getting crazy,' he thought, 'another Valentine card on my desk. This one overprinted with the message that "Valentine's was not not over until the Valentine's Ball on Saturday".'

Tucked into the card was a print out on headed notepaper from the swanky hotel that were hosting the Ball. It was a confirmation booking of a hotel suite for Saturday night. There was no price on it, that had been blanked out, but it bore a rubber stamp that said it was fully paid for in cash.

The card was on top of a parcel, wrapped in gift-wrapping paper, which contained a pack of three silk boxer shorts. He had never worn boxers before, he had always worn jockeys and had never seen a reason to change. But these felt luxurious to the touch, just like the few silk blouses that Denise had worn from time to time. A printed note with the shorts said wear one and bring the other two, one for Sunday morning and a spare just in case.

"Oh hell. What is going on?" He said out loud to the empty office. "This is getting seriously scary!"

All week Teri has been interested in his cards, the comments on them and the presents. Today was no exception. She smirked when she saw the hotel room booking note.

"Definitely the missus, Vern. Looks like she's going to make sure you get lucky this weekend."

Vernon decided not to say anything to her about Denise being away this weekend on a course that was of concern to Councillors and permanent Council staff alike. Even Vernon had been given a basic brief of the concerns over the new data recording regulations coming into force in a couple of months. For the Mayor, responsible for the Council in the public eye, it was important that she had a much more rigorous handle on the new law, and Denise had told him about her involvement in the course well over a month ago.

So he was sure that this Valentine sender, whoever person or persons she was, wasn't Denise, his loving wife.

Everyone else in the office was really busy that day, as Vernon insists that no-one works overtime in the department, work being shared if necessary to ensure that statutory time limits and procedures for planning applications were strictly adhered to, while other planning matters were also carried out in the timescale reasonably expected. This is why temporary staff like Teri were taken on, because of the pressure of getting the local plan out threatened to compromise everyday work.

When he got home, Vernon found another note on the fridge door about a microwave dinner in the refrigerator. It added that Denise had had to go out early again, for an unplanned meeting with housing developers, who were making a presentation of a potential new housing estate, hence leaving the meal for him and not being at home to share it with him.

"Sod this!" He yelled to the ether and decided to have a meal up the pub, plus a few ales, followed by brandy, in fact several brandies. By the time he walked home, Denise was in bed asleep.

He put the coffee on and forced himself to drink two cups and a pint of water before going to bed. It didn't prevent him having a bit of a headache in the morning.

xxx

Friday 16 February

Denise was up and dressed by the time Vernon got up and had his shower. He couldn't hang around too long or take a sick day off work today.

The Chief Executive of the Council had tabled a 9am briefing meeting for all department heads and Vernon had to be at the meeting to give those present an update on the final draft of the Local Plan which had to be put before the Councillors' Executive in three weeks' time.

Following that briefing meeting he had a regular fortnightly meeting with the Chairman of the Planning Committee, Councillor Mrs Cynthia Springett, to run over any new planning applications which particularly needed Councillors' discussion and decisions. Most non-contentious planning applications were delegated to officers to approve in accordance with policies set out by law or the Borough Council. It usually took a couple of hours for him to run through the plans and decide the agenda for a meeting in ten days' time.

Denise was due to meet the Chief Executive late morning and catch the train for London and attend the seminar on Saturday regarding the new rules on holding data about to become law in the next two months. She needed to stay overnight Friday and Saturday, and wanted to do some West End shopping Friday afternoon. So Vernon drove her into the Council offices at 9am.

As they were running a little late, Vernon had to go straight to the small Committee room for the Department Heads briefing meeting, which Denise sat in on as an observer, it saved time at her next meeting. After the meeting was concluded, the Chief Executive, Matt Jones, his deputy Mrs Janice Merton, the Leader of the Council, Councillor Bob Roberts, and the Mayor, Councillor Mrs Denise Harrison, retired to the Chief Executive's office to discuss Monday night's monthly full Borough Council meeting.

By the time he got to his desk Vernon found another Valentine card waiting for him. Well, it was an orange-red envelope, definitely not a business-like Manila or plain white wove envelope that brought the usual mail into the office.

Teri was hovering, waiting for his meeting to end, so she could see what his card said.

"Hi Vern, good meeting?" she asked, timing her movement to meet him at his desk as soon as he returned.

"Mmmm. Same ol', same ol'," he muttered, hesitating before sitting. "I suppose you want to see me open my new card?"

"Of course, I checked your desk as soon as I came in," she laughed, "if we still had kettles in the kitchen instead of the hot water on tap, I'd have considered steaming it open for a sneaky look!"

"All right, I'll put you out of your misery," Vernon grinned.

He couldn't help laughing at her impatience, she was unconsciously bouncing from foot to foot and he felt he couldn't break his eye to eye contact with her, but was very aware of her breasts jiggling in his peripheral vision that even her loose top couldn't quite contain.

The card when opened was different to the others, in the way that it was less flowery. The cover was festooned with champagne chilling in a bucket and filled flute glasses, bubbles and ribbons and bows, but was the same high quality card as the others. Someone, Vernon thought, had chosen these cards carefully and well. No pop ups inside this card so it was printed with a message in a similar font as before saying, "I hope like me you are looking forward to the Valentine's Ball on Saturday, and don't you tell the pussycat wife, I am sure she will let the mice play while the cat's away for the night!"

Also in the envelope was a voucher from a fashionable male boutique hairdresser with an appointment for an afternoon hair styling, shave, body massage, manicure and pedicure on Saturday.

"Ooh, that's saucy, Vern," Teri commented, "you get a nice bit of pampering, while your secret Valentine gets the benefit of a handsome clean-shaven and relaxed man with no sharp toenails to put her off her strokes. Vern, you've gotta go on Saturday, just to find out who the hell this thoughtful angel is, haven't you?"

"No, I don't have to go, Teri," Vernon replied, "Remember, I'm a married man."

"Take your wife with you, then, and let her get the benefit of the Ball, the bedroom and ... whatever you can conjure up for her for afters."

"I only have one ticket."

"Then go online and get another, it's probably too late to receive it in the post, but you could get them to leave it at the hotel reception to collect."

"No, they've completely sold out long ago, I looked online on Tuesday evening."

"Then take her with you. Go early, pick up the key to the room as soon as you arrive and leave your wife in the room to shower herself, have a meal sent up for her and a bottle of bubbly, awaiting your return. She'll love it, especially if you can have a laugh about who it was set you up for this. And you can enjoy it at your secret admirer's expense, as the letter stated, it was all paid for up front."

"No, that's not possible, Denise is on a course in London this weekend, and not due back until Sunday afternoon."

"Mmm, I wonder," Teri said, dropping her husky voice to a breathy whisper, "maybe this course she's supposed to be on is not really a course, and that she is planning on surprising you by turning up at the Ball and rocking your socks off all night long, Vern."

Vernon thought that the best way to stop this embarrassment was to say, "I'll think about whether to go or not tonight", and sent Teri about her duties.

As she trotted back to her desk, Vernon couldn't help check out her bum. When he looked up he noticed Larry was looking at him looking at her, a knowing smirk on his face. Vernon shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'Hey, what would you look at?' And Larry nodded back with a sympathetic 'The very same, I know, what else would we be looking at that could come anywhere close to the perfection of that?'

Denise called Vernon on his mobile phone twenty minutes later to say she was ready and heading down to reception. He drove her to the railway station, telling her that he'd had another Valentine card and also a voucher for a haircut.

"You don't need a haircut, Hon, you had one only last week," she observed.

"Yes, I had the usual short back and sides, but this is the full works, or least as far as a guy would go," he replied, "well, it said nothing about a bikini wax!"

"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do, honey," she grinned as she left the passenger seat at the railway station clutching an overnight bag. Vernon drove back to work but with his head too full of thoughts about this mysterious series of Valentine's Day cards to work at his desk meaningfully. He went out mid-afternoon to inspect a building site, which helped make him feel useful and to clear his head, but rather than return to the office, he finished up an hour early.

When Vernon got home to a cold, dark empty house, he found a note on the mat from a delivery service saying that next door had taken in his package. He knocked at old Mrs Matthews' door and she handed him a long, soft parcel that was clearly his hired DJ for tomorrow. He unpacked it and hung it up to air in the bedroom.

xxx

Being almost lunchtime on Friday, the London train carriage was deserted, so Denise put the overnight bag on the seat next to her rather than heft it up to the rack. As soon as she sat down and pulled the tablet from her bag, the train moved off and soon got up to speed; it was the express and there were only half a dozen stops along the way. It was only after she exhaled and settled to relax and about to open the ebook to the page where she had reached in the latest novel by her favourite author, that she realised that not only hadn't Vernon kissed her as she got out of the car, she hadn't taken the effort herself to lean over to the driver's side and kiss him goodbye. It was as if they'd simply taken each other for granted.

That set her thinking, so she put the tablet down. She honestly couldn't remember the last time they had kissed each other, either on parting or greeting even a simple good morning. Even though they had been together 22 years and married for over 21 years, once upon a time they had always kissed in the morning and evening, but they, or was it just she, had allowed that endearment to slip by unnoticed recently, until now.

She realised that she had been so full of her affair over these last few months that she was guilty of ignoring her husband. Sex! She was getting plenty of sex, about four or five times a week, she didn't have any need to get lucky at home any more. That meant that either Vernon wasn't getting any at all ... or he was getting it elsewhere. And now she was heading for two whole days and nights of sex with her lover, leaving her husband in the hands of some temptress who was making a bid for him.

OK, she thought, the course about the new European data handling laws coming into force in May was only a two-hour briefing, and really just a ruse to be able to spend an overnight with her lover Harry, to which Harry had persuaded her to add the Friday night by the excuse of taking the opportunity to do some West End shopping on the Friday afternoon and into the evening. In fact, the traveling in by train was a double feint, because she couldn't be seen going up to London in Harry's car and because she couldn't carry much stuff home, she had already taken the precaution of ordering a dozen things from six different national chains with West End shops online, that would be delivered on Monday, so that she and Harry could have sex in the afternoon and evening throughout Friday and Saturday.

Sex at home. She tried to remember when was the last time she actually had sex with her husband. It took a couple of minutes of thinking, but she was sure it was as long ago as Christmas Eve, she deducted, and it was her husband who had initiated it. He had initiated the previous couple of times when she'd turned him down and basically felt she couldn't get out of it that time. The girls had gone out to a party to meet up with friends and the long-married couple were alone for the first time in several days when she was not out at either a genuine meeting or a pretend one where she was actually screwing Harry Cox.

It wasn't that she no longer loved Vernon. He was still the sweet and loving man he always was and had been throughout those 22 years together and he proved he still was good in bed that night. Christmas Eve was tender loving with Vernon, who was using the knowledge of her body and how she reacted, as well as taking the time to see she got off at least once before he even entered her and sought to complete his own pleasure. They showered together and cuddled on the sofa while they waited up for the girls to get in about midnight to wish them "Merry Christmas", and then they made love again. It had been beautiful and she wore a nice glow Christmas morning, but two days later she was back banging Harry in the flat that his wife didn't know about which he furnished and maintained for his extramarital liaisons.