Week 18 - I Don't Believe It !

The next week was strange with frequent visits from the police, a very tearful visit from Becky’s parents and a rather threatening call from Shirley. All of this whilst I was trying to come to terms with Carol’s revelation about Becky’s infidelity. I decided not to tell my family about the latest Becky twist as my Dad had become very anti-Becky since the non-wedding day and mum was just too busy popping back the Prozac pills.

The Shirley call was the oddest and she seemed to be implying that it I didn’t take her out again then she would tell her police colleagues about how bad I had treated her and that would make them consider me as a suspect in the Becky disappearance. I have never been the kind of chap that can be threatened though and often at school I would take unnecessary beatings instead of doing something somebody was trying to force me to do. Mind you Pete would often take revenge for me at a later date and always without me needing to ask him. This did mean that I felt guilty because as a pacifist I never used violence, but people who crossed me used to feel the force of Pete’s forehead. Pete’s head-butts were legendary and after a couple of years less people picked on me and my wiry frame because they knew how Pete protected me. Maybe I should send Pete round to sort out Shirley. But of course Pete would never lay a finger on a woman. He was a perfect gentleman around the opposite sex. No, I had better deal with Shirley myself and just tell her that I was still in love with my missing bride and unable to start a relationship with anybody else.

So where was Becky? I was now getting really worried about her and annoyed with myself for not worrying earlier. Ok Becky might have been unfaithful, but I would have forgiven her anything as I loved her so much. I mean it happens at Hen Do’s and as I probably didn’t know the fellow involved would it really have mattered. But why did it mean she couldn’t marry me? Was it because his sexual prowess was superior to mine? Perhaps she realised that I was never going to fulfil her sexual needs? I thought I had been doing ok. I mean I did everything it said in that women’s health magazine I read last year. Becky always seemed to enjoy it, even when I made her wait until after Match of the Day. She always made the right noises at the key moments, but maybe the mysterious guy pushed some extra buttons that I hadn’t discovered. But that wasn’t important now the important thing was to find Becky. She had to be safe, but where the hell was she and why had she not contacted her parents? Maybe she had gone off with this mystery man?

It was a Friday evening and I was sitting down to read the Express & Star and listen to the football phone in on the local radio. As always I started with the back page of the paper to see the Sports news and see if Ian Taylor would be fit to face Coventry tomorrow. I worked my way towards the front of the paper and then was hit by the story on page seven. It was not a big story but the title rocked me. It read “Jilted John’s Missing Bride”. As feared the story was about Becky and John, even with the extra ‘H’ in Jon it was me. They spelt my surname wrong as well, added four years to my age and said I lived in Burntwood, but it was definitely me. The story didn’t suggest any foul play but tried to add a bit of mystery. Mind you, there was a mystery as to where my Becky was. The story hit a nerve with me and tears started to trickle down my face. For the first time I started to think about the possible bad things that could have happened to Becky. Maybe it had all been too much for her? Surely she knew I would forgive her anything?

Over the next hour the phone rang repeatedly as it became clear that many of my relatives read every inch of the Express & Star. My mum was first who decided to just ring to sob openly on the phone and I was only able to catch the odd word. Many of which seemed to be ‘poor Becky’. I decided against mentioning her extra sexual activity. This was simply between me and Carol. Although, I was thinking should I be telling the police? I mean what if she had bonked a mad axe-man who had not taken the news that she didn’t want him well and he now had different parts of my bride in the different compartments of his freezer. Next caller was Pete who said he read the story and was going to come and take me out for a beer. Nan also called and told me not to worry as she had had a word with her dead friend Jessie and Becky hadn’t turned up there.

A few hours later I was sitting with Pete in a pub called ‘The Drakes Drum’. It was away from our usual haunts but had been mentioned as a place where a lot of Villa fans went so Pete thought we should try it. Pete didn’t seem his usual self and kept looking around as if he was waiting for somebody to appear. I asked him about this but he said I was imagining it. In all the years I had known Pete he had never been this nervous before. He said he was just worried about the Villa at Coventry tomorrow. Understandable as he had ended up being chased down Coventry high street by abut forty Sky Blues fans. Even though I had hardly touched my pint Pete was back at the bar buying me another pint.

Repeatedly I tried to talk to Pete about the newspaper story and where Becky might be, but he didn’t want to talk about it. He seemed to think I needed to take my mind off it and maybe he was right, but this wasn’t the usual Pete. I decided that Pete was the one person I could trust so I made the decision to tell him about the visit from Carol. He still seemed to not be fully paying attention but he did manage to make an inappropriate comment about Carol’s legs. I then quietly blurted out the information that had being driving mad all week. That Becky had slept with somebody else just two weeks before our wedding day. Pete nearly spat his beer in my face but then quickly composed himself and labelled poor Becky as a ‘tart’. He decided it was time for another round of drinks. Now, something wasn’t right here because Pete had bought four straight round of drinks and that never happened. Normally we would have an odd number of rounds and I would always end up buying one more unless Pete didn’t do the ‘I have forgotten my wallet’ trick and then I would buy them all. But today he was buying drinks non-stop. Maybe he wasn’t well and was about to admit to a serious illness.

Pete returned from the bar surprisingly empty handed. At least I already had two pints lined up. He looked me straight in the eye and announced to my shock that he wasn’t going to Coventry tomorrow. This was just so unlike Pete. We always went to Coventry and usually won. Pete then stood up and then gave me a fiver for a taxi. He was looking as if he was about to cry and I could not understand what was going on. Even Pete is now behaving oddly. What is happening to my life? Pete took a step back and then said something that at first made no sense at all. It sounded like he said ‘it was me’. As Pete walked off I tried to make sense of these comments and then it hit me like a Pete head-butt. Pete had just confessed that he had slept with Becky.

Next Week : New Best Friend