The two policemen repeatedly referred to it as mysterious and apparently Becky’s family had not heard from her since our sham wedding day. I tried to answer their questions but I hadn’t got a clue where she could be. It was quite a shock when the plumper of the two policemen asked if I suspected ‘foul play’. Why would there be ‘foul play’, I mean it seemed clear that Becky had decided that she could not marry this council worker and had gone in search of more excitement. Or was I been a little slow here and had I accepted things too quickly? I told the officers about the texts I had received in the early morning of the wedding. This just resulted in one of the officers quickly getting on his walkie-talkie as if relaying some vital new information. The other policeman then asked to see the phone and the message. Of course I had long since deleted the message as it wasn’t exactly a good memento of the day. The wording of the message was very clearly itched in my brain as it wasn’t exactly an everyday text. Although as I rarely used the phone I could probably remember most of the messages I had received. The attitudes of the officers to me appeared to change and it became apparent that they believed I was hiding something about Becky. Trying to make them less suspicious I showed them the unused wedding dress. This didn’t exactly help my case as they thought it was strange that it was unworn and said they would have to take it away for finger prints. I protested that it would be mainly full of my fingerprints and the plumb one just made more notes in his notebook.
Finally the policemen left me in peace, but made it clear that they would be continuing their enquiries in the morning.
Sleeping that night was almost impossible with my head full of thoughts of the horrible fate that might have befell my beloved Becky, thoughts of Heather’s call and more scary thoughts of date with Shirley. Finally at around six on the Sunday morning I fell asleep and was rather startled a couple of hours later with the sound of the phone ringing. In the hope it was Heather and not the police I ran to the phone and picked up the receiver. The female voice seemed vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it at first. After a few seconds the caller who seemed quite distressed revealed she was Carol, Becky’s best friend. She explained that she really had to talk to me as something terrible had happened. I was thinking that after I had been jilted and had to endure a date with Shirley surely things couldn’t get much more terrible. Carol made it quite clear that she had to see me and she had to see me today. So I gave her directions and told her to come around to the flat and we could talk about it.
Carol was a friend of Becky’s I only saw from a distance and never really got to know her. She always smiled nicely and I know she was some kind of social worker. She had met Becky when they attended some conference together. It was just after mid-day when Carol finally arrived and she was almost shaking. I wasn’t quite sure how to welcome her so I just smiled and pointed into the lounge. Carol seemed thinner and maybe taller than I had recalled but surely she hadn’t grown. All she seemed to be saying was that she had made a really big mistake. To try and calm her down I offered her sweet tea or something stronger. She opted for the sweet tea which was a problem as I had run out of sugar over a month ago. I looked in the kitchen cupboard for something sweet and noticed some golden syrup. Ok it was past its use by date, but I thought a dollop in the tea might make it sweet. It didn’t seem very keen to dissolve, but when I returned to the lounge it was the least of my worries. Carol was now sobbing uncontrollably. She just kept telling me she was sorry. So very very sorry.
I had the horrible feeling I was about to find out something nasty. My mind was working at triple it’s normal speed. The theories going through my mind could have come straight out of Miss Marple’s head. Had Carol killed Becky or maybe she was having a lesbian affair with her. I must stop watching those late night films on Channel Four.
Eventually Carol composed herself just enough to tell me she had no idea where Becky was and was really worried. Well, that was a great help. She had not seen her since the night before the wedding. Well, the day that was supposed to be our wedding. Since then she had not seen or heard from Becky. She then cried even more and her nose began to stream as well. It was at this point I remembered that I was out of tissues as well as sugar. I handed Carol two sheets of Paddington Bear kitchen roll, but even with it being super absorbent it was struggling to keep up with the stream of tears and snot.
So what would Miss Marble or Hetty Wainthorpp do now? The only new information it seemed Carol could provide was what happened the night before the murder, sorry jilting. I tried to look intimidating as I asked Carol what exactly Becky had said to her the night before. Carol just kept apologising and then gave me the news that I really hadn’t been expecting. She said that Becky had been so broken hearted because she knew she couldn’t possibly marry me. The reason was that she had slept with another man just two weeks before our wedding day. I was stunned by this news, but who was he and perhaps more importantly where was Becky now.
Next Week : The guilty party revealed
Showing posts with label aston villa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aston villa. Show all posts
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Week 12 - Birthday Surprise
Today I was thirty and woke up alone. Part of me wanted to by-pass the day, but Pete was not thinking the same as that part of me. He had informed me last night that he had organised a big night out for me and in his words “We are going to Party like its 1999”. Did I feel like partying? Would it matter if I didn’t?
My parents had left a pile of presents for me to open when I woke up and there were a pile of cards by the door the postman had delivered but I just couldn’t be bothered. All I wanted to do was turn over and hide under my duvet that Becky had bought from C&A. The plan was never to turn 30 a single man everything had gone wrong. I should be living in Alrewas with my beautiful wife Becky. Maybe she is thinking of me now on my birthday. Maybe she’ll realise what a mistake she has made and turn up. Or maybe more realistically she will send me a card. For that reason alone I went to pick my cards off the floor. The noise of them hitting the floor when the postman pushed them through about twenty minutes ago seemed quite loud, but I only found four items of post on the floor waiting for me. Of those four items only two looked like birthday cards. The others were a solicitor’s letter reminding me that they wanted paying even though we have pulled out the sale and an invite to a Bridal Fair sponsored by Cosmopolitan. The first card was my Auntie Janet’s handwriting the second was harder to decipher. In fact I was very impressed by the postman that it found me at all. Both cards had decided to remind me, in case I hadn’t realised that I was thirty. My Aunt’s card was an attempt at knowing me because it had a football picture on the front. Admittedly it was Liverpool playing what looked like Rochdale, but it is the thought that counts. I was even called a ‘Special Nephew’. My Uncle Cyril had written his name and my Auntie her’s for some reason. Then for an even stranger reason there was a paw print underneath that must belong to a small pet. I vaguely recall them having a rabbit but it might have been a small cat. The second card gave no clues as to who it was from because they had forgotten to sign it. However inside was a cheque that had been signed with my Nan’s name on. It had the correct date on. This biggest surprise was the amount on the cheque… It was for ten thousand pounds. I was in total shock and just held it in my hands. I didn’t know my Nan had this sort of money. Maybe she is just confused and it will bounce as soon as I try to pay it in. What could I do with ten thousand pounds? New car maybe. With my old car as trade-in I could get a really sporty one to rival Pete’s. I could go on a big holiday? Perhaps Florida or Australia. I could even give up my Council job and travel around the world for a year. Or use it to pay for my season for the next twenty years.
My sister Karen decided to take me out for a birthday lunch to a pub near Wall. Karen was in the middle of a voluntary counselling course at Wolverhampton Poly and I could tell straight away that I was going to be her client for the next hour. Since splitting with Toby, Karen had become quite hippy like and I was relieved to see that the pub wasn’t a vegetarian one and that I could get a large meaty burger with curly fries. We had never really mentioned the split with Toby but as Karen kept trying to find how I really was about ‘The Becky Thing’ then I mirrored most of her questions by asking about Toby. Karen was obviously hiding something and I was in the mood to find out what it was. Like a careful game of chess both of us tried to make our move trying to extract information from the other. If I am honest we were never that close. The four year gap meant that we never really played together and Karen was nearly always one school ahead of me. I had always liked my sister and respected her, but had no idea what made her tick. Why were there no children? Why had things not worked with Toby? What had she spent the last year doing? Karen seemed happy and kept touching my leg as if to comfort me.
I decided not to mention the money, or possible money, off Nan to Karen because she might feel as if I was her favourite.
“Did you get your cheque off Nan this morning?”, Karen surprisingly enquired. I nodded and looked surprised.
“I had the same four years ago when I was thirty. It probably cost me my marriage”, Karen continued to shock me.
It was my turn to listen as Karen explained all the things that had gone wrong since she received the ten thousand pounds. It seems that she had spent most of it within six months on new clothes and jewellery. She had stopped buying her normal clothes from BHS and instead bought clothes that were previously out of her range. She became selfish and wouldn’t let Toby see any of the money. When it had all gone she continued to spend and buy even fancier clothes. All her money then went and soon all of their joint account. Credit card bills mounted and other bills were not paid. Her store cards remained unpaid and everything was putting a strain on the relationship. Toby tried to take all he cards away but by then she was a shopaholic. Every week she bought new outfits and wore them just once. Toby took out a loan to try and clear her debts but still she wanted more clothes. In the end Toby could take it no more so he told her she had to leave. Wow this was a bigger confession than I was expecting.
My sister was now leaning on my shoulder crying uncontrollably as I tried to fit the large burger in my mouth. This was all a little too emotional and it was drawing attention to us. The barman came and asked if everything was alright with our meals and I nodded at him. What a way to spend your thirtieth birthday.
What should I do with the money then, as now it seems as if it was real? My sister could may be do with a bit more to pay her debts off or should I just give it to charity. It was quite a responsibility and one that I wasn’t going to face until I really had to. I certainly wouldn’t be telling Pete because he would probably have some big plan for it.
After lunch with my sister and her revelations I was hoping that a evening with Pete would not be quite as surprising. I was wrong. Pete picked me up at five to eight as he had said he would. Pete had decided that he should drive us into Lichfield and then leave his car there and we would get taxis back. In the past we had arranged to do this then Pete would forget that he had drunk nine points and try and drive home, so this time I was going to take charge of his car keys. I didn’t really feel like going out and I hadn’t made any effort. Even my armpits hadn’t received there daily squirt of Rightguard. Really I just couldn’t be bothered and was in no mood for celebration. Pete didn’t seem his usual laid back self and I began to think that all is not well in his world. He looked quite smart with for once an unripped pair of jeans on and quite a baggy black shirt. He also gave me a card for the first time ever and then surprised me more by pointing to a neatly wrapped present on the backseat. Well, more of a rear shelf in his small car. This was a very rare event a present from Pete. There was even a tag that seemed to have nicked a line from the ‘Golden Girls’ theme tune. It said ‘thank you for being a friend’. The card was also quite serious and telling me how special I was and how I was always there. This was all far too serious if we didn’t watch it we would end up in an embarrassing matey hug. As we drove I opened the present which was far too well wrapped even with a red bow. Either Pete had got somebody else to wrap this or he had hidden feminine side. Inside was a shoe box and inside was an amazing work of art. It stopped me totally in my tracks. It was a wooden model of the Villa Trinity Road stand complete with all the Victorian hoardings. It was fantastic and match from matchsticks. I had to ask Pete where he had managed to get this from as I thought I knew all the Villa official merchandise. Pete then casually revealed that he had spent the last four months making it. This left me not knowing what to say. Was he having me on or had he really done this for me. The detail was amazing and everything looked the perfect scale. I could tell by his modest reaction that this was Pete’s handy work.
“It’s bloody brilliant, isn’t it”, Pete’s modesty didn’t last long.
It was brilliant and probably the best present I have ever had. Even better than ten thousand pounds. Pete was a very special friend and also a very talented one. I just wish he had given me this before we left the house because the speed he was taking the corners at and the fragility of the model was worrying me. The next worry was why we were hurtling past Lichfield and showing no signs of stopping. The Meatloaf CD playing ‘Bat out of Hell’ seemed very appropriate.
It was exactly half past eight when we pulled into a carpark of a pub come hotel just outside of Burton called inappropriately ‘The Albion’. This wasn’t a normal haunt but Pete seemed to know exactly where he was going. Oh dear, I suddenly started to think of those dreaded words ‘SURPRISE PARTY’. Was this all a setup? Would I be greeted by darkness and party poppers? I had never had a surprise party and yes, I had always fancied one but not now, please. Pete led me to a door on the right of the building and then into a room that I think I saw labelled ‘Function Room’. Inside the room we were greeted by a DJ shouting those dreaded words, “Here comes the birthday boy” and the sound of clapping. No party poppers but this certainly was a party.
Next Week : A Naked Birthday Surprise
My parents had left a pile of presents for me to open when I woke up and there were a pile of cards by the door the postman had delivered but I just couldn’t be bothered. All I wanted to do was turn over and hide under my duvet that Becky had bought from C&A. The plan was never to turn 30 a single man everything had gone wrong. I should be living in Alrewas with my beautiful wife Becky. Maybe she is thinking of me now on my birthday. Maybe she’ll realise what a mistake she has made and turn up. Or maybe more realistically she will send me a card. For that reason alone I went to pick my cards off the floor. The noise of them hitting the floor when the postman pushed them through about twenty minutes ago seemed quite loud, but I only found four items of post on the floor waiting for me. Of those four items only two looked like birthday cards. The others were a solicitor’s letter reminding me that they wanted paying even though we have pulled out the sale and an invite to a Bridal Fair sponsored by Cosmopolitan. The first card was my Auntie Janet’s handwriting the second was harder to decipher. In fact I was very impressed by the postman that it found me at all. Both cards had decided to remind me, in case I hadn’t realised that I was thirty. My Aunt’s card was an attempt at knowing me because it had a football picture on the front. Admittedly it was Liverpool playing what looked like Rochdale, but it is the thought that counts. I was even called a ‘Special Nephew’. My Uncle Cyril had written his name and my Auntie her’s for some reason. Then for an even stranger reason there was a paw print underneath that must belong to a small pet. I vaguely recall them having a rabbit but it might have been a small cat. The second card gave no clues as to who it was from because they had forgotten to sign it. However inside was a cheque that had been signed with my Nan’s name on. It had the correct date on. This biggest surprise was the amount on the cheque… It was for ten thousand pounds. I was in total shock and just held it in my hands. I didn’t know my Nan had this sort of money. Maybe she is just confused and it will bounce as soon as I try to pay it in. What could I do with ten thousand pounds? New car maybe. With my old car as trade-in I could get a really sporty one to rival Pete’s. I could go on a big holiday? Perhaps Florida or Australia. I could even give up my Council job and travel around the world for a year. Or use it to pay for my season for the next twenty years.
My sister Karen decided to take me out for a birthday lunch to a pub near Wall. Karen was in the middle of a voluntary counselling course at Wolverhampton Poly and I could tell straight away that I was going to be her client for the next hour. Since splitting with Toby, Karen had become quite hippy like and I was relieved to see that the pub wasn’t a vegetarian one and that I could get a large meaty burger with curly fries. We had never really mentioned the split with Toby but as Karen kept trying to find how I really was about ‘The Becky Thing’ then I mirrored most of her questions by asking about Toby. Karen was obviously hiding something and I was in the mood to find out what it was. Like a careful game of chess both of us tried to make our move trying to extract information from the other. If I am honest we were never that close. The four year gap meant that we never really played together and Karen was nearly always one school ahead of me. I had always liked my sister and respected her, but had no idea what made her tick. Why were there no children? Why had things not worked with Toby? What had she spent the last year doing? Karen seemed happy and kept touching my leg as if to comfort me.
I decided not to mention the money, or possible money, off Nan to Karen because she might feel as if I was her favourite.
“Did you get your cheque off Nan this morning?”, Karen surprisingly enquired. I nodded and looked surprised.
“I had the same four years ago when I was thirty. It probably cost me my marriage”, Karen continued to shock me.
It was my turn to listen as Karen explained all the things that had gone wrong since she received the ten thousand pounds. It seems that she had spent most of it within six months on new clothes and jewellery. She had stopped buying her normal clothes from BHS and instead bought clothes that were previously out of her range. She became selfish and wouldn’t let Toby see any of the money. When it had all gone she continued to spend and buy even fancier clothes. All her money then went and soon all of their joint account. Credit card bills mounted and other bills were not paid. Her store cards remained unpaid and everything was putting a strain on the relationship. Toby tried to take all he cards away but by then she was a shopaholic. Every week she bought new outfits and wore them just once. Toby took out a loan to try and clear her debts but still she wanted more clothes. In the end Toby could take it no more so he told her she had to leave. Wow this was a bigger confession than I was expecting.
My sister was now leaning on my shoulder crying uncontrollably as I tried to fit the large burger in my mouth. This was all a little too emotional and it was drawing attention to us. The barman came and asked if everything was alright with our meals and I nodded at him. What a way to spend your thirtieth birthday.
What should I do with the money then, as now it seems as if it was real? My sister could may be do with a bit more to pay her debts off or should I just give it to charity. It was quite a responsibility and one that I wasn’t going to face until I really had to. I certainly wouldn’t be telling Pete because he would probably have some big plan for it.
After lunch with my sister and her revelations I was hoping that a evening with Pete would not be quite as surprising. I was wrong. Pete picked me up at five to eight as he had said he would. Pete had decided that he should drive us into Lichfield and then leave his car there and we would get taxis back. In the past we had arranged to do this then Pete would forget that he had drunk nine points and try and drive home, so this time I was going to take charge of his car keys. I didn’t really feel like going out and I hadn’t made any effort. Even my armpits hadn’t received there daily squirt of Rightguard. Really I just couldn’t be bothered and was in no mood for celebration. Pete didn’t seem his usual laid back self and I began to think that all is not well in his world. He looked quite smart with for once an unripped pair of jeans on and quite a baggy black shirt. He also gave me a card for the first time ever and then surprised me more by pointing to a neatly wrapped present on the backseat. Well, more of a rear shelf in his small car. This was a very rare event a present from Pete. There was even a tag that seemed to have nicked a line from the ‘Golden Girls’ theme tune. It said ‘thank you for being a friend’. The card was also quite serious and telling me how special I was and how I was always there. This was all far too serious if we didn’t watch it we would end up in an embarrassing matey hug. As we drove I opened the present which was far too well wrapped even with a red bow. Either Pete had got somebody else to wrap this or he had hidden feminine side. Inside was a shoe box and inside was an amazing work of art. It stopped me totally in my tracks. It was a wooden model of the Villa Trinity Road stand complete with all the Victorian hoardings. It was fantastic and match from matchsticks. I had to ask Pete where he had managed to get this from as I thought I knew all the Villa official merchandise. Pete then casually revealed that he had spent the last four months making it. This left me not knowing what to say. Was he having me on or had he really done this for me. The detail was amazing and everything looked the perfect scale. I could tell by his modest reaction that this was Pete’s handy work.
“It’s bloody brilliant, isn’t it”, Pete’s modesty didn’t last long.
It was brilliant and probably the best present I have ever had. Even better than ten thousand pounds. Pete was a very special friend and also a very talented one. I just wish he had given me this before we left the house because the speed he was taking the corners at and the fragility of the model was worrying me. The next worry was why we were hurtling past Lichfield and showing no signs of stopping. The Meatloaf CD playing ‘Bat out of Hell’ seemed very appropriate.
It was exactly half past eight when we pulled into a carpark of a pub come hotel just outside of Burton called inappropriately ‘The Albion’. This wasn’t a normal haunt but Pete seemed to know exactly where he was going. Oh dear, I suddenly started to think of those dreaded words ‘SURPRISE PARTY’. Was this all a setup? Would I be greeted by darkness and party poppers? I had never had a surprise party and yes, I had always fancied one but not now, please. Pete led me to a door on the right of the building and then into a room that I think I saw labelled ‘Function Room’. Inside the room we were greeted by a DJ shouting those dreaded words, “Here comes the birthday boy” and the sound of clapping. No party poppers but this certainly was a party.
Next Week : A Naked Birthday Surprise
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Week 8 - Another Day at Work
By Monday morning I was ready to get back to work after what was supposed to be my leave for my honeymoon. For the last three years I had worked for Walsall Council in the Leisure and Recreations Department. It was a strange job that I actually quite enjoyed and I felt benefited the people from the Walsall area by helping them to get fit and have places to relax. They are trying to change the Department name to ‘Leisure and Culture’ so I am not quite sure if my job will change. Anyway, I work in an office with three other people. There is Dave who is in a wheelchair and constantly runs over everyone’s feet. Dave is a very ‘politically correct’ person who spends hours checking that all leaflets and documents are completely ‘PC’. I like Dave even though he is a Bluenose, Birmingham City fan, but it is very easy to upset him and his sulks are legendary. He once didn’t speak to a colleague for eight months because they used the word ‘handicapped’. The second person in the office is Hasmita who is probably the Department manager but believes we are a team made up of equal parts and nobody is in charge. Hasmita is quite pretty but her legs, which Pete believes would be her best part, are always covered up. When Pete joined us last year at our office Christmas party he tried really hard to ‘get off’ with Hasmita and did manage a long kiss under the mistletoe. Hasmita was quite taken and suggested they could meet up, but her boyfriend could get quite jealous and had got a rather large knife. Pete quickly moved on to Hayley. Hayley is our newest recruit and answers all telephone calls to our department. She is short with brown hair and very rounded breasts with nipples that often poke through her clothing. She is only just twenty and tries hard to please everyone. Every ten minutes she will offer to make us drinks and is willing to do all the tasks that everybody else hates. She could photocopy for England. Hayley actually asked me if it was alright for her to go out on a date with Pete. This surprised me and it was only later that I found out it was because she thought that Pete and I were an item. It wasn’t that she thought I was camp though, more that she thought all council departments had a disabled person, an ethnic minority person and homosexual one. For the next week I exaggerated my butchness in front of Hayley. Of course, Pete thought it was really funny and just joked about how I didn’t love him any more.
When I arrived in the old office that Monday morning, I hadn’t bargained on the fact that no one had told the three work colleagues that things didn’t quite go to plan on my wedding day. Hayley had tried so hard. My desk was covered in confetti and a big sign made up of A4 letters hung across the office. It read ‘Just Married’. As I walked in three of them rose and applauded me. Well, only Hayley and Hasmita rose, Dave just lifted his shoulders and back up a few inches. This was a nice touch and I decided that I didn’t want to go into detail now about my failure. I just said I had had a lovely week. This was mistake as it was followed by questions about the new Mrs. Stadler and requests to see some pictures. For some reason I bluffed it all even saying that the day was all a bit of a daze. I should have been honest, but I wasn’t ready to explain what had happened. It would have been much simpler to say I was jilted, but I felt they had gone to so much effort they deserved more. Perhaps I could keep the pretence going for the next few years. I mean we never meet outside work and Becky never called me at work before. They would probably stop asking to see the photographs after a couple of weeks.
It was a nice change to finally concentrate on work and issues like;- why youths are climbing over Mr Mortimer’s fence to get into Aldridge Park at night. My emails contained lots of good luck messages but I just ignored them. Dave said that he was glad to see I hadn’t followed the modern tradition of male wedding rings. At about half past eleven, just as I was thinking which chocolate should I get from the vending machine next, Tracey from Human Resources came into see me. She was beaming all over and gave me a hug and a big kiss on my now clean shaven cheek. Tracey was prone to big gestures and everything was always ‘supa’ or ‘brill’. She seemed to skip instead of walk and was probably the most irritating person in the company. She was extra excited today and was humming a tune which may well have been the bridal march. She claimed she had, “a little present for our groomy”. I assumed she meant me. She handed me an envelope addressed to Mr & Mrs. J. Sadler. It contained a cheque from the company for one hundred pounds. The letter explained that this was a gift from the company to mark the occasion of my wedding. At this point it might have been advisable to come clean but when I am in a hole I tend to keep digging. I decided to accept the gift but I wouldn’t pay the cheque in. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice.
The rest of the day was full of lies from me and people wishing me well. How long could I keep up this pretence? Perhaps in a few days time I could announce that Becky has left me. At least it was nearly half past five and I had survived my first day back. Just as I am leaving my desk phone rings. I can’t be bothered to get it so I look at Hayley. She says don’t worry I will tell them you have left. Hayley answers the phone and I wait for a few seconds in case it is important. I hear Hayley say the slightly worrying words of, “Oh, hello Mrs. Sadler..”. After a while she puts the phone down and looks at me slightly perplexed. Then in a loud voice, so the whole office can hear, says, “Jonathan, that was your mother asking how you are after Becky left you at the Church”. So that was it the truth was out and the pretence over. Thanks mum.
To be fair Hasmita and Hayley were very understanding and seemed to think I warranted a hug. Dave was less understanding and used some quite colourful language to show his angered at my deceit. It seems that he had never trusted me and wasn’t surprised that a woman would do a runner instead of marrying me. I explained that I had had no intention of paying in the cheque from Human Resources. Dave then enquired when he would be getting back the two quid that he put in my collection. Feeling slightly perturbed by Dave’s reaction I took two pounds fifty out of my pocket and gave it him. Saying here it is back with twenty-five percent interest. Dave was not happy and wheeled his wheelchair round and then pushed off away from me. It was then that Hasmita asked me if I wanted to talk about it. No, of course I didn’t. I had been denying it all day and now I just wanted to get back to my flat and lock myself in.
The flat was now feeling quite empty with all of Becky’s things gone and although I felt safe there I knew that I was going to have to start thinking where I was going to live. The new house in Alrewas would soon be ready but this would be far too big for just me and I would struggle to pay the mortgage on my single wage now. I was going to have to pull out and lose the deposit, but do I pull out of selling the flat as well? Do I need a total restart or do I need some stability in my life? I really need someone like Becky to discuss this with, but I haven’t a clue where Becky is. Should I try and find her? It wouldn’t be difficult as I know where her family live and where she works. Would it be fair on Becky to look for her? She knows where I live so when she wants me she’ll find me. Unless of course I do move.
Later that night Pete came round. He was in a very jolly mood so I was surprised that he had wanted to be with me. Pete had been brilliant through out the whole Becky thing, or ‘Beckygate’ as he had now named it. He seemed able to know when to joke about it and when to just listen. There was definitely a softer side to Pete that at lot of people did not see. Certainly Mark Deacy didn’t back in 1982 when Pete broke his nose because Mark suggested Villa should be banned from the European Cup after a fan ran on the pitch in the semi-final. Pete was lucky not be expelled over that incident and I think the fact that the Head of Year Mr Rimmer was a Villa fan as well helped his case. I think Mark was unlucky to get a detention though. Pete had calmed down a lot since then and I can only really remember him losing his temper twice in the last couple of years. The first was at my twenty-fifth birthday party and a girl Pete had been dating until recently, called Davina, was there. The two had split up and I didn’t really understand why. Pete had claimed that it was an ‘artistic’ difference and Davina claimed it was because Pete was an ‘arse’. Even to this day I don’t know the real story. At the party, held at a pub near Walsall Arboretum, Pete was getting through the pints even quicker than normal. He was very loud and I could tell something was wrong. Things weren’t helped by the fact that Davina was at that very pub with a bloke who she seemed to be getting on with quite well. Comments were passed between Pete and this guy and an atmosphere was starting to build. After about an hour of this uneasy atmosphere Pete pushed a table over, punched his fist against the juke box and stormed out. Pete then went missing for nearly a week with nobody seeing or hearing from him. Of course, this was never mentioned later.
The last time that Pete’s temper surfaced was at a Villa game at the start of last season. It was really strange because with new players in the team including Southgate, Draper and Savo we had totally destroyed Man United. It was the day that Alan Hansen said of United ‘you never win anything with kids’. Then nine months later they had won the double. But that Saturday in August the Villa were brilliant and United second best so why was Pete so wound up. He really hates United but still that doesn’t explain why he was so heated. The blood vessels in his neck looked as if they would pop. The first half saw the Villa three up and still if any decision went against us Pete was on his feet giving the referee a mouthful. Had he been drinking or was it just hate. Three seats down from Pete was a small lad with his dad who was probably about twelve. Second half started and David Beckham scored a consolation goal for them. It was his first ever goal. The little lad jumped up to celebrate and show that he was obviously a United fan. The Dad a Villa fan tried to settle him down and most of us saw the funny side. Except that was for Pete who just exploded. He went straight towards the man and accused him of being a disgrace to let his son support this scum. I couldn’t believe his reaction, especially as the game was won and we were looking at the best Villa side for years. As I had done at school a few times I held Pete back, but he took a lot of holding back and his resembled a wound up Stuart Pearce. Just as the steward started coming towards us the little boy burst into tears and his dad led him out. Moving down the row away from us. The steward, of course, knew Pete and just said, ‘Alright Pete’. It was a good ten minutes before Pete was finally back to being vaguely normal. Never quite understood what happened that day.
Pete had brought with him the new Fifa 1996 game and his Playstation so he had planned our nights activities. His plans has gone further because he announced that the pizza should be here in about twenty minutes and produced four cans of carling out of nowhere. The worry now was what type of pizza Pete had ordered. His tonsils could cope with very very hot tastes a lot better than mine could. Within minutes Pete had attached his Playstation and was handing me a controller. Just then the doorbell rang and the pizza delivery boy, well a man who looked in his late forties with multiple tattoos was standing at the door. It was very kind of Pete, but I was surprised to be charged eight pounds forty-nine and then the stare from the delivery man suggested that it was good practice to give him a tenner and call it quits. With pizza box in my hand to returned to the living room half hoping that Pete might offer to reimburse me. Alas this wasn’t so. The pizza was an ultimate hot and spicy, which Pete almost gobbled whole. Pete then informed me I was Crystal Palace and I was two-nil down to the Villa. Normally I would beat Pete even though it was his game, but he knew that I always hated trying to score against my beloved Villa team. I tried to think of them as West Ham but Pete’s added commentary, naming all the Villa players, prevented this working. In the end we played for over three hours and I lost every game. I tried to blame my poor performance on my recent jilting, but Pete was having none of this. His chanting of ‘Loser, loser’ was taken in good spirit. This was really what I needed after my first day back at work. It seemed to show me that life was really just the same and I still had my best mate here. Yes, he wasn’t Becky – in anyway at all, but he cared and he was there for me.
Next week : Approaching Thirty
When I arrived in the old office that Monday morning, I hadn’t bargained on the fact that no one had told the three work colleagues that things didn’t quite go to plan on my wedding day. Hayley had tried so hard. My desk was covered in confetti and a big sign made up of A4 letters hung across the office. It read ‘Just Married’. As I walked in three of them rose and applauded me. Well, only Hayley and Hasmita rose, Dave just lifted his shoulders and back up a few inches. This was a nice touch and I decided that I didn’t want to go into detail now about my failure. I just said I had had a lovely week. This was mistake as it was followed by questions about the new Mrs. Stadler and requests to see some pictures. For some reason I bluffed it all even saying that the day was all a bit of a daze. I should have been honest, but I wasn’t ready to explain what had happened. It would have been much simpler to say I was jilted, but I felt they had gone to so much effort they deserved more. Perhaps I could keep the pretence going for the next few years. I mean we never meet outside work and Becky never called me at work before. They would probably stop asking to see the photographs after a couple of weeks.
It was a nice change to finally concentrate on work and issues like;- why youths are climbing over Mr Mortimer’s fence to get into Aldridge Park at night. My emails contained lots of good luck messages but I just ignored them. Dave said that he was glad to see I hadn’t followed the modern tradition of male wedding rings. At about half past eleven, just as I was thinking which chocolate should I get from the vending machine next, Tracey from Human Resources came into see me. She was beaming all over and gave me a hug and a big kiss on my now clean shaven cheek. Tracey was prone to big gestures and everything was always ‘supa’ or ‘brill’. She seemed to skip instead of walk and was probably the most irritating person in the company. She was extra excited today and was humming a tune which may well have been the bridal march. She claimed she had, “a little present for our groomy”. I assumed she meant me. She handed me an envelope addressed to Mr & Mrs. J. Sadler. It contained a cheque from the company for one hundred pounds. The letter explained that this was a gift from the company to mark the occasion of my wedding. At this point it might have been advisable to come clean but when I am in a hole I tend to keep digging. I decided to accept the gift but I wouldn’t pay the cheque in. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice.
The rest of the day was full of lies from me and people wishing me well. How long could I keep up this pretence? Perhaps in a few days time I could announce that Becky has left me. At least it was nearly half past five and I had survived my first day back. Just as I am leaving my desk phone rings. I can’t be bothered to get it so I look at Hayley. She says don’t worry I will tell them you have left. Hayley answers the phone and I wait for a few seconds in case it is important. I hear Hayley say the slightly worrying words of, “Oh, hello Mrs. Sadler..”. After a while she puts the phone down and looks at me slightly perplexed. Then in a loud voice, so the whole office can hear, says, “Jonathan, that was your mother asking how you are after Becky left you at the Church”. So that was it the truth was out and the pretence over. Thanks mum.
To be fair Hasmita and Hayley were very understanding and seemed to think I warranted a hug. Dave was less understanding and used some quite colourful language to show his angered at my deceit. It seems that he had never trusted me and wasn’t surprised that a woman would do a runner instead of marrying me. I explained that I had had no intention of paying in the cheque from Human Resources. Dave then enquired when he would be getting back the two quid that he put in my collection. Feeling slightly perturbed by Dave’s reaction I took two pounds fifty out of my pocket and gave it him. Saying here it is back with twenty-five percent interest. Dave was not happy and wheeled his wheelchair round and then pushed off away from me. It was then that Hasmita asked me if I wanted to talk about it. No, of course I didn’t. I had been denying it all day and now I just wanted to get back to my flat and lock myself in.
The flat was now feeling quite empty with all of Becky’s things gone and although I felt safe there I knew that I was going to have to start thinking where I was going to live. The new house in Alrewas would soon be ready but this would be far too big for just me and I would struggle to pay the mortgage on my single wage now. I was going to have to pull out and lose the deposit, but do I pull out of selling the flat as well? Do I need a total restart or do I need some stability in my life? I really need someone like Becky to discuss this with, but I haven’t a clue where Becky is. Should I try and find her? It wouldn’t be difficult as I know where her family live and where she works. Would it be fair on Becky to look for her? She knows where I live so when she wants me she’ll find me. Unless of course I do move.
Later that night Pete came round. He was in a very jolly mood so I was surprised that he had wanted to be with me. Pete had been brilliant through out the whole Becky thing, or ‘Beckygate’ as he had now named it. He seemed able to know when to joke about it and when to just listen. There was definitely a softer side to Pete that at lot of people did not see. Certainly Mark Deacy didn’t back in 1982 when Pete broke his nose because Mark suggested Villa should be banned from the European Cup after a fan ran on the pitch in the semi-final. Pete was lucky not be expelled over that incident and I think the fact that the Head of Year Mr Rimmer was a Villa fan as well helped his case. I think Mark was unlucky to get a detention though. Pete had calmed down a lot since then and I can only really remember him losing his temper twice in the last couple of years. The first was at my twenty-fifth birthday party and a girl Pete had been dating until recently, called Davina, was there. The two had split up and I didn’t really understand why. Pete had claimed that it was an ‘artistic’ difference and Davina claimed it was because Pete was an ‘arse’. Even to this day I don’t know the real story. At the party, held at a pub near Walsall Arboretum, Pete was getting through the pints even quicker than normal. He was very loud and I could tell something was wrong. Things weren’t helped by the fact that Davina was at that very pub with a bloke who she seemed to be getting on with quite well. Comments were passed between Pete and this guy and an atmosphere was starting to build. After about an hour of this uneasy atmosphere Pete pushed a table over, punched his fist against the juke box and stormed out. Pete then went missing for nearly a week with nobody seeing or hearing from him. Of course, this was never mentioned later.
The last time that Pete’s temper surfaced was at a Villa game at the start of last season. It was really strange because with new players in the team including Southgate, Draper and Savo we had totally destroyed Man United. It was the day that Alan Hansen said of United ‘you never win anything with kids’. Then nine months later they had won the double. But that Saturday in August the Villa were brilliant and United second best so why was Pete so wound up. He really hates United but still that doesn’t explain why he was so heated. The blood vessels in his neck looked as if they would pop. The first half saw the Villa three up and still if any decision went against us Pete was on his feet giving the referee a mouthful. Had he been drinking or was it just hate. Three seats down from Pete was a small lad with his dad who was probably about twelve. Second half started and David Beckham scored a consolation goal for them. It was his first ever goal. The little lad jumped up to celebrate and show that he was obviously a United fan. The Dad a Villa fan tried to settle him down and most of us saw the funny side. Except that was for Pete who just exploded. He went straight towards the man and accused him of being a disgrace to let his son support this scum. I couldn’t believe his reaction, especially as the game was won and we were looking at the best Villa side for years. As I had done at school a few times I held Pete back, but he took a lot of holding back and his resembled a wound up Stuart Pearce. Just as the steward started coming towards us the little boy burst into tears and his dad led him out. Moving down the row away from us. The steward, of course, knew Pete and just said, ‘Alright Pete’. It was a good ten minutes before Pete was finally back to being vaguely normal. Never quite understood what happened that day.
Pete had brought with him the new Fifa 1996 game and his Playstation so he had planned our nights activities. His plans has gone further because he announced that the pizza should be here in about twenty minutes and produced four cans of carling out of nowhere. The worry now was what type of pizza Pete had ordered. His tonsils could cope with very very hot tastes a lot better than mine could. Within minutes Pete had attached his Playstation and was handing me a controller. Just then the doorbell rang and the pizza delivery boy, well a man who looked in his late forties with multiple tattoos was standing at the door. It was very kind of Pete, but I was surprised to be charged eight pounds forty-nine and then the stare from the delivery man suggested that it was good practice to give him a tenner and call it quits. With pizza box in my hand to returned to the living room half hoping that Pete might offer to reimburse me. Alas this wasn’t so. The pizza was an ultimate hot and spicy, which Pete almost gobbled whole. Pete then informed me I was Crystal Palace and I was two-nil down to the Villa. Normally I would beat Pete even though it was his game, but he knew that I always hated trying to score against my beloved Villa team. I tried to think of them as West Ham but Pete’s added commentary, naming all the Villa players, prevented this working. In the end we played for over three hours and I lost every game. I tried to blame my poor performance on my recent jilting, but Pete was having none of this. His chanting of ‘Loser, loser’ was taken in good spirit. This was really what I needed after my first day back at work. It seemed to show me that life was really just the same and I still had my best mate here. Yes, he wasn’t Becky – in anyway at all, but he cared and he was there for me.
Next week : Approaching Thirty
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