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Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker

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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #285 on: January 17, 2011, 05:58 PM »
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              CHAPTER ELEVEN

            CONCEPTION

   Jill was absolutely horrified. She'd been to the doctor’s and he'd confirmed it. She was pregnant. Up until now she'd tried to pretend that she wasn't, but now she could pretend no longer. It was Friday the third of October and she’d missed three periods. She'd conceived on Friday the twenty-fifth of July, the night she’d let Vic have sex in the guest room. She couldn’t believe it. He’d dropped her in the mire right up to her neck. He’d come inside her without using contraceptives. He’d known that she was in a duel with her husband to see who was going to be able to divorce who, for adultery first, and he’d completely ruined her chances. She could kill him. She had thought she could trust him, but she could see now that she couldn’t. He’d got her into more trouble than she could ever have imagined possible. He’d not only turned her into a flagrant adulteress but had made her a complete laughing stock too: a married woman who couldn’t have sex behind her husband’s back without getting caught out in the process, by becoming accidentally pregnant, like a pathetic teenager, like her mother and her grandmother before her, except that, unlike them, she wasn’t merely going to produce a *******, but, an adulterous *******, an adulterine, the most sinful object in Christendom and was going to end up on public display, in the dock at Divorce Court being convicted of adultery and producing an adulterine for the whole world to know and descend into the depths of infamy and become the ultimate object of public humiliation and contempt.
   
She couldn’t believe it. Now her father and his family wouldn’t just condemn her for being totally depraved, but would deride her for being totally stupid too; they would be rolling about on the floor in hysterics. And her friends at the church wouldn’t just condemn her for being a sacrilegious hypocrite, but would denounce her for being a perfidious degenerate as well, and she would become a total pariah! It was unbelievable. How could she have let it happen? Was she mad?

She’d taken the pill for seven years to avoid getting pregnant by her husband before they were ready to start a family, and then, having stopped taking it at Crawley when her husband had betrayed her over Geri, in 1967, she’d failed to start taking it again at Eastleigh in 1969, to avoid getting pregnant by her boyfriend and getting caught out committing adultery. Shouldn’t she have realized that it was a thousand times more important to avoid getting pregnant by her boyfriend and getting caught out committing adultery than it was to avoid getting pregnant by her husband before they were ready to start a family?

She could have screamed with vexation. Now she was completely ruined. What could she do to save herself? How could she hide her crime? How could she evade her infamy? There was only one thing she could do: beg her husband’s forgiveness and ask him to let her stay and accept the baby as his, but what chance was there of his agreeing to that? Very little. And if he was still seeing Amy, none at all. But was he still seeing Amy? That was the question!

She didn’t know, but she hadn’t seen any sign of it since the party in March and it wasn’t for the sake of trying. She’d been trying to catch him out seeing Amy for six months with no success. She’d thought she was going to succeed at the end of July when he’d told her that he was going to attend a residential sailing course for teachers run by the Local Education Authority at Calshot in the second week of August. She’d assumed straightaway that he was lying and that he was really going to sneak off and go on holiday with Amy for a week, and so she’d asked her brother, David, who was a PE teacher to attend the course too, in the hope of catching him out, but, to her disgust, her brother had come home after only two days and told her that her husband was not only attending the course but was attending it most enthusiastically, and seemed to be an expert on the subject of sailing, which had completely dashed her hopes, except that when she came to think about it again now, she could see that there might be some hope in the thought that if he’d really become enthusiastic about sailing then he might have started going for its own sake, and stopped going to see Amy and might even have stopped seeing her altogether, but, she realized that even if he had stopped seeing Amy, he might still refuse to help her, because she’d been so nasty to him over the past six months.

She’d been particularly nasty to him in July when he’d wanted to have sex. He’d let her know that he wanted it by sliding up behind her in bed and poking his erect penis up between the back of her legs through her nightdress, but instead of letting him have it, like a good wife should, she’d refused and turned on him like a maniac, and hollered at him at the top of her voice, in a tone of utter disgust: “What do you think you’re doing?”, which had frightened the wits out of him and made him jump back across the bed like a frightened rabbit, which she'd found rather amusing at the time, but which she wasn’t finding very amusing now, because it meant that she'd alienated the only person who could have helped her hide her crime, and she couldn’t believe how badly things were going.

The fates seemed to have conspired against her. In nine years of marriage, she’d never needed her husband’s help before, and she'd never alienated him before either, and so, how had both things managed to happen both together at exactly the same time? How had she managed to alienate her husband for the first time in her life at the only time in her life, that she’d ever needed his help? What sort of a diabolical coincidence was that? She didn't know. It was as if she'd fallen into some sort of diabolical trap set by unseen forces, and it hadn’t just started in July!

It had started five months earlier in February when she’d gone to the Ouija Board session. If the Ouija Board hadn't told her that Vic was going to emigrate to Canada and marry somebody else, then she wouldn't have started panicking about what to do to make him stay, and then two weeks later, if her husband hadn’t started being sexually promiscuous with Sandra in the back of the taxi, she wouldn’t have started being sexually promiscuous with Vic, and then in March, if her husband hadn't started carrying on with Amy at the party in front of everybody and making it clear that he was having sex with her, then she wouldn’t have started having sex with Vic, and then she wouldn’t have got pregnant.

The fates had conspired against her and dropped her in the mire right up to her neck and so how was she going to get out of it? How was she going to hide her crime? How was she going to save herself from total ruin? How was she going to persuade her husband to let her stay and accept the baby as his, and how was she going to persuade him to forgive her for having had sex with another man behind his back? And she realized that there was only one thing she could do. She would have to lie. She would have to say that she hadn’t had sex with another man behind his back, willingly. She would have to say that she’d had it unwillingly. She would have to say that she’d been raped. And she wouldn’t be able to tell him when it had happened, because when she’d got pregnant in July in the guest room her husband had been lying ill in bed in the next room, and so if she were to say she’d been raped then, he would want to know why she hadn’t called out for help, and so she would have to say that it had happened in August, when he was away from home attending the sailing course at Calshot.

   When she told Vic that she wanted to stay with her husband to have the baby, she feared he would go berserk but found to her surprise that he didn’t, for thinking she was mad if she thought her husband was going to agree to that, and so had listened quite happily as she’d explained to him as reassuringly as possible, that she didn’t plan to stay with her husband any longer than she had to, but that as soon as she’d got his name on the baby’s birth certificate she would leave him and move into a small flat on her own, so that nobody would become suspicious about the baby’s paternity, and then, after a decent interval, she would leave the flat and find a house out of town away from prying eyes so that she could move into it, and live with him, and that, he would therefore have to sell his flat in Cupernham as soon as possible so that he could buy one for her, because she would be needing to move into it in only ten months time, and was pleased to see that he agreed quite happily with her first request, but wasn’t so pleased to see that he didn’t agree at all happily with her second.

   It had occurred to her that even if her husband did let her stay, the neighbours might still suspect that the baby was Vic’s, because he’d spent so much time on his own with her, over the previous eighteen months, and none with her husband, and so had decided that she would have to throw up a smokescreen, as she had with James, and get Vic to do things with her husband as James had done, so that the neighbours would think that he was her husband’s friend and not her boyfriend too, only to find that when she told him what she wanted that he wasn’t happy to help her at all, but complained bitterly that it wouldn’t work because he couldn’t stand the sight of her husband and wouldn’t be able to pretend that he did, as if she could care less who he couldn’t stand the sight of, and so she’d had to spell it out for him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t do what she wanted, then he wouldn’t be seeing anymore of her, either, until eventually he saw the error of his ways and agreed, so that she was able to arrange for him to go to the pictures with her husband on the following Saturday afternoon, when she was able to follow the two men out of the house and down the drive together, and was able to make a big show of waving them off, as they drove off down the road together in Vic’s car like bosom friends, knowing that all the neighbours were watching from behind their curtains, and then had hoped to be able to repeat the exercise on a weekly basis, only to find that when Vic came home from her first carefully planned outing that he’d messed everything up and instead of getting on well with her husband and making a friend of him, as she’d told him to, he’d got on badly with him and made an enemy of him instead by losing his temper with him in the cinema and yelling at him to shut up because he’d kept talking whilst the film was on, with the result that the two men were now no longer talking, and that he’d completely spoilt her plans and she'd been absolutely fuming.

   Vic didn’t know if he was coming or going. Instead of Jill being proud and delighted to know that her momentous decision to let him share her sacred bed and her divine body had resulted in her becoming pregnant with his adorable child, she seemed to be ashamed of it and to think that she should try to cover it up and ask her husband to let her stay and accept the baby as his, as if there was any chance of his agreeing to that, and that, she’d even expected him to join her in her mad schemes and pretend to be her husband’s best friend, despite his explaining to her that it wouldn’t work, because he couldn’t stand the sight of him, with the result that she was now fuming with him, because it hadn’t, all of which was driving him round the bend, and making him think that he couldn’t wait for the day to come when she actually got round to putting her mad scheme into practice so that she could find out, once and for all, just exactly how mad it was.

Jill felt utterly terrified. The time had come when she would have to tell her husband the bad news. She couldn’t wait any longer. She feared that she’d waited too long as it was. Six weeks had passed since the sailing course. If she were to say she’d been raped then, he might already ask her why she hadn’t told him before. She’d already decided that the best time to tell him would be after lunch on a Sunday, when he would be at his most relaxed for being preoccupied with thoughts of going sailing, and when hopefully, he would also be at his most receptive and sympathetic to her appeal, which meant that there were only two days left before she would have to face her horrendous ordeal.

   She hardly slept a wink the next two nights, and when Sunday morning finally came, she couldn’t believe how terrified she felt. She struggled to adopt a normal appearance, but felt more like a robot than a person as she struggled to go through the motions of living a normal day. Her husband held her life in his hands. If he let her stay, she lived. If he didn’t, she died. It was a living nightmare. What could she say to win his sympathy? What could she say to plead her case? What could she do to gain his support? She'd rehearsed her lines a million times over, but they always ended up in the same way, by dissolving into endless, incoherent babbling.

And what was she going to wear? It would have to be something he liked: something to bring back happy memories: the going-away outfit she'd worn when they’d gone on their honeymoon: her green and brown, county-style tweed suit, along with the silk blouse and lizard-skin shoes they'd bought together afterwards. It might help in her efforts to win his sympathy to wear something that reminded him of happier times, and she would have to make herself look as attractive as possible, too. Lancôme was supposed to add allure and as she looked at herself in the mirror and applied her cosmetics this morning with more care than she’d ever taken before, she prayed that it would work its magic today.

   The morning passed in slow motion. Every second was a minute. Every minute was an hour. She couldn't believe how slowly time could go. She ate her lunch feeling like a condemned woman in her cell eating her last meal, but what she faced was worse than death. Death was respectable. Her fate wasn't. Hers was a fate worse than death. If she were to be condemned then she would die a million times over.

Suddenly the meal was over and she found herself helping her husband to stack the dirty plates on the worktop in the kitchen. He normally did the washing up on his own after lunch on a Sunday, whilst she went off into the lounge to sit down on the sofa and read her novel and wait for Vic to arrive, but today was not normal. Today was abnormal. Today there would be no reading of her novel. Today there would be no waiting for Vic to arrive. Today Vic would not be coming. Today Vic was staying at home, sitting by the phone, waiting for her to call.

Her time had come. No actress about to go on stage on the opening night of the most prestigious West End play, with a critical audience of thousands, could have felt more sick, more terrified, or more filled with dread, than she.

   She dragged herself from the kitchen into the lounge to take up her well-rehearsed position by the fireplace, and turned to face the door, to await the arrival of her critical audience of one. When the curtain rose, would she be able to remember her lines? Would she be able to deliver them? Would she even be able to remain on her feet? She feared that she wouldn't, as nausea swept over her and her legs started to buckle, and she stretched out a hand to steady herself against the mantelpiece, as suddenly, in a trice, before a second had hardly seemed to pass, the curtain rose, the door opened and her audience of one arrived, caught in mid-stride in the doorway, for finding her standing by the fireplace facing him, as he’d never seen her before, her left arm outstretched, her hand resting lightly on the mantelpiece, as if she were about to deliver a speech.

   He looked confused as he waited, motionless, in the pregnant silence, for her to begin. The most pregnant silence she would ever know, with "pregnant" being the operative word: the word that she must utter, but the word that would not come, as a sense of defeat completely engulfed her and she felt as if she were going to die.

Vic was right. There was no way that her husband was going to let her stay. Why should he? He would be horrified when he heard the news. She’d been horrified when she’d heard it herself. She was pregnant and the child was not her husband’s, as the child of a respectable, faithful and devoted wife should be, but, was the child of another man, as the child of a respectable, faithful and devoted wife should not be. He wouldn’t want to hear any more. That would be enough. That would mean that she was not a respectable, faithful and devoted wife. That would mean that she was a disgraceful, treacherous and adulterous one, and what husband would want to keep a wife like that? None! And there was no point in her thinking otherwise.

And there was no point in her telling him that she’d been raped when he’d gone sailing, six weeks earlier, because he wouldn’t believe it. She’d left it too late to say that. She should have told him at the time. She couldn’t believe now that she hadn’t. Why hadn’t she? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t help wishing that she had, because now he would know that it wasn’t true, and would just laugh in her face when she said it, and kick her out, and so, what was the point of her saying anything, none, which was just as well, because she couldn't. She was petrified. She’d seized up. She’d lost her voice. She was transfixed. She couldn’t say a word and even if she had been able to speak, who would ever want to have to say to their husband:

"I'm pregnant. It's not yours!"?

Nobody.

Such words would hit the air like an atomic bomb, and then, hang upon it, menacingly, like the mushroom cloud that followed. And like the bomb they would devastate everybody in their path, and she couldn't bear the thought of having to watch her husband's face change from its current expression of benign trust and sympathetic concern to shock, horror and total disbelief.

   Vic was busy tidying his flat in readiness for Jill's arrival. She would soon be telling her husband that he’d made her pregnant, and be asking him if he would let her stay and accept the baby as his, and be finding out that he wouldn’t. Her husband wasn’t stupid. He would know very well that if his wife had got pregnant by another man behind his back, then, she must have been carrying on with him behind his back for months too. He’d already caught her out kissing him once in the past, and he hadn’t been very happy about that, and so he would be a lot less happy about this, and so there was no doubt now, what he would do. He would kick her out and she would be ringing him up and asking him to go over and pick her up and bring her back to the flat, when he would be making the most important journey of his life.

He couldn't believe his luck. His beloved and he were going to be together at last. All his years of waiting would be over. His moment of glory would have come. A moment which, at times, he'd thought was never going to come at all. He was going to get the woman of his dreams for whom he'd been waiting for twenty years, and not only that, he was going to get his own lovely little baby too.

   He couldn't believe how lucky he'd been in making Jill pregnant. It had brought everything to a head and forced her to leave her pathetic husband at last. Her pregnancy seemed to have come as a bit of a shock to her. She seemed to have forgotten how easy it was to get pregnant. Reading "The Bell" had probably caused that. Dora the heroine had never used precautions and had never got pregnant, despite having had sex endlessly. It had lulled her into a false sense of security. Things couldn’t have gone better. He couldn’t believe now how clever he’d been in lending her it.

   And he couldn't wait for the birth of his lovely little baby either. Jill was already three months pregnant. In just six months time, his beloved and he would be sharing the most ecstatic moment of their lives. He could visualize now how he would be standing at the bottom of her bed, gazing down upon her adorable form, as she gave birth to their divine first-born child. It would be the fulfilment of all his dreams.

He couldn't believe how his luck had changed. Before the clock struck three, he was going to hear that all his most heartfelt prayers had finally been answered, and that his life was going to become total bliss forever. It was unbelievable. He was totally euphoric. He knew now for sure that the gods really must be smiling down upon him, and that his lucky day finally had come. He could hardly believe it. It was like a Fairy Story. It seemed almost too good to be true.
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #286 on: January 17, 2011, 06:05 PM »
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"He’d dropped her in the mire right up to her neck. He’d come inside her without using contraceptives."

Silly Jill should have stayed on the pill.  Takes two to tango... 

Vic didn’t know if he was coming or going

Oh, I think we'll find he did!  Oh George, the drama of it all.  Very Happy

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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #287 on: January 17, 2011, 07:15 PM »
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What drama George ...  fainting  Are you sure you're not secretly an author for Mills & Boon  Smile

Question ... why couldn't she bring herself to tell her husband she was pregnant?  Just stage fright?  Fear of husband?  Fear of conseqences?

I don't really think the pickle she found herself in is all that unusual.  Her problem was that she had stopped sleeping with her husband, so was unable to pass the child off as his.  Perhaps that makes her a better person than lots of others ??
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #288 on: January 17, 2011, 07:18 PM »
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^ Her problem was, that she didn't take responsibility for her own well being!  You wanna get jiggy with it, then hello.... contraception!  Very Happy
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #289 on: January 17, 2011, 07:20 PM »
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She should certainly have done that, but given that she didn't, has she had an attack of conscience ??
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #290 on: January 17, 2011, 08:14 PM »
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"He’d dropped her in the mire right up to her neck. He’d come inside her without using contraceptives."

Silly Jill should have stayed on the pill.  Takes two to tango... 

You can say that again !!!

Vic didn’t know if he was coming or going

Quote
Oh, I think we'll find he did! 

Well it all depends on what you mean by “know”. He knew what he was trying to do ...  but ...  it didn’t turn out quite as he expected  ...   he didn’t expect Jill to turn so nasty ...  and it gets worse ...   and it’s not over yet ...   is it?

Quote
Oh George, the drama of it all.  Very Happy 

Yeah ..  and it gets much worse ..


What drama George ...  fainting  Are you sure you're not secretly an author for Mills & Boon  Smile

Nope ..  just a reporter reporting the facts ...  but I must admit I did have to work hard to see things from Jill’s point of view and come to feel sorry for her ...

Quote
  Question ... why couldn't she bring herself to tell her husband she was pregnant?  Just stage fright?  Fear of husband?  Fear of conseqences?

Because she was utterly terrified of being divorced and exposed in front of her father’s family and her Church friends   !!   

She was very stuck up and had a very high opinion of herself and there was a lot of rivalry with other children on her father’s side of the family and she wanted to end up being seen as top-dog, not as a common-slut !!

Quote
  I don't really think the pickle she found herself in is all that unusual. 

No it wasn’t  ..  it was her family circumstances and her Church life circumstances that were unusual ...   She thought a lot of herself at Church for having been appointed the Sunday School Superintendent ...

Quote
  Her problem was that she had stopped sleeping with her husband, so was unable to pass the child off as his.  Perhaps that makes her a better person than lots of others ?? 

That might appear to be the case as this stage ...  but  ...  You can not imagine what she does later  .. 


^ Her problem was, that she didn't take responsibility for her own well being!  You wanna get jiggy with it, then hello.... contraception!  Very Happy 

Right ...   she was actually a bit naive  ...

She should certainly have done that, but given that she didn't, has she had an attack of conscience ?? 

Well  ..   she’s had more than an attack of conscience  ...   she’s had an attack of totally overwhelming and terrifying guilt  ... which is why she goes to such lengths to try to hide her crime   ....
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #291 on: January 17, 2011, 08:36 PM »
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That's right ... I'd forgotten all the church connections.  Of course the church folk wouldn't necessarily think that she was pregnant with someone else's child unless she, or someone else, told them.  They'd just assume it was her husband's wouldn't they?  And, if they thought that, then there would be no reason for her to be mortified would there?
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #292 on: January 17, 2011, 08:58 PM »
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That's right ... I'd forgotten all the church connections.  Of course the church folk wouldn't necessarily think that she was pregnant with someone else's child unless she, or someone else, told them.  They'd just assume it was her husband's wouldn't they?  And, if they thought that, then there would be no reason for her to be mortified would there?

Absolutely  ...  and she's a bit fanatical that they don't find out ...  and so ...
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #293 on: February 07, 2011, 06:50 PM »
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   PART TWO

            CHAPTER TWELVE

            WHO IS TO BLAME?

   Sunday October 5th. 1969.
   34 Brunswick Road, Fair Oak, Eastleigh, Hampshire.

   After washing up the lunch things, I left the kitchen, and crossed the hall into the lounge. The autumn sun was streaming in through the large front-room window filling the room with a rich golden glow. It was my favourite sort of day. The golden glow filled me with a sense of peace and well-being.

I stopped in the doorway. Something was wrong. My wife Jill was standing by the fireplace, her left arm outstretched, her hand resting lightly on the mantelpiece. She stood tall, slim and elegant in her county-style, brown and green tweed suit, cream silk blouse, tan tights and crocodile leather, high-heeled shoes. Her shining, auburn hair framed her fair, oval face and blue eyes, glamorously enhanced with cosmetics by Lancome.

She looked every inch the lady, as she was wont to do, but why was she standing? Jill was never standing, when I entered the lounge on a Sunday afternoon. She was usually sitting on the sofa, talking to her old school-friend, Vic, or reading her novel.

   And where was Vic? He was usually here by now to keep Jill company whilst I went sailing for the afternoon. I was grateful to him for his visits because it meant that I could go sailing without feeling guilty at leaving Jill on her own. I seemed to have become obsessed. As soon as the sun shone and the wind blew, I was off. I couldn’t resist. I even went out in a Force 6 in the winter. My seventeen-foot "Kestrel" dinghy was difficult to sail single-handed, and I couldn't stand being beaten.

   And why was Jill leaning against the mantelpiece? Jill didn’t ever lean. She was too upright to lean: too upright physically and too upright morally. She was particularly upright, morally, about sex. She didn't believe in it. She didn't believe in married women engaging in it, much, and she didn't believe in unmarried women engaging in it, at all, and if they did and became accidentally pregnant, then, that was very much worse. That was the depths of depravity. Jill hated unmarried mothers with a vengeance, as she was quick to say, given the chance, which I didn’t understand. It didn’t seem to be very Christian.

   I looked at her face. She wasn't looking very happy. That wasn't a good sign. Things weren't going very well for us. My marriage seemed to be heading straight for the rocks. Jill seemed to have gone off me altogether. I didn't know why, but there were only two possibilities: either I'd done something to upset her or she'd become romantically interested in somebody else. I would have preferred it to be the latter. I didn't want the breakdown in my marriage to be my fault. I would have preferred it to be hers, but was it? Had she become romantically interested in somebody else, or not?

   At one time I'd thought she had. The year before, I’d caught her kissing Vic in the lounge. They were sitting side-by-side on the sofa, with their heads turned towards each other and their lips just touching, but I didn’t get a chance to see anymore because as soon as I arrived Jill leapt up off the sofa and shot across the room to the other side, laughing her head off as if it was all a joke, but I wasn’t convinced.

I looked at Vic. He was leaning forward with his head down between his knees, too scared to show his face, looking the picture of guilt, but why? What did he have to feel guilty about and I guessed the answer was obvious, because the kiss had not been a joke, and he was ashamed at having been caught out engaging in it and I couldn’t believe it. I'd always thought Jill and Vic were the models of honour and decency, but they weren’t looking very honourable and decent now and I couldn’t help feeling sick with disgust.

They were not only carrying on behind my back, but were doing it in my own house, with me in it, knowing I could walk in on them at any time and catch them at it, and not caring if I did. They were treating me with complete contempt, but why? What had I done to deserve it? Nothing, as far as I knew. I’d always treated Vic with complete respect and consideration and made him feel welcome in my house, as Jill’s old school friend and had thought that he would be grateful to me for my hospitality and treat me with complete respect and consideration too, but it didn’t seem to have worked.

And I’d always treated Jill with respect and consideration too, and told her quite openly that if she were ever to meet somebody else she preferred, then she shouldn’t feel guilty about it because these things happen in the best of families, but should feel free to tell me all about it and leave on a friendly and amicable basis with my blessing, and had thought that she would be grateful to me for my liberality and treat me with respect and consideration too, but that didn’t seemed to have worked either, so, what was I going to do now? How was I going to find out if Jill was romantically interested in Vic or not and realized that there was only one thing I could do. I would have to leave her on her own with him as much as possible, in the hope that if she was romantically interested in him, then, in the fullness of time her interest in him would blossom to the point where she would be happy to tell me about it and leave, but was surprised to find, after eight months, that she still hadn’t told me anything, and hadn’t shown much sign of still being interested in him either, until we went to a Ouija Board session at a friend’s house, when, to my amazement she showed every sign.

I’d never been to a Quija Board session before and only went out of curiosity, but it wasn’t long before I wished I hadn’t bothered. It was a complete waste of time. The glass with all our fingers on it was supposed to move to the letters set out in a circle around the edge of the table to spell out words in answer to people’s questions but it hadn’t spelt out any. It had just meandered around in the middle of the table with no sense of direction at all, and some people had become really upset at getting no reassuring news about their dead relatives, until finally I became so mind-numbingly bored and frustrated, that I decided to answer the questions myself, and was surprised to see how easy it was for me to push the glass across the table to the “YES” card on the other side, to give people the reassuring answers they wanted, and then to watch it move back into the middle on its own, under the pressure of everybody else’s fingers, ready for the next question, until, Jill suddenly looked up with a merry little laugh and said,

'Is Vic going to emigrate?' and I couldn’t believe it. Why was she asking a question about Vic in front of everybody? Did she want everybody to think she was romantically interested in him?

And why was she asking the Oiuja Board a question about Vic, anyway, when he was sitting right next to her? If she wanted to know something about Vic why didn’t she ask him?

And why was she laughing? Asking the Quija Board questions wasn’t supposed to be funny it was supposed to be serious.

And why was she asking a question about the living? You weren’t supposed to ask questions about the living, you were supposed to ask questions about the dead, and my heart sank. Was it a trap?

Was Vic waiting for me to get the answer wrong so that he could look up and contradict me, and I started to feel sick and wish that I’d never started answering the questions. You couldn’t get caught out giving wrong answers about the dead because the dead can’t speak, but not the same could be said of the living. They could.

Now it looked as if I was going to get caught out and end up looking completely stupid and wondered if I could work out what Vic was going to do by studying his expression. If he was glaring at me with an accusing look on his face then I would know that I was in trouble, otherwise not, and was relieved to see that he wasn’t looking at me at all. I was safe, which brought me back to the question at hand. Was Vic going to emigrate, or not?

I had no idea. I hadn’t even known he was thinking about it. Jill hadn’t said anything to me about it. Why not? She would have, if he had been, wouldn't she? It was a serious matter, and I would definitely have wanted to know about it. And then I suddenly realized that the answer to the question was obvious. Vic must be thinking about emigrating or Jill wouldn’t be bothering to ask a question about it, and my heart sank. That meant that she was having secret conversations with him behind my back. Why was she doing that? I didn't know, but I couldn’t helping feeling sick at her disloyalty, and couldn’t believe what a weird situation I was in.

Here was I at a Oiuja Board Session, at a friend’s house, very kindly, trying to give people reassuring answers about their dead relatives only to find that my dearly beloved wife was being unfaithful and having secret conversations with another man behind my back. It was totally weird.

So how was I going to answer her question? Was I going to say yes, or was I going to say no, and I suddenly realized that the answer was obvious. I would have to say yes, and then I would be able to keep the conversation going and then I might find out even more about her secret discussion with Vic, and pushed the glass slowly and enigmatically away from me across the table towards Jill and the "YES" card, expecting to see her looking highly amused as a result, but was surprised to see that she wasn’t, but was looking rather worried, instead.

Why was that? I didn't know, but assumed it was of no importance as she quickly recovered herself, and with another merry little laugh, almost as merry as the first, said.

   'Is Vic going to Canada?'.

   “Is Vic going to Canada?”, I repeated to myself, in even more astonishment. What did Canada have to do with anything? Why would Vic want to emigrate to Canada? Did he know somebody there? Not as far as I knew. Did he like Canada? He'd never mentioned it, so he couldn’t. So why would he want to go there? He wouldn’t.

   So how was I going to answer this question? And, to my great relief, I suddenly remembered the obvious conclusion I’d come to about the first question. How could I have forgotten? Vic must be thinking about emigrating to Canada, or Jill wouldn't be bothering to ask a question about it, which meant that I’d now discovered two fascinating secrets about her discussion with him, and that, if I were to keep the conversation going, I might learn even more and once again, pushed the glass slowly and enigmatically away from me across the table towards her and the "YES" card, expecting to see her looking highly amused, once again, but was surprised once again to see that she wasn’t but was looking even more worried. Why was that? She'd been amused enough when she’d started, so why wasn’t she amused now? I didn’t know. It was most confusing, and then, just when I was looking forward to finding out even more about her secret discussions with Vic, something really irritating happened.

Vic turned towards her, and whispered in her ear, loud enough for everybody to hear,

   'Stop asking questions!', which I couldn’t believe. Why was he poking his five eggs in? What did her asking the Ouija Board questions have to do with him? Nothing, so he could keep his nose out of it, and I fervently hoped that she would ignore him, and was relieved to see that she did, as with another merry little laugh she said,

   'Is Vic going to get married?', and I was totally stunned.

   "Is Vic going to get married?” I repeated to myself in total confusion. What did Vic’s getting married have to do with anything? One minute we were talking about emigrating and the next we were talking about marriage. What was the connection? I had no idea, but then, the penny suddenly dropped and I understood everything. I’d seen it all before. It was a wind-up of mega proportions.

   Jill had a nasty habit of taking the Mickey out of the Vic at the best of times, but this had been the worst. It had followed his making an unfortunate remark about one of his female colleagues at work: Marianne, which had cut Jill to the quick. She saw Vic as her besotted, adoring, doting slave, who’d been professing undying love to her for twenty years, and who’d unsuccessfully begged her to marry him the year before she’d met me, and who had eyes only for her, and for whom no other woman existed and so, for him to have mentioned another woman by name in her presence, had been the ultimate treachery, in her eyes, and she’d been down on him like a ton of bricks and derided him mercilessly in front of her cousin Brenda and me, about his wanting to marry Marianne, ignoring all his plaintive protests to the contrary, and reduced him to a squirming, writhing heap of embarrassment, and now, she was going to do it again, in public, and so I would have no difficulty answering her questions now, because I knew where she was coming from, and so having worked out the answer to this question so quickly, I thought I would increase the tension by pushing the glass back across the table quickly too, and was amused to see the look on her face, as with all the fingers and arms attached, it shot back across the table towards her like a rocket and came to a sudden halt in front of her.

She jumped back in fright and stared at the glass, in total fascination, as if it was a living thing, as you might have expected, and then, once she’d got over the shock, said, with another merry little laugh,

   'Is Vic going to marry somebody older than him?' the significance of which I understood immediately. This was a set-up. She was older than him, and Marianne was younger, and so, if I were to say no to this question, it would rule her out and Marianne in, but I realized immediately that I had a problem with saying no.

The “NO” card was on my side of the table, which meant that I had to make the glass move towards me. How could I do that? I couldn’t pull it because I couldn’t get any purchase. My finger was just resting on the edge, and suddenly realized that the answer was simple. All I had to do was jam it to stop it going anywhere else until eventually it did start moving in my direction, as I did, and watched it move slowly and falteringly towards me to stop at the “NO” card in front of me, and looked up at Jill expecting once again to see her looking highly amused, only to see to my surprise once again, that she was looking even more worried. Why was that? What was wrong with her? I was helping her to do what she wanted, wasn’t I? So, why wasn’t she looking happy about it? I had no idea, but guessed that she would start looking happy soon, and waited for her to recover from her current fit of anxiety and ask her next question, but was surprised to see how long it took her, and then was even more surprised to see that things got worse instead of better.

She tried once again, to laugh merrily as she asked her next question, but her laugh fell flat and sounded hollow as she said,

   'Is Vic going to get married in Canada?', which I didn’t understand at all.

For a laugh to fall flat and sound hollow meant that it had to be false, but Jill wasn’t capable of doing anything false, because she was religious and devout and a paragon of virtue. At least I'd always thought she was, but now, I wasn’t so sure, which came as a bit of a shock, and then I got an even bigger one.

   Instead of her becoming more and more amused as the wind-up continued she became more and more upset, and started to sound quite desperate as she fired questions at me so fast that I found it hard to keep up with her, and wondered if there was some sort of duel going on between us, to see who could last the longest, as she asked me how many children Vic would have, and what sex they would be, and finally what the name of his wife would be requiring my having to spell out M-A-R-I-A-N-N-E with some difficulty, pushing the glass from letter to letter in the right order, when to my astonishment she suddenly lost her voice and ground to a halt in a state of panic on the edge of tears looking a complete wreck, as did Vic, whose head had dropped further and further in mortification as Jill’s distress had deepened, with their both sweating profusely and looking like victims of a virulent fever leaving me to wonder what on earth was going on.

   What did it all mean? I didn't know. It was a complete mystery. There were only two things I could understand. One was that Jill seemed to be a lot more interested in Vic, than she made out, which came as no surprise, and the second that her laugh couldn't be trusted, which came as a great surprise, in the light of how often she made use of it, but what I couldn’t understand at all was, if she was so interested in him, why was she still living with me? Why hadn't she left me and gone off with him?

   Was it because she loved me more? I would have liked to have thought so but it wasn’t very likely because she didn't seem to love me at all. So what could it be? And then the truth suddenly hit me like a thunderbolt. The answer was obvious.

   Jill suffered from the same problem as me.

I didn’t want the breakdown of my marriage to be my fault and she didn’t want the breakdown of her marriage to be hers. She wanted the fault to be mine.

I didn’t want to be the guilty party in the breakdown or my marriage and she didn’t want to be the guilty party in the breakdown of hers. She wanted the guilty party in the breakdown of  her marriage to be me.

I didn’t want to be condemned for infidelity in the breakdown of my marriage, and she didn’t want to be condemned for infidelity in the breakdown of her marriage, either. She wanted the person to be condemned for infidelity in the breakdown of her marriage to be me.

Then she would be able to leave me and go off with Vic without condemnation.

   So how was I going to solve this problem?

How was I going to create the impression that the breakdown in my marriage was my fault?

How was I going to create the impression that I was the guilty party?

How was I going to become the person to be condemned for infidelity?

There was only one thing I could do. I would have to pretend to be unfaithful with another woman behind my wife’s back, and to my great surprise, only two weeks later, the perfect opportunity for me to put my newfound plan into action arose.
 
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #294 on: February 07, 2011, 07:00 PM »
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^ Silly sod must have been very naive to think Jill and Vic were 'keeping each other company' while he went sailing...  lol  Plus, she must have been a bit of a vixen on the side...
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #295 on: February 07, 2011, 07:02 PM »
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Poor George  hug  Poor poor George  hug  Then George turns into a scallywag .... not so poor George ...  lol
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #296 on: February 07, 2011, 09:22 PM »
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^ Silly sod must have been very naive to think Jill and Vic were 'keeping each other company' while he went sailing...  lol 

Ay ...  this is a bit ‘ilarious  !!!

What about: “How was I going to find out if Jill was romantically interested in Vic or not and realized that there was only one thing I could do. I would have to leave her on her own with him as much as possible, in the hope that if she was romantically interested in him, then, in the fullness of time her interest in him would blossom to the point where she would be happy to tell me about it and leave, ..”

That didn’t work out too badly did it ??

Quote
Plus, she must have been a bit of a vixen on the side...

Yeah ..  but ...  you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet ...   !!!!
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #297 on: February 07, 2011, 09:24 PM »
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But, George if she had vixen tendencies, how come you didn't see them earlier?  Were you blinded by love?  Were you blinded by lust?  Oh Geoooooooooooooooooorge .... !!
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #298 on: February 07, 2011, 09:31 PM »
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Poor George  hug  Poor poor George  hug 

Yeah ..  poor George  ..  it’s not nice being lied to ...  especially when it’s for no good reason  !!!!!!

Why didn’t she tell me the truth ???

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Then George turns into a scallywag .... not so poor George ...  lol

Ay ...  excuse me ... you did notice the bit that said  ...

“There was only one thing I could do. I would have to pretend to be unfaithful with another woman behind my wife’s back,..” 
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Re: Elizabeth Gwen 27.4.70 by George Parker « Reply #299 on: February 07, 2011, 09:34 PM »
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Yeah ..  poor George  ..  it’s not nice being lied to ...  especially when it’s for no good reason  !!!!!!

Why didn’t she tell me the truth ???



Well, which truth are we talking about here?
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