All Denham Forrest and The Wanderer stories are copyright and must not be posted elsewhere on the internet or distributed in printed form without the written permission of TWT and/or the author.
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“Something really weird happened today Kevin.” Trudy my wife of eighteen years said to me as we were eating dinner one evening.
“What was it mum?” Cassie, our thirteen-year-old daughter asked, before I had time to react myself.
I’d stopped eating and was sitting there looking at Trudy with an expression of concerned interest on my face.
“Some young man took my picture as we came out of the restaurant at lunch time today!” Trudy informed us.
“Did he? I suppose you can’t blame the bugger, you’re a very good looking woman and you dress very… er.” I had to think of the correct word because Cassie was sitting there with us. “Smartly when you go to the office; even more so in the last few months.” I replied nonchalantly and went back to eating my meal.
“Well I like to look my best at the office. But don’t you think it odd that he would just take my picture in the street like that?”
“Not especially Trudy. Think about it, the bloke was probably a paparazzi or something and he thought that a woman as good looking as you, strolling around during the day dressed up like you always are… Well then, you must be a celebrity or something.” I suggested.
“Oh, don’t be silly.”
“Trudy, you’ve got an almost perfect figure for a woman your age, your dress and make-up are always immaculate; of course people are going to think you’re someone special. We do, don’t we Cass?”
“Sure do mum, you’re the best looking mum at our school. All my friends are jealous of me for having such a beautiful mother.” Cassie chimed in.
“Oh now, you’re both flattering me.” Trudy said turning a little pink in the face with embarrassment.
“Nonsense Trudy, you’re one very desirable looking lady. I’ll bet all the men in your office drool over you all day. Especially that John Ryan geezer.”
“John Ryan, why should you single him out all of a sudden?” Trudy asked, having turned – what I considered – beetroot red at the sound of Ryan’s name; but probably only slightly pinker that she had been.
“Oh come on Trudy, everybody in town knows about that bugger.” I took a quick glance in Cassie’s direction, I hadn’t meant to call him a bugger in her presence; but sometimes emotion gets the better of you. “Crikey the blokes reputation goes before him.”
“What reputation?”
“Trudy, Ryan’s a ladies man, a wolf! You know, the b… guy’s got more notches on his belt than any other bloke in town.”
“He has; how would you know? You’ve never even met the man.”
“Don’t have to have met the bu… man personally to know of his reputation. Besides, the little snot went to the same school as I did, different year group though. He’s had a whole string of conquests and he ain’t too shy about bragging about them down the pub either. You know, if I didn’t trust you so implicitly I’d be worried about you working in the same company as him.”
Trudy suddenly went unaccustomedly quite. I really believe that if Cassie hadn’t left the TV on in the lounge we would have been able to hear the cogs churning around in Trudy’s brain.
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In a way I’d known about John Ryan’s reputation for years, and to be perfectly frank with you I had had some reservations when Trudy went to work for the same company that he worked in, five years previous. But as they supposedly worked in completely different departments, I’d relaxed a little after a while.
Besides Trudy was my wife and she loved me, didn’t she, she was telling me so all the time; so what the hell did I have to worry about?
But then again, when your wife is as attractive as Trudy there’s always the chance that some handsome bugger might turn her head. And to be totally honest I was pushing forty and although I do keep myself fit, I was showing that I was well past my sell-by date no matter what tricks I tried to pull to turn back the clock.
I thought I’d played a pretty good game actually. I anonymously and unexpectedly sent Trudy flowers at her office, on a random but regular basis. Sent her suggestive joke emails and cards — supposedly — anonymously arranging clandestine meetings for dinner — mind I believe she always knew they were from me, because I’d have to have already booked the babysitter. But you get the general idea; I played the silly-bugger loving husband like a teenage kid, so that Trudy — or anyone else for that matter – would think that I wasn’t getting as old as I really felt.
I won’t go into our sex life here but take it from me it was as regular and energetic as it had ever been; of that I can assure you.
But a few weeks before this particular evening an old school friend of mine – who I hadn’t heard from in donkey’s years – but I was to discover also worked for the same company as Trudy, called me one day out of the blue at my office. I never have discovered how Mark knew where I worked; hearsay I suppose.
“How you going Kevin mate, its Mark, Mark Willoughby, long time no see!”
“Jesus Mark, where the hell did you spring from? I haven’t seen you in…”
“More years that we both care to remember Kevin. But I’ve seen you a few times when you pick Trudy up from the office.”
“What, you work at Sangster’s with Trudy?”
“Not exactly Kevin, I’m in a different department completely, personnel; but I’ve seen you down in the car park from my office window.”
“Ah, nothing much to do but ogle to women, I suppose?”
“You could say that, we’ve got some real lookers on the payroll at present. The thing is Kevin… your wife’s one of them.”
“I’m not sure that I like the way you say that, Mark!”
“Calm down Kevin, don’t go getting excited, it might be nothing. But you being an old mate and all, I just thought I should tip you the wink. Can you meet me at lunchtime in the Feathers?”
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“What’s yours?” Mark asked as I joined him at the bar.
“Best please. Now what’s this all about, Mark?” I demanded, probably a little harshly.
“Calm down Kevin, it might be nothing at all. It’s just that… Shit look, if I don’t say something and… Well, I’d bloody-well never forgive myself to start with. Look let’s go find a quiet spot out in the garden where no one can overhear us.” Mark said looking around as if he was expecting somebody to be watching us.
Out in the sun, I followed Mark to a table well clear of any other that were in use.
“Look Kevin, for all I know she could well tell the bugger where to go, but I’ve watched the prick for years and I know his M.O. What’s more he’s very good at what he does.”
“Mark who the fuck are you talking about here and what in effing hell does he do?”
“John Ryan, have you ever come across the bugger?”
“Yeah, oh of course. Randy Ryan from school.”