“So True, how long have you had boxing as a hobby?” I think everyone turned and looked at the woman, wondering what she was talking about. “Oh, I heard in the office today that Trudy laid some bloke out in the Starlight on Friday evening; took him out with one punch so the story goes. Come-on True spill the beans, what happened?”
The question was answered by what I believe could be called a pregnant pause. Trudy’s mouth was opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but she was looking around at everyone but me, almost begging someone to say something so that she didn’t have to reply.
“So Kevin how’d your round go yesterday; did you get as wet as we did?” One of the fellows suddenly asked me, in a clumsy attempt to change the subject. It was his wife who asked the question and she was suddenly looking as embarrassed as Trudy was.
I can’t help it if I’m a gentleman by nature, so as obviously Trudy didn’t wish to reply, I fell into conversation with the guy about the previous morning’s downpour on the golf course. He used a different course, but we tee’d off around the same time most Sunday mornings.
The short trip home in the car from the pub was made in absolute silence. Cassie soon picked up on the kind of atmosphere that you could cut with a knife that was prevailing in the car; so she remained silent as well and promptly disappeared to her room almost the instant we entered the house.
“So?” I asked, as soon as we were alone.
“So what?” Trudy replied defensively.
“Trudy, what the hell has been going on? I knew something was wrong when you came home early last Friday. First you weren’t going, then you were and then your back here before the clubs even had a chance to get going. Now Gloria says you thumped some bloke at the club. Now please explain?”
Trudy led the way into the kitchen and sat at the table. I took this as an invite to take a seat opposite her.
“Kevin, I did some things that were incredibly naive and they came back and bit me.” She finally said after staring at the table for some considerable time.
“Oh my god what’s she about to confess?” I asked myself. “Oh shit after all the shouting I’ve done in the past about cheating partners; am I now going to have to put my foot where my mouth has been so many times.” Were the thoughts racing through my brain.
You know it’s really surprising how fast the brain can work through all the different scenarios. There was I picturing Trudy and I divorced, and me picking up a very unhappy Cassie to take her out. Then just as quickly the picture was reversed, I was at home with Cassie and Trudy and some real flash looking bloke was picking my Trudy up to take her out somewhere. What’s more Cassie even looked pleased to see the guy.
To be perfectly honest even after my suspicions I was shitting myself, not really wanting to hear what Trudy was about to say. Her word could well mean that the comfortable happy life I’d got so used to living could well be on it’s way down the drain.
“About a year or so ago I started getting, very flattering emails at the office.” Suddenly I realised that Trudy was talking again. “They were nothing new, you told me yourself that I was good looking and to be honest a lot of the lads send me slightly suggestive emails and little notes. They’re just a little fun and serve to break up the monotony of the job.
“However these specific emails were slightly different to the joke ones from the lads or yourself. For a start I had no idea who they were from, the address was at hotmail so they could have come from anybody, even you. You know, for a while I did think they might have been from you because they were so… I don’t know, affectionate!”
“Anyway like a complete idiot, I replied to one of them asking who he was. But he wouldn’t say. He just sent more complimenting me on my appearance and dress on any particular day. I just briefly wrote back thanking him for the compliment, actually that’s when I thought they were from you; he used the same kind of language you use when you compliment me.”
“I’ve never sent you emails under a fictitious name Trudy, what name did he use?”
“Your greatest admirer in the world!”
“Jesus that’s a bleeding mouthful.”
“And the same phrase that you used on that great big valentines card you sent to my office last year when you were away. You remember, the one accompanied by all those roses?”
“Oh bugger yeah.”
“Well it seems my secret admirer must have seen that card in the office somewhere, but the point was nearly everybody knew about it; the girls were shocked at the extravagance. Eventually I realised that it wasn’t you messing about, but then I had this bee in my bonnet about finding out who he was. So I kept replying to his emails figuring that eventually he’d slip-up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about these emails?”
“Oh yeah and how would I have done that? Hi darling I’ve been writing to this bloke who I thought was you messing around and it turns out that it isn’t. Especially after what was said in some of them.”
I suppose it’s only fair at this time for me to admit to the reader, that for years I had been in the habit of sending Trudy suggestive emails at work; especially when I was away on company business. And I suppose I’d better add that when I say suggestive I mean really suggestive, spelling out in detail what was going to happen when I returned, ‘nough said!
“Oh, what was that?”
“Please don’t ask, just remember that I thought it was you messing around again.”
“Oh, that bad?”
“And the rest! Until I realised that it wasn’t you that is; I can promise you I’ve been very chaste since I realised that. I just wanted to know who he was.”
“Do you know now?”
“Yeah, I practiced my left hook on him Friday night.”
“I thought they said you gave him an uppercut.”
“Is there a difference, look I just punched the bugger as hard as I could… hey hang on a minute, what the hell do you know about Friday night?”
“Mark Willoughby and I went to school together Trudy. He called me this morning.”
“Ah, so you know it all anyway.”
“No, I don’t know what the connection is between those emails and what happened on Friday night. Except that you’re getting John Ryan fired.”
“Well as I said the emails have been going on for a year. He did get pretty suggestive on occasions, but I tried to ignore those bits after I worked out that you weren’t sending them. I really wanted to know who the sender was and how he knew so much about me, and us really; it was his knowledge of our private time together etc. that made me believe that it was you in the first place. But then I did something even more stupid.”
Oh no what was Trudy going to admit to now, I thought. Well to be honest some rather suggestive emails circulated in my own office on occasions, I’d have to be a complete hypocrite not to over look the ones Trudy had admitted she sent. I also thought that I could understand her curiosity about who had sent them; I’d seen the same scenario before. But I know that it was usually the company wolves that played that little game.