Houseboat
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Ok?Chapter 15 free porn video
While all that was going on, John had a difficult job to do. It involved restoring some sense of unity in the workforce of the Dutch division, and changing working practices and structures to conform them to those of the company as a whole. It would take all his diplomacy, and a certain ruthlessness. He did not need trouble in his personal life, and he resolved to put it all out of his mind.
To that end he had ordered a new mobile phone to await him at the Dutch office, and then switched off his own after disabling voice mail and text messaging. He did not want his phone cluttered with weeks of messages. He did not check for voice mail before shutting his phone off.
Only head office, Tom and some other company colleagues would have access to him. He had also unplugged his home phone and switched off his answer machine before he left.
He had laid it on the line with Tom that only business would pass between them, nothing else. Tom realised how difficult John’s job would be, and agreed wholeheartedly. He did suspect there was another agenda in John’s rather extreme actions, but said nothing.
To everyone else at home, and to his parents as they toured abroad, John simply disappeared for four long weeks, and as far as he was concerned the rest of the world disappeared for him. He would look back on those four weeks as among the most difficult of his career, but in the end among of the most rewarding.
However, for all his efforts at escaping his personal problems, he found himself wondering daily what Carol was doing, and whether she had settled with that new man of hers.
It brought all the emotions cascading back at different times. Sometimes it was resentment; at others anger or resignation at losing her, but mainly loss and depression.
It usually came upon him as he lay in bed ready to sleep, but thankfully did not seem to keep him awake for long. In any case there were too many other worries, concerns and problems to be solved where he was, for him to be able to dwell for long on his domestic troubles.
He arrived back at Manchester Airport in the evening of Wednesday 25th July. It was dull and cloudy though warm enough. As he emerged from the baggage collection there was no one to meet him, at which he was not at all surprised, since he had told no one of his return, except one, his housekeeper. He got a taxi and within half an hour he was letting himself into his deserted house.
The rooms had clearly been aired, and when he examined the larder and kitchen, he blessed the fact he had asked his housekeeper to shop for him in return for extra pay.
He made himself some tea and sat in the kitchen, exhausted but happy to be home. He would take the next day off, and arrive back at work on Friday.
He realised also that he had not taken any holidays in the current year, and resolved to rectify that as soon as possible. Tom was in charge and a great success, he heard, so he had no need to return just yet. He resolved to clear it with Sir Maurice.
He busied himself making an evening meal of a cheese omelet with some peas and a baked potato, and then fired up his desktop computer to look for a suitable holiday. Where to go? And when?
He got three bottles of beer from the larder, and poured himself the first pint. He fancied touring Italy. He thought he would take a train to Northern Italy and hire a car, preferably a high powered open top sports car. Then he researched further and found that since he mainly wanted to take in cities, it was better to travel everywhere by train.
He worked out a timetable and hoped to take two weeks holiday. Feeling tired but successful, he pottered around tidying up, before sitting down for a Edradour whisky nightcap – oh, the delights of the single malt!
Again, as so often in the past, his thoughts again turned to Carol. He wondered at her actions. It seemed so out of character and contrary to everything she was trying to do for him. She had seemed so intent on winning him back as the one love of her life.
Suddenly she had taken up with a high school boyfriend so long after they had all left school. Had she been in touch with this man during their marriage? Was she planning to supplant Liam with Ronson before John re-appeared? That seemed too cold-blooded and out of character. He dismissed the idea.
He began to wonder if he had ever really known her at all. He knew he had been besotted with her from the moment they had met at a party. He had pursued her single-mindedly, but he recalled with a grin that she did not run away too fast or for long, seeming to be more than ready to be caught by him and to commit wholeheartedly.
She was so loving, so warm, so passionate. He now wondered if his memory served him correctly. He knew he was in no doubt then.
Then there was her reaction to his supposed cheating, and her explanation of it and of her refusal to talk to him. Did that really ring true? Was it the reaction of someone who really loved him so desperately – to turn away from him so completely?
No, he had misread their life together, and he had misread her concern to put things right. He had always been her second choice and now a first choice had arrived. Best keep out of her way from now on.
Then with a start he wondered if he had misunderstood the whole thing at the midsummer party. Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps there was another explanation.
It all seemed so unbelievably strange, so was there another way of looking at it?
Why had he flown off the handle and gone off to Holland without patiently asking her to explain? He could have left his mobile on and texted her. Wasn’t the whole mess caused by her not getting an explanation from him, and now hadn’t he done the same thing to her?
He resolved he would get in touch with her soon and find out the truth, though he feared the response. Even so, better to know.
He sighed and felt the loss of her, all the more painful since it came immediately after he decided to forgive and try again with her, knowing that he had loved her deep down all along.
In that frame of mind, he took his whisky and a book and went to bed. He did not read the book, or even finish the whisky before sleep took him.
He spent the Thursday morning plugging in his land line phone, getting his mobile phone reconnected and dealing with the mountain of post which the housekeeper had thoughtfully piled on his hall table.
He found there was a voicemail message from Carol, but she had rung off without saying anything. His spirits dropped. Perhaps she wanted to confess her new relationship and say goodbye. Perhaps to explain...
He stopped himself. He would phone her as soon as he had worked through his post.
He filed all the adverts in the bin, dealt with all the business letters, sending emails to some and filing others. After an hour’s work he was left with a collection of letters which seemed personal.
There was a stack of postcards and letters from his mother, and he set himself to read them in date order, after getting himself a coffee and some chocolate digestives. She was an entertaining writer and he enjoyed the task greatly. It left two other letters. One was from his brother announcing that his company had posted him back to Britain, and giving his new address in London. That left one.
He picked up it up. It was in a female hand he did not know, and the postmark was from the day before he returned. It must have arrived the same morning he arrived. The postmark was London, so he opened it. He looked at the end and found it was from Tracy.
He immediately felt more cheerful. She was always upbeat and had such a positive attitude, and he would have set to reading it immediately, had his newly connected phone not rung.
It was Paula from Head Office.
“Hi, John,” she began. “Safely home again, then? Can you come in to see Sir Maurice ASAP? He’s out tomorrow, but Saturday?”
“Didn’t he get my report?” asked John, suddenly feeling weary.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “It’s not about that.”
“But you can’t tell me what it is about?”
“That’s right. One p.m. suit you?”
John knew there was in fact only one answer. “Yes, Paula, that’s fine.”
“He was very impressed,” she finished, and he could hear her smile. “See you Saturday.”
He sighed, wondering what the boss was up to now. He recovered Tracy’s letter and began to read.
Hi, Gorgeous!You’ll never guess where I’ve been sent on a temporary transfer. Your place! I go from being PA to the Sales Director down here, to PA to the Sales Director up there. Where you are! Isn’t that nice? It seems that our salesman at your end is doing two jobs, so he needs someone with experience. Well, you know how experienced I am! I can accommodate his every need!
John laughed out loud at the innuendo, and read on.
It’s for a Mr Forshaw.I’m begging for two things. One, what is he like? Two, can you put me up for a couple of months?
Looking forward to hearing all your latest news, O Great Manager! I’m sending this snail mail, because I hear you’re not reading your emails, naughty boy. Anyway I’m arriving Thursday 27th sometime in the afternoon. Is that ‘all right’? See, I’m being a good girl, I never said the two letter ‘word’.
Oodles of love and lust,
Your very own Tracy.
His spirits rose. Having Tracy around would be good for his morale and he could do with someone to make the house feel lived in. He fired up his laptop and sent off an email.
Hi, my very own TracyYes, you can stay with me, It’ll be good to have some company. I’ll be in all afternoon awaiting you.
Tom Forshaw is a very good friend of mine from way back. I’m sure you could cater for all sorts of his needs, but his wife Ann would not appreciate your efforts in some matters. We can go visit them over the weekend. They are a wonderful family with lovely children.
I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.
Much love
John.
He sent it off then realised she would be on her way and would not see it, so he sent a text telling her it was fine with him that she was coming to stay. Then he set about preparing for her arrival, the house first and then some intensive shopping. He did not understand why Tracy needed to come north now, and for two months? He was back, so what was the need? Then he phoned Tom at work.
“I hear the board were impressed with your Dutch trip,” Tom said. “You coming in tomorrow to tell me all about it?”
“In the morning,” he answered. “I’m meeting your new PA Sales this afternoon; she’s going to be staying with me. I don’t understand why she’s needed. What do you think?”
Tom sounded surprised, “You know her?”
“Tracy Rushton,” John told him. “A very good friend to me during the three years I was in London.”
“With benefits?”
“Definitely with benefits. She’s going to be sharing the house with me while she’s here.”
“Well John, like you, I’ve been out of circulation while I’ve been doing your job and trying to look after Colin, who’s struggling to do mine. Ann’s been quite worried about me.”
“So,” said John, “I’ll bring Tracy in tomorrow morning and can you clear it with Ann for me to bring her over to see you both in the evening?”
“Will do,” said Tom. “Tomorrow would be best, we’re going to see Ann’s mother at the weekend. Come to dinner, I’ll confirm that tonight. I’d like a few minutes with Mz Rushton tomorrow morning to assess her capabilities, and it will be good to see her in a more relaxed setting afterwards.”
“Careful Tom,” laughed John, “Ann might have something to say about assessing all her capabilities.”
“You know what I mean,” said Tom, with a snort. “The girl will be more or less running things; I’m afraid Colin Amstead really isn’t up to it.”
“Get in touch with Gerry Dickson,” John suggested. “He’ll give you her background. From what I hear, she’s efficient and resourceful.”
“Good idea, see you tomorrow.”
Tracy arrived mid-afternoon, left her car and ran to his arms where they lost themselves in a close embrace and a deep kiss.
“Missed this,” she said, as she surfaced.
“Me too,” was his reply, and they grinned at each other. John’s spirits rose and he felt happiness without a tinge of regret for the first time since he could remember.
They left her baggage in the car and he took her for a quick tour of the house before they returned to the kitchen, where he made her a mug of tea and toasted some crumpets.
“Lovely house,” she said, licking the butter from her lips, much to his arousal. “When are you going to furnish it?”
“Pardon?” he said, affecting an affront and failing.
“You know what I mean, it’s a bit spartan: a lot of empty rooms – needs some homely touches.”
“Well, if you’re here for a while, you could rectify that.”
“We could rectify that,” she corrected. “It’s your house, and your home.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I’d forgotten...” his voice trailed off.
“How good we are together?” she finished for him, “and talking of that, are you with anyone at the moment?”
“No,” The single word held a wealth of raw emotion which Tracy noticed.
“What about your ex? Find out anything about your divorce?”
He poured her another mugful of tea, and told her the story. Finishing with “and I don’t want to discuss it, all right?”
“Fine,” she shrugged, “It just seems very odd. Doesn’t compute. I’d want to know more.”
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