Cliche Ch. 04

I googled the restaurant, seeing it was just that. It didn't have accommodation. My spirits lifted slightly. Maybe this wasn't as bad as I thought. The memory of that kiss belied that hope though. I started to feel a little conspicuous sitting on the side of this quiet road. I drove back a few minutes and parked in a less conspicuous spot and watched the GPS tracking software.

I already had enough information to be almost certain my marriage was over. Even if he drove her home, gave her a peck on the cheek and left, she'd already crossed our mutually agreed boundary for acceptable behaviour.

An hour and a half after they arrived at the restaurant, the software beeped to indicate movement. I watched the dot on the screen moving toward me. I closed the laptop and watched until Julie's car passed my hiding spot. I followed, not being as worried about keeping them in sight as before. I now knew the tracker was accurate enough to find them whatever happened. Waiting at some lights on the edge of town, I turned the computer on and noticed her car was heading straight back home. I arrived at my previous parking spot, just along from the house, at one-thirty, within a minute of Julie and partner. I was very aware that they'd have the house to themselves for another two and a half hours.

I switched applications and once again pulled up the camera footage. I picked the lounge view first as it was the only place I had evidence of them being. There they were, again, passionately kissing, but this time on the couch. I forced myself to watch. If I interrupted now, they could claim that was as far as they'd ever been, and some people may be bemused why I went ballistic. They continued kissing for what seemed like ages. It had certainly been a long time since I'd ever been on the receiving end of anything like that. That pissed me off as much as anything. I suppose that's what people mean when they say, if you give yourself to a lover, someone else is robbed. Rob, that was the guy's name. I'd met him at a few of Julie's work functions. He was a mechanic that rose through the ranks. That explained why he knew what was wrong with Julie's car. If he'd only fixed it for her, I would still be a clueless schmuck.

They reached the point when my new personal boundary was crossed. I watched her sit upright, him quickly strip then lift her dress above her hips and remove her panties. I saw his head dive into her groin. I saw her hips lunge upwards and the look of rapture on her face. I saw her mouth open and knew by its shape, even without the sounds coming through my laptop speakers, she was moaning. Once upon a time it was a look I'd seen often on her face. I saw red.

Now may be a good time to tell you about how I react in a crisis. I'm one of those fortunate people that don't panic, but get coldly, clinically logical. Hence, I may have been enraged right then but I was nowhere near out of control. Not bad as I was witnessing the end of my marriage and the complete destruction of my family. Without a doubt, the two things I held most dear in my life. I've also never been a big planner, preferring to trust my instincts to get me through a crisis with the right decisions.

I made no attempt to enter the house stealthily. In hindsight, my entrance was missed because she had her eyes closed and was moaning, he had a pair of legs clamped over his ears.

With no particular plan in mind, except to stop the offence I was witnessing, I simply strode to the couch and grabbed a handful of his hair. On debriefing myself later, I think the intense pain I caused him, made him throw himself backwards. He certainly did a 180-degree flip and landed hard on his ass with his erection pointing proudly at the ceiling. He then span on the spot, like a crab, so he ended up still on his ass but now with his feet facing me.

This is where the cold clinical aspect of my rage worked for me. It took me less than a second to decide against stomping on his face. I knew this was all being recorded, and I might need some of the footage later. In less than a second, I had a plan. I would use the camera. I glanced briefly at the look of horror just now suffusing Julie's face. I took one step between Rob's legs and held my hand out towards him.

"I'm sorry, mate. I didn't mean to hurt you," I said loudly for the recording.

I felt the satisfying crunch of at least one testicle being totally flattened under a heavy work boot. I watched the colour drain from his face before the scream started. He clutched his groin and started thrashing around madly. I'm not a sadist, but those screams were music to my ears. Ignoring Julie, I went outside where it was quieter and called an ambulance. When I returned, Julie was trying to comfort a still screaming Rob. I waited patiently, rehearsing my statement.

The ambulance arrived within ten-minutes. One officer assessed the damage and applied Penthrane. The other looked at the situation as a whole. Let's see, one woman with messed up clothes and makeup; one naked man with crushed scrotum; one man calmly sitting back. You didn't have to be as smart as most ambulance officers usually are to come up with a pretty accurate conclusion for what happened. He went outside, I'm pretty sure to call the police.

That Penthrane must have been good shit because Rob was down to moaning when they loaded him up and took him away. Julie went to go with him, but I restrained her with a firm grip on her arm. When the ambulance turned the corner out of sight, Julie looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time, groaned, then ran off to the master bedroom. I let her go this time. I put the kettle on, it's always best to treat the police with courtesy and respect.

They arrived shortly afterward. I gave them a quick rundown. I'd come home unexpectedly after having vague suspicions my wife was cheating on me. I'd walked in on him performing cunnilingus on her and reacted instinctively by separating them. Filled with remorse for potentially hurting him, I'd offered a helping hand and accidentally stood on his balls. I could see they weren't convinced. Coppers aren't dumb either. They separated to take Julie's and my separate, more formal, statements.

When the other guy came back downstairs, he compared notes with the guy that had spoken to me. Then they both came over.

"Mr. Brown, your statement roughly aligns with your wife's, but I must say we don't believe you. Mr. Brown, I'm arresting you for..."

"Wait!"

The force of my voice stopped them dead in their tracks.

"I have the whole incident on a recording if that helps."

I was hoping not to have to reveal the footage, but I couldn't afford to be in a legally compromising position for the battle to come. I pulled some books off a shelf to reveal the camera. They followed me out to the car while I retrieved my laptop, then waited while I played back the action. They watched the critical scene three times and clearly saw that my statement was plausible. They seized the laptop, warned me that this wasn't over and left.

Knowing the recorder in the ceiling was the only reliable evidence I had, I unhooked it and put it in my car. I then returned to sit in the kitchen and looked at various options for my future. Yes, I said my future. 'We', didn't have one.

I heard the bedroom door open and the floorboards creak as Julie crept out of hiding. I waited with my back to her. I think she stopped when she caught sight of me. After a long moment she spoke in a strange, hoarse voice.

"I'm sorry, Dave..."

"Don't say anything more, Julie. Just do me the courtesy of answering one question. Do you want to stay married to me and commit to total loyalty to me again?"

"Yes, of course, Dave."

"In that case. you haven't had long enough to talk, and I haven't had long enough to listen. I'm leaving to stay in a motel for as long as it takes for you to decide what to tell me. I desperately want you to say something that I can seize and believe so we can get through this. I will only give you one chance to explain it. I'll come here every night after work to see the kids. I'll stay for dinner and leave after they go to bed. When you're ready, let me know and we'll talk."

I said all this without once looking her way. I stood and brushed past her to go and pack. I glanced at her as I was passing. Fuck, I'd seen two-day old corpses that looked better than she did. She was pale as a ghost, with her make-up a real mess. She had a haggard look and seemed to have shrunk even shorter. I realised that was because her shoulders were stooped as if a great weight was being supported by them.

I went and packed a few things, then, without a further word, left and checked into the closest motel. As promised, I returned at 5:00 p.m. the next day. There was initially no sign of anyone. Then I found the kids doing their homework and Julie on our bed, facing the wall. I talked to the kids until six, when it was obvious that Julie was going to do nothing about dinner. I took them out for some not too unhealthy take-out. This was where my lack of planning first started to bite. They asked what was wrong with their mum. I didn't know what to say. I said some vague things which they didn't buy, then just stalled them. They knew that and were anxious. On the way home, I debated with myself how much to tell them. I respect honesty above all other characteristics so decided to tell them the truth. To be fair, I decided to wait until Julie could be present.

At home, I told the lads to wait while I went to the master bedroom. When I called her name, Julie began to roll over but then stopped and remained facing the wall.

"Julie, the boys have asked me what's wrong with you and I intend telling them the truth. If you want to be involved in the discussion, come out and join us."

I waited five minutes and when Julie hadn't appeared, went back to the bedroom. She hadn't moved so I returned to the kitchen. As diplomatically as I could I explained what was going on to Pete and Mick. I told the truth as I saw it and gave a probable glimpse of the future. Neither said anything but I could see they took it hard. I told them that I would still look after them as much as they needed but they may have to step up and take more responsibility around the house. They were both empathetic little buggers and each gave me a huge hug. I guess I wasn't hiding my hurt as much as I thought. I saw them off to bed with a promise to see them again the following day. Julie still hadn't appeared.

I slept badly that night in my lonely motel room. I stared into the darkness, reviewing my actions to date and realised there was one possible exposure. Even if I got away with crushing lover boy's balls as an accident, he could still sue me. With a typical decisiveness I came up with a plan to minimise that damage.

I left work an hour early the next day, bought a bag of grapes and went to the hospital. The receptionist directed me to Rob's room. He was dozing when I entered. That changed very quickly when he sensed a presence and opened his eyes. I saw terror flit across his face. He tried to sit up but groaned from the pain and gave up. I got right in his face. I know in some cultures, when you are wronged, you reach for a lawyer. Something I appreciated about Australian men, so much so that I emulated it, is they prefer to cut out the middle-man. They reach for the axe handle. Much more satisfying.

"You, my friend, have a choice. You can accept what happened to you as just and proper punishment for fucking my wife, or you can get all legal about it. If you take the second option, then we'll be meeting again in a very dark alley one night. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He nodded.

"Good. I hope we don't have to meet again. If we do, I'll be the one behind you with the axe handle."

As I was walking down the corridor, I saw a familiar lady with two, early teen children. After I passed her, I heard her call, "Excuse me, my husband works with your wife, doesn't he?"

Not wanting to be rude, I stopped and turned. I recognised her now from the dealership company functions.

"Yes, madam, Julie works with your Rob."

"Can I ask what you're doing here. I saw you walk out of my husband's room."

I hadn't decided whether to tell Rob's wife or not. Unusual for me, I dithered. She filled the silence.

"Boys, go into your father's room. I'll be there in a minute or two."

We both waited until they disappeared.

I remained silent, waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

"The last time he ended up in hospital was when another man caught him with his wife."

Something about my facial expression must have given the game away.

"Son of a bitch! I'm right, aren't I? You caught him with Julie, didn't you? Then you crushed his balls to uselessness."

All I could do was nod to this obviously intelligent and perceptive woman.

"Good, that will save me cutting them off. Can I get some details please?"

As I gave her a quick, official rundown on events of the previous day, she sidled down the corridor so she could see her children through the window of the ward. I saw Rob looking at us shaking his head in a silent, but emphatic, NO!

When I told her that I had it on video, she scribbled her email address on a scrap of paper that she dug out of her handbag and made me promise to send it. She was confused on one point. After she'd caught him out the first time he cheated, she hid a GPS tracker in his car and monitored it regularly. She nodded when I suggested that he'd found it and took a cab to and from work, for his rendezvous with Julie. That fit all the facts. She also checked their expenditure with a fine-toothed comb. We guessed that as she was a stay-at-home mum, my house was the meeting point as neither of the conspirators wanted motel bills to explain. After wishing each other luck, we parted. I suspected Rob's bad day was going to get way worse.

After all that excitement, I hurried back to the house I used to live in. As I was getting out of my car, Karen was getting out of hers, next door. She came over and asked if there was anything new. I gave her a quick rundown on events. She was very upset. She knew what I was going through. After pledging to lend an ear whenever I wanted to talk, we parted, and I continued toward the house.

Julie looked bedraggled in her dressing gown. She disappeared into the bedroom as soon as I walked in the door. The kids were trawling through the pantry in search of snacks and not having much luck. I packed them up and took them out again. We grabbed some food for Julie as well. When I quizzed them, they admitted that their mother hadn't uttered a word all day. When she hadn't made their school lunches, they'd grabbed what they could from the pantry.

The boys going hungry was an intolerable situation. I took the kids and checked out of my motel and moved back into my own house, albeit the spare bedroom. We again went out and visited a late-night store to stock up on food. I rang my work the next day and said I'd be late. I made the lads a healthy breakfast and filled their lunch boxes before shovelling them out the door to the bus stop. In response to a telephone message from her work, I rang her company and called in sick for Julie. At work I explained my need for reduced hours to my boss.

Thus, the pattern for the next two weeks was set. Me getting the boys off in the morning, meeting them at the end of their day, shopping, and cooking. They helped out with household chores.

I watched Julie slowly recover. After a week she was dressing, putting on make-up and eating. We hardly spoke directly to each other. Before going to bed each night, I gave her an opportunity to start what I was almost sure was going to be our last conversation that was about us, but she never volunteered anything. Every two days or so I'd come home to find one friend of hers or another at the house. They always left shortly afterward, normally after giving me a condemning look. It pissed me off so much that I visited the police station and retrieved my laptop. I sent an email to everyone in our address book with a simple two sentences.

'Dear friends, Dave and Julie are having marital problems at the moment because Dave caught Julie cheating on him. If you don't believe it, then come and see Dave who has video evidence.'

The looks and indeed the visits dried up. I took no pleasure in my actions, but divorce polarises friendship groups. I didn't want to start the battle with everyone on her side just because she didn't have the strength or courage to tell them the truth. No one ever asked to see the video.

I kept my sanity by visiting Karen ever two days or so. She became a better friend than ever before. I don't think Julie liked that much. I went over there one Saturday and Karen and I watched Julie staring at Karen's house from the bedroom window the whole time I was there.

By the middle of the second week, Julie felt strong enough to return to work and the next day I arrived at the house to find her cooking dinner. Still, she hadn't looked me in the eye once and avoided being alone with me. I was unaware if she'd been in contact with Rob. I'd sent a clip to Rob's wife and received a genuine reply of gratitude. She'd arranged for him to be served in hospital. They were still unclear whether his private parts would function ever again.

The other significant event in that fortnight was a visit to a lawyer. He told me the general go in divorces and after explaining our circumstances guessed that Julie would be granted custody, the house, alimony, child support etc. Pete was old enough to have a say which parent he wanted to reside with, but Mick wasn't. The lawyer explained that the courts always decided to keep the kids together and usually sided with the mother. I thought this was right and proper. In my view, the average mother was better at raising kids than the average father. Of course, there are exceptions. When it became obvious, I wasn't going to retain him, he graciously explained the process and where to go to get the forms and other paraphernalia. I already knew I had no legal recourse against their employer. Australian law just isn't like that. I could probably have got them fired but that would adversely affect me regarding child support and alimony.

Ironically, it was a Wednesday when Julie instigated the conversation. I was in bed with the light off when she knocked quietly on the door and came in. I knew she was eating properly but not with the rest of us. Despite this, I was aware that she'd consumed the best part of a bottle of wine that evening. She left the light off and sat on the edge of the bed. Her face was in shadow as the only light was coming from the hall. I sat up.

"Do you love me, Dave?"

"Yes. I can't turn off a feeling I've experienced for seventeen years just like that."

"Were you serious when you said you desperately hoped I could present you with a reason that would convince you to stay?"

"Yes, Julie, that is still my fervent hope."

I let her sniff for a while to let her know she was in the driving seat. Eventually she continued, "I just can't, Dave. I love you but I just can't justify what I've done. I'm begging you to give me three months. I'll see a counsellor and maybe they can explain it to us together."

I thought about this for a long time.

"I'm sorry, Julie, I can't wait that long. Having things up in limbo for that length of time isn't fair on me or on the boys. You can't think of a reason for what you did because there isn't one. It's over, Julie."

Her reaction to my response surprised me. I think it was spurred by frustration and guilt. Julie always did have a problem accepting responsibility for her actions.

"You fucking sanctimonious prick. You never were going to listen to a word I said, were you? If you'd given one bloody inch, I was going to invite you into my bed and screw your arse off. It's been a while, hasn't it, dearest? No sex for Davey, while his wife has been having a ball."