Consequencies

We arrived home and it was a tight lipped Alison that went upstairs to our bedroom and did not reappear that night. At one point, I took her up some sandwiches and coffee. I knocked on the door and she opened it and took the tray from me without comment. She had her phone to her ear as she took the tray and closed the door in my face.

I slept in Alistair's bed that night and for the next few nights as well. In the morning over breakfast, Alison informed Jane and me that she had reconsidered and decided to take a sabbatical from the play until Alistair was fully recovered. She also made it very clear that she was doing this under duress and that I was the one being held responsible.

Over the next few weeks Alison tried very hard to make things right between our children and her. I was allowed back in our bedroom and we even had sex a couple of times, but I felt her heart was not really in it. It felt like pity sex and the love we once shared was missing.

Within three weeks Alistair was back to normal and Alison informed us that she was going back to her role on stage in London the following week. She did make a few concessions and promised that she would be home every other night and for the first two weeks she was. The first time she failed to turn up, I phoned worried that something had happened as she had not contacted us. It was well after one in the morning and she was normally back by around twelve. Her phone was answered by Marcus Ward. He explained that Alison as in the shower and would ring me back which she duly did. I immediately asked why she was still in London and she came up with some lame excuse about feeling too tired to come home tonight. I asked her rather pointedly, "Why is he there?" She must have heard the anger in my voice as she tried to placate me by promising to be home tomorrow.

I had enough and said, "I notice you failed to answer my question, so I'LL ask you once more, WHY IS MARCUS IN YOUR ROOM AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT? DOES THAT MAKE MY QUESTION CLEAR ENOUGH OR DO I NEED TO SPELL IT OUT TO YOU?"

She replied, "He was just leaving, I'll talk to you tomorrow!" Then she hung up!

I started on the Whisky and when that was finished, the Vodka washed it done nicely. She failed to come home the following night and I called her once more and was forced to leave a message telling her not to bother coming home unless it was for good. I started hitting the bottle heavily. With hindsight it was clear that I was simply running away from confronting the problems with my marriage. It was easier to drown my problems than face up to them, my marriage may well be over.

Soon this habit grew and I was drinking a bottle of spirits every night after the kids had gone to bed. It didn't matter what it was, Gin, Whisky, Rum you name it I drank it.

Alison eventually returned home one night after the show and found me passed out in the chair, the empty bottle still clutched to my chest. She went ballistic and accused me of being totally irresponsible. What if something had happened, like a fire or something! I was still half drunk as I mumbled something in response to the effect that if she was at home more often, then the situation would not have arisen.

All hell broke loose after that and though I tried to mend the bridges, she was still livid when we went to bed. The following day was a Saturday, so no work for me at least. Alison spent some time with the kids before having to leave for London. She didn't say a word to me before she left.

I tried to make amends, by sending her flowers to her dressing room and calling her repeatedly on her phone, but never got any response. She failed to come home the following week, even on her day off. She did phone the kids on their mobiles every day, but made no effort to contact me. I started drinking more, one bottle was not enough to dull my loneliness. Apart from the kids and me, her mother naturally was the one to notice her absence and forced me to sit down and face the issue. I told her about our troubles and she told me she would try and talk some sense into her daughter.

Alison came home the next night and we had a long heart to heart at last. I don't know what her mother said to her, but she was in a far more conciliatory mood. She accepted that her present job was the root cause of our problems and told me that she had decided to quit. She would have to give them two week's notice and that she would email them that night. I challenged her about her relationship with Marcus Ward and she assured me that she had not had affair with him or anyone else. She was very convincing, after all, she was an actress and in any case. I wanted desperately to believe her. I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. She also got her digs in about my excessive drinking and I promised to curtail it and I did even though I refused to admit even to myself that I was overdoing it.

The make up sex was fantastic and the only thing I did notice was that she started to talk dirty to me while we were screwing. It was strange, while we always talked during our love making before, the difference was that now she was describing her fantasies to me and encouraging me to do the same. I asked her where this new twist came from and she told me that her flatmate and her had nothing much to do during the day, so they got into discussing their deepest hidden fantasies to each other. She asked me if I found this change to our love life disturbing and I told her that as long as they remained fantasies, then I had no issue with it. From then on we used introduced more and more wild themes into our sex life. One she was particularly fond of involved her being screwed while on stage in front of me and a host of other men! I got to enjoy it just as much as she did.

The next few years were once more settled and Alison picked up enough work locally to keep her busy. Pressure at my work was getting steadily more onerous. The trade was going through a hard spell, the recession was looming and one of the first effects was that companies held onto their fleets longer. This coupled with the high fuel costs meant that our customers were holding back on reinvesting so trying to sell in that market was stressful. My boss was not really interested in excuses, it was my job to sell product and I was told in no uncertain terms that if I couldn't cut it, he would get someone who could.

Once more, my drinking took control of my life. I used the excuse that it was due to the pressure at work. In an effort to close a deal with one of my customers, I took him out to a nice restaurant and entertained him, perhaps too well. We were both as pissed as farts and were at the stage where the dirty jokes were being told and I had just suggested that we move on to a local lap dancing club. We were both very drunk and unfortunately unknown to either of us, his wife had employed a Private Investigator as she was looking for evidence to support her bargaining position in their upcoming divorce. She got all she needed that night complete with photographs. She also sent copies to my employer and wife. The following morning the customer called my boss and told him that we had lost his business and why. My boss called me in to his office and fired me on the spot.

Alison she was livid that I actually went to a lap dance club. When she saw the photographs of me with a naked woman rubbing her tits in my face she went ballistic once more. The feeble excuse that it was just business cut no ice with her. Needless to say, thing were pretty frigid around the house for the next month.

Unemployed and unemployable! At first I thought that with my track record, I would have little problem getting another job in sales.

Opportunities were few and to even get an interview was tough. I had a couple of really good interviews, thought I had a good chance of securing the job, but each time got knocked back. The word had gone round about my drinking and my self-confidence suffered. I got into the habit of having a few wind down drinks each night. Alison still wasn't being very responsive to me, so my few drinks soon became more, much more and I was left to sleep on the couch more often than not. Alison gave up trying to stop me drinking. I wouldn't have paid any attention anyway. Our marriage was heading only one way and I was too pissed to realise it!

The children were in their mid-teens when Alison was offered a role in a new late night drama series or adult soap opera. This soap differed from the usual day or early evening format as it was to be broadcast after the watershed hour of nine o'clock in the evening. This enabled the writers of the storyline to embrace far more mature themes. Alison's role was to be the provocative sexpot, the one who flirts with other women's husbands, dresses daringly and exudes sex appeal. Alison played that kind of part extremely well, after all it almost came naturally to her. All through our marriage, Alison had played up to all our male friends. The doubts that I had about her fidelity resurfaced when I discovered that the series was to be produced by none other than Marcus Ward! The first series was to consist of thirteen hour long episodes and filming was to be in the production company's Manchester Studios, with external scenes shot mostly in the Liverpool area.

Alison accepted the part, there was no discussion, she simply announced that she had accepted the role. This meant that once again she would be unable to return home each evening and that she would rent a flat during the shooting. The filming was scheduled to last five months. Since she was the sole bread winner in the family I could hardly object.

By this stage I was only sober first thing in the morning and by lunch time I needed a pick me up to help me through the day. I was not drunk, I had learned to hold my liquor by this stage, but by evening I was if not plastered, I was well oiled. I guess Alison was getting desperate about my drinking and she worried about leaving the children in my care, or that's what she told me.

In an effort to get me to stop, contacted my Uncle John and he came over and tried to get me to see just what I was doing to myself and my marriage. I refused to accept that I had a problem and continued as before. Alison simply washed her hands and gave up. She made arrangements with her mother to once again do the honours and keep an eye on our children. She clearly didn't trust me to do that either. That hurt.

Once Alison had moved temporarily to Manchester, I realised that things were getting desperate and made an effort to reconnect with my kids. I thought I was doing quite well, I had cut down of my drinking and tried to re-establish relations with Alison, but she was reluctant to discuss our problems on the phone. One day after she had been absent for about two weeks, I went up to the studio in Manchester to try and patch things up. At first I had problems even getting in the door. Security was tight and I had to get one of the assistant floor managers or some such to vouch for me before I was allowed on set. I was warned not to interrupt once the red light was on as they were going for a take.

They were shooting a 'raunchy scene' as the assistant informed me and not to disturb Alison while she was working, so I stood at the back and observed. Alison had told me that the new show was going to be targeted at adults, but I didn't realise that she would be naked in some of the scenes! I watched as she and some guy, I later found out he was called Paul, performed a deep passionate kiss and slowly sank onto the sofa on the set. The man she was kissing only had a pair of boxer shorts on and Alison had a silk rope loosely tied at the waist. She slowly shrugged her shoulders and the robe dropped to the floor revealing her breasts to everyone's gaze. Her partner then dropped his head down to kiss her breasts and nibble at her swollen nipples. She in the meantime was groping at his erection through the shorts. His hand then moved between her thighs and caressed her neatly trimmed pussy and her legs spread to give him all the access he needed. Obviously, the editor was going to be busy tidying this scene up, there was no way that exposed erect genitalia could be broadcast on a public network in the UK.

Even so, I felt myself get an erection as I watched my wife making love to this man. If she was just acting aroused, she was a better actress than I gave her credit for. The scene came to an abrupt end when the poor bastard, Paul, no doubt stimulated by Alison's administrations ejaculated all over Alison's belly and tits. The director, Julian, called it a wrap and everybody burst out laughing, much to Paul's discomfiture. Alison was handed some tissues and cleaned herself of his spunk. They tried again and this time they got it right. Julian had to call cut again before the pair slowly drew apart and smiled into each other eyes. A blind man could see that the lust in their eyes as he pulled her to her feet. She bent down and gathered her robe and ever so slowly pulled it back on. The director called lunch at that point and Alison walked over to Julian seeking reassurance that the scene was not too graphic. Julian kissed her and taking her hand they strolled hand in hand towards the dressing rooms. I watched as they disappeared into the same room. I quickly crossed over and without knocking just barged right in.

He robe had been discarded once more and he was on his knees with his head buried between her spread thighs! She was holding onto his head forcing him deeper into her pussy. She looked up to see who had disturbed them and when she realised it was me she tried to push him away, but he had his hands gripping her bum cheeks and was not ready to surrender his prize. She hissed at him to get off and he reluctantly let her go. When he saw me, his face turned pale and he looked for a way to escape, except there was none apart from going through me. As he stood up, I thumped him once high on his cheek and again more accurately on his jaw. That was all it took, he went down and stayed down. Alison had taken the opportunity to pull her robe back on and just sat there waiting for me to say something. When I refused to react as she expected, she said simply, "I want a divorce!" I'm not going to remain married to a drunk. Just so you know, he is not the only one that has been benefitting from your failure to perform lately, but he is the best one so far!"

So there you have it. I had lost, first my job, now my wife. In the weeks that followed, I was served with the divorce papers. I was drunk most of the time and just stupidly signed anything put in front of me. I found out later that because I neglected to get a lawyer to act on my behalf, I had signed away the house and all our assets. I even lost visitation rights to my children as her lawyer successfully argued I was an alcoholic and not a fit person to be in charge of their welfare for even a short time. I tried to phone them, but she had changed the numbers or something. I was depressed, so I drank and the more I drank, the more depressed I became.

My final indignity, this happened some weeks later, was to find myself on the street with the down and out's. We were sharing a bottle someone had acquired when a crowd of young lads started in on us and in our drunken condition, we were in no state to defend ourselves. My abiding memory is lying in a gutter bleeding from several cuts and being pissed on by the youths. Drunk I may have been, but not so drunk that I didn't recognise my own son standing to one side watching as his father was peed on while lying drunk in a gutter. Eventually, the police and ambulance came and I was taken to hospital. I was kept there for a few days due to allow my injuries to heal.

Chapter 3 - Consequences

The first morning after I was admitted, brought my Uncle John and I was subjected to more than a piece of his mind. He tore a strip off me and when he was finished and started to leave, I called out. "Please Uncle, I need help! I know that I spurned your warnings in the past, but I finally realise that I have major problems with drink and I am begging you to help me?"

He paused and looked at me reflectively, as if trying to decide if I was worth the effort. Thank God he did and proceeded to tell me what I needed to do. He told me that it was a hard road that I was embarking on but promised me support would be there when I needed it. His final words to me that morning were, that in the final analysis it was all down to me! I had to want to get my life back on track more than I wanted to find the solution in the bottom of a bottle.

I won't bore you with the details, suffice to say he was spot on. It was hard, far harder than I had thought it would be, but with the continuing support of friends in AA I have managed to stay away from alcohol for fifteen months now. As I said at the beginning, I am in remission, not recovering. I am still tempted every time I see people laughing and drinking, but so far I have resisted the temptation. I know what the consequences would be if I succumbed to my weakness.

When I was fit enough to be released from the clinic, Uncle John allowed me to return to my old flat in the basement of his property. His home was a ground floor flat in a Victorian Villa. Once a proper family home on three floors, it had been converted into three separate flats years ago. My aunt and uncle had originally just purchased the ground floor flat, but when the opportunity came along they purchased the basement flat as well when it came on the market. I was in my teens around then and he and my aunt decided to buy it with the intention that I would have an independent flat when I left school and started to make my way in the world. I had lived in it as a young man up until I married Alison and now I had returned to my first home once more.

Alison by this time had now remarried and her new husband was Julian, the same guy she was fucking when we split up. He was now fully ensconced in my old home, the same one I had paid the mortgage on for most of my married life, but what the hell it was time to move on. I tried to rebuild my relationship with my kids, but I was warned off after my first attempt to make contact with them.

Alison's lawyer contacted me and reminded me that the restraining order preventing me from contacting them was still in force. This pissed me off big time. It wasn't as if I had forgotten their birthdays or anything like that. I still sent them both cards with a £50 notes inside, but they never even wrote back to thank me. I checked with a lawyer and he confirmed that since I had signed the divorce paperwork and everything, I had in effect agreed not to have any further contact with my family. He would try and petition to get the Restraining Order lifted, but he felt that I had not been 'dry' long enough to satisfy the court that I had changed my ways.

Uncle John had also provided me with a job working with him at his Taxi./Courier company. I manned the phones to start with and also helped with the logistics of running a taxi fleet. One day few months after I started working for him, he was a driver short for a wedding job and he asked me to drive one of the cars. I was more than happy to. Luckily, my driving license was still intact, God knows how. I have never even had to face the dreaded breathalyser and I had certainly been well over the legal limit on many occasions during my previous employment.

After that, he started using me to cover peak hours or sickness absences and I got to enjoy it. Saturday nights were one of my favourite nights. Watching how people behave when they have had a few too many was enough to re-enforce my new teetotal lifestyle.

I had been dry for about twelve months when Uncle John sadly passed away one night in his sleep. His funeral was attended by so many people that the crematorium was not large enough to hold them all. I was his only living relative and he left everything to me. Suddenly, I was in full charge of a business and responsible for the livelihood of around thirty staff. I took my time and kept the business running more or less in the same fashion as before. I had some ideas about how to make the operation more efficient but hesitated to change what was a successful business.