TGI Chronicles Pt. 2 Ch. 08

After lunch, Davinia volunteered to clear up the kitchen, I settled into an armchair to read the paper. I felt myself slipping into that pleasant well fed, sleepy state. I don't think I actually dozed off, but I was aroused by Davinia's voice in the kitchen, "No!"

I was concerned, as I came through the kitchen door I saw that TJ had her trapped against the sink, his arms around her, trying to kiss her, he looked up as he heard me, "Come on Dave. Let's teach this bitch the pleasure of a threesome, just like the old days."

I saw that Davinia was pushing as hard against his chest with her hands, as hard as she could but she couldn't break his hold. In two steps I had him around the neck and dragged him off her, "Get off her, you fucking pervert!" And I flung him sideways with all the force I could muster.

He dragged Davinia with him for a bit and then let go of her, but such that she fell down. TJ hit the fridge as I let go of him. I bent down to help Davinia up. She was shaken, but OK. TJ was saying "What the fuck did you do that for? Dave! She's only a fucking bitch. It wouldn't hurt her to put out a bit for your best mate. What's the upset?"

I looked at him, he had a trickle of blood running down from his forehead, I guess he'd hit his head against the fridge, "Get out. Get out right now."

I got hold of him by the shoulder of his shirt, I could hear it tearing as I dragged him towards the front door. He sort of reluctantly followed, still saying that I was out of order, I opened the door with one hand, and threw him out, kicking him hard on as he went through. I just slammed the door and went back to Davinia. She was standing at the kitchen sink drinking a glass of water. I took her in my arms and she collapsed in tears, "I'm sorry, Dav. He's gone now. It's alright, he won't be coming back."

I just stood and held her until she calmed down. When she had, I led her back to the living room and sat her own on the sofa, and I poured her a brandy and passed it to her. All the time I could hear TJ hammering on the front door, shouting "Come on, Dave. This is silly. I'm sorry if I upset the stupid bitch. How was I to know you'd picked up a fucking nun? Come on. We're mates." And a diatribe of pleas along those lines.

I went into the spare bedroom, and stuffed all of his clothes and other things into his bag. I went back to the front door. TJ was just standing there, "I'm sorry mate. Maybe I was a bit out of order."

I threw his bag at him, "Get lost." And I shut the door.

I went back to Davinia, she was sitting, sipping her brandy, "I'm OK. It was just a bit of a shock. He didn't hurt me or anything. When he first started I thought I could handle it, but he began to get a bit rough."

"I'm sorry that you were subjected to anything like that, here in my flat, and from someone who I thought was meant to be one of my friends. I'm so sorry Dav." I felt myself beginning to shake, shock I guess, so I went and got myself a brandy.

When I had sat down next to Davinia, and sipped a little, she turned to me, "What did he mean, about like old times?"

"He was referring to one girl at college that two timed myself and TJ, and we had a threesome a couple of times. But it was a long time ago, and long forgotten, or at least by me. I didn't love her or anything, and she was the one that seemed to want it. Please forget it, Dav, it was the drunken thoughts of a rather sad and bitter man."

I was expecting Davinia to want to know more, or be a bit cold about it, but she wasn't. "As long as it was a long time ago. I can't imagine anything like that actually happening. How did it happen?"

I'm not sure that I could explain that, but I did my best. She seemed safe with the knowledge that it was a long time ago.

Later Davinia suggested that I join her and her family at evensong, on this, the last Sunday before Easter. I felt so grateful to her, and so happy, that I felt I owed her something, so I agreed. And I rather enjoyed it. Afterwards, we went back to my place, made love and she stayed the night.

Monday I had a series of phone calls from TJ. I just refused to answer them, I thought it the easiest way to get my message across. Davinia was sweet, and we seemed closer than ever. That went on all week.

On the Thursday night we went to the theatre again, and then on Good Friday we went out for a picnic. A lot warmer one than the last, and even better. I knew my life was moving to something new, a loving relaxed closeness with this girl, and it could last forever as far as I was concerned. After that I dropped her at her parent's house, but we set a date for dinner on the Saturday. As I got out of my car outside my flat, I heard someone say "Are you Dave Finch?"

"Yes, can I help you?" and then I felt it, a blow that was mind numbingly hard across my legs from the rear, behind by knees. My legs crumpled under me.

"So you're the fucking bastard who's been screwing my wife!" I looked up just in time to see this guy of about thirty, quite thick set, standing there with a baseball bat of a pick axe handle or something in his hand. And his foot was heading towards my body at high speed.

"Well, I'm Pete. You might've guessed. That bitch Lucy's poor fucking husband. Or maybe there are plenty of fucking husbands that could be coming after you." He kicked me in my chest, totally knocking the wind out of me, "I'll fucking teach you to screw around with other men's wives, you little shit."

The piece of wood, baseball bat or whatever it was, was coming down fast towards my head, I put my arm up to protect myself. It hit my wrist so fucking hard. And then he was kicking me again, and suddenly one kick was aimed at my head. I tried to move, but he caught me on the side of the head, on my cheek. My world went blank then.

I woke up hearing someone shouting, and some load bangs and splintering glass, and then someone was running away. I tried to move, but it hurt too much. I tried to shout, but I couldn't get enough breath to do much more than whisper. I just lay there and waited. Soon I heard a siren in the distance, but it was getting closer and then a man in a luminous jacket bending over me. "It's alright mate, we're here now. It looks as if you've been mugged. My name's Luke, what's yours?"

I tried speaking, but realised I had some sort of mask strapped over my mouth and nose. The guy lifted it for a bit, "Dave, David Finch."

"Well we'll soon have you at St Jude's, and they can check you over properly. But I'm pretty sure there's nothing broken, but you're going to be sore for a few days."

At A&E in St Jude's I didn't have to wait too long before I saw a doctor, who checked me over. He suspected that I was concussed, and he wanted several x-rays taken, plus loads of tests that I didn't understand. A nurse came in and asked if there was anyone they could contact for me, I told her to take my phone, if I still had it, and phone Tim, who was number one in my directory. She told me that I had both my phone and my wallet when I was found, "Pretty lousy mugger, you were lucky there at least. Maybe someone frightened them."

I was just about finished being x-rayed and scanned and tested when Tim arrived, "What happened to you? You look as if her husband found out." He said with a reassuring smile.

"How did you know? Did he contact you?"

"Did who contact me? I haven't spoken to anyone about you until the hospital phoned. Oh! You mean it was some husband?"

"Yeah."

"Want to tell me about it? And do I want to know? But first things first, what about you? Are you going to be alright? What do they say?"

"I'll live, or at least they think so. They haven't told me yet what they've found out from all the tests. But I know I've got a throbbing head ache, and I hurt all over."

"Your left eye looks pretty badly bruised. You're going to have a lovely black eye."

"They seem a bit worried about that. They've come and looked at it twice."

"So are you going to tell me what happened?"

Just then the nurse came in to tell me that the Doctor would be to see me soon, but also to tell me that I probably had a couple of cracked ribs, which would explain why I couldn't move, and even breathing hurt like hell. She also said that I would be kept in overnight as they were pretty sure I was concussed, and they would do some more tests in the morning, and I could see the consultant in ophthalmics. Tim said I was covered by insurance through the company, she asked him to visit the desk, if that was alright by me, to give them details and they could move me to the private wing immediately.

Once she'd gone, Tim looked at me, waiting, and so I told him about Lucy, admitting that I'd screwed her, but only after she had really promised that her marriage was completely dead and buried. And that for the last couple of times I'd seen her, I hadn't touched her. But I'm pretty sure it was her husband Pete who attacked me.

Tim sat and listened. "You do get yourself into some pretty stupid positions, Dave. You've got a lovely girl like Davinia, and yet you go off to see some married woman up here in Sheepen, why for God's sake, why? And where is Davinia, by the way? She wasn't with you when you were attacked was she?"

"No. I need you to tell her, but leave that until the morning, please Tim. Dav and I had a lovely day, I'd just got home when this happened. Don't spoil it for her. I'll still be here in the morning."

"OK. If that's what you want. I'll phone her first thing in the morning. But I'm not sure she shouldn't be told now."

"No. Don't spoil today for her with the sort of scrapes I get into. It was a good day, we've never been so close. But could you ask the nurse for my phone, and phone Lucy. You'll find her in my directory. Tell her that her husband has put me in hospital. And that I want to see her now, as soon as possible." I looked at him, he just nodded, and got up to leave, "Thanks Tim, I'll sort it out with Lucy, I want to hear what she's got to say for herself. And tomorrow, I'll be honest with Davinia, promise. I'm not going to have any more secrets from her."

And I just laid there. Then Lucy arrived, "Oh, Dave, I'm sorry. I never thought he'd do that to you. I thought he wouldn't care."

"Oh, he cares alright, and I've got the bruises to prove it. What the fuck were you thinking of Lucy, and why did you give him my name and address?"

"Well, he came home because his Mum had told him that I was out drinking last week with another bloke. I guess it was those neighbours of hers. As soon as he heard that he came home, demanding to know who you were. But I didn't tell him, honest I didn't. Well not then, anyway."

"So when, then, Lucy? When you'd agreed as to how hard a kicking he was going to give me?"

"No. We had a talk, well more of a row really. And he admitted that he'd slept with that girl Dawn, like I suspected. So it was after that that I told him who you were, I just wanted to show him that two can play at that game. He shouldn't have gone after you like he did. But I did warn you, he's got a lousy temper."

"Well he can explain that temper to the judge. You know damn well that I refused to touch you until you promised me that your marriage was over and done with. I didn't fucking deserve this, and both of you are going to pay."

"Oh! No! Please don't tell the Police. You can't. Please Dave. Don't report him. He'll go to prison, and I don't want that."

"I doubt whether he'll go to prison. I wouldn't be surprised if the Police decide to take no further action. But I'm innocent in this, and I don't see why I should protect your lunatic husband."

Lucy looked at me, obviously deciding on what she should say next, "Yes he will go to prison. It's a certainty."

I looked at her, "Tell me, Lucy. What are you hiding?"

"Well, Pete's been a bit wild all his life. Nothing serious you know, not when he was a lad. Just a bit of joy riding, and getting drunk and having the odd fight. And selling a bit of grass now and then. But he was always in trouble with the Police. But then we met and got married, and he's been on the straight and narrow ever since."

"Well, they'll forgive him a bit of youthful stupidity, if he's as straight as you say he is now. Don't worry."

"But he's still got this dreadful temper. It's got worse if anything over the years. And about a year ago he got in a dreadful fight in the pub. He was a bit drunk, but he took hold of a broken bottle and attacked a guy. Well, with all his record, the judge gave him a two year sentence, but suspended it to see if he really could live straight. This will bring that down on him, guaranteed, even if this one isn't so bad. He'll go to prison if you report it. Please don't Dave. Think of my kids with their father in prison. Don't do it to them Dave. Please."

"You should be wanting me to. Then at least he'll be out of your hair. Then you'll get that divorce you wanted, and you're clear of him." I said.

"I don't know what I want. But I don't want him to go to prison. Please Dave."

"OK. Tell him to come and see me, tonight. Right now. I may be upstairs in the private wing by then, but come and see me, or I see the Police."

"And you won't report him? Oh! Thanks Dave?"

"I didn't say that. But if he doesn't come, then I definitely will report him. If he does come, then we'll see. Now go."

"Please Dave."

"Go."

She waited, deciding whether to plead some more, but then she just turned to leave.

She was hardly gone a few seconds than the Doctor came in. He told me that I had some very severe bruising, and that I was probably concussed, they weren't sure. And that I had two cracked ribs, and they were concerned about the kick I received near the eye. And that I'd have to see an ophthalmologist. I asked how long I was going to be here, and he told me that I'd be moved upstairs, they understood from Tim that I could have a private room, as my insurance had checked out. They also understood that I lived alone with no immediate family, so they wouldn't send me home until they were sure I was OK to look after myself, but that would all be sorted out in the morning.

After they had left a Policeman came in to ask if I was up to giving a statement. I told him I was concussed and I was very tired, so was it possible they come back tomorrow? I was going up to the private wing, and they could find me there. He seemed to accept that, but then went on to ask if I had my car near me when it happened, and if so what was its registration number. I told him, and then he told me that it too had been attacked. Every window smashed, all lights smashed in and several major dents over the entire body. Then he left.

A couple of porters came along and wheeled me up to the Private Wing. It was all very swish and smart, a bit like a business hotel. I was set up in a room to myself, with television and flowers and nicely decorated, but it was still a hospital room, with a hospital bed, and all the paraphernalia.

I lay there, getting frustrated that I couldn't move without my chest hurting, but a nurse came along and gave me some pain killers, and I think I drifted off to sleep.

But I woke to voice, "There are a couple of visitors for you, Mr Finch. Do you want to see them, or shall I send them away?"

"No. Send them in."

And a minute later, Lucy came in followed by a sullen and sheepish looking man, who I recognised as Pete, my attacker.

"You can wait outside, Lucy. I want to talk to Pete. Pete sit down in that chair over there." I didn't think he would attack me, not in here, but I preferred him on the other side of the room.

Lucy looked at Pete, unsure what to do.

"Lucy, go. Or both of you go. It's up to you. Now."

She left, still glancing at me and Pete, scared of something. After she'd gone and Pete had settled, I just looked at him, "So, Pete, do you beat up men often, are am I a special exception?"

"I suppose I should be sorry, but I'm not. You were fucking my wife, and you deserved it."

"Did she tell you how we met, and that it was all several weeks ago?"

"No."

"Well, I met her in Shades, you know, the night club? She was there looking to be picked up, I promise you. And I was the lucky one. But I didn't lay a finger on her until she had promised me that her marriage was dead and buried. I don't play with married women, she promised me that you were well out of it."

"Well I wasn't. I was in Scotland working every fucking hour that God sends to make some fucking money for our future. She had no fucking right..."

"Well, That's what she told me. And do you know why she was in Shades? Because she knew you were screwing around on her with some girl named Dawn. And she was right wasn't she?"

"Me and Dawn were fucking weeks ago. It didn't mean anything, and I knew it was wrong. Dawn's been a good friend to me, she's been helping me look at pubs for sale. One which I could afford and try and give my family a decent future, that's why I was working to get every fucking penny I could. And she was fucking well down here screwing around with you."

"Well that raises lots of issues. Do you think it fair that Lucy goes after Dawn for screwing her husband? Maybe she should throw some acid in her face, and put Dawn in hospital like you've put me? Is that fair in your mind Pete?"

"No. Of course not. Dawn's a friend. What me and Dawn did was weeks ago, I know I shouldn't have, but I told Lucy, it didn't mean fucking nothing. But I know you were fucking well out with Lucy last week."

"Yes I was, .... as a friend. Just like you and Dawn. And I promise you I didn't touch her that night, and she did offer. I don't know what she told you, but I only fucked Lucy some weeks ago now, since then when we met we only talked."

We lapsed to silence, me staring at him, and he was sitting, hunched up in the chair, staring at his shoes, whether from shame or just embarrassment I didn't know.

"Was it you that smashed up my car? Or did you get some mates to do that?"

"No. It was me. You seemed to have blacked out, and I didn't know how bad you was. So I sort of worked it out on your fucking car. Then some geezer shouted from somewhere, and I fucking ran."

"Oh! I see. Now tell me why you've got a suspended sentence hanging over your head."

He looked at me, I guess he was surprised that I knew. Lucy obviously hadn't told him everything.

"Well, I sort of got into this fight in a fucking pub, and it got a bit violent. That's all. The fucking Police had it in for me 'cos of my old record. Once they've got their fucking hands on you they never give up, the fucking bastards."

"What was the fight about? And why did you do so much damage that you got such a sentence? The average pub fight doesn't get two year sentences thrown around."

"Well, it was just after I lost my fucking job, and I couldn't find any fucking work 'cos my fucking employers put the word around against me. That's what those sort of bastards do to people like me. And I guess I was a bit drunk, I had had quite a few, and some guy starts an argument about the game, and it got sort of ... got out of hand."

"Out of hand! Lucy said you took a broken bottle to someone! That's more than out of hand."

"Yeah...well... whatever...I suppose I've got a bit of a temper." He sort of smiled at me, sheepishly, "That's why I lost my fucking job in the first place, and I told them fuckers what they could do with their fucking job. But of course all the fucking chains are so fucking scared these days about people that come into contact with the fucking customers. So, what with my record I couldn't get no fucking job. That's why I've been saving money to buy a fucking pub. I think we'll just about be there when I finish this contract. That's why me and Dawn were out looking at possibilities last week."