The Rose and Crown

It was almost a look of surprise as she looked over at me. As if she'd really and truly just remembered I was there. She looked sheepishly away, and then whispered something back to Sally.

"She said she'd come over and see you in a minute," Sally informed me when she got back over to me.

"In a minute! In a bloody minute!" I shot at her. "I want her here now."

"Don't push your luck mister," was all she said back, and then she wandered off to try her luck with another John further down the bar.

I stood there fuming, unable to take my eyes off Carrie for a minute. Unable not to notice that Karl arm had slid across her shoulders, the tips of his fingers brushing casually against one of her breasts.

At least she looked over at me a few times, with a watery smile for my benefit.

I started counting the minutes, wondering at which point I would explode, but after five minutes she stood up and excused herself, but didn't come straight over to me. Instead Carrie made her way over to the toilets, and disappeared through the door.

I didn't know whether she wanted me to follow her or not.

I didn't know what the hell to do, but before I could make my mind up, she came out again, and with a glance over towards Karl's group, made her way over to me.

"What the fucking hell are you playing at Carrie?" I demanded angrily. "Let's go, and go now."

I went to grab her arm, but she pushed me off, backing away.

"Don't cause a scene Terry," she spat out at me. "You can go if you want, but I'm staying here for a while."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me Terry," Carrie told me firmly. "I'm staying here for a while to chat to my old friends. You can go and come back later for me or stay here and wait."

I looked at her unable to believe my ears. The woman who had told me how much she loved me several times earlier that day was telling me to piss off.

"Better if you just go home Terry," she continued when I failed to respond. "I'll get a taxi back later. Well talk about this then."

"I am not bloody well leaving you here Carrie," I cried ___ I very nearly did cry in fact.

"Then just stay and watch then Terry if you must," she answered resignedly. "You might not like what you see, but for your own sake don't interfere."

I tried once more to persuade her to leave with me, but she would have none of it.

"Better if you left now Terry," she suggested. "I'll see you later. Don't worry sweetheart everything will be Ok afterwards. I love you and will make it up to you ___ I promise. Just give me this one evening, and everything will be like before."

Carrie made to move away, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back, astounded at her outrageous behaviour.

I didn't even see him coming.

Before I knew it, I was flat back up against the bar, as the big black guy knocked my arm away from my wife, and me with it. I'm no wimp so I took a swing at him, but I might as well have tried to knock down Nelson's column. He shoved me further along the bar, and then pushed me to the ground.

"I warned you, you stupid little bastard," he reminded me, a nasty grin on his face. Then he picked me up as if I was a featherweight and propelled me towards the door.

"Don't hurt him Ted," cried out Carrie. "He hasn't done any real harm."

I don't really know whether her pleas had any effect on the outcome, but at least I guess she had tried.

The next thing I knew, I was outside and doubling up as he hit me in the stomach, and then reeling backwards as he punched me in the chest. It felt as if I'd been hit by a train, and I fell flat on my back and waited for the beating to continue.

It didn't come.

I lay there for a good while, wondering how the hell I had got there. I had a pain in my chest from where he had hit me, and was fighting for my breath due to the blow to my middle.

Two punches ___ just two casual punches and I had been reduced to a wreck, aching all over, and still unable to stand up.

Another ten minutes, and I was able to pull my self up to my feet, shaking off the dust and grime from my clothes.

How could an evening that had started so wonderfully have descended that far?

Again ___ it was the same thing. I just didn't know what the hell to do.

I'm no softy, but how could I stand up a great hulk like that. He'd murder me.

I'd never felt so damn humiliated and hopeless in my entire life.

Some bloody 'special' hero I was.

It wasn't as if I even knew anyone in Leeds. I didn't so much as have a friend to call to help me.

I stood there and watched the slow stream of clients going in and out of the pub. More than a few of the guys going in and coming out later with one of the women on their arm.

The pub was a bloody brothel.

My wife of six years, who only that morning I had discussed having children with, was in a fucking brothel. She'd taken me there and must have known.

I fought back the tears and knew what I had to do. I couldn't walk away and leave her there like that. I didn't know what I was going to do with her, but I couldn't walk off and abandon her.

If she didn't come home with me this time, then potentially our wonderful, perfect marriage was over.

I guess more than an hour had passed before I managed to get myself ready to go back inside the pub.

I didn't know what to expect.

I certainly never expected what confronted me.

I guess maybe you might describe it as an impromptu lesbian strip tease act. Or something like that.

Carrie was in the middle of the pub with just her panties left on, her beautiful full breasts on display for all the pub to ogle.

And ogle they did!

Even as I stood there too shocked to move, the other girl, who was down to her bra and panties reached forward and started to pull my wife's panties down.

A large group of guys surrounded the pair of them, grinning and laughing as Carrie's panties slipped slowly down her legs.

NO! NO! I couldn't stand it.

I charged forward, pushing my way through the other men, and grabbed at Carrie, who looked round at me a startled look on her face.

"Oh no Terry ___ Oh for Christ's sake no," was all she managed to get out.

I fared no better than the last time, and the lights started to go out for me as someone smashed me hard in the face.

The last thing I remember seeing was Karl clutching my wife in his arms, her panties still hanging half way down her legs, while his hands cupped her naked breasts. I think she had a look of horror on her face as she watched me being dragged out of the pub.

They weren't so easy on me the second time, and it was several hours later that I fully came to, in the middle of a car park some distance from the pub. I hurt all over, but I guess they were experts and though I was in pain, nothing seemed to be broken. It took me an hour to find my way back to our car, and another before I managed to start it and drive back to out new rented flat.

I fell asleep on the sofa, not knowing, and by then beyond caring at what time Carrie would be home.

The following morning I woke up feeling worse than death. I had a very long, very hot shower, and at last my body started to feel like it belonged to me again.

I got slowly dressed trying not to think of the previous evening, but I just couldn't stop.

I didn't know if the pain in my body was as bad as the pain in my brain.

Was my marriage over? I had no idea, but it seemed pretty likely.

For the life of me I couldn't understand what had happened.

How could my loving wife Carrie have acted like that?

I'd known her all those years, but quite obviously not as well as I thought.

Eleven O'clock in the morning and where the hell was she? I was buggered if I was going to chase back over there to find her.

Another hour passed and still no news.

I paced around the room, not knowing what to do.

I was buggered if I was going back to look for her.

Then the phone rang.

It had only been connected the day before, and unless it was a double-glazing salesman on a cold call, then the only person other than myself who had the number was my darling, fucking wife.

"Hello," I answered after picking it up.

"Hi honey," she replied quietly. "Are you OK?"

"What do you think Carrie?" I asked her.

"Oh Terry I'm so sorry for last night. I should have known not to go back to that bloody damn pub."

"Where are you now?" I demanded.

"Still at the pub. I'm ready to leave now Terry __ do you want to come and pick me up, or should I get a taxi."

I ignored her question.

"So who did you sleep with last night my darling wife?" I asked sarcastically, but she didn't answer. She didn't really have to did she?

"Or did the whole pub get to fuck you Carrie, is that what happened?"

"No," Carrie claimed urgently. "No __ don't be stupid Terry, the only one was....."

She left the sentence unfinished, it suddenly dawning on her what she was about to say.

Neither of us said anything for several minutes, though I could hear her sobbing on the other end of the line.

"Please Terry, please understand why I did what I did. Please let me come home to you and let things be as they were ___ I can explain everything if you'll just let me. Just give me a chance"

I desperately wanted to tell her to piss off. But this had to be sorted out one way or the other.

"Make your own damn way home," I told her. "Or get one of your boyfriends to drive you back."

"Oh thank you Terry," Carrie whimpered. "I'll be back in half an hour, an hour at the most ___ It will all be OK ___ you'll see. Everything will be OK."

I slammed the phone down before she had time to say anything else.

Damn it! Bugger it! I loved her but I hated her.

What the hell was I going to say to her when she got back?

Was I going to tell her to pack her bags, or would I take her in my arms?

As it turned out, I didn't have to make that decision.

Half an hour passed, then the full hour.

The afternoon turned into evening and still no sign of my errant wife.

By eight pm it was obvious she wasn't actually going to come home. Not that night anyway, and for me that meant possibly not any night in the future.

As each hour had passed I had got angrier and angrier. Not shouting and screaming angry, but a with cold calculating fury that consumed me.

I put a few things in the car, and drove very carefully back to the city centre, hoping that I could find the pub again that Carrie had taken me to the night before. After several mistakes, I eventually recognised a large factory, and just down the road, the Rose and Crown pub.

Parking the car just around the corner, I got out and walked towards the bar, outwardly confident, but my heart pounding away inside.

I had to admit I was nervous __ even physically frightened after what they'd done to me the previous night.

I hesitated by the front door, not knowing what to expect. I didn't even know for sure if Carrie was still in there.

I pushed the door open and went in.

It was much as before. Full of rough looking characters, and even rougher looking women.

I recognised several faces, and a couple of them looked surprised to see me. If they weren't sure if it was me from the night before, then the black eye and bruises on my face would have given it away.

"Haven't you had enough mate?" Asked the barman on spotting me.

"Where's my wife arsehole?" I demanded.

At least he had the decency to look surprised.

"Your wife?" He queried screwing his face up. "Carrie's your wife?"

I nodded my confirmation.

"Bloody hell," he said. "She told us you were just a date."

The barman looked at me with some sympathy, remembering what had happened the night before, and possibly even more since I had been thrown out.

He knew there was going to be trouble. He didn't know what, but he knew.

He cocked his head to one side, indicating the far corner.

When I looked over, there she was, Carrie, sat on Karl's knee. Neither of them had noticed me enter and I crossed over to them before they realised I was there.

Carrie gasped in surprise and tried unsuccessfully to pull her blouse back over to cover her bared breasts. She needn't have bothered as we'd all seen them before.

Karl simply grinned at me, that sort of grin when you know you've got the better of someone.

"That was a long half hour Carrie," I said to her. "Did something hold you up?"

Carrie said nothing at first, just stared at me with a shocked look on her face.

"Piss off wimp," spat out Karl. "I'll send her home to you when I'm good and ready."

Well at least it seemed that he knew she was my wife.

"Please Terry," whispered Carrie, at last finding her voice. "I'll definitely be back home later. I promise you I'll come back and everything will be just fine."

Karl laughed and tweaked her left nipple ___ teasing me, more than her.

"You'll go when I say you can," he spat out, never taking his eyes off me, to judge my reaction.

"Last chance Carrie," I said to her, ignoring his sneers. "It's now or never."

I'd thought about it a lot, and I think even then if she'd come with me, chose me over him, then I would try to work it out. Maybe we could get over what had happened so far.

I wasn't sure, but maybe.

She looked at me pitifully, indecision written all over her face. Her eyes, her lovely brown eyes, said it all. She knew how much she had hurt me, but instead of doing what she knew she should, she was calculating how much more she could get away with. How much further could she push me and still have me come back for more.

"Please Terry, be reasonable," Carrie whispered eventually, and I knew she had failed me again, and that we were finished for good. "You know how much I wanted to see my old friends again, and re-live my old student days just one last time ____ Just hang on a little longer for me while I have my last harmless little fling, and I promise you everything will get back to normal. I really do love you sweetie, and promise I'll make it up to you."

She stared at me imploringly, her eyes begging me to agree. But I said nothing in reply ___ I had nothing else to say.

Carrie went to say something else to me, but Karl had had enough as well. He squeezed the nipple that he had been playing with throughout even harder, and her words were transformed into a gasp.

That was it. I had all the information I needed. My wife was coming back home after all, but I'd have to wait till tomorrow ___ or maybe the day after ___ or the day after that.

Fine __that was great wasn't it?

I noticed that the West Indian guy was edging over towards me, so I held up my hands and backed off. No point in getting involved in a one sided fight with him again.

The whole bar had fallen silent, waiting to see what was going to happen, but as far as I was concerned nothing was going to happen. At least not straight away.

"See you all later then." I said quietly.

"I'm not still fourteen Terry," Carrie burst out. "I can look after myself now."

Even her face fell when she saw how that hit me. Her one special thing over all those years, and she was throwing it back in my face.

"I'm sorry Terry," she started. "I really didn't mean that. I ..... " But I ignored her, taking no notice of her incoherent apology.

As I backed out through the door, Karl laughed out loud again and slid her blouse right off her, reaching up under her skirt, even as I watched, to rub my face in my misery.

It could have been that, that caused the tears to roll down her cheeks, but somehow I doubted it.

I guess she still loved me in her way, and to see me humiliated like that again could have just been too much.

That's what I like to think anyway.

As I closed the door behind me, the silence in the pub crashed, as everyone started to talk and laugh at the same time.

I guess they thought they'd seen the last of me.

Strolling slowly back to my car, I opened the boot and took out the stuff that I'd put there before I left the house. Anybody watching me would have thought I was cool and relaxed, whereas actually I was fuming inside, terrified of what I had decided to do, not knowing how it was going to turn out.

I had a licence for my over and under, twelve bore, Browning shotgun. I'd been going to clay pigeon shooting for a couple of years by then, and though I wasn't very good at it, I figured I didn't have to be for what I had planned.

I selected a handful of cartridges, making sure they were all small calibre, as I didn't want to end up in prison on a murder charge. I broke the gun and pushed two rounds in, putting the rest in my jacket pocket.

A few moments later and I was back outside the pub, and staring at the two big engraved windows.

'This will wake them up,' I thought, as my heart thundered away inside my jacket.

This wasn't me; it just wasn't me. But what else was I to do?

There was no mileage in going back in and arguing with her, as she wouldn't agree and I'd probably get another beating.

What would I do if I simply went home?

Wait for her to come back to me and discuss how we might get over what she had done ___ how she had humiliated me?

No bloody way ___ it had gone beyond that by now, and I wasn't taking any more shit from any of them.

Taking aim at the first window, I squeezed the trigger just like I'd been taught. My arm was trembling, shaking even, and the barrel of the shotgun was swaying around uncertainly in a large circle, as I fought to control my nerves. It didn't matter really, as I was no more than twelve or fifteen feet from the window. I increased the pressure on the trigger, and resisted the urge to close my eyes.

There was a loud bang and an instant later the whole window disintegrated in a twirling mass of broken glass.

I took aim at the second window with renewed confidence, fired off the second barrel, and the other window followed suit.

The report from the gun echoed round the surrounding buildings, far louder than it had ever before sounded when I had shot previously, out in an open field, and mingled with the tinkling of falling glass.

I calmly took two more cartridges from my pocket and loaded them into the gun. Then I waited to see what would happen. I really had no idea how they would respond and almost hoped that they wouldn't.

But I was ready __ ready and prepared to show them that they'd made a big mistake if they thought I was a wimp, and would take what they had done to me lying down.

The doors flew open and several guys poured out. They stopped dead when they saw me stood there with the gun.

Nobody moved.

Then Karl came charging out, closely followed by his big black henchman.

"Stupid fucking bastard," he screamed at me, and charged me, maybe thinking I'd not thought to reload.

Maybe not thinking at all.

I took careful aim, somewhere around his knees, as I didn't want to risk actually killing him, and put pressure on the trigger. I was as cool as a cucumber, even having time to note that my arms no longer trembled, and that the gun was pointing exactly where I was aiming it.

Time seemed to slow down.

I had all the time in the world.

I quite clearly saw the look on his face change from rage to terror, as he realised that he had made a serious error of judgement. Maybe I had the same grin on my face that he'd had just a few moments before. You remember, the one when you know you've really got the better of someone.

BANG!

He went down screaming, even surprising me, with the mess it made of his legs.

Fair play to the black guy ___ he didn't even hesitate.

Great courage or no brains I'm not sure, but he didn't stop. Not that is till the second barrel load ripped into his legs and put him down as well.

The two of them lay on the ground, Karl screaming, and the black guy Ted groaning aloud. I didn't even bother to reload that time, my emotions were too shot, but fortunately the rest of the crowd suddenly melted away.