Third Times a Bust

"Is he coming home, when he coming home? I need him."

"He told me not to ask, or he will stop phoning. And Mum, he doesn't sound well, he's not happy. But he says he's fit." we were both crying now, what the bloody hell had I done.

Mary

I gave his phone number to a friend of mine and whilst I was on the phone to him, she tracked him. One week he was in the South of France, the next mid Germany, the next Poland. What was he doing? He once asked how mother was, but it was very quiet, I was wary of how I answered him. I didn't want to upset him now I knew what she'd done. "She's not well dad, I don't want to say too much and frighten you away. I don't want to get involved anymore than I am. She knows she's done wrong."

"Did she tell you what she did?"

"Yes." I was tempted to mention the word threesome to let him know she'd been honest. I didn't want to cause him any more pain. I also didn't let him know I knew that he was travelling all over Europe.

Then one day after about three months during the phone call he said he'd be in the local area and we could meet up for a coffee. I was over the moon. I couldn't stop crying. He told me not to tell my mother, if I did, I would never see him again. He must have still been in so much pain.

I turned up at the motorway service station that we had arranged, and I looked around for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere, and then somebody waved. Bloody hell he doesn't look good. I put on a brave face, he looks thin and grey, his hair is neat but longer than usual and he has a full beard. I would never have recognized him if he hadn't waved at me. I went up to him and hugged him. He smelt the same, he smelt like my Dad. I could barely hold the tears back.

We were sitting by the window. I think he wanted to keep an eye out of who was coming, I don't think he fully trusted me not to tell Mum. But I had checked her phone and she was still at work. He placed his phone on the table in between us. I started. "I don't want to become you between you and Mum. I know you don't want to talk about her. But she is my mother, and something might slip out about her." I held my hands up and said. "Just one thing and then I will never intentionally mention her again." He nodded, "She knows she did wrong, She's sorry and she's not well."

He gave me a small sad little smile, "That's three, but I'll let you have it."

We talked about how I was doing at university, he let me know he was a long-distance lorry driver. I didn't let on that I'd worked that out. He also told me he was still working for his old company; he was getting data and information over the Internet and then in the evening when he wasn't driving he would write a report. He had to keep himself busy. He told me he got a HGV licence when he was in the Army years ago, that was long ago long before I came along.

I thought things were going well and I was just about to go and get another coffee. I was trying not to push too much. His attention was drawn to the outside. He suddenly turned, scowled at me and said, "That looks like her car driving into the car park. I told you not to bring her, not to tell her you were here."

He got up and walked away leaving the phone in the middle of the table. It couldn't be her; I'd tracked her phone. I knew she was still at work. But I could see what he meant, it was the same make and colour and even had a similar registration number. I grabbed hold of the phone and ran after him. I got in front of him and pushed the phone into his chest and swore at him to stop running away, my father is better than that.

"I told you I didn't tell her. That is not her. Come on, we'll go and look. if it is her, I will take this phone and leave. but I checked, she is still at work." We went and found a spot and we saw a family of four get out of the car. He looked at me and held his hand out for his phone. I've never so willingly given up a phone as I did that day. It shows the depth of his pain.

We got back to the table I went to and fetched some more coffee. He took the stirrer and just endlessly stirred his cup. Looking down he started to speak.

"It's still too painful, she wanted to invite another man into our bed." He was talking quietly.

"She offered me a threesome with her and her friend Dee.

"But it was just an excuse so she could have a threesome with other men. And I don't think I was invited.

"I've worked my guts out trying to be the best husband for her, we've done some amazing things together but now I'm not good enough. So I've just cleared off and she can do what she likes."

Bloody hell no wonder he was upset. I would have to have words with my mother about this.

It was a risk, but I was going to have to talk about her, but he had started talking about her, he opened the door so to speak. "Dad, she knows she's done wrong. She hasn't been out anywhere. She's done nothing but go to work and wait at home for you."

He didn't look like he was going to run away, so I took the risk and carried on. "You need to let her explain, Dad. She's so very sorry. You can't keep on going on like this" He was crying now.

He explained that he kept himself busy either concentrating on driving or on his reports. He doesn't give himself time to think.

He looked at his watch and said. "Sorry sweetie I've got to go, I've got a delivery to make."

"This was nice dad, can we do it again next time you're through?"

He looked at me, he gave me the sad little smile I was getting used to, bugger that smile hurt. "Yes, I think we can. I'll give you a call next time I'm passing this way. But not your mother."

"Can I tell her we've met, and that you're fit and well; please Dad, she's hurting, and it will help her."

I thought for a second he was going to rush off, I think him and I talking has made him face up to a few things. He can't bury himself in his work. I hope I haven't screwed it up. I went up and hugged him, and to be honest, smell him.

"Yes, you can tell her but not where or when,"

I thought I pushed just a little bit more, "Can I tell her about what we've talked about?"

"Yes, but not what I'm doing, And I don't want to meet her. I don't think I'm ready for that yet. if I ever will be"

That last phrase hurt me. Then it struck me, he loved her, he still loves her, and he felt betrayed. She wanted to invite another man into their bed. Christ I was going to have a word with my mother. "I won't dad, I'm frightened of losing you."

He gave me a little grin and said, "No, I think we're past that now." He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked away. I did follow him discreetly to see what he was driving. It's a big unmarked articulated lorry.

I arranged to go home and see Mum the following weekend. I could feel his pain, but I could see a way to resolve this and get them back together. It was just getting the right words in the right place at the right time.

Unfortunately, I let the anger build in me over the week and when I got home on Friday night, I wanted to tear into her for what she had done to him. But as soon as I saw her, I knew that that was not the right way. After dinner we sat with the rest of the bottle of wine. And I told her that I'd met Dad. She was ecstatic, how was he, did he look well, when was he coming home, when could she meet him, how was he. She was repeating herself and she went on and on. I let her ramble for a bit and then I grabbed her hands and gave her a stern look, like she used to give me when I was growing up and I've done something a little bit naughty.

"Mum, Dad's not coming home," The shock on her face when I said that frightened me. I carried on rapidly. I thought about this. I didn't want to give her false hope, but I didn't want to destroy her. "He is well and he's busy, And he's looking OK. But he's not happy."

"Tell him to come home so I can make him happy please tell him I'll do anything." she was rambling again. I had to calm her down.

"Mum, Dad told me a lot more. It wasn't just the threesome with him and two women. That was just a ploy, a reason so you could have a threesome, you and two men. And he didn't think he was invited; it would be just you and two other men."

She was in absolute tears. "No, no, no it wasn't like that, well yes it was. It was an excuse so I could have a threesome. But he would have to be there. I wouldn't do anything without him." That revelation seemed to draw her up, she had a good blow of her nose into her handkerchief, and I saw her straighten herself. I could see she was thinking the next words out of her mouth surprised me. "Oh fuck now I know why he's so upset. Oh shit."

We had finished that bottle of wine, she went and got another one. I had noticed that all the wine in the wine rack had a healthy layer of dust on them. I didn't think she was drinking too much.

She came back in and told me the story of what Dee had been trying to convince her what to do. It seemed so glamorous and fun the way Dee put it. But that she realised was a mistake and she couldn't do it, didn't want to do it. Without going into details, she explained that she and Dad had been pretty adventurous in the early days and in fact up until this they still were. And they had a system between themselves for working out what was acceptable and what wasn't, and she'd overstepped the mark. She knows that. She just wants the chance to tell him she loves him and to apologise. She got it wrong. She stopped crying now and she pulled herself up. We didn't talk much after that. I went and sat right next to her, so we were touching, we just sat there in companionable silence, I glanced across at her a couple of times and she had a furrowed brow. She was thinking. I recognised the look. We finished the wine and went to bed. I'm sure I only slept well because of the amount I'd had to drink.

Mother didn't look well in the morning, well, she hasn't looked well for ages, but she looked worse this morning. But she gave me a smile which made me feel better. We talked a lot about Dad last night and how he wanted to keep separate. There was tea and toast on the table ready when I got down, there was the usual jar of Strawberry jam for me, Raspberry jam for her and a jar of marmalade; only Dad has marmalade on his toast. Her eyes were bloodshot, she had bags under her eyes, but she smiled at me and said. "Sweetie I want to ask you a favour, but I don't want you to risk your relationship with your father so if you said 'no' I'll find another way. Will you ask his permission to write him a letter? I don't want to write a letter and give it to you because that will put you in a difficult spot. So please just ask him."

What could I say, "OK Mum, I'll ask him, but I'm not sure how he'll take it."

"Thank you, sweetie, but I'll be honest with you. I'm going to start writing it now because if you don't get it to him, I will find a way. He thought I wanted to exclude him, and I didn't. That was never my intention, I was never going to do it anyway, it was just a flight of fancy for a few days," I saw her pause for a few seconds. She looked at me. "There is no way I can prove that. Is there?"

I just shook my head, but I believed her.

We spent the rest of the weekend doing mother and daughter stuff, but also Dad stuff like cutting the grass, washing the cars. She seemed happier. I think she had a plan. I think I even heard her humming at one stage of the game.

Just now how to broach this to Dad.

It was easier than I expected. I told him I'd spent the weekend with her, and that I told her some of his feelings. I also told him, but she thinks she knows why he's so upset, and she doesn't blame him for being upset if that's what he thought. But did not let on any more than that. I told him that she wanted permission to write a letter and that she was bothered that, by me asking that would upset him so he wouldn't speak to me. He got very silent on the phone, I was worried now.

"No, I think it's about time we started communicating, yes, she can write her letter. I don't know when I'll read it, but If she's got something to get off her chest and it'll make her feel better, she can write it and you can give it to me next time I'm coming through. But I don't know when that will be."

I had a feeling that he had started to think about things. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

I got on the phone to Mum as soon as I had finished with Dad, I told her she could write the letter and I would take it to him the next time I saw him. She told me she'd finished the letter. It was already written. In fact, she told me she'd written about a dozen until she got the right feeling, but she was still not happy with it, but it was the best she could come up with. She'd pop it in the post to me tomorrow.

Dad and I talked every other week or so on the phone, then after about 3 weeks he told me he was coming through again, he asked if my mother had written the letter, I told him she had. I didn't tell him, but I was sat looking at the envelope now.

It was a week and a half later when we met up again. I gave him the letter, we didn't talk about it. he slipped into his pocket and we carried on talking as if it never existed. I got a little bit more out of him, some of the sights he'd seen driving around Europe, some of the castles, the rolling fields and the mountains. He also mentioned there is a less than desirable element on the road that he had managed to steer clear of. But he admitted most of the time he was working. The time he had left before his next delivery was all too short, I know he had to juggle his times and routes to spend this hour with me, I was so grateful.

Brian.

I'm afraid I left Mary a little earlier than I needed to. I had to get that letter out of my pocket, it was burning a hole in it. Why had I ever agreed to taking it? I could always just throw it away unopened. But no that would upset Mary. And the poor girl had had enough sorrow.

I was just worried what it would say, show up more of my failures.

Then I shook myself and slapped myself around the head, I had been down that self destructive route before. There was nothing to be gained by it. In the early days I had convinced myself that I was a failure. But laying in my bed in the cab I thought back. No! I had not been a failure in anything I'd done. Okay, some things I could have done better, but I was no failure. if she wanted extra that wasn't my fault. It took a while, but I got myself out of that funk.

But I was back there now, then I remembered that Mary told me she hadn't gone out and she was just waiting at home for me to come back. And I trusted Mary.

I realised I had it in my hand, a glance at the cab clock. I had half an hour spare. I had to know. I tore it open and started to read, there was a fair amount of writing, I thought that I probably wouldn't have time to read and understand it all. but I had to get the first bit done

the letter.

My dearest sweetheart, I know I have done wrong, I hurt you. I am truly sorry. I love you with all my heart. Please come home. I need you.

I was crying, I couldn't read any more. I needed to dry my eyes and get on with my delivery. It's not good rufty tufty lorry drivers turning up with tears in their eyes.

I did my delivery and the next pick up. It was a bit early, so I got away to a truck stop. I closed the curtains on the cab, got on to my bed. I carried on reading.

You probably want to know why. I've had time to think about this. It's not an excuse for what I did. I got wrapped up in Dee's enthusiasm, when we talked about some of the games she played with Jake and this idea seemed so much fun, such an adventure and everybody could enjoy it. You would have the attention of two women, and I would have the attention of two men. And yes, you are correct, it was Dee's idea to give you a threesome as a reason for me to have my own threesome. I realise now it was her intention not to include you in my threesome. But trust me sweetheart you were always going to be involved. I wouldn't have done anything without you, we have always done everything together.

Forgive me but yes I did think about doing it. but you have to think about it before you realise it's wrong.

Then Dee mentioned the hotel, you know where we did that thing all those years ago. And that brought back the memories of the other antics we've done, even the one last month. And then I realised I didn't want or need the attention of two men, just your attention, you were enough for me, you are enough for me. I also thought later that by saying I wanted another man to share a bed may have made you think that you were not enough for me. I was so, so wrong. Again, it's no excuse but I got carried away by Dee. And I feel so ashamed of myself that I let her influence me like that, and that I had those thoughts. I'm sorry.

And I remembered our last adventure, the Bus Station, why would I want anyone else?

I fully understand why you'd be upset with me if you thought I was going to have two men and exclude you. Please don't take it out on Mary, she didn't tell me that's what you saw. But she did lead me to think about myself. I didn't see it from your view because we never really talked about it.

That to think you weren't going to be invited must've sent you over the edge. And I really can't blame you because if you'd done that to me, I would have done more than just leave.

We had a system, the two 'No' system, and it worked so well for many years and in a moment of weakness I discarded that tried and tested system.

Hopefully, if I explain what I have done wrong. I will prove to you that I know what I've done wrong so I will not do it again and you can find a way to forgive me.

Hindsight is an exact science, but I think now we were both just going to be a notch on Dee's bedpost. Apart from what I've had to for work, I have not talked to her since the day you left.

I have rewritten this letter about a dozen times, and it's still a jumbled mess. I'm sorry. it's still not right but I have to get it to you. I'm sorry but I can't write the words that show you how sorry I am.

I need to look you in the eyes and tell you how sorry I am and beg your forgiveness, please give me that chance.

Your ever loving wife,

Sandra.

I read it several times before tiredness overtook me and I fell asleep but one of the last thoughts I had before slumber took me, she now did see my point of view and she was really sorry. She had taken the first step, was I going to take the second. I didn't know. I fell asleep looking at the picture of the two of us on the bulkhead. When I woke up, I realised we couldn't go on like this. So yes, I would have to meet her.

Mary,

I didn't need to follow Dad, I knew where his lorry was parked so I watched for it to leave, it was a good 20 minutes or so before he left. He must have read some of it. I so wanted to phone him, but I had to let him make the running now. I did phone mum and I told her that I had delivered the letter. She asked if he read it, and I told her not whilst I was there. We chatted about nothing in particular for a few minutes. And I promised I would see her this weekend.

It was a couple of days later when the phone rang, it was Dad, I answered it in trepidation. Mother hadn't phoned me, so he hadn't phoned her first. God, I hope this is not bad news.

it wasn't, at least I don't think so. He told me when he was coming through again. Next Monday, and could I be at the same service station with Mother. I would have to take the morning off from lessons, but it will be worth it. I told him I would be there. There was no doubt in my mind that mother would move heaven and earth to be there. He told me the time he would be there. I phoned Mum straight away and told her the time and the place. Neither of us could stop crying for ages. I went home for the weekend. Mum spent time fussing over what to wear crying and laughing. I wasn't sure I wanted to be there, but Dad made it clear I had to take her.