Ships that pass in the Night

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Subtitle : Travellers’ Tales

Dining alone when you are working away from home is not the most enjoyable of pastimes. Many restaurants turn their collective noses up at single diners or at best, they seat you in the most awkward table possible. These are usually right next to the entrance or exit from the kitchen or even worse right by the toilets.

The exceptions seem to be those eateries that are directly associated to the Hotel where you are staying. During the week, the majority of their customers, coach parties excepted are the single travellers.

Working for myself meant that I was on the road a lot. Three months here, six months there was the norm for contractors like myself. Sometimes, you were hundreds of miles from home so you tried your hardest to only be away four nights a week. If that meant arriving just before midday on the Monday, doing thirty-seven or even forty hours of work and leaving at midday on a Friday, then you would do it even if the long slog up or down the motorway meant that you sometimes didn’t get home until late on the Friday night.

This constant being away from home probably contributed to the breakup of my marriage. I can’t say that I blame the ‘ex’ for wanting out. She earned good money from jobs close to home but being in IT, you went where the work was.


I was dining alone, naturally on a Thursday night. This was the last week of my contract and I was looking forward to a couple of weeks at home before going on the road again and the start of a six-month stint in Cheshire. At least that was a bit closer to home than where I was at present, in Preston, Lancashire.

As I said, I had just the last half day here and I’ll be free. This last week has been rather fraught because the manager I was working for assumed that he had me for another week. I did keep reminding him of my ‘end date’ but it seemed always to be too far ahead for him to do anything about it that week. As a result, I’d already done a lot of overtime and I still had another four hours of handover to go.

I was perusing the menu when I saw a woman enter the restaurant. I had to do a double take because she was frankly effing beautiful. Unlike most of the other women in the place, she was wearing a dress and boy, did she know how to wear it. It seemed to have been made for her, the fit was that good.

My poor heart went even more into overdrive when she was shown the table next to me.

I returned to the menu and tried to put the image of this wonderful specimen of humanity that was sitting only a few feet from me out of my mind.

As the waiter took my order, I saw that she was indeed attracting a lot of attention from the other male diners in the place. Some were I am sure positively letching at her. I felt rather sorry for her. She should not have to be subject to that sort of attention from the male of the species.

Ironically, she ordered the exact same main course, the grilled Trout, as me so naturally, our dishes arrived together.

“It seems that I have a rather large fish. Do you want to swap?” she said to me totally out of the blue.

“Eh?”
Then I looked at her fish and then mine. Hers was indeed quite a bit larger than mine.

“That does seem to be the case. If you want to swap then I’m game,” I said.

We exchanged plates and nothing more was said for the rest of the meal.

We met again the next morning as we checked out.

“I didn’t get the chance to say thank you for last night,” she said.

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” I replied.

“That’s why, you didn’t,” she said and then she was gone out the front door.

As I watched her leave the hotel, I wondered if I should have done something but the coward in me won the day and I stayed put.


Almost a year later, I was in the middle of a contract in Chesterfield when once again, I found myself eating in the Hotel Restaurant. I’d done this several times since my contract had started. The food was ok but the place was furnished identically to almost every other hotel in the chain. I only stayed with the chain because I got reward nights. Ten nights and you get a free night. Ten weeks and I get a whole week of stays including breakfast for nowt. That makes a difference to my company bottom line.

Anyway, I’d just placed my order when who should walk into the restaurant but ‘her’. She was wearing another drop dead gorgeous dress. I thought, ‘man, she has got to have balls of steel to wear something that short and revealing in these places. Once I’d ‘clocked her’ I buried my head in the morning paper.

Then I felt that someone was standing close by. I looked up and it was her.

“Hello,” I said.
“I saw you come into the Restaurant,” I added.

She smiled.

“I know you did. May I join you?”

“Eh? Oh? Why not, please take a seat.”

She looked relieved as she sat down. I could see back at the bar, a few of the other single men give me the thumbs up. Crude or what?

“It seems that our paths have crossed again,” she said as she looked at the menu.

“I’m on a contract here. Six months,” I said.

“Me too. Only a week of training though. Glasgow next week. Never seems to stop,” she said slightly wearily.

“Yes, this always being away from home does get rather tiresome, after a while,” I replied.

“What does your wife think of it?”

Then I realised that I was wearing my wedding ring. Initially, I’d carried on wearing it in the hope that we’d get back together. When the separation had become final, I guess I must have carried on wearing it as a sign that I’m not interested or, that what I hoped.

“Oh that. I should really take it off. We are getting divorced well, when she gets her backside into gear.”

She chuckled.

“Unlike all the other men who take theirs off the moment they drive away from home, just in case…”

I knew the type of man she was describing only too well.

“Where is home for you?” I asked.

“Ipswich or as near as makes no difference. You?”

“I have a bedsit in Preston for another month but my real home is in Winchester or as near as makes no difference,” I replied.

She laughed.

“Being circumspect perhaps?”

“Not really. You’d need a large scale map to find the exact place where I live. Far easier to just say Winchester and people get the general idea. You don’t need to be more accurate than that unless the person you are talking too, comes from that part of the world,” I said hoping to not appear eager.

I was not telling the truth about where I lived. My home was a glorified bedsit in the most rundown part of Eastleigh, not fashionable Winchester. It just sounded better than a small place that almost overlooked the main London to Southampton railway line.

As we ate our meal in almost silence, there was so much that I wanted to say but didn’t have the nerve to do so. That really frustrates the hell out of me.

As we waited for our respective bills, I said,

“I’m sorry for not being better company tonight.”

She smiled back at me.

“You were the perfect gentleman so don’t do yourself down too much.”

“Thanks for that.”

The following morning, we met once again but this time in the car park. By some fluke, our cars were parked next to each other.

“As it will probably be a long time before we meet again, do you mind telling me what you thought of that dress I was wearing the first time we met?”

“Eh? Oh? You mean the black one with the pink and white rose pattern?”

She grinned.

“That’s the one.”

As I opened the door to my car and got half in, I said to her,
“Then the answer to your question is, ‘god, she looks stunning in that dress. Could I look even half as good if they made it in my size? And the answer was naturally, no chance.”

I didn’t wait for an answer but drove off. I saw her in my mirror waving back at me. She had a huge smile on her face.

I felt safe telling her that because the chances of us meeting again were so small as to be invisible.

Even my soon to be ex-wife didn’t know about my desires to dress as a woman and if it was possible, live as one and if that meant going the whole way, then so be it.


Life took precedence over anything else for a while. Like many Contractors, I only took a holiday between contracts. Well, my current one had lasted almost four months when I landed a two-month deal in Birmingham. The money wasn’t the best but I took it just to have some positive income rather than only negative expenditure.

I’d been there for about five weeks when as I returned to the hotel from work one day, the receptionist called out to me,

“My Haynes, there is a package here for you.”

“Eh? I wasn’t expecting anything,” I said a bit bewildered.

“Here it is. It is addressed to Mr Haynes, drives a ‘14’ plate, Silver Astra,” said the clerk.
“And here is the registration number they quoted. It is the one you put down on your registration slip.”

Whoever it was, had gone to a lot of trouble. I felt that I had to take the package.

It seemed to be something inside a cardboard box but I decided to wait until I returned to the safety of my room before opening it.


As I saw the contents, my heart sank to appear in New Zealand and carry on going south at the speed of light. It was a dress. Well, not just a dress but that dress. Unable to resist, I looked and it was my size. There were a pair of shoes and some tights. At the bottom of the box there was a note.

“Hello, it’s me, that bad penny that keeps meeting you at these hotels. Well, I took what you said to heart and here is a dress that isn’t a million miles away from the one that you first saw me wearing all those months ago. I’ve also taken the liberty to add some shoes and a pair of 100 denier tights. I’ll be by at seven thirty to make you pretty. Then if you are agreeable then we could have dinner together? I’ve reserved a room just for this purpose. I’ll call you in your room when I’m ready.

Adelaide or Adelle for short.”

I was stunned. For the first time in my life I was being asked out on a date and a date with one of the most stunning women I have ever met. I didn’t know if I should leap for joy or cry.

I sat on my bed for what seemed like ages. My brain was whizzing around at a billion miles a second but unable to concentrate on anything. I was thinking about everything but going on a date. It was as if my brain was so conditioned to not want anything to do with a woman that I’d rather walk on hot coals that admit that I fancied her something rotten.

Eventually, my emotions were kicked into touch and I faced up to the decision I had before me. Do I 1) Do a runner, check out the hotel and never return to darken their doors again, 2) do nothing and tell her thanks but no thanks or 3) go and have the closest shave known to man and get ready for what could turn out to be the date of a lifetime or the last date I’ll have in this lifetime.
In the end option 3 won out. I decided to find out why me. I’d only be polite and civil to her apart from that one statement which I now regretted making.


The appointed time arrived and passed by. There I was sitting in my room wearing a dress, tights and heels, well, they were low but definitely heels but I was waiting for someone and as the time went by, it looked like I was being stood up.

I waited until after eight and gave up. I took off the dress and everything else and put on some man clothes and went out of my room. I headed for a pub a few miles away to get something to eat. But, my mind was bigger than my appetite and I only picked at my food.

I returned to my room and went straight to bed. Being stood up was not something that had happened to me before and I’d never stood up a date so to put it bluntly, I was more than a bit miffed at the whole thing.

The following morning, I was still rather angry at being stood up but I put it behind me and packed everything away ready to leave for home that afternoon. I debated putting the dress and everything else in the rubbish but for some reason, I didn’t. I packed it all away in my bag and checked out of the hotel.

Later that morning, I cancelled my booking at that hotel for the following week. Then I booked another some distance away from the city. This place was a small country Hotel with only six rooms. It was a world of difference from the places I normally stayed in. It was like stepping back in time but it was comfortable and the staff were good at their job. I was amazed that this place only got a ‘Good’ on sites like ‘Trip Adviser’. Compared to the other places, this was great.

Over the weeks, I began to relax but I was always on the lookout for her car but never found it.


My contract ended and I returned home and was looking forward to having a nice couple of weeks off before starting a new contract in Edinburgh.

What I wasn’t expecting was the arrival of my wife the day after I’d returned.

“Oh hello,” I said as I answered the door to my flat.

“We need to talk!” she said sternly as she marched into my home.

I closed the door and followed her into my sitting room. Well, it was my dining room and there was a small kitchen at one end. That was the extent of my domain.

“Well, what is it that you want? Has your ‘toy-boy’ dumped you then?”

She glared back at me.

“What I do in my private life is none of your business.”

“So, what is it then? What is it that has brought you to the slummy side of the City?”

Again, I got a wicked glance.

“Who is she then?”

“Who is who?”

“That woman you have been galivanting around the country with since we separated?”

“Eh?”

“Do I need to spell it out?”

Without waiting, she fished some photographs out of her very expensive handbag.

“This woman!”

I looked at the photos. They were of me speaking to Adelle at various times and in various places around the country.

“You! You have had the nerve to have me followed when you are shacked up with someone who is old enough to be your son?”

“Yes. And? Who is she and is she here now?”

She turned around and marched into my bedroom. Naturally, there was no one there.

“Look Natalia, I’m not and have never been in a relationship with that woman. If you are doing this in order to get more money from me in the divorce, then you are out of luck. We agreed a financial settlement when we separated. You got the house and what was it? Oh yes, fifty grand out of my pension. Then your shyster of a lawyer had the temerity to complain that I paid you the some less the tax I had to pay on the money. But, I had the law on my side. Either I paid the tax or you did and as you apparently do not work I am sure that HMRC would love to find out what you do for an income…”

She said nothing but looked like she was about to explode.

If I thought that she was done then I was wrong.

“What about this then?”

She pulled out another photo of me in my room in that dress. It must have been taken through my bedroom window. I racked my brain for who and how the picture must have been taken. Then I realised that my room that night was on the first floor. It must have been taken from another room in the Hotel.

“Cat got your tongue then? I always knew that there was something queer about you. No real man would take an interest in what a woman wore.”

“You really must be desperate to go to those lengths to spy on me. I pity you, I really do.”

Before she could reply, I added.

“I think you should leave and please do not come back here again. You are not welcome in my home and the sooner our divorce is finalised the better.”

She had one more salvo up her sleeve.

“Ah yes. That. I’m taking you to court. I want everything understand, everything.”

“Really? You are going to get diddly squat more from me. I’m not the one shacked up with an eighteen-year old? Then you go to great lengths and no doubt expense to follow me all over the country? It will look really bad on you when I tell my side of things.”

“You wouldn’t dare? A pathetic perverted wimp like you. You never had the balls to stand up to me in the past and you won’t have any in the future.”

“Are you done?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Then get the hell out of my home before I call the Police!”

She laughed.
“Promises, promises. You always were full of hot air.”

I picked up my phone and dialled ‘999’.

“Police Please.”

“Yes. I have an unwanted and uninvited visitor in my home. She is refusing to leave.”

“No. She just barged in when I opened the door. She’s also trying to blackmail me.”

“My estranged wife.”

“No, I will not lay a hand on her. I’m not that sort of person.”

“Yes, I’ll put her on.”

“Here, a Police Officer wants to talk to you.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to them. I’m going to take you apart in court. What I’ve shown you tonight is just the tip of the iceberg believe me.”

She disappeared out of the door as fast as she’d arrived.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief before saying into the phone.

“Did you get all that?”

“Great. I’ll be in to see you tomorrow. Is after 5pm ok?”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

I hung up the phone and tried to take stock of what had just happened.


I was no nearer coming to any conclusion when I left home early the next afternoon. I drove into town and for some reason parked near where my hopefully soon to be ex-wife worked. Force of habit I suppose.

I sat in the car for god knows how long until a knocking on the driver’s door window brought me back to reality.

I wound down the window.

“Are you all right?” asked the woman traffic warden.
“I have to ask as we are on the 4th floor and several people have… have taken their own lives in recent years.”

“No… No, I’m not suicidal. Just trying to think.”

I smiled back at her and got out of the car.

“I guess I’d better go and get a ticket. I don’t want you giving me a fine now do I?”

“Are you sure that you are ok?”

“Yes. Yes, I am. I have a meeting to attend shortly. I now know what I need to do Thank you for… well for showing some concern.”

I went and purchased a parking ticket and headed off towards my meeting.

At the bottom of the stairs, my old autopilot seemed to take over and I started walking towards the office building where my wife worked. I’d gone almost half way when I realised what I was doing so I sped up and walked right past the front entrance without looking at the building.

I’d reached the end of the road and was about to turn left and towards my Solicitors Offices when out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone I knew. On a second glance, it was actually two people. My wife was walking along the street laughing and appearing very happy with someone else. That other party was none other than Adelle… if that was her name. What was worse, was that they were holding hands.

I managed to keep my brain working long enough to take a photo of them with my phone. Then I hurried on down the street. Thankfully, a few parked vans hid me from their view.

Once I was around the next street I slowed down and began to realised that I’d been setup and bigtime. Was Adelle really her name and how had she hooked up with my wife?

Then it must have been Adelle who took that photo of me in my room. What a fool I’d been. It would be a long time before I trusted a woman, any woman ever again.

With a renewed zing in my step, I arrived at the firm of Goode, Barnes and Young, my solicitors.

I was shown into see my Solicitor Tim Barnes a few minutes later.

“Come on in and take a seat,” said Tim as he welcomed me into his office.

“Thanks Tim.”

“That was a great idea to call me last night. I got everything on tape. I’ve sent a transcript to her side.”

I looked shocked. Tim noticed it.

“Disclosure and all that. If they keep anything back then it goes against them.”

“I have some new information that explains a lot.”

Tim opened his computer and got everything ready. As he always did, he recorded everything just so that there could be no confusion about who said what and when.

“Please go ahead.”

“On my way here, I saw my wife walking down the street. Whilst there is nothing strange in that, she was with another woman. They were a couple. I could tell that by their body language. I took a photo of them.”

I handed Tim the data card from my phone.

He soon had the picture on the screen of his computer.

“Interesting,” said Tim.
“Do you know who she is?”

“Yes, I do. She is apparently named Adelle. I’ve met her several times over the past year or so. We just happened to be staying at the same hotel or so I thought. One of the pictures that my wife showed me last night… well, see for yourself.”

I showed Tim the photos that my wife had left behind.

“I get the picture. You think that you have been played, setup and conned all in one?”

“Exactly. As my wife made it clear last night, she wants everything. I’m not going to give her a penny more than what we agreed when we separated. She signed the settlement. It is not as if I have come into a whole lot of money since then now is it?”

Tim thought for several seconds.

“What is your financial state?”

I managed to get a smile to appear on my face.

“Once I have paid your bill, there is about five grand earmarked for my pension ISA. That’s it I’m afraid. Naturally, there is money in my company but much of that is spoken for in the way of taxes such as VAT and Corporation Tax.”

“In other words, she is trying to get blood from a stone?”

I managed a laugh.

“That’s about it. Yes.”

Tim thought for a moment.

“Do you know if she is living with this other woman?”

“I have no idea and there is no way that I’m even doing a drive past my old house. You know what happened the last time I went that way. She accused me of spying on her. The fact that all the traffic had been diverted due to road works didn’t cut any ice with her.”

Then I added,
“And how much did that cost me in fees to you to get her to not go to the Police and accuse me of stalking her?”

Tim nodded.

“Did she see you today?”

“I don’t think so. But I had a legitimate reason to be in this part of town. Unless she wants to get a court order stopping me from having discussions with my lawyer? I don’t see that going down well in front of a Magistrate, do you?”

Tim smiled.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do my job? You seem to know all the legal points very well?”
I laughed.

“Sorry Tim. You have your job and I have mine.”

I looked at the clock.

“I’d better go before you charge me another half hour,” I said smiling.

“I went off the clock five minutes ago so don’t worry about the cost. Your wife is a real piece of work. I know someone who cleans windows around where your old house is. If I slip him a few quid, he can keep tabs on the house and report any comings and goings.”

“That would be great…”

Tim looked at me.

“There is something else on your mind isn’t there?”

I nodded.

“It won’t be good if she starts putting those photos on Social Media now will it?”

“You are legally separated so what you do now should be of no concern to her but for some reason, she wants to keep putting the knife in.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“Let me take the initiative. Let me get a date for the Divorce to be heard in Court. As she is obviously challenging the financial settlement she has to prove that you lied in the first place for it to be torn up.”

“I didn’t lie. If you recall, I handed over my books and bank account statements to you so that it could be drawn up.”

“You did and that is perfect but I have to ask, was there any asset that you didn’t disclose to me?”

I laughed.

“I wish. Then I’d be living in a much better part of town. Since the day that you became my lawyer, I have recorded every penny… well almost but… well lets’ say ninety five percent of my expenditure is all logged. I have kept receipts to the lot. Every receipt is scanned and put into my expenses system. Even the HMRC would have a hard time finding any fiddles for the simple reason that there are none.”

“Great. Can you drop me a copy of the files? As I said, I want to go on the offensive. If I get a court date then we can be first with total disclosure. Then they have to prove that you are lying.”

“But… what about those pictures?”

“Blackmail. Perfect for a lawsuit. I’ll draw up the case and send them to you for comment. I have all her words from that phone call. She was perfectly clear in what she said. That might make her reconsider fighting us.”

“Thanks Tim, I really am glad that we met up again.”

“As I said when we met for the first time for years, I owe you big time. I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for you.”

I smiled.

We both stood up and shook hands.


Once I was back home, I retrieved all the data that Tim had requested and sent it off to him. As with every communication between us, I encrypted it. I wasn’t a computer security consultant for nothing. I texted him the key to unlock the data and went to bed.”

My wife was also an IT Expert. We’d met at an Operating System Security conference so I was not going to take chances of her having put a MITM trap in my Internet Connection. If fact, I would not put it past her to have bugged my home.

When we’d separated, I changed my phone. Not just the phone but to a different make and to one that ran a different Operating System. The old one started using a lot of battery so I got suspicious and found that a number of bits of malware had been running on it for several months. I was almost paranoid about what sites on the internet I visited and from the date on the files, they’d been loaded when I was at home. I had no proof but the only person who could have done it was my wife.

When she took my car in the Settlement, I bought an old car that had no fancy electronics whatsoever. My laptop was fully encrypted and needed not only my fingerprint but a password that changed every time I logged on. Paranoid? Yes, but now I had good reason. She had turned out to be a real piece of work and wanted me to pay for being far better at what we did than she was.

I went up to Edinburgh and began my new contract. It was hard to concentrate but after a week or so, I put the events at home to the back of my mind. It was only when I got a call from Tim that things came back into my mind.

“Hi Tim,” I said when I answered the phone.

“Eh? You want what?”

“Why do you need me in Winchester ASAP?”

“Come on Tim. Don’t bullshit me. What’s wrong? What has she done now?”

“Tim! Sorry, but I need more than that. You can’t expect me to just drop everything here and travel over four hundred miles without knowing why?”

I listened again but was not really satisfied.

I listened to some more and then said,
“Ok Tim, if you are willing to do that then I’ll come. I’ll need to clear it with the people here. How long do you need me down there for?”

“Ok. Got that. As I said, I need to speak to some people here then I’ll call you back. Give me an hour.”

Six hours later, I stepped off the flight from Edinburgh to Southampton and walked the short distance to the Railway Station. I just managed to get a London train to Basingstoke. Tim was waiting for me at the station. His face gave nothing away as usual.

Once we were safely in his office, he began.

“They have put all their cards on the table. With the court date in less than two weeks, they have to give us time to review their evidence and give us time to ask supplemental questions.”

“That’s what you said. What new revelations do they have on me?”

Tim pushed over a folder but kept a hand on it.

“It does not appear to be very good. Your wife has spent an awful lot of money doing this. Your money and that’s why she wants the lot even down to the shirt off your back.”

He let go of the folder. I opened it.

“That is a record of a bank account being opened in the British Virgin Islands by someone with your name. The next sheet shows a balance of more than two hundred grand.”

Tim carried on.
“They are claiming that you have not only hid this money from them and also from the HMRC.”

I looked at the dates and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Are they claiming that I flew to the BVI and opened the account in person?”

“Yes. They also have records of a person with your name flying from London to Miami the day before the account was opened.”

“Those dates are when I was working in Preston. It was also in the period when I didn’t have a passport. Mine was at the Passport Office or whatever they are called this week for renewal. This is fully documented in my records.”

Tim smiled.
“Let me look. I don’t know how they have missed this. They have all your financial records.”

Less than a minute later, Tim looked up from his Computer.

“What you say tallies. When was your passport issued?”

I pulled it out of my briefcase.

“Two days after the account was opened. If you look at my records you will see receipts from the period when I was supposed to be in Miami. The receipts will also show the last few digits of my credit card number. Unless I got a false passport and also got someone to take my place at my job and use my card what they are claiming is frankly total bollocks.”

Tim laughed.

“I have one other piece of news. You know that I said that I knew someone who cleaned windows in the area where your wife lives… Well he came up trumps. It appears that this Adelle character is living with your wife. Her name is not Adelle. It is Marianne Powers. I got an associate branch of the company to ask some questions at the hotel in Chesterfield where you both stayed.”

“I really can’t get my head around why she’s doing this?”

“Neither can I,” said Tim.

“Can you draft a formal question as to why the other side have decided to not abide by the separation agreement? Won’t this be asked in court?”

“It will be asked and they have to come up with a good reason. This offshore account is good enough in my opinion. Now that I have evidence that you could not have done that it is perfectly fair to ask what are they going to do next.”

“How did they get the bank statement? Aren’t these banks supposed to be really, really reluctant to give out data like this?”

Tim sat back and thought for a while. Gradually, a smile formed on his face.

“Do you want to use that five thousand you had set aside for your pension?”

“Do I want to know what for?”

“It might be preferable if you didn’t.”

“Then go ahead. I’ll transfer the money to your bank tonight.”

I took the first flight back to Edinburgh the next morning and carried on with my contract but the pending court case was never far from my mind.

Two weeks later, I was walking back to the office after getting some lunch when my phone rang. It was Tim.

“Hi Tim.”

“They want what?”

“I take it that you got some results?”

“Don’t tell me on the phone. You never know who is listening.”

“I’ll come down on Saturday morning. Can you pick me up at Southampton Airport? My flight should land before 08:30.”

“Great. See you then.”

The people at work noticed that I was a lot happier. I even got a few comments like ‘he must be going on a date at the weekend’. This was a good fillip for my morale.


Tim met me as arranged at the Airport. After a brief conversation, we headed for the Nature Reserve at Titchfield Haven which is only a few miles away from the Airport. It was somewhere where we could talk without anyone listening into our conversation. I really had become that paranoid.

We walked onto the reserve after leaving our phones in his car and began to talk.

What he told me was the bombshell that I’d been hoping for.

“The next move is to call a conference of both sides. Once this evidence gets in front of them then that will have to back down.”

“No,” I replied.

“What? What do you mean?”

“If they back down then aren’t we back to having the separation agreement and all what that entails?”

“Yes. Why?”

“They have put me through the ringer and cost me a lot of money. I want blood. I want that fifty grand back plus what you have spent getting this information.”

Tim smiled back at me.

“This is a big change for you.”

“I’ve had enough of being led up the garden path and setup and made out to be the person in the wrong. Does this make sense?”

“You know old friend, it really does.”

Tim arranged a meeting of both parties. They refused to come to his office and we wouldn’t go to theirs. Par for the course really. Tim was prepared for this and had booked a meeting room at one of those ‘rent by the hour or day’ places that seem to be in most large towns these days. They had no room to manoeuvre so had to accept. A small victory but still a victory.


There were four people in the room when I arrived with Tim. I went to say something but he stopped me.

“This is supposed to be a meeting between the two parties and their lawyers. Who are these other people and what are they doing here?”

We both knew who the two were but we wanted it on the record.

Tim’s aggressive opening caught the other side slightly unprepared.

“This is Stephanie Pearson,” said my wife’s lawyer Dianne Chambers.

“So, she’s not called…. ah yes, Adelle and you don’t live near Ipswich then?”

Marianne/Adelle went red in the face.

“What has this got to do with the matters at hand?” asked Ms Chambers.

“Your client tried to blackmail my client using photos of Ms Pearson who is obviously a friend of your client given the fact that they were holding hands when we arrived. I think the judge will not like being told of the efforts your client has gone to, to make my client give in to your sides demands.”

My wife didn’t want to look at her lawyer.

Tim carried on.

“My client has been truthful about his financial status. Unless you know different and can prove that it was him who opened this so-called account offshore when his passport had expired so it was a little difficult for him to travel to the Caribbean without one and what would he use for money? As you have his detailed records on income and expenditure I think you will see that there is no spare cash to let along fund the cost of a flight and the amount that you allege he paid into an account in his name. What do you have to say to that? Have you even examined his financial records?”

“They are nothing but lies. It is all lies!” exclaimed my wife.

“In what way is it a lie? Please explain and please show us some proof of your claims.”

“I just know that he is fiddling his income.”

“Really?” asked Tim.
“Have you reported your suspicions to HMRC?”

“Well… not yet.”

“For your information the detailed records that my client has kept for several years has been audited by a former Tax Inspector. His report is here. Read it and think again about claiming that my client is fiddling his books and hiding money from you.”

There was a deathly silence in the room.

Then my wife said,
“I didn’t come here to be insulted like this. I want everything you have ever made and will make in the future. You will be nothing when I’ve finished with you. You and your filthy habits. Dressing up as a woman! As if you could make an even half presentable woman? Never in a million years.”

“Ms Chambers? Do you want a moment alone with your client?” asked Tim.
“Oh, and you never introduced the fourth member of your team?”
He smiled.
“Never mind. I know who it is. Long time no see Paul. How’s Jenny?”

My wife and her lawyer looked at the man.

“You know this piece of worthless trash?” exclaimed my wife.

“I don’t know him but I know his lawyer.”

Tim turned to me.
“This is Paul Matthews. He’s the head honcho at the law firm that your wife is using. He’s an old family friend.”

My wife stood up and headed for the door.
“You are all against me. You are all on his side and he’s nothing more than a pervert!”

She left the room slamming the door behind her.

Marianne followed her lover out of the room.

“I think we need to reach a deal right now,” said Tim.

“I think you are right,” replied Ms Chambers.

Half an hour later the meeting was over. We had an agreement with her lawyer. It was now up to them to get my wife to agree to it. The deal meant that I’d get all the money she’d wangled from me before I got wise to her need for the total humiliation of me.

A week later, both parties agreed to all the terms of the revised financial settlement and our divorce was final. Part of the agreement was a complete financial split and there was no need for me to pay her maintenance. As she earned a lot more than I did, it was crazy for her to even want it but the old saying about a woman scorned and all that.

I went back to work a free man at last.

Life as an IT contractor moving from job to job was not all it was cracked up to be but it was better than working in the same place day after day after month after year.

I never did meet another person on my travels that interested me but that’s life isn’t it? Besides, there is always a risk that I could meet someone like Adelle again. It was interesting for a while.

What this episode did teach me was that I should really let my other side come out and not be ashamed about it. Far from it, I should be proud of who I really am.

Now that I had all that money back from my ex-wife, I had a relative amount of financial freedom so I treated myself to a weekend away en-femme.

Thus, began a new journey in my life. Who knows what lies ahead and what other ships might pass me by and get entangled in my anchor?

MITM : Man In The Middle. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Man-in-the-middle_attack

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Comments

Interesting Story.

Christina H's picture

Really interesting story up to your usual high standards.
I liked this a lot.

Christina

local places

i loved this story.

its funny but titchfield haven is only just up the road from where I live and I have a friend who lives in Eastleigh.

I have always lived in the Fareham/Portsmouth area so its nice to know that somewhere knows this area exists.

im glad that his bitch of a wife got what she deserved.

Grotspot!

I set my 'Viewpoints' round there. I also used to be a regular at the Wickham festival, held at Stokes Bay once or twice.

didn't

Maddy Bell's picture

Know that they had computers in Chesterfield! Thought they were still counting on their 6 fingers - well that's what people I know who work there tell me!


image7.1.jpg    

Madeline Anafrid Bell

Chesterfield

Don't know about their six fingers, but I always had an urge to count my own after passing through, to ensure I still had them. It was always on my route to go climbing in The Peak.

They do

or at least did.
The Post Office used to have a Data Centre there. Spent many a long hour inside it.
And I still have the same number of digits that I was born with. Now... if you were talking about Norfolk then I'd believe you. :) :)

Samantha

Hey, Norfolk is a lovely place.

Monique S's picture

Never met any mutants there either. (giggles)

Already pressed the thumbs-up,
Monique.

Monique S

It security

Sabrina W's picture

Enjoyed the story, but like learning more about security for electronic world.

TERFs

I found myself wrestling with some of the plot points. Maybe I overthink things, but several details in the whole "Ex from Hell" theme just kind of... "jumped the shark,"* and I couldn't really make sense of it. I mean, the scorned, bitter Ex theme is definitely viable, but I didn't find it fleshed out enough to work, and here she's more of a shadow villain, an unexplained malignancy. In real life, a bisexual realizing she's more gay than she thought would generally result in a more amicable separation.

But, be that as it may, I hadn't seen too many stories on this site that explore the whole TERF phenomenon, Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists, a school of thought/bias not uncommon in the Lesbian community, which I think a form of which is what we're dealing with here, so kudos for bringing that to the fore.

____
* -- A reference to a somewhat surreal shtick depicted in an episode of an American sitcom.

not a trope...

It's not so much that she's an evil ex, it's about her needing power. It's why she's so good at her job, it's why she keeps going out of her way to try to humiliate and torment him despite the agreement. She needs power over him, and he found his way around it.

I'm told STFU more times in a day than most people get told in a lifetime

Ships that pass in the night

I have a feeling there were or should have been a few Titanic jokes or maybe iceberg jokes, if I missed them I'm sorry. It was a great story with an ending I loved, its great when the victims stand up for themselves and find a way to fight back.

Time is the longest distance to your destination.

Vindictive? Most certainly

She was and the character was modelled on someone I once had the misfortune to work with for.

Thanks for all the comments on this piece. It is a totally different work from my previous one "the Guardian angel" and generated a lot more comments.... Interesting.

Thanks again,
Samantha

following along...

It's been five years since I flopped in the IT field but the information is still fresh and I could easily understand just what's going on with the two of them. I can easily see him as a networking technician who is hired to setup and upgrade computer systems across the UK, and I can see her as a highly paid consultant and/or administrator for a major corporation and able to stay close to home and enjoy the fruits of her labor. Thus, the pay division and different needs of the job. Couple that with what is clearly her need to control their relationship despite her seemingly ending it on her own by cheating(?) and agreeing to a dissolution, you have yourself a case of a woman who is out of control who finally hit a metaphorical firewall with strong anti-intrusion software.

Of course I'm talking out of my fan vent but it's striking a chord in me. Hopefully that gibberish doesn't offend you, Samantha.

I'm told STFU more times in a day than most people get told in a lifetime

Thanks

Your summary is nigh on perfect so thanks.
These are the jobs that I had in mind.
Him - Software Developer/Designer
Her - Programme Manager

I spent a number of years on the road so to speak but I would never get involved with a woman while away.
In the early 1990's I spent a lot of time in Russia and many of the hotels were still run on the same lines as they were in the days of the USSR. On each floor there was a 'manager'. You always gave them your key when you left the hotel. These managers would often arrange for a 'woman of the night' to be in your room when you returned even if you didn't ask for it. You would also get calls from other women during the night. We quickly learned the requisite russian swear words and after a while they stopped.
Not long after than we arranged for the company to rent us a small apartment rather than pay $250/night (in 1993) for a Soviet Era Hotel. That was a lesson well learned given some of the things that I saw.

Samantha

Bozo on a slim branch

Jamie Lee's picture

Mr. Haynes had to thank his tax stars that he kept receipts for business reasons that came to the rescue when needed.

It was also fortunity that his passport expired and was in the passport office when events were supposed to take place. Another item pulling his fat out of the fire.

Judging all his ex did in trying to set him up, she should stick to what she does for a living, because he did a better job documenting his where about than she did making it look like he was holding out on her. What she also neglected to consider is the possibility of the police getting involved because of what she did. Opening a bank account in his name, without his consent, could get a bank examiner involved and charges filed against her.

He was an honest businessman she tried to exhort, only to have his honesty bite her in the butt.

Funny how she thought him a pervert for putting on a dress, but it was fine for her to be dating a woman, and have that woman live with her. Some would say it's the pot calling the kettle black.

Others have feelings too.