When Ben felt love for the trippie Bailey – 01

This is a story about ben falling in love with a travelling girl. Let’s begin…

It was going to be a theme running through some of my stories. You can love two people at the same time. But you have to choose.’ But I have decided to make it a series. Sometimes it’s the wife, sometimes the husband and even the lover at times. 

There are elements of truth in this story. I was in the corridor at work one day talking to one of our project managers and a work colleague walked by into the Hangar and she asked me who he was, I told her. And she said in a sort of offhand way. “I’m having him.” I thought she meant it of a sexual nature, well they’re both single and it was nothing to do with me. I’m sure she did have him that way. But that wasn’t what she meant. They have been happily married for the last 18 years. She told me later that was what she meant. I don’t think the poor blighter stood a chance.

It was like a small electric shock, I looked across the room and her eyes met mine and there was a crackle. She stepped backwards and a chap beside her grabbed hold of her to hold her up. I looked away, one of the blokes I was talking to asked me if I was alright, I said I was, I had come over a tad dizzy. I moved to the other side of the crowd, I wanted to hide.

What the bloody hell just happened was that instant love, lust at first sight, that doesn’t happen, that’s a Hollywood thing.

I could barely remember what she looked like, short curly blonde hair about 5 foot 7, not fat, not thin. Wearing a green dress that clung to her body but apart from being not fat or thin don’t ask me anything about her. But her face was burnt into my memory.

I discreetly looked around the room, but I couldn’t see her. Never mind, just get over it.

I’d been asked to give a lecture at Nottingham University about the interaction between electronic devices, how one can affect another and how good design and maintenance can prevent it becoming too much of a problem. For those that didn’t think it was a problem I gave them a couple of examples and pointed them towards the ‘ banana skins EMC.’ website.

I was at the reception for the presenters, it was a smart do, no jeans and T-shirts. Suits and ties were the order of the day. I tried chatting with my fellow presenters, we had all presented on similar themes, so we had something in common; even though we all work for different companies.

I tried to put her out of my mind but fuzzy pictures kept on leaping into my head. It was my turn for the drinks, so I headed towards the bar. Desperately trying to keep the order going round in my head. Fortunately, it was simple, just a few beers, a few lagers and a gin and tonic. 

I could probably remember that. I was standing at the bar when there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned round, there she stood. Bloody hell. She thrust a piece of paper into my hand, turned and walked away. She soon got lost in the crowd waiting at the bar. it was my turn to be served so I ordered the drinks then I looked at the slip of paper. ‘Meet me in the Olde Trip opening time tomorrow’.

I knew about the ‘Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem.’ It’s claimed to be the oldest and probably the smallest pub in the UK, built at the foot of Nottingham’s new 190 year old castle. I was due to leave Nottingham at eight tomorrow morning to miss most of the traffic going South. But I decided to go to the Olde Trip to see if I could shed any more light on what happened.

I got there at ten o’clock. Pubs open early these days. I had just ordered myself a coffee when she walked in. She walked right up to me and kissed me on the cheek like a long lost friend. That put me on my back foot straight away. I gathered myself together, I asked if she wanted tea, coffee or something stronger, she had a coffee.

We found ourselves in a quiet corner. “Why did we meet here?” I asked.

“I wanted a small place so you would recognise me.”

“I was never not going to recognise you. The imprint of your face is etched on my mind.” As soon as I said that I wished I hadn’t. She had me flummoxed and it had been less than five minutes.

“Are you OK? It was lucky that a fellow caught you before you fell on the floor. He was very quick. Do you know him?”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. That was Darren my fiancé, boyfriend, how about you? You went deathly white like you’d seen a ghost.”

“Yes, I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

Now it went silent who’s going to speak first. She did.

“I assume you felt it too?”

“I’m afraid I did, is it love or lust, what is it?”

“I don’t know, but it hurts.”

“Yes it did. What do we do about it?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“Yes I do. Nothing, I’m married. I love my wife and I don’t cheat.”

“But you met me here.” she said.

“I had to find out if you knew anything about it. But this is as far as it goes, I can’t ever see you or meet you again.”

“I’m not sure I can do that, I’m not that strong.” She said,

I had to run away, I stood up, I put my hand out to touch hers. But I decided it was not a good idea. Personal contact could change the whole situation. I wasn’t that strong either.

I looked at her and said, “I’m sorry.” And walked away. I did not look back. But I thought I heard gentle sobbing.

The drive home was enough to keep me occupied, it didn’t give me time to think of what happened. One big question, how do I explain what happened to Rosalie, my wife of five years without hurting her. We never keep secrets I would have to tell her possibly, I don’t know, maybe a little white lie. I really don’t know. There were not enough traffic jams to give me time to think, that was strange for Friday. I don’t normally want traffic jams, but one today would have helped.

When I got home Rosalie had other ideas, I wasn’t opposed to them.

We met when she was a new starter in HR, she was being given a walk around the hangar floor to see what we did. She seemed to stumble and somebody picked her up, but she looked at me and smiled. I thought she was very pretty. I had to go out to the post office at lunchtime and I saw her in a coffee shop, so I popped in to see if she was alright, she was very flushed.

We got talking and we went out for a drink two nights later. We went to the seaside that weekend and within a month we were almost inseparable. She just seemed to know what pleased me, but that didn’t matter. It was nice when she looked at me and smiled. She had big blue eyes and I fell right into them. We were married two years later. She was my heart and my soul, I could do nothing to hurt her.

Friday night was good. Saturday was busy catching up with the additional jobs I had to do, for some reason the girl was there. Nottingham girl, or Olde Trip girl as I started calling her in my head, was in the back of my mind and unfortunately every now and again she thrust herself to the front. I pushed it to the back, I would never see her again, but how do I tell Rosalie?

Sunday lunch was good, she pulled out all the stops. She picked a piece of beef. It was tapered. I like it rare, she likes it well done. So, I sliced mine from one end and hers from the other, we compromised on the bit in the middle.

There was Cauliflower cheese, Yorkshire puds and pigs in blankets, which was strange as they are all my favorites. There was a nice bottle of wine with a cork, not a screw cap. She even put on a dress, brushed her hair how I like it and put a bit of makeup on. There were just the two of us. It was very nice but I got worried. What was all this for?

We had dinner. It was good, we stacked the dishwasher together. She grabbed the bottle of wine off the table, looked at me and said. “Are you here with me today?”

“What do you mean?”

“Several times I’ve seen you looking into the sky, something is bothering you. What happened in Nottingham?”

When Ben felt love for the trippie Bailey – 01 will continue in the next page.

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