Ahead of his Time by Adrian Cousins (read novels website .TXT) 📗

I could keep winning at the bookies was a terrible reason for hoping my prediction continued to come true.  Next to my entry of the March Grand Prix where I’d written, ‘Tom Pryce dies’, scribbled in pencil and not in my hand, was a series of question marks. Had Jenny read my book and put the question marks there? The shrill of the phone jolted me back to life. I snatched up the receiver of the push-button trim phone from the wall.

“Evening, son, been ringing you on and off for over an hour.”

“Hello Don, sorry I’ve been at a meeting. You okay?”

“Yes, I’m alright.” The phone line became muffled, although I could hear Don talking with his mouth away from the receiver, “Christopher, careful with your drink, please, Sonny-Jim.”

“Did you say, Christopher? Don, hello … hello … Don, hello.”

“Sorry, son. Your boy has got a plastic cup of squash, but he was struggling to hold it.”

“Is Jenny with you? I was wondering where she was.” At least I’d located her. Although Don was a big part of our lives, I was surprised she was there tonight. Christ, I hoped she wasn’t talking about, well – you know what.

“No, that’s why I’ve been calling you. Now look, I don’t want to come between you two, and I know something strange is going on with this Martin chap. I’m sure you’ll tell me when you can, but Jenny came around about an hour ago asking if I could mind Christopher for her and then went next door with the baby. She’s been in there with that Martin chap for over an hour. Now, son, she’s a grown woman, and I can’t stop her, but something’s wrong with that bloke. Sorry, son, I know you said he’s a friend, but he’s not right, and I don’t like the thought of Jenny around there.”

“Oh, bollocks! Don, I’m on my way.”

My mind was reeling from what was being said between Jenny and Martin as he was a loose cannon. Now I feared he was talking about me when we worked together and what a tosser I was. Then there was Lisa, oh bollocks, he would be talking about my ex-wife, and for sure everything would be relayed with a negative spin on it.

Don had positioned himself by his front window as I arrived. He caught my eye and beckoned me over. I trotted up to Don’s front door as he opened it and stepped out onto the porch, half pulling the door closed behind him.

“Son, listen, don’t go in there all-guns-blazing. You need to keep a calm head. Whatever it is you two have got to sort out, getting heated or angry ain’t the answer.”

“I know, Don. I know.”

“Alright then, son. Off you go. Christopher is happy enough, so don’t worry about him. Whatever you say and do next door, remember that lass of yours is special. Don’t lose what you have, my boy.”

Well, I would try. The events of the last fifty hours had turned my life to shite, but he was right as nothing really mattered as much as keeping Jenny. I took a deep breath and rammed the spare door key in the lock. Stepping inside, I expected to hear talking, but no, the house was deathly quiet. Concerned what the next few minutes would bring, I nudged open the kitchen door, spotting plates and cups across the table which Martin had used and left. Presumably, he’d decided he wasn’t going to wash up. “Well, mate, there’s no dishwasher available now, so you’ll have to get used to it,” I muttered.

As they weren’t in there, I glanced in the dining room and lounge and found what I didn’t expect –nothing – the house was deathly quiet. There was only the upstairs to check, but I could see no good reason for them to be up there.

“Hello,” I bellowed out to the house – nothing, not a peep – this was like the Mary Celeste.

Placing my boot on the bottom stair, I peered up and called again, but nothing. No good reason, I thought. If they were upstairs and quiet – why? Would they be in some lovers’ embrace? I had history of this.

Before Lisa and I split up, I had this very same situation when standing on the bottom step and calling out hello, receiving no answer although I knew Lisa was home. The house was not huge, and I knew she could hear me. At the top of the stairs was the family bathroom. As the door was ajar, I could see Lisa wasn’t in there, but still no answer. As I moved up the stairs, that squeaky floorboard had given her away.

Through the stair spindles, I spotted a leg disappear into what is now Beth’s bedroom. That naked leg was covered in hair with a snake tattoo above the ankle – a man’s leg, not Lisa’s. At the time, it was just a spare room with built-in sliding mirrored wardrobes and a double bed. Shocked, I’d frozen on the stairs. It wasn’t rocket science; Lisa had another man in the house who was wandering around naked. I remember feeling I really didn’t care. In fact, I might even say I was relieved, which is an odd reaction to discovering your wife has a lover in your bed, but I think it was the realisation that we both knew our marriage was over.

As I reached the top step, Lisa replied as she came bounding out of the bedroom in her dressing gown, flushed and sweating. Not being a total idiot, I took the opportunity to make her sweat a little more whilst deciding whether to punch snake-tattoo man or leave for the pub.

“Lisa, I was calling you.”

“Oh, hi, Jason. I’ve been in bed with a headache. Can you nip out and get some tablets? There aren't any in the bathroom cabinet?”

“Oh, really. I’m sorry to hear that, but I know we have some in the spare room.” 

“No, no … we don’t,