Friends or Lovers

Commissioned by Social Exchange Ltd

Rory Ridley-Duff

Friends or Lovers

For every man who has lost love, and every woman who can’t find

it…

Penny Leyton is one smart sexy woman on her way to the top. Bridget

Jones she certainly is not, but she has the same chaotic approach to

romance. Just as she is breaking through the glass ceiling, her boss

Dave Stockton hints at a workplace scandal. Ablaze with moral

outrage, Penny realises too late that one of her own friends is

implicated and that she is part of the problem. Can she untangle herself

from a hidden web of intrigue and save herself?

Dr Rory Ridley-Duff is an author, composer and university lecturer

whose research established how friendship, courtship and parental

interests shape behaviour in organisations. His interest in gender issues

and workplace democracy evolved out of directorships in worker

cooperatives and 15 years of consultancy work in the social economy.

www.roryridleyduff.com

“Anyone who cares about love will give this book to their partner or

spouse, sister or brother.”

Dr Poonam Thapa

Gender, Culture and Sexual Health Expert

Also by Rory Ridley-Duff

Emotion, Seduction and Intimacy: Alternative Perspectives on Human Behaviour

“Rory‟s work is insightful and helps to redress some of the

imbalances in the feminist theory of patriarchy while

simultaneously introducing the concepts of gender and intimacy

to the subject of enterprise governance”.

Professor Phil Johnson, Head of HRM and Organisational Behaviour,

Sheffield University

“Rory is a man who has deliberately chosen the left-hand path of

progress. He does not shun the moral maze of human desires

and passions but brings greater understanding to that very facet

of life – the forbidden fruit that made us fall from grace and its

role in our emancipation.”

Dr Poonam Thapa

Gender, Culture and Sexual Health Expert

Available from Amazon.co.uk

Copyright © Rory Ridley-Duff, 2009

All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this

publication may be made without written permission except as

defined below.

No material may be reused except in accordance with the provisions of

the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, or under the terms of any

licence permitting limited copying issued by the Copyright Licensing

Agency, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London W1T 4LP.

Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication

may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Rory Ridley-Duff has asserted his right to be identified as the author of

this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents

Acts 1988.

Published by:

Rory Ridley-Duff

4 Rosehill Close

Penistone

Sheffield

S36 6UF

Social Exchange logo designed by Natasha Ridley-Duff

Acknowledgements

The people who made this book possible are numerous. Firstly, I‟d like to

thank Caroline, my wife, for the enormous patience and support she has given

to my writing aspirations. It is every author‟s dream to have someone with

whom they can freely discuss ideas, draft chapters, propose story lines, and

who will also check their manuscript for errors and support them through lean

times. For these and many other reasons, you are still my dream woman.

To family members and life-long friends who did not spare my feelings in

their feedback on early drafts, you have my enduring thanks. Your comments

were invaluable and I trust you will spot your influence in the end result. To

my children, Natasha and Bethany, you have been a constant source of

inspiration and the best antidote to loneliness that any writer could ask for.

This book tackles a sensitive subject and I am indebted to many research

participants and work colleagues for the insights they have provided over the

years (whether intended or not). This book is fiction but without undertaking a

series of workplace studies, this text would never have seen the light of day or

come close to the reality of working life in early 21st Century Britain.

To my muse in business, Poonam, I thank you for helping me find moral

courage when everyone around me thought I was mad or hopelessly naïve for

writing this novel. Our conversations about the human condition will remain

with me always.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 1

“So, Mike,” I said, “why have you been bothering Elona?”

He looked so unconcerned that it made me slightly irritable,

but that is not something that you show in this job. Calm,

confident, concise – look him in the eye.

“It‟s nothing, just a misunderstanding. She wanted to discuss

something private so I asked her if she‟d like to go for a drink.

She said „no‟. End of story. It‟s no big deal.”

“Not to you, maybe. There‟s been a complaint.”

“She‟s never said anything about it. If she felt uncomfortable,

she never showed it. And yes, we‟ve been close at times, and

sometimes I think she‟s tried to flirt with me, but I‟ve always

been careful.”

Mike looked uncomfortable now. His eyes looked around the

floor. The frown on his brow was more pronounced. Time to

give him a push.

“Bit of a tease, was she?” I said with a laugh.

“No, that‟s not what I‟m saying. I‟m not making out she was

„up for it‟ or anything crude like that. I just never got any sense

that she didn‟t like the way I behaved.”

Yes, Mike was traditionalist all right. To him a „bit of fun‟

probably included the occasional trip to a lap-dancing bar or

shagging in the toilets. To Elona, it was a different matter. Still,

Mike was moderately bright, had worked his way up through the

ranks, landed himself a regional sales management job and

probably felt he was enjoying the best years of his life. He was

married and fancied himself a bit too much, if you ask me. He

prided himself on being „friendly‟ but I just found him a creep.

He was 50, one of those „pretty boys‟ who does not realise that

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they are past it. God, was he past it! He had aged well, I guess,

but too old for me – definitely! And he really irritated me when

he shared dirty jokes with his friends but never with me. I could

see right through him. He was certainly not my type. Not my

type at all.

I‟m fairly new here. Nine months into my first job as Head of

Personnel. In my previous job I‟d been fast-tracked to deputy

director but came up against the glass ceiling. To progress I had

to move. I guess the sexual revolution has helped a bit. Twenty

years ago this company would not have contemplated me in this

position. Many of my management colleagues are women too.

I can see that men have it harder in some respects, but the

patriarchy seems alive and well. Mike is proof enough of that. I

would not call myself a feminist, but I‟m not averse to a

confrontation with the occasional unreconstructed man,

particularly in the company of like-minded female friends.

It can be quite a laugh making a sexist-pig squirm.

So, here we are. Mike the macho, sales rep of the year four

years ago, now leading a successful team but getting angry when

one of his administrative staff won‟t go for a drink with him.

Married with children, probably bored at home, still wanting to

resurrect his youth and put it about. Not quite as straightforward

as some situations I‟ve faced because he has a good reputation

and is well liked. I think, perhaps, I‟d better check with my boss

before I do anything here.

“Mike. Leave it with me for the next 24 hours, I‟ll look into

this and get back to you. In the mean time, steer clear of Elona.

She‟s a bit sensitive at the moment. Boyfriend trouble, I think.

Come see me tomorrow and we‟ll wrap this up.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Mike did not look relieved at these comments and mumbled

something I could not hear. He shook my hand. His eyes met

mine and he fixed his gaze for just a second then looked away.

He had never struck me as a formal sort before.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 2

“He‟s done what?” asked Dave, my director.

“Not completely sure, but it clearly looks like he‟s got the hots

for Elona. I hear he‟s not been a paragon of virtue in the past.

This does worry me. Elona‟s upset. I can‟t let this rest.”

I liked Dave. Unlike most men, he engaged with women as

equals and was sympathetic to many of the problems they faced.

I could happily spend time in his company in the office or away

on business. He enjoyed working with me but was careful never

to overstep the mark or make me feel uncomfortable. He was

not much older than me, and I knew that he was ambitious too.

We shared a professional ethic and modern outlook.

“Well, this isn‟t easy. Mike‟s good – his team like him. But I

agree we can‟t let this pass. Zero-tolerance and all that! What‟s

right here, Penny?”

I was not sure whether the question was rhetorical but as no

more words were forthcoming I gathered my thoughts.

“As far as I‟m aware this is the first such complaint against

Mike. I don‟t think he should be sacked, but we should move

him. It‟s fair to Mike and it„ll send a strong message to the rest

of the company that it won‟t be tolerated.”

Dave looked at me thoughtfully for several seconds.

“Do it sensitively, Penny. Okay?”

I nodded.

* * *

Innovation Centre Ltd was modern and dynamic. Dave was

„Director of Business Development‟ and spent his time seeking

out creative types and developing relationships with them. He

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found inventors, got them to commit their products to us then

helped them obtain development grants. Over the last decade,

the Innovation Centre – or IC as we call it in-house - has created

a network of 60 inventors and a catalogue of wonderful gadgets.

As for me, I did the „women into business‟ thing a few years

back. They were dishing out bursaries to encourage graduates

into management. I thought I may as well get myself an MBA -

couldn‟t see what harm it would do - and now I understand all

that talk of returns on investment, nett present values and can

put together a business plan. I still prefer the „relationship‟

thing, however, and decided to specialise in human relations

work.

Dave has a penchant for that too. He looks smart, speaks well

and is incredible at building trust. He mentors me and I

appreciate that. Of course he‟s taken – most guys like him are –

and he now has a young child that he rarely sees. I remember

that he wistfully joked once that IC not only wanted its pound of

flesh but also insisted that you hand it over with a smile. Much

as I like him, he is „strictly business‟. I‟ve read my share of

self-help books, but avoid the ones called „How to Find the Man

of your Dreams at Work”. They‟re fine for those who want to

give up work when they find their prince, but for me they‟re a

heap of crap.

My friends joke that I am a model of the Cosmopolitan

revolution – vibrant, smartly sexy, intelligent, able to live

independently, but go out on the town and get a shag if I want

to. I have my share of paranoia about my looks, but even so I

am a bit of a man magnet when I wear black. I‟ve worked hard

for my career. Workplace relationships might put that at risk.

Most men are bastards anyway, interested only in sex, football

Friends or Lovers

and drinking. I do boyfriends, but only until they want me to

cook them a „special‟ meal or wash their clothes. I lived with a

guy once but soon felt like his mother. I dumped him. Since

then, I‟ve taken my pleasure carefully and on my own terms. It

seems to work for me.

* * *

“Thanks for dropping in, Mike,” I said showing him to a chair.

“I‟ve had a chat with Dave and Elona about the situation and

I‟ve a suggestion for you.”

Mike looked at me and nodded to indicate he was ready. I

can‟t say that I like this side of my job, but it goes with the

territory and you have to harden yourself to it.

“We think it‟d be a good move for you to join Direct

Marketing. Same salary, same status. It‟d mean travelling

more, of course, and working with a new team. They‟re a bit

wet behind the ears, so we want someone with lots of

experience.”

Mike looked blankly at me for a moment. “Carry on,” he said

quietly.

“It‟s a new project. Another feather in your cap.”

“Cut the crap, Penny,” Mike interjected, “I wasn‟t born

yesterday. I‟m taking the flak for Elona, aren‟t I?”

“Well, we need a solution to that too, and this provides one.”

“And what if I don‟t take this position?” he asked.

“That‟d create a problem,” I said firmly. Our eyes locked and

his hand moved up and rubbed his chin, then around the side of

his head as he pinched his ear-lobe.

“Can you give me until Monday?” he asked.

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“No, Mike, I‟m away in France next week. I can give you „til

4 pm. If you need to talk to your wife then take the day off, but

I don‟t want this hanging around while I‟m away.”

“She‟s working.”

“Can‟t you call her? Meet her for lunch?”

“I‟ll try. Penny...” he hesitated. He was trying to say

something, but I could see that he was struggling to find the

words.

“What is it, Mike?”

“This…” his eyes looked up at the ceiling then down at the

floor. His awkwardness was palpable but no further words came

out.

“If that‟s all, Mike, I have to go.”

I got up from my seat and felt his eyes burn a hole in me. He

was not a happy man.

Mike called me back later that day and accepted the new job.

It is never easy giving someone a sideways move but it has to be

done sometimes. The hardest thing is protecting someone‟s

dignity while sending a message that some behaviour is

unacceptable. In some ways, I feel sorry for Mike, but the world

is changing and the type of behaviour he is responsible for is no

longer acceptable to either men or women. I do have a

conscience. I was able to protect his income. He can‟t really

complain. His family is still safe. The problem is sorted and

Elona is protected. I get a small amount of satisfaction that I

can contribute to changing the values of society and make the

world slightly safer for women. If I have to clip the wings of a

man who sets a bad example then it feels like a job well done.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 3

France was fun, but hard work – a two-day conference. If I go

to these events with Dave I feel obliged to spend time with him,

but this time I was on my own and had the chance to really let

my hair down. If there is one thing I enjoy about going away on

business it is the freedom I have in the evenings. At home I

might bump into a neighbour or colleague from work. But

abroad, I can either lock myself away in my hotel room and read

a good book or slip on a sexy outfit to indulge myself at

conference parties.

This time I did both. First night I snuggled down with a

Bernice Rubens novel. The second night I decided to dress up

and take my chances at the conference party. After relaxing in

the bath, I shaved, moisturised myself with assorted oils, and

applied a dab of Clinique near my ears, wrists and breasts before

setting off to await the chat up lines. It was a dull evening.

The best approach I got all week was not at the conference. He

must have been at least ten years older than me and at the

boarding gate I saw him reading what looked like a textbook.

Our eyes met briefly a couple of times. He was casually dressed

in jeans and a black top. I studied him. He had dark brown hair

with touches of white. I guess he was around 45 but still had a

hint of the handsome features of his youth. He had definitely

aged well. His eyes were brown and there were wrinkles

stretching from the outer corners across both temples. Clearly

he was a person used to smiling and laughing. They were nice

eyes, kind but sexy. When he cast them in my direction, I could

feel them undressing me. Usually that pissed me off, but not

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today. He was not bad, I thought. A pity he had not been at the

party the night before.

When we boarded the plane, I manoeuvred myself into the

queue just in front of him. My bum looks good in jeans so I

ensured that he got a good look at it by bending down to tie a

(non-existent) shoelace. It seemed to have the desired effect

because five minutes later I was in a window seat and he sat

down next to me. He continued to read his book until the plane

took off but then started to look across me out of the window.

As the plane rose higher and higher, he continued to gaze at the

buildings and roads below.

“Flying always makes me feel humble,” he suddenly remarked.

“You look down there and you realise just how insignificant you

are.”

He looked straight into my eyes and held my gaze for a

second, and then he smiled. All the lines at the corners of his

eyes creased. Definitely nice eyes. I instinctively smiled back.

He held my gaze long enough to let me know he liked the way I

looked, then without another word he resumed reading his book.

From then on, I noticed his every move. He was reading

intently, underlining phrases that caught his imagination.

Sometimes he would sigh, and at other times he frowned. After

a while he let out a laugh.

“A comedy?” I asked.

He turned to me again and smiled.

“Of sorts,” he remarked showing me the title of an article he

was reading. I obliged by reading it out.

“The impact of sexuality on group dynamics: a symbolic

interactionist perspective.” I paused for a moment and then

quipped, “Some comedy!”

Friends or Lovers

He looked carefully at me and nodded in agreement.

“Penny,” I announced, “thirty-something manager from

Warwickshire.”

“John,” he responded, “forty-something consultant from

London.”

There was that smile again. This time I held his gaze for a

little longer to let him know I liked the way he looked.

“A consultant, eh! In what field?” I enquired.

“Behaviour,” he responded.

“Are you in my line of work?” I asked, hoping to dig a bit into

his background.

“And what line is that?”

“Employees. I‟m an HR manager.”

“Partly, I guess. I sometimes work with HR people. I would

guess they read my work sometimes….”

“You‟re a writer?” This was getting better and better.

“Well, I write, but I‟m not a writer. I mean I don‟t write for a

living; writing is a by-product of my living.”

“Very enigmatic. So, what is it you do?”

He paused.

“I challenge the way people look at themselves and each

other,” he said guardedly.

“In what way?” I was genuinely curious.

“Well….I might help men to look at women differently, or

women to look at men differently.”

“So are you a relationship counsellor? A sex therapist?” As I

said the word „sex‟ I placed just enough emphasis on it to ensure

he knew it was a flirt.

“Only to my wife!” he joked, acknowledging my interest and

deflecting it at the same time.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“You‟ve got a wife?” the words came out so fast that I kicked

myself.

“Yes, and kids,” he immediately answered.

He continued without any trace of embarrassment while I

wanted to shrink into my seat. If my cheeks had coloured up, he

convinced me that they had not.

“Some of my clients think of me as a pain in the arse.”

I was tempted to make another flirty comment, but resisted.

“Why?”

“Well, let‟s see. You‟re in HR, right? You must have an

abundance of „knowledge‟ about men and women.”

The way he said „knowledge‟ was weird, like a challenge. Did

I detect the hint of mockery?

“As much as the next person, I guess.”

“Oh, more than that, surely? It is your job to know about men

and women. You must be acutely aware of their typical

profile.”

“Of course,” I said with a smile. “Woman are made of sugar

and spice and all things nice while men are made of slugs and

snails and puppy dogs tails.”

He smiled.

“We don‟t have long enough to discuss that one! Okay. A

taster only. Let‟s take something outside your everyday

experience. Let‟s think about the army.”

“The army!” I was genuinely surprised. “Your assumption is

right. Khaki never was my colour and I don‟t like getting dirty.”

“You disappoint me,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“What about the army, then?” I asked, brushing aside his

comment with a smile.

Friends or Lovers

“Well, it may not be fair. I usually ask this question at the end

of a course,” he said.

“Aha! The million pound question!” I said. “Can I ask the

audience?”

“Well, it‟s your opinion that really intrigues me,” he said.

I liked that. It was flattering to think I intrigued him.

“Okay. Here‟s your question. „What‟s the most sexist thing

about the army?‟”

What an odd question, I thought, and it made me pause.

“Fuck! Where do I begin?”

Where would this lead? I turned over half a dozen arguments

in my head – the army is, after all, an organisation created by

men, staffed largely by men with the purpose of keeping men in

power. However, I didn‟t want to spoil a promising

conversation by saying this. I started to offer less controversial

suggestions.

“Bullying, raping and abusing.”

He looked at me kindly.

“That‟s three things,” he said with a wry smile.

“I saw a documentary some time ago about women in the

army. Some had to put up with dreadful abuse. I had a

girlfriend who was in the police, and she talked of similar things

happening to her. I imagine the army is even worse.”

“Bullying, rape and abuse happen to men as well,” John said.

I felt nervous and my right hand instinctively went to pinch my

ear lobe. I found it difficult to look him in the eye while I

thought.

“Can I phone a friend?” I teased.

“All mobiles must be switched off during the flight,” he said

with mock severity.

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“What‟s the most sexist thing about the army?” I repeated

quietly to myself. “It‟s not a trick question, is it?”

“Not at all. But it‟s a thought provoker, don‟t you think?”

In a way it was and I kept looking for the way he wanted the

question answered rather than the way that I would have

answered it myself. That, I felt, was the real thought provoker.

“You did ask!” he said with a laugh.

I wasn‟t going to be put off that easily, so I thought some

more.

“Women soldiers get raped….men don‟t.”

“Male soldiers get raped too, usually when in enemy hands,”

said John.

I was genuinely shocked to hear that.

“God, that‟s sick.”

“Indeed.”

“But it‟s not the same, surely?” I retorted. “I mean, a woman

is always going to feel more violated, more powerless.” Even as

I said it, I wasn‟t sure that I was making sense.

“Maybe. Have we asked the men how they felt about it?”

I paused. He was probably so practised at fielding answers to

this question that I was on a hiding to nothing so I looked for a

way out.

“I can‟t say I‟ve given this much thought.”

“You wouldn‟t be alone in that.”

“Bit of a depressing subject,” I added and shot him an irritated

look that hopefully did not cross the boundary into rudeness.

“You‟re right. And I wouldn‟t want you to remember me as

the depressing old git who spoiled your flight home.”

“Don‟t get me wrong. It‟s food for thought,” I replied

somewhat apologetically.

Friends or Lovers

“But not a very sexy topic. Not nearly as sexy as your perfume

….”

I laughed before I could stop myself.

“Hey, married man! Should you be talking to me like that?” I

snapped back ensuring my eyes caught his again.

“But it is sexy. Are you asking me to lie to you? I thought

women hated liars….”

“Perhaps you should be a bit more choosey about the things

you say.” I said these words with a smile that reassured him

that his compliments were very welcome.

“Okay, what should I say to a young woman like you?”

It was not what he said that induced butterflies, but the way he

looked at me as he said it.

“Less of the „young‟, please,” I said coyly. “I‟m old enough to

gobble you up.”

“Hmmm. Nice thought. I can see that I‟m going to have to

watch you!” he chuckled.

“Watch me? I think you opened up this…..er…..line of talk.”

I was enjoying this.

“Do you like to open up?” he asked inquisitively.

“Yes, but only with strangers,” I quipped.

“Then I‟d better not get to know you too well, had I?”

Whatever I had expected on the journey home, it was not this.

I was not sure whether to invite him to join the mile high club,

or punch him in the balls for being so cheeky. I felt that perhaps

I should not be encouraging him to continue this conversation

but there was something magnetic about him and I found myself

energized in his company. I wanted the conversation to

continue. It was one of those moments where I could have

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stubbed out the fire before it got too hot but chose to fan the fire

instead.

Our banter continued. He talked fondly of his wife, Ann, and

children. By the time we landed I felt like I‟d had a brief tour of

his life. He was an academic turned marketing consultant, who

specialised in work with creative teams. He‟d been married for

20 years, survived a few ups and downs, and had two children

he loved deeply. His boy was 12 and his daughter 14. For a

living he helped companies educate men and women to improve

their marketing skills. Our flirting gave way to convivial

conversation but as I found him both engaging and interesting I

did not care so long as it continued. As our descent into

Heathrow started, I took him back to the start of our

conversation.

“So what is it you do exactly?”

“I just told you,” he said pleasantly.

“Exactly,” I stressed.

He thought for a moment.

“I try to find another way to look at human relationships.”

“And what way is that?” I added, continuing to dig.

“The way they really are.”

The brevity and simplicity of his response made me pause

again and he used the moment to spring another surprise on me.

“Would you like to meet up for a drink next week?”

“What about your wife and kids?” I said with a hint of

sarcasm.

“My wife knows me well. I don‟t hide my friendships from

her.”

Friendship? That was a quite a leap in such a short space of

time and I was taken aback. It was not just his forwardness that

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caused me to stop short, but also a sense of disappointment that

his aspirations were not a little higher. He saw my hesitancy

and I felt a burning need to say something, anything.

“You‟re a most unusual man and while I‟d like to go for a

drink, I don‟t think it would be sensible….”

He nodded his head, but did not look disappointed.

“Just thought I‟d ask. How about swapping e-mail addresses?”

I smiled. He was hard to resist. I gave him my personal e-

mail, rather than work.

“Okay,” I found myself agreeing before I could stop myself.

“I can pretend that we met at the conference.”

“Do you need to pretend?” he inquired without a trace of

mockery.

As we swapped cards I felt a pleasant sensation that was rare

for me. I‟d flirted with quite a number of men over the years but

I‟d never really cared whether they liked me or not. With John

it immediately mattered to me that he liked me for more than my

womanly charms; I actually found that I cared what he thought.

As I drove away, I could not get him out of my mind. When I

reached home, I chucked my bags into the corner of my

bedroom, went through my winding down routine and settled

into bed. I continued to think of him as I allowed my fingers to

work their way down into my pants.

I let a story unfold in my mind. His eyes moved over me,

greedily consuming every inch of my skin, and his hands moved

slowly across me tantalising and pinching my nipples, caressing

my stomach, then slowly pulling down my knickers. With one

assured movement his mouth latched onto me and began to

knead my flesh. My head and body arched as the pleasure rose

within me. Here was a man who knew how to make a woman

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feel good all over. I focussed all my thoughts on his delicate

firm tongue circling and massaging until every nerve ending in

my body sizzled and my heart pounded so loud that I heard it

thumping in the dead of night.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 4

On my return to work I found that Mike was now complaining

that his salary would drop because his team would earn no

commission until the direct marketing operation was up and

running. I asked one of my staff, Phil, to find out the unresolved

issues and discuss them with me at the end of the day. This

gave me time to cast my eye over some of the mail I had

received.

There were several memos about recruiting regional organisers

for the new home catalogue. Our approach was to recruit people

with school age children who could use their local networks to

recruit others (usually mothers) to go door-to-door. Just like

Avon, really, but specialising in a much broader range of

gadgets, not simply beauty products. The marketing manager,

Jo, wanted specialist training for her team on consumer

behaviour. None of this was new, just a variant on previous

recruitment campaigns. We advertised in the local press, short

listed people, and then interviewed them at a hotel. Those that I

liked would be invited to our headquarters in Leamington Spa

for an assessment day, where they would have a second

interview with Jo.

After spending the morning organising the following week‟s

meetings, I turned to my e-mails. Despite the efforts of our IT

department, junk mail still got through and I weeded this out as

quickly as possible. There were offers of Viagra and penis

enlargers as well as selection of links to web-sites for dating rich

men or a quick shag. I found most of these distasteful but they

were becoming commonplace and whatever we did the problem

still increased.

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I dealt with a couple of e-mails from friends wanting to know

if I‟d had any conference adventures and I responded with the

cyberspace equivalent of flouncing my hair. There were several

messages from Dave wanting to set a meeting to discuss what

I‟d learnt in France so I arranged a follow up session for

Monday. Lastly, there was a message from someone that I did

not immediately recognise:

From: j.t.simons@tascali.com

To: penny@hotlips.com

Subject: Drinking with women?

Penny,

Had a word with my wife. No probs if you want a drink.

John

My god, he‟s e-mailed me already. He must be keen. I hit the

[Reply] button:

From: penny@hotlips.com

To: j.t.simons@tascali.com

Re: Drinking with Women

Hi John,

To think that you are so willing to corrupt a sweet innocent girl like

me….. Who are you playing verbal tricks on today?

Penny

Even though I knew that I had more pressing tasks to do, I kept

wondering if he was going to reply. Every time a new e-mail

arrived, I felt a sense of expectation disturbing me. The hour

seemed to drag.

Penny,

Isn’t it your turn to teach me some tricks…?

John

Friends or Lovers

Good. He likes to play.

John,

Tricks? Well, I can walk on my hands (always goes down well in a

beer garden when I’m wearing a summer dress without knickers).

Can you do that?

Penny

While I pondered whether this was too risqué, habit caused me

to hit the Send button. Bugger. Too late. And the bastard made

me wait over an hour for a reply.

Penny,

Which? Wear a summer dress, walk on my hands or lose my

knickers?

John x

Ha! He‟d added a kiss! What was he trying to say? I started

to wonder whether he‟d really asked his wife about me or

whether it was just a trick to put me off my guard. Every time a

voice inside me warned me to be cautious another told me to be

daring.

John,

I’ll come if you wear a kilt. We can shock some genteel country folk

by doing handstands together….

Penny x

Not much chance of him accepting on those terms, but at least

I get to kiss him back. This time he replied quickly.

Penny,

Hmm! Tempting, very tempting. But unfortunately I don’t have a kilt.

I think my wife has one from her Scottish dancing days, but she’s

petite and it won’t fit me. Do you have any that would fit me?

John x

Rory Ridley-Duff

The cheeky bugger! He‟d mentioned his wife again. Better

back off for now.

John,

I’m a big girl, but not that big….. Looks like we are going to have

to postpone that drink for the time being.

Penny x

I hoped that I‟d not pushed him away too quickly. After 30

minutes, the joy I‟d been feeling drained away. After 45

minutes, I felt a mixture of annoyance and regret. What was I

playing at? Were we flirting or joking? I was not sure.

Whatever my thoughts, they had to be put on hold because Phil

entered the office and sat down with a large sigh. He‟d clearly

had an eventful meeting with Mike.

“Okay, hit me with it,” was my starter for ten.

Phil was a good lad. He was young and hard working, bright

but inexperienced. He had good grasp of psychology (always

useful in this line of work) and had recently graduated with a

good degree. He was personable too, the pick of an excellent

bunch, and with careful guidance I could see him going far. For

now, however, he had to learn how to do the donkeywork and

that meant devising and running the administrative systems I

needed.

“Do you want the good news or bad news?” he asked.

“Good news first, please,” I replied.

“I think I‟ve found the people to fill the vacant positions in the

marketing team.”

“That‟s good. So what is the bad news?”

“You‟ve got three vacancies in Mike‟s old team.”

“Shit!” I exclaimed. “What‟s he playing at?”

Phil settled back in his chair.

Friends or Lovers

“Not sure. Not sure he‟s playing at all. The moment I arrived

in his department I was collared by three of his sales reps. They

were pissed as hell at Mike being moved.

“Well, they would be, wouldn‟t they? The old boy network

will naturally stick up for him. Don‟t worry about it.”

“It‟s not the men – it‟s three of the women. They want to

move with him.”

How weird, I thought! Perhaps he weaves a magic spell that I

don‟t know about yet. I nodded to Phil to carry on.

“It overlaps their territories so they‟re confident they‟ll build

sales quickly. They all fit our desired profile. Their sales

records are pretty good. Two have school age children and the

other has grandchildren. All have contacts from previous sales

jobs. They want to work with Mike.”

“Hmm. What about Mike‟s money concerns? Did he raise

that?” I asked.

“Well, he said that he‟ll accept the temporary drop if these

three can join him. I get the feeling that he‟ll quieten down if he

gets his way on this, or prepare for battle if he doesn‟t. What

d‟you want to do?”

“Leave it with me. I‟ll check with Dave. Sounds okay to me.

Anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. I‟ll keep you posted. Thanks. Are you off now?” I

asked.

“Not yet. Few things to round off.”

Phil was good. He had no problem working for a woman and

we got along well. He was fresh out of college, part of a new

generation that accepts the way the workplace is changing.

Rory Ridley-Duff

I sought out Dave to confer on the latest developments. He did

not immediately jump at the idea and rubbed his chin in thought.

Something was disturbing him. He asked if recruiting three

salespeople for Mike‟s old team would be any more difficult

than recruiting for the new one? I thought not. The job

information we sent out would be slightly misleading, but I

could explain the changes at interview. The differences were

not so great that we needed to worry. The starting salary would

be the same. Dave finally agreed but as I left he said something

that set off alarm bells.

“Mike may become a problem. Find out more about him - it

may come in handy.”

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 5

Back at my desk I started to wind down for the night. I locked

away sensitive information and tidied my desk. Before logging

off, I retrieved my e-mails to see whether there were any final

issues to deal with. I‟d forgotten about John, so it was a surprise

when another e-mail from him appeared in my inbox.

Penny,

Thanks for playtime. It was fun. I hope we can enjoy more banter in

the weeks to come. Before that resumes, however, I want to give

you the chance to walk away if you wish. You are an attractive

woman. I like you. In saying that I don’t want you to read more into

these comments than is in them. I love my wife. I love my kids. I

have women friends and I’d like you to be one of them. If I flirt it is

because I think you find it fun too. But enjoying a mutual attraction

does not mean I’m going to make a pass at you (that will have to

remain a fantasy).

If you are okay with this, then we will become friends. If you are not,

then I still have a pleasant memory of meeting a smart and sexy

woman. That is a lovely thought to keep in my head if that is all you

want to give. My wife does not usually interfere in my personal

friendships (unless she feels threatened) and we have become

much more relaxed in recent years. Our relationship is a strong one.

Hope to hear from you soon.

John x

Who was this guy? His arrogance pissed me off. Fuck him.

That evening I settled down with my Bernice Rubbens again.

Try as I might, I could not concentrate. Mixed in with my anger

was a spine-chilling excitement that I could not shake off. What

had he called me? “Smart and sexy.” “A Fantasy.” Why does

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he tell me he won‟t make a pass at me? Why not? Bastard. No

guy has ever talked to me like this.

The hours passed and still I could not read my book. I put on

music, but I did not listen to it. I tried to watch a film but the

moving images were just a backdrop. Slowly it dawned on me

why I‟m angry at him – he dares to resist me. He dares to resist

me. And that realisation had a strange effect. My thoughts kept

returning to our e-mail exchanges. He makes me laugh, no

denying it. He‟s fun. He‟s intelligent. He‟s sexy. I must stop

thinking like this. He‟s too old for me. He‟s married. He‟s got

kids. He‟s got “ups and downs” in his life. Maybe he is just

after a fling. Don‟t trust him, Penny. Play it cool.

The word „danger‟ keeps forcing its way into my thoughts but

my mind wanders back to his eyes. The prospect of looking into

them thrills me. Why do I want to trust him? I never trust men.

As I lay in bed, the minutes ticked and questions invaded my

thoughts, circling around like vultures gnawing at old wounds.

Why does this hurt? Don‟t let him in, Penny. Don‟t let him in.

By 2am, my eyes finally got so heavy that I dropped asleep. For

a few hours I was free of the conflict raging in my soul.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 6

Following my conversation with Dave, I asked Phil to find out

more about Mike. I told him not to be too obvious - to start by

finding out what he could from members of his former team as

unobtrusively as possible. Naturally, he quizzed me.

“I‟m still concerned about Elona‟s complaint,” I said. “I want

to be sure that there is not a pattern to his behaviour.”

“If I start asking about him, won‟t they start wondering why?”

“Just spend time with them in the canteen, get to know them,

see if they talk about him. If they do, then join in the

conversation. Just take an interest.”

Phil looked awkward. His eyes looked at the table while he

rubbed his chin. As he looked up, he scratched his nose.

“What am I looking for?” he asked.

“Nothing in particular. Just see if you can find out about him.

I‟m trying to build a picture, not find out dark secrets.”

He rubbed his hands together, and his brow still showed a

frown. I remembered the first time that my manager asked me

to keep my ears and eyes open. I too felt awkward because I

had initially imagined that work was conducted in the way

described in study texts. When you experience the real world,

of course, you find there is this whole other world that no-one

talks about. Much as I wanted to focus on recruiting the best

people and developing them to their full potential, we have to

work within management objectives and commercial

constraints. Whether I like it or not, we are part of the

management team and that means we bend to their wishes.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Phil, I understand how you must feel. Sometimes we have to

do things that are not pleasant. The worst thing you might have

to do one day is make people – decent people – redundant. If

you stay in this profession, you‟ll learn how awful that can be.

At other times, you may suspect that someone is acting more in

their own interests than those of the business. When that

happens, we sometimes need to be circumspect in finding out

what we can. It is a very difficult job and we can only find out

so much by asking people directly. I‟m not asking you to spy,

just keep your ear to the ground and mix in certain circles when

the opportunities arise.”

He looked at me briefly and smiled, but the lines on his

forehead never totally disappeared.

“Okay. I‟ll see what I can find out.”

“Good man,” I said and I felt my body relax. I smiled strongly

at him, got up and walked towards the door. Phil got up slowly

and made to leave. As he passed me, I put my hand on his

shoulder and reassured him. “You‟ll be fine. If you‟re not,

come and talk to me.”

With Phil gone, my mind turned back to the task I‟d been

putting off. I knew that I must reply to John, but did not relish

the task. Even though I‟d thought about it all the previous

evening, I was still not sure what to say. One thing I am sure

about - I want to keep in touch with him. The problem is how to

do that without ending up in a “situation” where I get hurt.

Words and phrases keep going around and around in my head

but no concrete sentences form. It is just a drink, I keep telling

myself, but I cannot forget that nearly every relationship I‟ve

had with a man gets complicated. One that I lived with, despite

having a lovely side to his character, ended up taking me for

Friends or Lovers

granted. I don‟t want to mother my partner; I want him to look

after me. There have been others that I adored for a short while

(and who adored me) but as soon as they started talking about

their goals in life, I felt them threaten my own. One wanted me

to move with him to London just after I‟d started this job. I

wouldn‟t go and the relationship ended. Why am I thinking like

this? It is just a drink, after all.

As much as I keep trying to convince myself that he only

wants friendship, I cannot shake off the idea that going drinking

with a married man will lead to problems. If I get close to him,

will he make a pass at me? Why will this one be any different?

And if he did, would I be able to resist him? Perhaps this is why

I am so nervous. I don‟t want to be a mistress. I have to write

something so I create an e-mail and stare at the screen. My

fingers start to type:

John,

Tell me about your marriage. How strong is it?

Penny

I hit the Send key before I realise that he might take this

question the wrong way. While contemplating my gaff, a

message appears in my inbox.

Penny,

Strong enough for you not to worry about it.

John

I had hoped for a fuller explanation than that. No kiss today, I

notice. Perhaps my question irritated him. At times like this, I

tell myself to follow my head. What does my head say today?

I listen carefully to my thoughts; there is danger here, to myself,

to his marriage and children. But there is potential too. What if

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he is how I hope he is? It will be a pleasure to know him.

Could he become a friend I can trust and talk to like my father?

But what if he turns out to be a creep? What will happen if I

start to love him? I can‟t deny my desire to meet him or the

thought that if I turn this opportunity down I‟ll always ask have

the question “what if..” I will never answer any of my questions

if I don‟t get to know him. As one of my school friends used to

say to me “life is not a dress rehearsal”.

John,

I accept. When would you like to meet?

Penny x

In for a pound. Later that day, he e-mailed me back to ask if

I‟d meet him in Leamington the following Wednesday. He

could stop by as he was working in Birmingham then staying

with friends in Warwick. With that out of the way, I relaxed and

focussed better on my work.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 7

With the week coming to an end, I finalise arrangements with

interviewees and then decide to check on Elona. She is quite

young, in her mid-twenties, and works within sales

administration. She‟s been with the company since leaving

school and is well-known about the place. I‟ve only met her

half a dozen times or so since joining, twice due to her recent

complaint. I want to check that she is happy with the way we

have dealt with it so I decide to read over her file and recent

appraisals.

She is a single child, the daughter of local shopkeepers. When

she was in her teens, she worked in the shop with her parents

and saved enough money to go to college for two years. She

lives in Kenilworth, a small town about 7 miles away. Nice

place. In her interview notes it says that she led a relatively

sheltered upbringing due to her parents‟ ties to the shop.

Holidays have been few but she does have good friends in the

local community. She has a boyfriend – her fiancé - who she

provided as a second emergency contact. They hope to buy a

house together soon but each live with their parents at the

moment.

Her career at IC has progressed fairly smoothly. She started in

a typing pool seven years earlier. When it was disbanded she

took on a series of clerical jobs, including a stint in customer

services, but eventually felt her attention to paperwork and

maintaining filing systems was being under utilised. In short,

she wanted something more challenging than a continual stream

of phone calls. The move to sales administration, therefore, was

a good one for both her and the company. Her knowledge of

Rory Ridley-Duff

order processing together with customer skills equipped her for

a trouble-shooter role in which she dealt with customer

complaints.

By all accounts, she appears to be a reliable hardworking

employee. So I called her and asked her to drop by. Fifteen

minutes later, we were sitting together in my office having a cup

of tea.

“Hi. Glad you could come. Do you take sugar?” I asked.

“No. Thanks. Hmmmm. That‟s very welcome,” she said

taking her first sip.

“I won‟t take much of your time – I‟m sure you want to get

away like me. I want to check that you are happy with the way

we have dealt with your complaint.”

Elona looked slightly puzzled, but smiled and settled back in

her chair a bit.

“Yes. Very. It‟s the first time I‟ve seen anyone in this

company take a complaint like this seriously,” she commented.

“Good. I‟m glad I‟m making a difference. The directors

want this company to follow best practice and I‟m here to make

sure that happens.”

Elona‟s comment made me feel good on the inside. I

continued boldly and directly.

“Elona. One of the directors wants to be sure that Mike‟s

behaviour is not part of a pattern. Had you ever been concerned

about his behaviour before you made the complaint?”

“Me? Well…” she hesistated, “…sometimes I felt

uncomfortable around him. He‟s very friendly – too friendly if

you ask me – and he does seem to be very attentive to some of

the women reps.”

Friends or Lovers

Elona stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts. She

rubbed the back of her neck and crossed her legs.

“They didn‟t seem pleased with me when they came in for a

meeting yesterday. I heard later that they were leaving my

section to stay with Mike. They always speak highly of him and

he‟s always joking with them. I find it embarrassing sometimes.

He treats them almost like they are his daughters. They seem to

like it, but I don‟t. I don‟t like it when men are too familiar with

me, put their arm round me and things.”

“Things?” I asked.

“Well, you know…” she said.

“No, Elona, I don‟t know. Tell me?” I said firmly.

“Well sometimes, especially if we‟re down the pub after work,

they go too far.”

“How?” I asked.

“They put their arm round me like they would their girlfriend

or something. I don‟t like it.”

“Does Mike do this?”

“Not often. Sometimes. The younger lads are worse.”

“How exactly?”

“Well sometimes their hands go down my back, and sort of rub

it. It‟s too familiar, but I feel stupid if I say „no‟ because

everybody seems to be okay with it. One of them sometimes

puts his hand on my bottom and squeezes it. I don‟t know what

to do, so I do nothing.”

This seemed like „normal‟ behaviour in most companies that

I‟d worked in but that did not make it okay. Clearly Elona was

more shy than most. Others would have to be sensitive. I

decided to dig a little more deeply; I adopted a more

woman-to-woman style.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I guess it depends whose got their hand on your behind, eh?”

I said with a furtive look.

Elona tensed and was unsettled by this remark.

“What do you mean?” she replied as she shuffled in her seat. I

detected a touch of embarrassment in her behaviour.

“I was just saying that perhaps some blokes‟ attention is nicer

than others?”

She rubbed her ear and her brows came together as she spoke.

“I don‟t understand what you are implying, Ms Leyton. I have

a boyfriend and I only like him to touch me like that. I don‟t

want other men doing it.”

Ms Leyton? A bit formal, I thought. Still, I could see she was

agitated so I took another approach.

“And quite right too, Elona. I‟m glad we had this talk.”

I smiled strongly at her as I drew the conversation to a close.

“It seems that we have a few more heads to knock together,

doesn‟t it? If anyone does something that you don‟t like, tell

them straightaway. Can you do that?”

“Yes. I‟ll try.”

“Do you have a diary?” I asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“If you‟ve asked someone to stop and they continue to touch

you in a way that you don‟t like, make a note in your diary. Can

you do that too?”

“Sure.”

“And if you feel the need, come and see me. Okay?”

She seemed to relax.

“Okay,” she confirmed.

After Elona left the room I pondered her behaviour. Her

defensiveness suggested she was hiding something. I wondered

Friends or Lovers

if she was receiving more attention than she was saying. I‟ll

discuss with Phil before I depart on Monday. Clearly we will

need to work on this problem together.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 8

I live on the outskirts of town in a two-bedroom flat. It suits me

for the moment, although one day I‟d like a house with a garden

that I can tend. I take some pride in my home. Although I live

on my own, I‟ve worked hard to shape it in my own image. Last

year, after I was accepted in this job, I splashed out on a wooden

floor and cream leather sofa. I always work hard to make my

living room the most welcoming one in the house. Over the

brick fireplace I have some ethnic artwork. On the wall either

side are two African masks, each with different tribal markings.

At ground level, I have large vases with dried flowers that give

some colour and texture next to an attractive gas fire. The

mantelpiece supports two tall candles in wrought iron holders

and a number of stone carved nightlights. When I settle down

with a box of chocolates and dim the light, the candles give the

room a romantic sexy feel.

On the opposite wall, I have a photo of my younger sister,

Carole. She is 30, two years younger than me, and has made her

career in teaching. At the moment she is on maternity leave, her

first child with boyfriend Chris. I think he‟s a bit of dope – she

does too – but since their son was conceived he‟s taken his job

(as a computer programmer) more seriously. Recently he got a

promotion to project analyst and is now supervising others for

the first time.

Next to Carole is a picture of my parents on their 40th

wedding

anniversary. Considering their generation, they had children

quite late. After meeting at university they wanted to travel the

world together for a while. They had decided that if they still

wanted to be together after living in each other‟s pockets for two

Friends or Lovers

years, they‟d do it for life. And so it has been. When they got

back, they each established their careers, got married and had

children. My mother, like my sister, is a teacher; she will be

able to retire next year. My father, however, still has two years

before he can retire. He is a civil servant who rose through the

ranks to lead a unit that answers parliamentary questions.

Sometimes he gets to prepare answers for TV. He even gets to

write answers for the Prime Minister sometimes. Fame of a sort,

I guess. I‟m proud of him.

My father is the kindest man I know but I have had a prickly

relationship with my mother ever since I turned 14. At that

time, I grew close to my sister and we stayed that way ever

since. We now call each other every week, sometimes we write

e-mails to each other and swap humorous cards. A few of these

hang on a pin board in my living room. My favourite card is…

Men have only two faults

Everything they say

And everything they do

…although I also like another one that says “Grow your own

dope: plant a man”. My sister sent these to me when she was

having difficulty getting her boyfriend to settle down with her. I

ask if we will hear wedding bells soon but the most optimistic

response she‟s given so far is “Next Year: probably.” What is it

about men and commitment? Even though she‟s been with him

for three years now, many of our phone conversations still dwell

on “man problems”. I keep telling her that we are better off

without them, but she holds out hope that eventually they‟ll get

married. Forlorn, I reckon, but hope springs eternal where she is

concerned.

Rory Ridley-Duff

My bedroom is a mini-paradise. The focus is my pinewood

king-size bed with a deluxe duck feather duvet and pillows. I

don‟t have a regular fella to keep me warm at night, so a

sensuous bedroom equipped for lingering self-pampering is one

of life‟s essentials. I have a built-in wardrobe and dresser – a

present paid for by my parents when they helped me buy this

place four years ago. They know how I like to adorn myself, so

the dresser came with an array of drawers to hold all my

paraphernalia: lip gloss, selections of lipsticks, nail varnishes

and eye shadows (which I use only on special occasions). Either

side of the mirror is a raised area for an assortment of bottles;

moisturisers, facial scrubs, make-up remover and spot sticks.

Jewellery is in one of my side drawers; organised into earrings,

belly bars, necklaces, bracelets (wrist and ankle), and a choice of

rings for fingers and toes. The other side draw holds my

collection of lingerie, carefully selected so that on the rare

occasions I think enough of a man to invite him back, I can

make him think that he‟s gone to heaven early.

The headboard is decorated with subtle white lights, and on

each bedside table I have one of these new cylindrical lights

with slow moving silver flakes that refract light. When I go to

bed, I switch out the main light, switch on the bedside lights,

and watch the patterns that meander around the room. Wrapped

in my duvet, I feel deliciously erotic, a sensual and very

personal love nest, just perfect for fuelling my fantasies when I

feel like playing with myself.

The kitchen is small but functional. The work units and oven

are built in so there is a reasonable amount of workspace and

cleaning is easy. I don‟t have space for a washing machine so I

still do my laundry down the road. It gets me out of the house

Friends or Lovers

and I can chat to Betty who does the service washes. She gives

me the latest celebrity gossip. When Big Brother hits our

screens we chat about it each week and I invite her around my

flat to watch eviction nights.

* * *

“Hi sis‟”

“Hi Carole. Good week?”

I enjoy these chats with my sister.

“Not bad. He‟s sitting up now and he‟s a lot happier because

he can look around. I give him a toy with a bell on it and he sits

there shaking it and laughs for ages.”

“If only adults were as easy to amuse…” I commented.

“Chris has raised the idea of using his flexi-hours to spend

more time at home. I don‟t know, I‟m not sure about it. In

some ways it‟s good to have him home, but he just makes more

work for me.”

“Can‟t you train him better?” I ask. This has been a standing

joke ever since she started going out with him.

“I try. I try. He is trying too, bless him. He can change a

nappy now, but baby refuses to be fed by bottle. He actually

gets upset that he can‟t feed his child. I reassure him that as

soon as he starts on solids then he‟ll be able to get in on the

action.”

“He sounds keen,” I interjected.

“Yes. He is. Quite sweet really. Just wish he could cook then

he‟d be really useful to me.”

“Nothing on the matrimonial front, yet?”

“Haven‟t raised it for a while, it just creates tension. How

about you?”

Rory Ridley-Duff

This is another standing joke - my inability to find any man

worthy of me.

“No, nothing to report there. But I did meet an interesting man

this week on the plane back from France.”

“Tell me more….” Carole quipped.

“He‟s married, got kids, so that‟s a no go area. He was keen to

meet me again so we‟ve agreed to meet up next week for lunch.”

“Hey you. Sounds like he‟s a fast worker, and you‟re giving

him a big green light.”

“No Carole, it‟s not like that.” No sooner had I uttered the

words than I realised how stupid they sounded.

“Oh, yes?” she asked.

“No. He‟s most odd. I can‟t explain. He burned my ear with

all this stuff about sexism in the army. Like I say, he‟s an odd-

ball.”

“So, why are you meeting him?”

It was a pertinent question.

“Oh. I‟m not sure. He has lovely eyes. He is a practiced flirt.

He‟s intelligent, a consultant, a writer.”

“You‟re smitten. I can tell.”

“Oh don‟t say that Carole. I have no idea whether I‟m doing

the right thing and you know what I‟m like with men. But he

seems different. I want to satisfy my curiosity.”

“And your libido?”

“I don‟t think so,” I said weakly, but I didn‟t even convince

myself so I doubt that I convinced her.

“Go for it, I say! You only live once.”

We are so alike.

“Yeah! I‟ll call you in the week; let you know how it goes.”

“Too right you will.”

Friends or Lovers

“Say „hi‟ to mum for me if you talk to her.”

“I will. Stay cool.”

“Bye sis‟”

And with that, we both put down the phone and returned to our

very different lives.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 9

My weekend was fairly typical: shopping, cleaning, reading,

relaxing and sleeping. Living on my own, I have the pleasure of

buying in exactly the foods I wish, watching only the television

that I want to, and getting up when I like. I can also avoid

having my house systematically trashed by boisterous kids

(although I imagine it won‟t be long before my nephew will

oblige). Not having a man about the house also helps in that

respect; most men who I let into my bed think that the corner of

my room has an invisible linen bin placed there. There is a

constant battle to train them to put their clothes in a bag ready

for them to take away when our romantic interludes are

concluded. No way am I going to start washing their clothes.

But I can‟t deny that there is loneliness too. I still can‟t get

used to going to bed by myself and I especially miss the

pleasure of waking up next to someone, snuggling up to them,

and sharing my thoughts and feelings. I don‟t always feel safe

on my own. Despite the façade of strength I present at work, if

the doorbell rings on a dark winter evening I use my spy hole to

check who‟s the other side. If it is a man I do not know – and

sometimes even if I do – I don‟t let them in. I particularly hate

having workmen in the flat during the day.

One thing that only women can understand, I think, is the

silent fear we have of violence. Breaking up with a man is

traumatic because you never know how he‟s going to react.

Some withdraw into themselves and skulk off; but with others

you can visibly see their bodies convulse with anger.

Sometimes I get really scared. So far none have hit me, but my

sister was not so lucky. Her last boyfriend punched and kicked

Friends or Lovers

her when she ended the relationship. Sitting with her, looking at

her bruised mouth and eye, holding her hand while she sobbed

like a young child, watching her shrivel with humiliation as she

admitted to a nurse how she received her injuries; that‟s an

experience that‟ll never leave me.

By Sunday, I‟d done my chores so I took myself off to the

Malvern Hills for a walk. It was a pleasant day, warm for April,

and I was able to remove my jumper and wear just a tee-shirt

and shorts. Walking gives me a wonderful sense of freedom;

time and space to think. At the moment I wonder whether my

life is going in the direction that I want. On the surface it looks

very fulfilling; good career with responsibility and the chance to

travel; two circles of friends (inside and outside work) that

balance each other and provide good times and support for bad

times. I have a nice home and neighbours; a family I can see

when I need (far enough away not to crowd me but close enough

to visit the same day). I‟m sufficiently attractive to be able to

enjoy male company more or less whenever I like, so why do I

feel so empty?

As I walk on the brow of the hill I look north towards

Worcester. The houses on the plain are as tiny as an architect‟s

model and the specks that move slowly along the motorway

look like matchbox cars. The wind buffets my face as I stand

like the French Lieutenant‟s Woman; an isolated and desolate

beauty searching the wilderness for something in life that will

make it more meaningful and satisfying. In my mind, I recall

John‟s comment that looking down on the world reminds us of

our insignificance.

Am I significant? Do I make a difference? Have I had a

positive influence on the people I‟ve known? I wasn‟t sure.

Rory Ridley-Duff

I‟ve been hard on boyfriends who would not make a

commitment to me, but perhaps it is me who is avoiding

commitment. The life I have is safe, and I have many things

that give me pleasure, but deep in my heart I‟m still quite lonely.

Even when I‟m shacked up with a man, I still feel lonely.

Family and friends are great but there are limits to how I can

be with them. If my parents knew how I behaved sometimes

they would probably die with shame; I can‟t show them the real

me. I even hide my feelings from my sister. My deepest need;

the desire to share myself physically, emotionally and

spiritually, cannot be satisfied with any of them. In fact, I‟m not

sure there is anyone with whom I can do that. Why is it that the

greatest source of pleasure is also the source of so much fear and

pain?

As I resume my walk I cannot help but notice that most people

are walking with someone else. Husbands walk with wives

(lovers or friends, perhaps). Parents walk with children. Rarely

do I see two women or two men walking together; the hills are

filled with people who have come to terms with sharing

themselves with another. I don‟t think I‟ve shared myself fully

with anyone. I‟m too afraid.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 10

I‟m in Leeds today. The interviews went off as well as could be

expected. I found a man and woman; both married. Both with

children in the 11-15 age range and extended family support

(that‟s usually necessary in this line of work). There was a

single woman with previous direct sales experience and good

family support so I think we have found the people we need. I

also interviewed a single man who had won custody of his

children. He too seems to possess the necessary enthusiasm and

skills.

At the moment, I‟m driving back to meet John. I can‟t help

but feel excited even though I know this is not an appropriate

way to feel. I have George Benson playing “Lady, Love Me

One More Time” on the CD player and this fuels an expectation

that lunch will be the start of a romance. I keep reminding

myself that this is an unrealistic (and unhealthy) way to be

thinking but the butterflies in my stomach won‟t go away, no

matter what I do. We e-mailed each other over the weekend and

agreed to meet at Pizza Hut. As I enter the outskirts of town, the

clock shows there are only 50 minutes to go and my breathing

deepens and lengthens as my nerves start to intensify.

“Stop it!” I shout. “Go away!” but ranting makes no

difference. I wish I didn‟t feel like this. I shouldn‟t be meeting

him. But I keep driving towards the town centre, turn right into

an NCP car park, watch the barrier rise, see the front of the car

turn to the left and climb the levels. The car parks itself as if

I‟m on auto-pilot. I try not to think and focus on getting through

the next few minutes.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Find the exit. Go down the stairs. Turn left. Now right.

Along the high street. Look in the shop windows. Check my

handbag. Where is my lippy? Look in the shop window. Apply

evenly. Press lips together. Turn left. Continue. Go to

cashpoint. Press 7725. Enter. Choose “Cash no receipt”. £50.

Wait for card. Take the money. Turn left. Walk. Open the

door.

“Penny! There you are.” The moment I hear his words I come

out of my trance.

I take off my jacket and sit down, look at him and smile. My

hair was washed this morning and tied back into a ponytail.

Around the eyes, I applied a modest amount of eye shadow and

liner; a subtle shade of blue (just enough to emphasise my long

black lashes without looking trashy). Studs with a light blue

jewel adorn my ears and a matching necklace drapes around my

neck. I‟ve put on a white top – thin enough to give a hint of the

lace bra underneath – styled into a „V‟. The necklace is long

enough for the jewel to draw attention to a hint of cleavage;

classy but not tarty. All this elegantly covered by a light purple

trouser suit that hugs my figure. There‟s no harm in showing

off my pert behind and womanly curves.

“You look good. Thank you.”

“Thank you?” I ask. What a surprising remark!

“Yes. Thank you for making the effort to look nice. I

appreciate it.”

“Just my normal work clothes,” I say with false modesty.

Inside, I‟m not only pleased I‟ve made an impression but also

delighted that he‟s noticed. I can feel myself beginning to relax.

He has turned up wearing an unironed tee-shirt and jeans with

a hole in one knee. But his hair looks freshly washed and there

Friends or Lovers

is a day‟s stubble giving him an undeniably rugged look. I like

it.

“I see you dressed up for me too…” I say cheekily.

“Yes. I carefully ironed the creases into the shirt and hired a

tailor to give my trousers that deliberate „just torn‟ look.”

“Does your tailor get much business from you, then?” I quip.

“Lots. Especially before I go on holiday. I need an exclusive

casual outfit for each day otherwise my beach cred is seriously

damaged.”

“Perhaps it will catch on in Hollywood?”

He laughed and looked deeply into my eyes. All the nerves

that I‟d felt were swept away. I felt comfortable and content.

“So, did your interviewing go well?” he asks.

“It did. Shortlisted four people, including a single father,

would you believe?”

“Only just,” he jests.

I settle into my seat and look at him more closely. I still don‟t

know how old he is, but in the daylight I guess he‟s a bit

younger than I first thought – somewhere in his late 30s. His

face has worn well and his hair shows only slight signs of

greying. The lines at the corners of his eyes only display when

he smiles; when he‟s relaxed they disappear.

“Tell me,” I say boldly, “how old are you?”

“Forward aren‟t we?”

“Oh, yes! I don‟t beat about the bush.”

“I‟m 44,” he says without any embarrassment. Then he adds,

“I use my wife‟s Nivea every day. Good on the wrinkles.”

“She keeps you young, obviously.”

“Yes. Very energetic woman. I have to work hard to keep up

with her.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Given that we‟d moved onto the subject of his wife, I felt we

should dwell there a bit.

“What does she do?”

“She‟s a linguist. Translates government documents from

English to French to German and back again. It suits her.”

“Not out and about like you, then?”

“She prefers a quieter existence where her opinions are not the

subject of public scrutiny. She saves her strong opinions for our

marriage and children.”

“Strong minded?”

He says nothing. He doesn‟t need to; his smile and nod say it

all, including that he admires her.

“So!” he says. I could sense a question coming. “Want to try

something I do on my courses?”

“Why not?” I answer.

“Your life in 5 minutes. Can you do that? Then I‟ll give you

mine.”

“Okay. Here we go. Born, age 0, in Malvern where I grew up

with my teacher mother and civil servant father. Warm loving

home for the first dozen or so years. One sister who is two years

younger than me; now with child and dopey boyfriend. She‟s

also a teacher but currently on maternity. Age 13 onwards I

became a bit of a rebel, fell out with mum, always closer to dad.

Politics became liberal. Did radical bit at university. Protested

the Gulf War (the first one). Shouted regularly at politicians,

got angry with men; attended women‟s groups; got angry with

women. Started to like men more. Tried a few. Started to like

men less. Chose career instead. Developed well, manager at 29

but stumbled across the glass ceiling. Now HR manager in a

growing firm. Relatively happy modern career woman. Likes

Friends or Lovers

chocolate, exercise, walking, nights in with cat. Eastenders.

Frost. No Angels. Friends. Sex and the City – shame it has

finished. Now 32, usually fine, sometimes lonely.

I stop.

“How about you?” I quickly ask.

“Wow!” he injects. “All in one breath?”

I laugh out loud. This is fun and I am enjoying myself.

“Right. My turn. Born in Hampshire; same age as you funnily

enough. Artist mum. Marine engineer dad who died when I

was eight. Very sad but coped okay. A rebel until age 13, then

calmed down. Lots of freedom. Lots of responsibility. Two

sisters. Both older. One works in a women‟s refuge; the other

lectures in some obscure social science. Went through the

football craze. Went through the basketball craze. Went

through the „girls‟ craze. Did my extremist bit at university.

Protested the Poll Tax; refused to pay it. Missed first Gulf War

demo. Flirted with radicals (both ideologically and literally).

Went off radicals. Always liked women. Tried a few, fell in

love with one. Married her. Did a masters, then PhD. Worked

in academia. Tried real world. Went off real world. Returned

to research. Had kids. Loved kids. Hated kids. Loved them

again. Started writing. Got hired as a consultant. Liked kudos,

the pay, the freedom. The portfolio life is for me. Hobbies

include walking, Mexican food, romantic comedies, flirting and

friendship – but in reverse order.”

He stops and takes in a deep breath to replenish his oxygen

supply.

“I think that‟s the best exercise I‟ve had all day,” he adds.

A waitress stands at the end of our table ready to take our

order. We both laugh in unison and I look at her.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Could you give us a few more minutes?” I ask.

“Would you like any drinks while you are thinking?”

Her voice came out in a monotone as if it had been pre-

recorded.

“Decaf coffee, please,” I request.

“Cappuccino?” asks John.

“I‟d afraid the machine‟s broken, sir. Is a normal coffee

okay?”

“Of course,” he answers politely.

As soon as she went, he leans over towards me and speaks

quietly.

“I think someone has placed a contract to sabotage all

cappuccino makers worldwide. Wherever I go they never seem

to work.”

* * *

As we chatted away, we were joyous and smiling. He felt like

an old friend, not a new one, and I was drawn more and more

into the conversation.

“So what have you been doing in Birmingham?” I enquired.

“Helping some marketing recruits find new ways to look at

men and women.”

“And did you succeed?”

I was actually interested this time and he could sense this. His

demeanour changed and took on a more relaxed and thoughtful

expression. As he started to speak, he started to gesticulate.

“These things take time. People have many preconceptions;

some well-founded, others not.”

“Such as?”

Friends or Lovers

He thought for a moment. I could tell that he was selecting

one from a great long list.

“That men are instinctively more violent than women.”

“Is that well-founded or not?” I asked, feeling that I knew the

answer already.

“Difficult to tell,” he replied surprisingly. “It depends on

whose data you look at.”

“But we all know that men are more violent that women.” I

affirmed. I could feel a sprinkle of alarm go through me

because I could sense he was leading me into a trap.

“Perhaps.” But he sounded sceptical.

“In the 70s and 80s,” he continued, “lot of studies suggested

that men were more violent than women in personal

relationships. Then some people started to ask whether the

research design was distorting the results. Researchers started to

ask both men and women, not just women. The results were

surprising and not what you‟d expect. In the last few years there

have also been findings that children raised by single fathers are

less violent that those raised by single mothers.”

“You are joking! I don‟t believe you. It‟s everywhere. You

see it all the time. In the papers, on TV. Men are definitely

more aggressive and violent.”

I thought of my sister and my body felt tense all over, but John

continued calmly and reassuringly.

“There‟s a growing body of research now. Over one-hundred

and seventy studies in the last three decades disagree with you.

I don‟t understand why. It‟s my job to make sense of reliable

data.”

“The studies must be biased.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I can‟t rule that out. But the results are consistent across

different industrialised countries, different age groups, different

social environments, and have been conducted by people from

different research backgrounds.”

“I don‟t believe them.”

“You‟re not alone,” he said with a smile.

I stopped for a moment. I was in deep shock. At that moment,

the waitress returned. She had an impatient look on her face.

John and I looked at each other and this time we didn‟t laugh.

We both picked up a menu, quickly found something we liked

and ordered.

“Thank you,” said the waitress. I‟m sure there was a hint of

sarcasm in her tone.

John looked at me supportively.

“We don‟t have to talk about this if you don‟t want to,” he

said.

“No it‟s okay. I am interested. It is just hard to accept.”

“Of course.”

“Explain. I know you are going to try.”

“I can‟t explain it – this is very new data to me too and I need

time to reflect on it.”

John paused.

“D‟you remember „Wait „Til Your Father Gets Home‟?” he

suddenly asked.

I thought for a moment. Yes, I remembered a TV series with

this name. What is meant by this phrase? I looked at John with

curiosity.

“Dad is being used to threaten the kids. Is that your point?” I

asked.

Friends or Lovers

“Not sure. I think it is about Mum making Dad responsible for

discipline. That happens in my house too. My wife sometimes

says to me „John, they won‟t listen to me. Make them go to bed,

will you?‟ I‟ve managed to avoid smacking so far, but

sometimes they dig their heels in and I come very close. I have

threatened it once or twice. I hate doing it – I feel like I‟ve

failed - but what d‟you do when kids won‟t respond to

anything?”

I was beginning to see his point. The threat is only effective if

the kids fear Dad.

“Maybe we use Dad as a weapon because he is more scary,” I

said.

John paused for a moment. He was forming his thoughts on-

the-fly as well.

“Maybe we use Dad as a weapon whether he wants to be scary

or not,” he answered speaking directly from the heart.

“When I think about this,” he continued, “you see it

everywhere. I‟ve seen girls say „leave me alone or I‟ll get my

dad onto you‟ or they might say „I‟ll get my brother onto you.‟

Even my female students used to say that they‟d play dumb or

frightened to get their brothers, fathers and boyfriends to do

things for them.”

He paused.

“Now I come to thing of it, there have been times when my

wife says „are you going to let that man talk to me that way?‟”

John became immersed in thought again and I watched him

struggle to put his thoughts together.

“I‟m not sure any more that men choose to be aggressive,” he

said finally.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Maybe,” I answered, “but the issue for women is that the

threat is always there. The threat is enough. We‟re never free

of fear.”

“Yes. I‟m sure you are right. But it is double-edged, isn‟t it?

On the one hand we want men to be violent for us but we don‟t

want them to be violent against us.”

We both paused. Instinctively, we both realised we‟d had

enough of this. That moment, our starters arrived. He‟d ordered

potato skins, and I was eating chicken dippers. After that, we

shared a stuffed crust with extra mushroom and chicken.

“What‟s your work like?” he asked.

“Okay. Busy at the moment. Tricky situation in one

department. We have a man who has been pressuring a young

woman for a drink. I‟ve had to move him. I don‟t understand

all the ins and outs, but he‟s done this before and the young

woman was so upset that I had to separate them. I‟m trying to

find out more because something peculiar seems to be going on.

The woman is holding something back. I‟m not sure exactly

what.”

I stopped myself.

“John. I‟m not sure it is appropriate for me to talk about this.

You understand?” I said.

“Yes. Completely. But I‟m under no such obligation. I have a

friend who felt a young woman was getting too close to him.

She‟d been having some difficulties at home and she singled

him out as a father figure to talk to. He only became worried

after she started to flirt a bit. He tried to cool it off.”

John looked at me in a way that suggested he did not know

whether to carry on. I raised my eyebrows, nodded and then

Friends or Lovers

tilted my head slightly to one side to indicate that he should

continue.

“He suggested they meet outside work to sort things and made

it clear that he was providing her support as her manager and not

asking her out on a date. She backed off and was hurt. Next

thing he knew she‟d complained about him.”

“It‟s always complicated, isn‟t it?” I said.

“Yes. Always. A minefield.”

He held my gaze. We both knew exactly what the other was

thinking. We had our own minefield to navigate.

I said softly….

“…we‟ll have to tread very carefully…”

He nodded and also spoke softly.

“I don‟t want to tread on any mines.”

“Me neither,” I responded.

Men and women talk to each other in such oblique ways. I

could have said “I‟ll be very sensitive about your marriage”. He

could have said “I don‟t want to ruin this by sleeping with you.”

But, no, we danced around each other using metaphors hoping

the other would understand, protecting our egos while leaving

the door open just in case we both had a change of heart.

“We‟ll be fine,” he asserted.

I hoped he was right.

After coffees, he paid, but only after I made him promise that it

would be my treat next time. We both agreed there would be a

next time in about a month. We swapped mobile phone

numbers too. When we parted, we hugged. As I walked back to

my car, I felt good. I hoped that I had found a friend – a real

friend.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 11

When I returned to work, I met Dave to discuss the interviews,

then confirmed the final shortlist. I got Phil to phone all the

candidates and give them the news. Four accepted an invitation

to our offices for the following week. The assessment centre

uses an array of techniques to provide a more rounded picture of

a candidate‟s suitability for a position. They undertake a

psychometric test, participate in role playing exercises, we

introduce them to teams that undertake similar work to give

them a flavour of the „real‟ workplace, and also to give the

teams a chance to evaluate the candidates in a less formal

setting. Lastly, there is a formal interview that asks a series of

technical and social questions that enable us to probe their

experience and handling of social situations.

Even with all this care and effort, recruitment is a hit and miss

affair. More than once, we‟ve found our perfect candidate only

for them to decline the position at the last minute. At other

times, those that were marginal in the recruitment process turn

out to be the best performers. I‟d like to better understand why

people decline, but I‟m confident that we‟re reducing the

recruitment lottery through the use of these techniques.

After I rounded off with Dave, I called Phil into my office for

an update on Mike.

“Have you been able to find out anything?” I asked.

“Some. Not quite what I expected, but interesting

nevertheless.”

“I chatted to Elona too. Anyway, you first?”

“Okay. Nearly all his team talk highly of him. I found them a

good deal more open than I expected. They are sad that he‟s

Friends or Lovers

moved on, particularly the women. It sounds like he had a

reputation for not putting up with any nonsense, but was also

sympathetic and supportive when his staff had problems. A

couple found him a bit „old school‟, you know, polite and caring

to women and a bit rougher and more argumentative with the

men, but they all respect his abilities as a manager and as a

salesperson.”

“Did you pick anything up about Elona? Were he and Elona

close?”

“Yes and no. People liked her well enough but they found her

a bit quiet. She worked closely with Mike – that went with the

job. They were always working together to resolve customer

issues. Some didn‟t mention the complaint – in fact I got the

impression they didn‟t know about it.”

Phil stopped talking for a moment and had a puzzled look on

his face, then he gave out a slight laugh.

“I can feel a „but‟ coming….,” I said.

“Those that knew she had made a complaint were surprised.

Some said they were shocked because they thought the two got

on extremely well. They wouldn‟t elaborate, and I felt that it

wasn‟t the right time to probe.”

I decided to share what I found out.

“Elona told me she felt uncomfortable socialising with her

team. Mike, and some of the younger men, touch her and make

her feel uncomfortable. I still think there is something going on

that we don‟t know about.”

Phil paused. He rubbed his chin and touched his eyebrow

before making several attempts to start speaking. Finally, some

words were forthcoming.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I agree…..something didn‟t feel right but I can‟t put my

finger on it.”

“What about Mike‟s marriage?”

“Ah! Yes. He did have a rough patch a couple of years back.

I think they sensed at this point why I was taking an interest.

They clammed up a bit. I got the impression that they were

saying „don‟t go there‟.”

“Interpretation?”

Phil was hesitant, but I pressed him.

“Tricky. Nobody said it out loud, but I would hazard a guess

that he broke up with his wife for a while.”

I shared something that Dave had told me.

“I‟ve heard that too. He got close to Sally, one of the sales

reps, and his wife kicked him out for a while.”

Then Phil said something that shocked me.

“Yes – I gathered that much and I‟m sure I spoke to her.”

“Why d‟you think that?” I said with genuine surprise.

“Sally‟s attitude to him was so different from the others. She

spoke about him almost like….”

He rubbed his chin vigorously as he sat thinking. He was

searching for words.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“….a cross between a brother and a lover….No. I don‟t know.

There was such a familiarity in the way she talked about him, as

if they had spent a considerable amount of time together outside

work…..”

He paused again and I was starting to get a little frustrated.

“Come on Phil, spit it out.”

Friends or Lovers

“Well. I got the feeling that Sally had lived with him for

while. So far as I can see, he still lives with his wife. I just

can‟t work it out at the moment.”

“Hmm. Okay. Keep your ear to the ground, I‟ll see what I can

find out my end.”

After Phil left my office I pondered what I‟d learnt. What do I

know? Firstly, Mike asked Elona out for a drink. Secondly,

Elona is upset. Thirdly, Mike admits that he put his arm around

her, and when he admitted this he was definitely agitated. We

now know that Elona has been troubled by over attentive men at

social events and that she‟s hiding something. Fourth, Mike had

an affair with a sales rep, his wife kicked him out, he lived with

the rep for a while, his wife forgave him and he moved back in.

What I find hard to understand is why his team is so supportive

of him. Am I missing something? Why would the women put

their jobs on the line to move with him? Why is his ex-lover so

supportive? I think I should talk to Mike again – it is only fair

to let him tell his side of the story.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 12

“Hi. Come on in, Mike,” I said with a welcoming tone.

He did not look relaxed so I tried to put him at ease.

“Mike. I‟m trying to clear up the background to this situation

with Elona and, to be frank, it doesn‟t make sense to me. Are

you happy to talk about it some more?”

Mike‟s hands were locked together and he looked very tense.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“I talked with Elona about a week ago and I can‟t help feeling

that she‟s holding something back. I understand that you

worked closely with her.”

The moment I said this, Mike shuffled a bit in his seat. I let

him settle before I continued.

“I‟m not accusing you of anything, but I wondered if there is

anything that you can tell me that would help me understand the

situation.”

Mike looked at me for quite a few seconds. It was as if he was

trying to decide whether he should speak.

“Has she told you about her problems at home?” he asked.

“Not in any detail. I understand that things have not gone

smoothly with her boyfriend. Is that right?”

“Er. Yes…..” but he stopped short of saying anything more

and looked down at his knees while he pondered further.

“Is there anything further you can tell me about your working

relationship with her?”

He knew he had to talk and I watched as he drew in a large

breath and settled into his chair.

“It was good. She worked well. We worked well. She was

not the most talkative or outgoing young woman, but I liked her

Friends or Lovers

and worked well with her. She does have problems at home and

some issues within the team – my old team – but I felt she and I

had a good understanding. Her complaint took me by surprise.”

“She didn‟t make a complaint, Mike,” I corrected.

“She didn‟t?” he asked.

“No. It was someone else in the department.”

“Well that explains a lot,” he commented.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, they clearly had no idea what was going on.”

His statement puzzled me. I was not sure where to go next.

“Why did you ask her out for a drink?”

Mike tensed and I could see his hands clench. Then his right

hand moved swiftly to his face and he touched his cheek. His

hands settled back into lap and he started to speak.

“Haven‟t we been over this before?” he asked. “Why are we

raking it up again?”

“Because I think there‟s more that I don‟t know and maybe I

didn‟t fully understand,” I said.

He started to nod slowly and relaxed a bit. I thought I detected

a wry smile.

“There is more,” he said deliberately, “but she spoke to me in

confidence. I would feel more comfortable if you talked to her

directly about it.”

“I‟ve tried. But she‟s hedging,” I asserted.

“Penny, she confided personal stuff to me and I don‟t think I

should break her confidence.”

I felt myself start to get irritated, but tried to remain calm.

“If I‟ve made a mistake, I need to know, Mike. Nobody‟s

interests are served by withholding relevant information.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

He thought for a moment, then gathered his thoughts. He

decided to open up.

“She spoke to me in private about issues with her boyfriend

and also an upsetting incident with a team member. I talked to

her several times over a number of weeks, gave her whatever

support I was able. I also offered to meet her outside work and

the next thing there‟s a complaint against me. I thought I

must‟ve said or done something insensitive. If I have, I

apologise but I really don‟t know what was alleged or why.”

“Why didn‟t you come to me earlier?” I asked.

“I am used to handling these things within my team.”

I found that remark patronising and privately wondered if he

resented my involvement.

“You get close to people don‟t you?” I commented.

He immediately tensed again.

“What on earth do you mean?”

I regretted the remark but it was out now and I had to limit the

damage.

“I know you give good support to your team.”

“Who‟ve you been talking to?” he asked aggressively. “I

thought you were trying to straighten this thing out.”

His defences were up now, but I needed him to calm down if

we were to make any progress.

“Mike. Mike. Slow down. Like I say, nobody‟s accusing you

of anything.”

“Then why can‟t you look me in the eye when you say that?”

he retorted.

I looked him in the eye.

“Nobody is accusing you of anything.”

Inside, I knew the damage had been done.

Friends or Lovers

“Okay,” I said. “Cards on the table. You are well liked by

your team. Clearly you give them excellent support and I can

see they appreciate this and it has worked well in the past. But

you have got too close to team members before and this has

made managing the team complicated. Are you sure you‟ve not

overstepped the mark with Elona?”

I could see his anger rising and his face started to go red. I felt

uneasy; I did not want this situation to get nasty but experience

told me to remain calm and sit in my chair.

He fixed my gaze.

“I did not „overstep the mark‟,” he said with some force. “I

did what any good manager would do. I offered personal

support for a member of my team who was experiencing

personal difficulties at work and at home.”

I struggled to contain my own impatience.

“Then tell me about these things. I cannot manage a situation I

don‟t understand.”

“She spoke to me in confidence and I‟m not prepared to break

that confidence. I gave her my word. Even if it makes my

position difficult I‟m not prepared to break my word.”

He was a stubborn bugger and I decided to exert a bit of

pressure.

“I don‟t want to fall out about this Mike, but it is as well you

understand how I feel. I think something has taken place

between you and Elona, or Elona and a team member. It sounds

like one or more of policies have been breached and you have a

duty to inform me if this is the case. You have a chance to be

open with me now, or later. On the basis of this conversation, I

will have to talk to Dave about calling a formal enquiry.”

Mike looked at me. Curiously, he seemed to relax.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Do that and a can of worms will open so large that you may

never recover from it”, he said

My patience ended.

“Are you threatening me, Mike?”

It was my turn to fix my eyes on his.

“No. I‟m saying that you do not know enough about this

situation to handle it, and seeing as you‟ve moved me to another

department it is no longer my responsibility. You‟ve made

mistakes already, calling an enquiry will just compound things.

People will get hurt.”

“Mike, maybe this is one can of worms that needs to be

opened,” I argued.

“Penny. There is more at stake here than my job. This is not

in your interests – trust me. Elona, you and others will be hurt if

you pursue this.”

Trust him? I don‟t think so. This is one situation in which I

will trust my own instincts. There is some serious shit going on

here and it is my job to find out what it is. I gave him one last

chance.

“People have already been hurt. I need your co-operation. Are

you going to give it to me?”

He stood thinking. Then, with a more friendly gesture he

made a concession.

“If you get Elona‟s consent, I‟ll talk,” he replied.

“Okay. Let me think on this and I‟ll get back to you.”

“Right. I‟ll await your call.” His tone was slightly sarcastic

and that annoyed me, but I let it ride and saw him to the door.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 13

Things calmed down over the next few weeks. With all the

recruitment issues to deal with, and the new starters, I put the

Elona issue on a back burner. John and I continued to e-mail

each other in the evenings and steadily got to know each other.

We bantered about men and women and I started sending him

feminist jokes. He replied with “masculist” ones. My

favourites were:

Question: Why does it take 20 million sperm to impregnate an egg?

Answer: Because none of them know how to ask for directions.

…to which he responded….

Question: Why does it take 20 million sperm to impregnate an egg?

Answer: Because the egg is so busy rehearsing a speech about equality it

forgot to meet the sperm half-way.

The other one I really liked was:

After God made man, she said to Adam, “there’s some good news and

some bad news”.

Adam asked to hear the good news first.

“The good news is that I’ve given you a brain and a penis”.

“So what’s the bad news?” asked Adam.

“The bad news is that you can only use one at a time.”

…..to which he replied….

Scientists have, after 20 years of diligent research, and a study involving

2000 women, finally discovered the food that reduces women’s sex drive by

90%…..

....it’s called Wedding Cake.

He added that when both men and women could laugh at both

jokes, then perhaps we‟ll be approaching the end of the sex war.

I responded with a George Burns quote:

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There will always be a sex war because men and women want different things: men want women and women want men.

His final retort was that there were still too many women who

thought the best way to end the sex war was to chop off the

useless bit of skin attached to a penis called “a man”.

* * *

Tonight, after several months off the scene, I‟ve decided it is

party night! My sister Carole and Chris will be around in half

an hour and we are going to hit the pubs. They managed to pack

the baby off to mum‟s so we‟re going to really rock „n‟ roll.

I‟m well into my beautification routine. About an hour ago I

had a bath and soaked myself in essential oils, shaved under my

arms and between my legs (quite the fashion at the moment). I

am lucky to have young skin, not least because I have looked

after it. Although I‟m thirty-two, I easily pass for 25 and that

means I can still enjoy the singles scene and taste the delights of

men who have more passion than technique, more ardour than

intellect. It still gives me a thrill to lead a man from first eye-

contact to passionate fuck knowing that I am controlling every

second of his (and my) pleasure; I can choose to blow his mind

or tell him to piss off.

Not all women have this power – I‟m lucky, I guess. And with

this power comes some responsibility. But the men in the

singles scene are playing the same game; out for fun without

commitment. If they didn‟t fancy me they‟d probably tell me to

piss off. In fact, now I come to think of it, they do say that in

their own way after they‟ve shagged me. They don‟t call me.

Do I care? Yes, actually, it hurts. It hurts a lot. But when I

think about things, there is a perverse balance of power. If I‟m

eventually going to get rejected, at least let the man have a

Friends or Lovers

smooth tanned muscular body, a handsome face, plenty of

money in his wallet, and a cock as big as his ego.

When I‟m getting ready for nights like this, I like to soap my

boobs. I have a great pair – no need for a padded bra or

implants. Any under wired bra brings out the best in them, and

when I put on a black body-hugging Elle top with a suitably cut

V-neck, I look sexy as hell without looking cheap or trashy.

Tonight, I‟m going for it. I‟ve put on some crystal studs and

some dangly earrings that have a blue tint (to match my eyes).

Around my neck I have a Swarovski necklace bought for me by

a former boyfriend – bastard wanted it back but I wouldn‟t give

it to him. It is studded with crystals and an eye catching sky

blue jewel that fits into the crease of my cleavage.

Under my trendy black leather jacket there is a leather skirt

with an overlong belt – dead stylish, really cool – and cut above

the knee but not so short that I look like a chav. To complete

the effect I‟m wearing close woven black fishnet stockings – not

the unsubtle type with large holes that you get from Ann

Summers – the type with holes so small that a guy won‟t notice

them until he‟s up close and personal. On my feet, I‟ve put on

black high heels with open toes and a single buckle strap at the

ankle. They are not that comfortable, but they complete the

vision. I‟m a hot babe tonight; a femme fatale out for a kill.

While I wait for my sister, I apply sky blue varnish to my

fingernails. This is a skill men cannot appreciate – one area

where you must be ambidextrous and exercise care so that the

varnish is evenly applied and no splodges get on the skin. I

imagine most blokes won‟t notice the detail, but the women

will. I‟m a piece of art, fashioned to move the senses, a living

sculpture. Sometimes being a woman is such fun.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Even with all this preparation, it‟s not looks alone that will

attract. I‟ve learned from experience that the way I walk into a

bar, the way I dance, the way I talk and engage makes a huge

difference. If I go out in a bad mood and don‟t talk much, far

fewer men approach me. But when I‟m with girlfriends being

vivacious, talking boldly giving men discrete (and sometimes

indiscrete) eye contact, then they flock to me like bees around a

honey pot. There is nothing magical about it, I just

understanding how to flaunt myself.

Now my nails are dry, I open a bottle of wine. No harm

having one glass before I go out. If I do have to buy my own

drinks (unlikely) then it will cut down the cost of getting drunk.

I take in the latest episode of Eastenders while I sip away.

Eastenders! That reminds me – out comes my pad and pencil. I

decided to try something out. Do men or women hit more in the

soaps? To my astonishment, I find that the women hit far more

often. Funny, I‟d never noticed that before.

And as for adverts, I am finding that if anybody is ridiculed it

is men. The only advert that reverses this is „Nuts!‟ an advert

for a trashy weekly men‟s magazine. That advert is so unfunny

– like women don‟t know how to do car repairs or serious DIY

work in the home. Actually I don‟t know how to do these either,

but it doesn‟t matter because I get my father to come over. If

I‟m really stuck, then I pick up the phone to get my favourite

handyman to sort it out for me. Isn‟t that what men are for?

The adverts that do make me laugh are the car adverts aimed at

women. „Size matters‟? It sure does – although girth is

probably more important. And that AA car insurance advert, it

just shows what plonkers men really are. Why spend hours and

hours looking for a good deal when the AA can do it for you?

Friends or Lovers

And there are those women only insurance companies now. I

can‟t believe that there is talk about banning them or forcing

them to offer insurance to men too; if we women are safer

drivers we should get cheaper insurance. All this stuff about

insurers discriminating against men, it‟s just bollocks. Why

don‟t men just learn to drive more safely?

Anyway, these thoughts go through my mind as the doorbell

rings. Up I get, open the door, and see Carole and Chris looking

chic and ready to party.

“Come on in,” I say. “Just let me finish my glass of wine and

we can shoot.”

I give Carole a hug. She looks great too, but her bust isn‟t as

good as mine. She tends to avoid „V‟ neck tops and wears a

wonderbra with smooth silky fabric against her skin. This gives

the suggestion of a full breast and shows her nipples when she

gets sweaty or turned on. She‟s got great nipples, my sis‟. I

compliment her while I look at Chris. His eyes are on stalks as

he takes in my outfit. He may be a bit of a twit, but he knows

how to look at a woman and make her feel good.

“You look good tonight Chris,” I say.

I‟m not lying. He‟s been to River Island to buy new jeans and

a shirt. I imagine Carole went with him, but he‟s a credit to her.

His hair is washed and groomed. He‟s clean shaven – which I

know Carole likes – and he‟s got some dead cool trainers on too.

“Just let me pop to the loo,” interjects Carole. “Back in a mo.”

As soon as Carole is out of sight, Chris turns to me.

“You look fantastic, Penny. Whoever reels you in tonight will

be a lucky guy.”

“Thank you, Chris.” I respond coyly. “I aim to please.”

I pause for a second and then a thought occurs to me.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“…but I think it is me who will be doing the reeling in.”

“I bet you will,” he replies, his eyes firmly looking into mine.

“Doesn‟t Carole look great?” I say to deflect his attention.

“She sure does. I‟m a lucky guy going out on the town with

you two – I‟ll be the envy of every other bloke there. You both

look a million dollars.”

He was doing so well up to that point but had to spoil it by

drawing attention to how good we‟ll make him look. I like

attracting men, but hate it when they regard me as some sort of

trophy. It is comments like these that show Chris for the prat he

is. Still, Carole loves him, so I guess there must be something

about him. For the life of me I can‟t see what it is.

Carole returns from the loo and we call a taxi. Carole and

Chris stay over on nights like this and I give Chris a pair of

spare house keys. There is a good chance I won‟t make it back

home so they need to be able to let themselves in. I usually try

to come back for breakfast, but I like to take things as they

come. I can‟t predict whether I‟ll feel like coming back home; it

depends on whether a gorgeous guy has whisked me off to a

stunning penthouse.

The taxi arrives and drives us to a classy bar at the better end

of town. I like this bar. It has lots of comfy chairs to relax in

with stylish tables. There is a dining area too with a dance floor

between the bar area and restaurant. On Friday nights it is quiet

until about 8.30pm and is rocking by 10pm. A good time to

arrive is 8.15 – as we have done – early enough to get a table in

the bar area, drink until the restaurant table is ready, and then

work off the calories on the dance floor.

Chris gets in the first round of drinks. I alternate between

sparkling mineral water and wine on these occasions – it gets me

Friends or Lovers

drunk quite quickly and the water prevents me dehydrating. We

chat while deciding what to eat:

“So what‟s happening in your life, sis?” asked Carole.

“Usual stuff at work. Always someone having difficulties or

creating tension,” I replied.

“And outside work?” she added.

“Well, I met John. We had a good time, I think.”

“You think?” queried Chris.

“You can never be sure, but yes, I think we had a good time,” I

confirmed.

Carole looked at me closely, and rested her chin on her hand

momentarily as a subtle grin took shape on her face.

“What?” I asked.

She continued to grin but didn‟t say anything.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Both Carole and Chris looked at each other and smiled.

“Are you going to meet him again, then?” Carole finally asked.

“Yes. Now would you like me to tell you the length of his

penis?” I remarked pointedly.

Chris laughed. Carole looked me directly in the eye and did

not miss a beat.

“Yes. Just give me a rough idea. Was it as long as his CV?”

“His what?”

“His CV – you said he was an academic turned consultant – he

must have a very long CV…..”

“Carole. I‟ve news for you. He‟s just a friend.”

“Oh yeah.” She took on a superior tone as she started to make

fun of me. “My big sister who is all upright and proper at work,

but a regular shag-bag outside work, has got a „friend‟. It‟s got

bells on. Try again.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I like him, okay. He‟s married. He‟s told me straight that he

loves his wife, his kids. This is a friendship.”

“And you believe him?” interjected Chris.

I paused for a moment. Inside I was not sure whether I

believed him or not. I was not sure I wanted to believe that all

he wanted was friendship, but for reasons that I could not

understand I felt that he meant what he said, even if I would

have liked more. Finally, I spoke.

“Yes,” was all I said.

Both Chris and Carole looked at each other again and gave

each other a puzzled look.

“But you never have male friends outside work!” shrieked

Carole. “You have male friends at work and a line of hunks

knocking at your door outside work.”

I was about to object but on reflection she was probably right.

I do have female friends although many stop seeing me when

they have steady boyfriends. I used to think they were just busy,

but slowly I realised that they were deliberately avoiding me.

Men as friends? No. She was right. Friendship with men had

thus far proved impossible.

“Hey! Perhaps she‟s growing up?” Chris commented to

Carole.

“Cut the cheek you,” I objected, but there was no stopping

him.

“Next you‟ll be telling us that you are going to look for a

husband.”

“Not tonight,” I quipped.

Then, to make sure Chris was aware that I‟d not enjoyed his

comments, I looked at him with a dismissive smile. “Men over

25 need not apply.”

Friends or Lovers

It was Carole‟s turn to laugh.

“God sis‟! When are you going to grow up and settle down?”

If there is one thing that Carole had never said to me before it

was that I should settle down. I thought she knew better, but the

way she said this in such a carefree and matter of fact way

actually stopped me in my tracks for a second.

“Not tonight,” I said after a moment. “I‟ll give it some thought

tomorrow.”

My mind returned to the task in hand and I could feel my face

relax and a more pleasant demeanour return.

“But since the night is young and there are some young

strapping lads here who are hot and willing…….let‟s get on and

eat, drink and party.”

We ordered our food and I finished my second glass of wine.

People were beginning to come into the bar in greater numbers;

couples, groups of young men and women, sometimes together

and sometimes separate. By 9pm we were sitting at our table,

and the bar was getting so crowded that we had to queue for

drinks. After main courses and coffee, and a third glass of wine,

I was ready to dance.

“Shall we hit the floor?” I asked.

Carole turned to Chris and gave a gesture.

“I‟ll stay here and order some coffees?” he responded.

“I‟d rather have another sparkling water. Best not to mix

drinks too much,” I said with a delicate hint of sarcasm.

Carole nodded and we made our way onto the floor. As I

looked around, I could see the eyes of several men follow me.

One of my great pleasures in life is attracting admiring looks

when I dance. When the DJ put on “You Sexy Thing” I began

to take control of the dance floor. I like this song, particularly

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since I saw Robert Carlisle strut his stuff in The Full Monty.

God, he was great – but I think I have the edge when it comes to

oozing sex appeal.

I put my arms above my head and I let my hips swing and my

long hair fall sensuously about me. I began to look around as I

danced to see whose eye I could catch. At the bar was a strong

looking young man in a white tee-shirt and jeans. He looked

good and I caught his eye before quickly turning my face away

and giving him a sight of my curves swinging in time to the

music. Each time I turned quickly the hem of my skirt rose up

enough to show an increasing number of admirers that I had

black stockings and suspenders on.

As I cast my eyes around the restaurant tables, I caught half a

dozen men looking in my direction. One was so taken that his

girlfriend put her hand under his jaw and twisted his face back

so that it looked at her. I grinned broadly and briefly as I

flashed a look at the young man sitting at the bar. He was with

friends, chatting, but his eyes kept looking in my direction.

Good, I have his attention. As the song ended, I saw that Chris

was queuing at the bar not far from him so I turned to Carole.

“I‟ll just help Chris with the drinks,” and off I went.

As I walked towards this young man I looked directly at him

and I could see his nervousness. In Cosmo I read that a second

of eye contact is a flirt. A two-second gaze is a come-on.

Three-seconds is tantamount to telling him I want him inside my

knickers. For now, I give him a series of strong admiring looks

each lasting a second or two. As I walk right past him, within a

couple of feet, our eyes meet. Then I turn to Chris so that my

back is towards him.

Friends or Lovers

“Shall I take that,” I ask. Pretending to be helpful. “Dancing

is thirsty work.”

“Watching you makes my throat go dry too, Penny,” he jokes.

“Not as much as his, I think” I say turning to my admirer and

catching his eye again.

“Go easy on the young lad, Pen. His heart may not be up to

it.”

“It‟s not his heart I‟m interested in, Chris.”

Even though I was alternating water and wine, I could feel the

effects of the drink. I knew that I‟d probably had enough, and

that another glass might cause me to get sleepy before I‟d had

any fun. Still, it had been a while since I‟d let my hair down so

I decided to take things as I found them. As I returned to the

dance floor, I walked past my admirer again and this time I

made sure that I brushed close by him and turned my head to

check his eyes were following me. They were. His friends

realised I was giving him the eye and they were ribbing him and

laughing loudly. One gave him a shove forward as if to say “Go

on, get after her!” He smiled and laughed in an embarrassed

way but did not come out onto the dance floor. He seemed a bit

more nervous that most men. Whether it was the drink or not,

he definitely looked good to me. I decided to bide my time.

Carole was bopping away to YMCA when I arrived back with

my drink. I tip-toed around her while I downed the water,

gently moving in time with the music so as not to spill anything.

The next record was Madonna‟s Open Your Heart, one of my

favourites, and Carole decided to leave me to hog the limelight

while she drank her coffee. Soon I was in full flow again, with

my arms above my head, gyrating my hips and inviting the

onlookers to let their imagination run wild.

Rory Ridley-Duff

A number of men tried to join in with me while my young

admirer remained at the bar drinking his pint. I allowed them to

dance near me, but if they tried to touch I quickly moved away

so as not to discourage the man I‟d set my eyes on. After five

minutes Carole and Chris joined me and we grooved away for

the next couple of records, letting the alcohol and atmosphere go

to our heads. It was time to cast my line and hook my man.

“Just going to the loo,” I shouted in Chris‟s ear. “Back in a

minute!”

I walked towards the bar again and could see my catch stare at

me as I approached him. His friends, like the parting of the red

sea, backed away a little as I went up to him calmly and

confidently.

“Hi! I‟m just going to the girls‟ room. Would you like to get

me a drink and we can chat when I get back?”

He broke into a big grin and nodded. Yes, he was really very

fit indeed and his face was kind and very pleasing to the eye. I

put my hand on his shoulder as I drew my mouth close up to his

right ear. “White wine. I shan‟t be long.”

As I drew away, I let my cheek very gently touch his.

I walked down the stairs to the toilets, past two young couples

who were already exploring each other‟s throats and fondling

each others‟ buttocks. I imagined my youthful admirer - almost

certainly rock hard by now – as I entered the women‟s loos to

reapply make-up that had been affected by the sweaty

atmosphere. I looked in the mirror. My black hair had become

loose and free-flowing and I looked like a high-class tart. The

tingle of anticipation heightened my arousal as I entered a

cubicle to relieve myself. I closed my eyes and pictured the

young man who was buying me a drink. I was ready.

Friends or Lovers

I returned to the bar and he had my drink ready. It occurred to

me that I had not heard him speak yet so I held out my hand.

“Hi. I‟m Penny.” He took it and instead of shaking it, he

raised it to his lips and kissed it. Very smooth.

“George,” he said. His conversation skills could do with a bit

of grooming, I must say.

“Out with your mates, I see,” I said, looking over in their

direction.

“Yeah. Load of tossers, but they‟re alright.”

I raised my glass in their direction and they acknowledged me

en masse.

“Nothing wrong with a good toss….,” I said, looking him

straight in the eye.

To my surprise, he did not respond. In fact, if I‟d not known

better I would have said he almost wet his pants. It looked like I

was going to have to be gentle with him.

“So, what do you and your mates do?” I said, trying to get the

conversation going again.

“Them lot?” he said. “Most of us work for the AA, you know,

emergency breakdowns and that stuff. Rescuing damsels in

distress!”

So, not overloaded in the brain department, but there was a

hint of humour there. I decided to play with him and see how

far he would go.

“Are you feeling lucky tonight, then?”

I wondered if this was too much of a come on, but I thought it

was already obvious that I was coming onto him. Again, he

didn‟t respond and I began to wonder whether I‟d misread him.

“Do you like the outfit?” I asked giving him a quick twirl, fast

enough to give a flash of suspenders.

Rory Ridley-Duff

I saw the Adam‟s apple in his throat move. Christ, he really

was nervous! But then some words came out.

“I….I think you look…..I…..”

Come on lad, spit it out.

“I…..I think you look….absolutely fucking fantastic.”

At last.

“There, that wasn‟t so hard, was it?”

He laughed and suddenly he relaxed. I‟m not sure exactly

what I did or said, but from that moment on he seemed to

change into a different person.

“I‟ve not seen you here before,” he said.

“I only go out when I‟m with my sister. She‟s over there with

her would-be hubby.”

I moved closer to him and pointed her out on the dance floor.

“Hmm. Hot stuff,” he said and then he must have detected a

slight movement in me because he looked me in the eye and

continued “…but not as hot as her younger sister.”

Keep them coming. That was good, very smooth.

“Well, you look like a fit young lad. Are you old enough for

me?” I teased.

“Twenty next week. How about you?”

I decided to lie – no point shattering his illusions.

“I‟m twenty five.”

“Fuck. You don‟t look it!”

I was not sure whether that was a compliment or not but I need

not have worried because he quickly reassured me.

“I thought you were my age.”

Cool. I thought. Is he deliberately flattering me or does it

come naturally. I smiled at him – a genuine smile of

appreciation, and then gave him a wicked look.

Friends or Lovers

“Old enough to teach you a few tricks?”

Before I knew it he‟d slipped his firm hand around the back of

my head and kissed me, gently as first, and then more

passionately. I opened my mouth and let his tongue in. For his

age he was a good kisser, and his tongue explored my mouth. It

felt confident and firm which I hoped was a good sign for later.

I pulled away slightly and whispered in his ear.

“….don‟t waste it all now, plenty of time for that later…..”

I put my hand between his legs and gave a quick squeeze. I

heard a slow rising sound from my right. He friends were

looking on and gave a long slow

“Wwwwooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

With perfect timing Rock DJ started to play. There was a

sudden movement from all of George‟s friends and I followed

them onto the dance floor. The place suddenly came alive and I

found myself surrounded by young men, with George‟s arms

around my waist as we did a bump and grind. We must have cut

quite a picture – my arse pressed against his groin as he

pretended to pump me from behind.

He moved well. I thought him quite a sexy dancer and his

friends were fun too. Carole and Chris joined us and we had

quite a party for the next hour. I drank another glass of water

and wine and started to feel very naughty. Over the loud music,

I managed to make him understand that he should meet me

outside the loos in 5 minutes. I went to check my make-up

again, relieved myself once more and then waited outside,

leaning against the wall like a prostitute waiting for a client.

He came down the stairs and I could see the animalism in him.

I parted my legs slightly and guided him in between them. We

kissed passionately, our tongues winding around each others,

Rory Ridley-Duff

our hand moving over each others bodies and between each

others legs. His hands were all over me, under my skirt and

inside my top. “Time to get out of here,” I said.

He nodded and we gathered our jackets and left. I flagged us a

taxi and gave the driver the address. As the car moved away, his

hand was under my skirt again and I opened my legs wide for

him. His fingers worked inside the hem of my pants and rubbed

around my clit. Then a finger was inside me and I gasped

before grabbing his hair and guiding his mouth back to mine.

My hands were inside his tee-shirt, feeling his muscular body,

rubbing him up and down while he finger-fucked me.

We paid the taxi driver, who bid us farewell with the comment

“Have fun!”

As soon as we were inside the door of my flat, I jumped up and

put my legs around his waist.

“That room,” I indicate with a nod of the head.

He carried me through and dropped me on the bed. I slowly

pulled my arms up behind my head, closed my eyes, and opened

my legs wide for him so he could see my suspenders in all their

glory. His head was between my thighs, kissing me gently,

moving up slowing. He pulled my pants to one side and buried

his face in my pussy.

Then came my first disappointment.

That firm tongue that was so good exploring my mouth felt

like a dish mop between my legs. I tried to focus and get

excited but his tongue action was so off putting that I could not

put up with it for long. I grabbed his head, indicating he should

stop, and pointed down to his crotch. He understood

immediately and took off his trousers and pants. Then he

climbed roughly back on top of me and tried to put it in. He did

Friends or Lovers

not guide it in with his hand, but poked around inexpertly,

looking for the entrance. Eventually he was inside, but he

pumped me so fast and furiously that it hurt. I liked it long and

slow, preferably with my lover holding my legs up over his

shoulders and making sure he angled his cock into the pit of my

stomach.

I was beginning to get frustrated, so I shut my eyes and let him

fuck me for a few minutes.

“Do you want me on all fours?” I asked.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he said furiously.

“Take it a bit slower,” I said with a hint of impatience. ”Long

and deep,” I added in a seductive tone.

He looked at me in an odd way. Then quickly nodded.

I took up my position, and lowered my head against the pillow

and presented my perfectly fuckable clean-shaven fanny to him.

He broddled about again before he found the hole and despite

my instruction he continued to pump fast and furious. I put my

hands down between my legs and tried to compensate for this

unerotic experience by massaging my clit. It started to work,

my excitement rose. Then I did something that perhaps I should

not have done. I shut my eyes and started to imagine it was

John behind me, thumping away in my hole and I began to feel a

prickle welling up in my body.

I pictured John‟s handsome face behind me, his strong hands

on my back, and his cock working away in my pussy. I started

talking, egging him on, come on big boy, give it to me hard, fill

me up with your spunk, come on John……..

“John?!” he shouted and suddenly pulled out of me.

“Who the fuck is John?” he shouted at me.

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“George, George, come on hun, get it back in me, come

on…..”

I saw his face slowly turn to beetroot as the resentment rose in

him. As it did, so it rose in me too. I turned away, got up and

shot an irritated glance at him as I walked to the bathroom.

“Well, I suppose it was good while it lasted!” I added

sarcastically.

His face turned red. Then he bellowed.

“I am not a piece of meat!”

He started to put on his clothes. As soon as I realised he was

going to leave the rage boiled over in me too.

“You bastard. You‟re a fucking crap kisser, your tongue is

like a dish mop and you fuck like a pneumatic drill! Go on.

Piss off out of here.”

He dressed quickly and did not bother to button up his shirt or

jacket before he made for the door. As he left the room, he

turned around and with a cruel sneer made a parting remark that

I‟ll never forget.

“And you, you old slapper, are never 25.”

I picked up a glass of water by the bed and threw it at him, but

he closed the door and it smashed.

“Fuck off out of here….!” I shouted at the top of my voice but

he was already out of the front door before I‟d finished saying it.

I sat back on the bed and curled up. Suddenly I was

overwhelmed with distress and an emotion that I‟d not felt for

years. It grew inside me slowly, swelling like a wave and

rolling slowly into shore. As I felt it get closer, the wave started

to break, my emotions started to erupt, engulfing me and

crashing frenetically throughout my body. I felt my mouth

twitch and my eyes grow moist. What am I doing? I‟m a grown

Friends or Lovers

woman picking up a teenager for sex. What am I doing?

Suddenly, I was being swept away on a huge wave of feeling.

My pitifully shallow life crushed me. With my eyes dripping, I

curled up into a ball and started to howl like a baby. My insides

convulsed in pain, as if I had been run through with a wooden

stake. Never in my life had I felt such pain and I wept for the

first time in 11 years, the first time since I kicked out my

university boyfriend after he‟d cheated on me with my best

friend. And as I wept, I thought of only one thing. John. I

wanted to be with John, to feel his arms around me, to weep as I

lay on his chest. I thought of nothing else but to be with John.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 14

I cried for an hour as thoughts bounced around my mind like a

powerball inside a hollow steel container. I was all over the

place, pulled this way, then that. Who am I? What is this life I

have created? Why am I so afraid? Why do men treat me like

shit? Why do I treat them like shit? As much as I hated George

for saying it, I had treated him like a piece of meat, a succulent

Sunday roast to devour and then throw away the carcass. I

never sought a relationship, certainly nothing that would last.

Why not? What was I doing wasting my life?

I‟m not young any more. Okay, so I can pull the guys. But

there is something missing that I can‟t understand. I‟ve lived

like this, on and off, for ten years, never settling with anyone,

never letting anyone settle with me. If they get too close, I push

them away. If they run away, I get mad and grab onto someone

else to ease the pain. There must be more. There must be

something beyond passion and sex.

And, am I really happy at work? I tell everyone that I am, but

I don‟t know any more. Every year that passes, I earn more

brownie points but feel less enthusiasm. The greater the

responsibility, the less I seem to feel for people. In the past, I

used to like the staff I recruited, to enjoy nurturing them and

watching them grow. But now, it is a chore. Yet another person

leaves and I have to shuffle everyone around, fill out more paper

work, update more systems. Sometimes I wish people would

just stay still.

I get up and go to the bathroom. My face is stained and I look

ugly. I feel ugly. Who have I ever made happy? I‟ve done so

much, but achieved so little. Same old, same old, week after

Friends or Lovers

week, month after month. I pull my hair back and begin to dab

my face to remove some of the stains while the tears start to

flow again. What is the point? As I throw myself on the bed, I

look at the clock and the mobile phone next to it. Without a

moment‟s thought, I pick it up and type „John‟ and press „Dial‟.

It rings. And rings. Come on John, be there, pick it up. Pick it

up.

“Urrm. Hawww… Who‟s th… What time is it? Fuck!

What? Errm. Who is there?” he finally says.

I try to talk but all I can do is sob.

“Hello?” he asks. “I can hear you crying. Who is it?”

Amongst the whimpers, I finally manage to say my name.

“Penny? What is it? What‟s happened?”

In the background, I can make out a woman‟s voice saying

“who is it, darling?” and he responds that it is me. I can faintly

hear another question….”wh….she …..this…ime….of….giht”.

It sounds like the line is breaking up, but then his voice comes

across strongly.

“Penny? You still there? What happened, love?”

I have no idea why, but the moment he said the word „love‟ I

started to feel safer. I calmed down enough to get a sentence

out.

“I‟m such a fool. Such a fool. I‟ve really fucked up.” I knew

I was not making much sense but at least some feelings were

coming out.

“Just take your time. No hurry. Just tell me what happened.”

I paused. I really did not know what to say.

“Oh, John,” I said. “Just hearing a friendly voice helps.”

“Good. Good. But what‟s happened?” he asked again.

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“I feel so stupid. It is so stupid. I don‟t even understand why

I‟m upset or why I‟ve called you. Please forgive me for waking

you up, I just wanted to talk to someone.”

I knew that he would not be able to make head or tail of this,

but as I talked I was trying to work out in my head exactly what

it was that I was upset about. Why exactly was I crying?

“I just had a bad night,” I continued.

“Have you been attacked?” he said kindly.

“No. No. It‟s not that. It‟s just that….it‟s just….you know I

just don‟t know what it is. I‟m not even sure. Maybe it is the

drink.”

I stopped for a moment and he spoke with a strong voice.

“Penny. Can you do something for me?”

“I‟ll try,” I replied.

“Can you get a pen and paper and write down what you are

feeling now. Right now. Write out what you are feeling. Don‟t

think too hard, just get a pen and paper and write.”

“Why?” I said with a puzzled tone.

“Tomorrow I‟ll come round and we‟ll read it together.”

And that was all he needed to say. To know that I was going

to see him made such a difference that I felt my tears and

distress subside. Normality returned.

“Thank you. Thank you, John. I‟ll call again in the morning.”

I could hear a woman‟s voice again asking

“wher…..uck….goin….morrow?” and then John‟s voice explain

that it was me on the phone and that I was seriously distressed

by something. Then another faint question: “why….ling you?”.

He said he didn‟t know but that he‟d find out tomorrow. Before

he signed off I heard her say in a less concerned, and much

Friends or Lovers

friendlier voice “come…ack…t….ed, superman.”. Then he

spoke to me again.

“I have to go now, Penny. Find that pen and paper. Start

writing for me.”

I said that I would.

I got a pen and paper and started to think. I did so for over 30

minutes trying to form thoughts in my mind and get them down

on paper. By the time I heard a key in the lock I had written

only two words.

I’m lonely.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 15

Carole looked after me. Chris slept in the spare bed while little

„sis slept with me. I couldn‟t tell her what happened - I just

couldn‟t - and luckily she did not press me. I‟m sure she must

think that I was raped or assaulted, but I just can‟t tell her that

the man I‟d seduced had realised, mid-shag, that I was

fantasising about another man. How do you tell that to anyone,

let alone your sister?

I had another session sobbing my eyes out at the breakfast

table. Carole and Chris had no idea how to stop me. They just

sat there quietly, Chris on one side, with his hand on my back,

Carole holding my hand.

“Um….Do you….d‟you….want to…”

“No,” I said quickly. “It‟s too painful.”

“What about the police?” Chris asked. I could tell they‟d been

talking to each other.

“God, no!” I said with a start. “You mustn‟t do that!”

“But….”

I had to tell them something. I had to tell them enough of the

truth for them to understand and not blame anyone.

“He walked out on me. We got back here, started having sex

and then he just got up and walked out on me.”

“What a bastard!” said Carole.

“I‟ll punch his face in next time I see him,” threatened Chris.

“No. No. You must not blame him.”

“Why not?” they said together. Then Carole took my arm and

spoke more softly.

“What happened, „sis, you can tell us. We just want to help.”

“I….I….He….”

Friends or Lovers

What could I say? I did not want to lie, but I could not tell

them what happened. What could I say?

“I don‟t want to tell you,” I started but suddenly the words

started to come out. “Something happened that upset the

evening. It is no-one‟s fault – you must not blame him - but

when this „something‟ happened we got angry with each other.

That‟s all I can say.”

“But why all the tears, sis‟” said Chris.

“Oh! Carole. It just all came down on me. My life looks great

on the outside but inside it is a heap of shit. I look at you and

Chris and wonder what I‟m doing with my life. I know I look

all confident and happy, but I‟d trade places with you if I

could.”

Carole‟s mouth dropped open. Clearly she could not believe

what she was hearing. Then her mouth closed, she took my

hand and indicated I should stand up. As soon as I was on my

feet she held her arms open and I fell into them.

“Welcome to the real world, sis,” she whispered.

“No fairy tales. No happy endings?” I asked.

“Don‟t be such a cynic,” she said pulling away and looking me

in the face.

“Why not?”

“I found my prince charming. So will you,” and she cast a

glance at Chris the like of which I‟d never noticed before. I was

so used to her moaning about his habits that I‟d not noticed that

she really admired him.

Chris smiled back then put his arms around both of us.

“Family cuddle,” he said, and for reasons I could not

understand another wave of emotion engulfed me and the tears

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started to flow again. Carole spoke softly while Chris hugged us

both.

“That‟s right. Go on. Let it out. Get it out.”

I suddenly realised that my little sister had done more growing

up than I had. She had taken on the responsibility of a partner

and baby. What had I done? Yeah, I had my career but how did

that compare to the responsibility of loving another person? I

hadn‟t done that. I‟d never been ready to do that. And I was

still not sure if I was ready to do it now.

“By the way,” Carole suddenly interjected, “John called. He

said he‟ll pick you up at 12pm.”

“John? Oh God, yes!” I remembered and was amazed. He

was going to keep his word.

Carole smiled at me.

“He sounded nice.”

“Don‟t!” was my first response. “I‟ve had all the romance I

can take for one weekend.”

“Romance?” laughed Chris.

“Oh, shut up,” I said, but the smile that was creeping back into

my demeanour communicated to him that I did not really mean

it.

Chris smiled back at me. I‟d never noticed before what a kind

smile he had. I wondered if, perhaps, I had misjudged him. It

was already 10.30; John was coming at mid-day so I had to stir

myself to start getting ready. I went over to the dresser and

combed my hair.

“Now girl,” said Carole. “Don‟t dress up for him. Just put on

something real casual and be yourself.”

My hand rose to my forehead as I gave her a salute.

Friends or Lovers

“Don‟t try to impress him. Just let the day unfold and run with

it, however it goes.”

I knew she was trying to help, but it always annoyed me when

she gave advice like this. I took it on the chin, however; it was

good advice after all.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 16

Twelve o‟clock came and went, and I could feel a few

butterflies in my stomach with each passing minute. I drank the

dregs of my tea, fidgeted, walked around, sat down, walked

around again and generally irritated everybody. As each car

passed outside, I kept expecting it to be him. The wait seemed

interminable. After what seemed like forever, a car pulled up

and a handsome man in jeans and a black pullover got out of the

car and looked around. He was clearly looking at the house

numbers to check which doorbell to press. I looked at my watch

and could not believe that it was only 12:06.

I unlatched the door and opened it.

“Hi there!” he said without a moment‟s hesitation.

“Would you like to come in for a sec?” I asked.

“Sure. I can meet that sister of yours. The one with the sexy

voice.”

“And her partner….” I quipped nodding my head in Chris‟s

direction.

He put his hand over his mouth.

“Oopps!” he said self-consciously.

“Don‟t apologise,” chirped Chris. “She has got a sexy voice.”

Chris was standing behind Carole and wrapping her in his

arms. She lent back and gave him a kiss on his neck to thank

him for the compliment.

John had a cup of coffee and made small talk with Carole and

Chris while I gathered up my things. I‟d dressed casually, just

jeans and a rugby shirt (with a cut especially for women). I‟d

removed my make-up, and just put on a small amount of

transparent lippy to give them a moist look.

Friends or Lovers

“I‟m set to go!” I finally said.

John got up, said his „farewells‟ and „nice to meet yous‟.

“Your carriage awaits you, Madam,” he joked as he escorted

me to his car.

It was quite a swish car, I thought. I was no expert, but from

work I had more knowledge of motors than the average gal.

He‟d chosen a mid-range Ford in black, with a 2-litre engine, in-

car stereo/CD player, full security system, sunroof and alloy

wheels. It fitted his character. He had no need for a flashy

sports car, or gas-guzzler, but he liked a few luxuries, and the

colour and style had a hint of sexiness about it.

Inside the car, he had a selection of CDs, compilations of

classical music by French classical composers and American

jazz artists. His tastes were broad and selective; the music of a

person did not care about fashion or his own image, just the

sensuous experience of listening.

He saw my eyes casting over his collection.

“Any preferences?”

“I particularly like Carly Simon, Norah Jones and Eva Casidy

but it doesn‟t look like you have any.”

To my surprise he opened another hidden compartment with a

further dozen CDs. In there was music by Casiopeia, Carly

Simon, Queen, the Yellowjackets and Mozart. He took out the

„Very Best of Carly Simon” CD and away we drove to the rich

tones of „You‟re So Vain‟.

“Any particular destination you‟d like?” he asked gently.

I thought for a moment. I had no wish to go a long way, but

was keen to walk somewhere quiet.

“How about Warwick castle? We could walk around the

grounds,” I suggested.

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He nodded. I was about to give him directions but he made a

left turn. I realised that he must already know the area.

“You know the way?” I queried.

“Yes, a bit. I have friends in Warwick.”

“Of course, you told me.”

I did not feel talkative because I was not sure how to start. I‟d

called him when I was distressed and he was bound to think I

wanted to talk about what happened. Now he was here, I was

not sure what to say. I could hardly tell him the truth.

“Do you want to eat before or after the walk?” he asked.

I still had a bit of a hangover so food was not high on my

agenda yet.

“Let‟s walk first,” I suggested.

I recalled the voice in the background during our phone

conversation.

“Was your wife okay about your coming here today?”

“Not really. She‟ll get over it. She knows that no man –

particularly me – can totally resist being a knight in shining

armour. She was forgiving.”

“Is that what you are?” I asked.

“I don‟t mind being a stand-in until you find someone who can

do it for you full time.”

It didn‟t fit somehow with the conversations we‟d previously

had about equality between the sexes, but at this particular

moment I was happy to borrow someone else‟s knight for the

day.

“But there is one condition,” he added.

“What‟s that?”

“No hanky panky!” he said with a smile.

Friends or Lovers

“The thought never crossed my mind,” I snapped back with a

grin.

He may have been driving, but he caught my message and

smiled back at me briefly.

“Just so long as we both understand the boundaries,” he

confirmed.

“I do,” I said, with some irony. This small phrase, normally

the preserve of people tying the knot, seemed appropriate for the

contract that we were making between us.

After this, I felt myself relax and the prospect of the day ahead

filled me with pleasure. The trauma of the previous night

receded as I filled my senses with thoughts of what we would do

with our day. We turned a corner that brought the castle into

view then drove around the perimeter to the visitor car park.

“Okay, Madam,” he said with mock politeness. “I am now in

your hands.”

“In my dreams”, I thought to myself. My sumptuous naughty

side had not been destroyed by the humiliation I‟d been through;

I was grateful for that. Even though it sometimes got me into

trouble, the kitten in me was still there.

He continue playing the game of „protector‟ by opening the car

door for me and indicating the direction of the grounds with a

slight nod and wave of his right hand.

“Thank you, my man,” I said with a haughty look that I

imagined women of class would give to a chauffeur, or footman.

Then I blew it by whispering to him „do I give you a tip?‟

He broke into a chuckle as he swung the door shut.

We set off on a path around the perimeter of the castle. I liked

this path because it led through a couple of wooded areas, then

up a slight incline as we crossed more open ground until we had

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a view of the whole locality. The full circuit would take about

45 minutes and by then I would feel ready for lunch. We

walked for a couple of minutes without saying anything to each

other. I sensed that both of us were looking for an opening line

that would enable us to talk about what had happened. Finally,

he spoke.

“I imagine a man was involved somehow last night?”

I wished it was that simple, but I had to start somewhere.

“Yes. That was the trigger,” I replied.

“The trigger for what?”

I looked at him and the distress must have shown in my face.

“Penny, we don‟t have to talk about this if you don‟t want to.”

I was afraid but I longed to talk to him.

“It‟s okay. This is not easy for me to talk about. I‟m not good

at sharing my feelings, particularly with men.”

He gave me one of those half-smiles that conveyed both

sympathy and an understanding of my suffering. He did not

interrupt and I realised that he expected something more.

“Last night I tried to follow your advice. I sat down after I

came off the phone, made myself a coffee and tried to write

down what was troubling me. I could have written pages and

pages of trivia; lots of tiny agonies; irritations with things at

work; lots of conflicting emotions about how angry I feel about

things that happened in the past. All the boyfriends I dumped,

their irritating habits, the bastards that dumped me, or didn‟t call

me, or made me feel beautiful when they were trying to get in

my knickers, but then backed off when I opened my heart in

response to their lovely words. I could have written about how

jealous I am of my sister. She‟s found a man to love her and

now has a beautiful child that she dotes on. I could have written

Friends or Lovers

about the distance I feel from my mother for the way she used to

look at me when I brought boyfriends home. I could tell she

thought I was little better than a tramp so I dug my heels in and

took my boyfriends up to my bedroom just to make her mad.”

I stopped for a second to gather my recollections. I noticed

that he was listening intently so I continued.

“I fought her for years. She thought I was „too young‟ for

boyfriends! How can you choose things like that? I was ready

at 14. I had passion in me, John, real passion and I did not want

to wait until some stupid outdated law said I could sleep with

boys. You‟d think my father would be the one to object, but no,

it was my mother who was constantly critical. There were times

we would hit each other, but I would not be controlled.”

He nodded.

“Well, all this was going through my head last night while I

held the pad. Do you know what I wrote in the end?”

It was a rhetorical question, but he followed form by asking me

anyway.

And then I said it. I said out loud the words that I‟d hidden in

my head for years.

“I‟m lonely, John. Really lonely.”

As I said the words, I felt my eyes moisten again and I looked

at him. And then I got a total shock. I could see a single tear

rolling down his left cheek. He was crying. He was crying.

“John!” I started. “What is it, John?”

“Come here,” he said, and just as my sister had earlier in the

day, he offered his arms and I fell into them. Unlike my sister,

however, his arms were larger and stronger. They made me feel

safer and all warm inside.

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He rocked me gently from side to side for a few seconds. Then

he released me and started to walk again. I wished that I could

have stayed in his arms for longer, but it would not have been

right.

“I‟ve made all my own choices, never let anybody run my life

for me, or be my slave.”

He gave me a sideways glance.

“But at such a high price…” he responded.

I was not sure what he meant, so I gave him a puzzled look.

“All that „control‟, all that „competence‟, all that

„professionalism‟ comes at a high price, don‟t you think?”

And I did think, but I was still not sure what he meant. He

spoke more.

“When was the last time you felt like this, talked like this?”

I thought hard. I could not remember a time when I had cried

like this….. My God! I looked at him.

“Not since my first day at university. After my parents drove

away, I sat alone in my room and felt so unbearably alone that I

cried my eyes out.”

“And by the end of the day, I‟ll bet, you had made several

girlfriends who later became your enemies. And after your first

disco, you had lads competing to become your boyfriend.”

I smiled.

“Yes. But those few hours were the loneliest. Unbearable.”

“We all need intimacy in our lives, Penny, even hard-nosed

career women.”

As he said this he cupped my cheek with his hand. It was such

a gentle gesture, something that my father might have done to

me as he put me to bed. For the first time in years, I felt the

Friends or Lovers

warmth of a man‟s love and I could not stop my head incline

itself towards his soft touch.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” he asked as we

resumed our stroll.

I was not sure, but I felt I should give him something to

understand why I‟d called.

“I fell out with the person I picked up at a bar. He walked out.

All that loneliness – it just crashed down on me and I had to talk

to you. I felt I just had to hear your voice.”

“Why mine?” he asked.

That, indeed, was the question I did not want to answer. I had

to say something, however.

“Because if there is anyone who can help me unravel the

minefield that stands between men and women, I guess it is you.

You‟re an expert in it, after all.”

I detected his pleasure at hearing this.

“Not an expert, Penny. It is just something I take a keen

interest in.”

Suddenly some words popped out of my mouth that I did not

intend.

“Help me, John.”

There was a pregnant pause while he considered the import of

what I had just said.

“Of course I will,” he said reassuringly. “I‟ll try.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 17

Over the next few hours we took in the views around Warwick,

lunched in a tea shop, climbed a tower, laughed, joked,

discussed politics, the meaning of life, travelled to deepest outer

space, and generally just chilled together. I was more relaxed

with him than I had been with any man for over a decade,

perhaps more relaxed with him than any man except my father.

Our conversation never stopped all day. Wherever we were,

whatever we did, we talked and exchanged thoughts constantly.

The sexual tension was always there. My attraction to him

never completely left me, and the way his eyes fixed themselves

on me sometimes, I could tell that he was sucking in my beauty

so that he could savour and bathe in it.

His eyes were not lustful, just filled with the admiration a

person might feel looking at a beautiful portrait or marvelling at

a moment of cinematic brilliance. He looked at me as if he was

searching my soul, not ogling my body, and it filled me with a

confidence that I could not explain. I admired him, but the

desire to seduce him slowly ebbed away. I just wanted to be

with him, occupy the same space, hear his voice, and know that

he was nearby.

By late afternoon, he suggested that we might like to eat at

Pizza Hut again. I felt, however, that I should take him

somewhere special to thank him for the day out. I chose my

favourite Italian, a place tucked away in a cobbled side street

that was quiet enough to have a hint of romance, but with a

festive atmosphere.

“How‟s that problem at work you had?” he asked, as we

started on our desserts.

Friends or Lovers

“Which problem is that?” I answered without looking up.

“You mean there are so many?”

“Can we utter a sentence without it being a question?” I asked.

“I don‟t know. Can we?” he said with his smile broadening all

the time.

“What was your question again?” was my retort.

“My first, second or third question?” he said chuckling.

“Do you want to ask the first one?” I was not giving up first.

“The one about the problem you had at work.”

“Gotcha. Fifteen love.” I said with a victory salute.

His face told me that he was interested in more than the game,

so I dropped the stupid stuff and regained my composure.

“Work. Yeah. Things have moved on a bit. Things don‟t

seem to be quite right. The more I talk to the man, the more I

sense that he‟s trying to be straight with me. The more I learn

about the woman‟s situation…… Well, he seems more on the

level than I first thought, but he‟s hiding something from me,

not just about the current incident but about a past relationship

too. She‟s a prude for sure, but I think she is holding back on an

incident with somebody in the team. I get the feeling that some

sexual shit is going on that nobody wants to talk about. What

about your friend?

“I‟ve only had one update, but I should get the full story soon –

we‟ll be working together on a project.”

“So what‟s the story there?”

“Well, it has been difficult at home for him. The problem at

work has made things worse at home.”

“Why‟s that?”

“He thinks it will be okay, but he‟s very sensitive about what

happened.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Why?”

“To explain that I‟d have to go way back.”

“I‟m in no rush,” I said.

“Okay. Well he had a difficult period with his wife

about….er…four years, yes, about four years ago. He‟s a really

sweet guy. One of his colleagues was having marital problems

and she started talking to him about them – eventually she

admitted she was being abused by her husband.”

“Not a situation you come across every day,” I commented

“Not something you hear about every day,” he clarified.

“Anyway, he gave her support but after a few weeks they had a

real heart to heart and she said she wanted to get out.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, that night he collected her from her home and took her

to his. His wife was not pleased, but he convinced her that he‟d

no choice. She became his lodger for several months while they

waited for a vacancy at a refuge. He helped her furnish her

room. Later he helped her find and move into a flat – he even

gave her the money for a deposit.”

“I bet his wife did not like that!”

“Yeah. Right. Big problem. Big rows. His wife accused him

of having an affair, and to this day he has always denied it. The

money thing was too much for her and she threw him out. So he

stayed with his woman friend as her lodger for a while. It took a

few months but eventually his wife came around and let him

come back home. She took him back but made him promise

never to get involved with another woman again.”

“So how does that have a bearing on his current problem?”

“From what I gather he started to help another woman at work

who had been having problems at home. He didn‟t want to let

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her down, but he also didn‟t want her to get too close to him. So

he backed off and upset her. He changed jobs and only told his

wife afterwards.”

I felt sorry for this guy. He sounded like he really cared for

both his wife and his work colleagues and just wanted to help

everybody. John was relaxed while we chatted and I could tell

he cared about his friend. In fact, I got a feeling that John just

cared about people. There didn‟t seem to be anyone in his life

that he did not like.

“John. I‟ve enjoyed today.”

It was one of those leading phrases, one that invites intimacy.

“Penny. I‟ve enjoyed today too,” and he gave me that same

warm smile that I remembered from our first meeting.

“Do you…..” I stopped. This was risky. Did I have the

courage to say it? “Do you….”

Hell, why was I so nervous? I hate my nerves.

“Do……ah!”

Then he did something that really startled me. He took my

hands in his.

“Sometimes things don‟t need to be said.”

Inside I could feel my heart pumping and my breathing

quicken. I said it anyway.

“Do you….ever fantasise about me?” I asked.

Whatever he had expected, I don‟t think it was this because he

immediately raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He took one

hand away and squeezed his nose.

“I‟ll answer that question if you will tell me why you‟re asking

it.”

Why was I asking it? I was not sure.

“Deal.” I said.

Rory Ridley-Duff

He hesitated, but only for a moment.

“The answer is „Yes‟, but not when I‟m making love to my

wife.”

I felt a peculiar sensation; a deep pleasure that he thought of

me sexually, but disappointment that he mentioned his wife.

Clearly he wanted me to know that I would not take her place.

“Your turn,” he said, reminding me of the pact.

I hesitated. I shuddered because I realised why I‟d asked him

this question. I wanted to tell him I fantasised about him. I

wanted to tell him about the night before, about the way things

had unfolded. I tensed, and he noticed immediately and took my

hands again.

“Last night…..” I stopped and looked down into my lap.

“Last night?” he queried.

I could feel the emotion rising in me again. I was not sure if I

had the courage to say it. I closed my eyes and summoned my

strength. Was this going to lead to disaster? I wanted to tell

him. I wanted to share this, but I did not want him to reject me.

“I….,” my hands started to shake.

“Penny, Penny. You don‟t need to say it.”

I never trusted anyone so why did I want to trust him? What

was I doing here with him? He was married and we were

holding hands in a restaurant while his family was a hundred

miles away. This was crazy. I wanted to share my humiliation

with him, to tell him the part he had played in it. What if he was

angry? What if I spoiled the whole day? What if it ruined our

friendship?

“I….,” but I stopped again.

“You don‟t need to say it,” he repeated.

Friends or Lovers

I made an attempt at a smile, but it was not a very convincing

one.

I felt the tears fill my eyes again and I looked up at him. He

gave my hands a little squeeze to keep me reassured. My whole

body was rigid, tears were dripping down my face, and I

shuffled awkwardly in my seat. I had never talked like this with

anyone, not my sister, not my mother, not my father or any of

my boyfriends. I looked up, letting the tears roll. I could not

say the words. I just could not. John got up from his seat, came

around to my side of the table and pulled up his chair. He put

his right arm around my back, and stroked my cheek with his

left hand. Through my sobs I suddenly heard the sound of my

own voice.

“It was awful. ….as he was fucking me I started to think of

you, and then I blurted out your name.”

“Shit! I bet that cooled his ardour,” he said with a laugh.

I laughed, with relief mostly. I laughed and suddenly I felt it

was okay to carry on.

“You bet it did. He got really mad at me. And then he left.

And…and…”

His hand was rubbing my back and it felt lovely.

“…I felt so alone. I‟m so sorry I rang you. I can‟t believe I‟m

telling you this. I should not be telling you this.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Why?” I said with astonishment.

“Yes, why?” he asked again.

“Are you crazy? You‟re married and I‟m pouring out these

feelings to you. I shouldn‟t be saying this.”

“So we‟ve broken the rules. Big deal. You‟re attracted to me.

I‟m attracted to you. I like that – it‟s honest. People normally

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make each other miserable because they can‟t express or share

the simplest feelings.”

He paused.

“That took courage, didn‟t it?”

“More than you‟ll ever know,” I responded.

I was not sure where to go from here but it did not matter

because he carried on talking.

“Somebody once said to me that there is no such thing as a

non-sexual relationship between a man and a woman. There are

only sexual relationships where they agree not to have sex.”

There was a prolonged silence during which neither of us

dared to ask the question that was on both our minds.

“I love it that you are attracted to me,” he finally said.

“Why?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

“Because my fantasies will be much more exciting now!”

I laughed again. How did he make this happen? How did he

take my troubles away at the very moment I felt more vulnerable

than ever before?

“I can‟t believe how close I feel to you,” I said.

He was quiet for a while and just rocked me in his arms. It

was my turn to break the silence.

“I feel a bit better.”

“Thank you,” he said.

He was so strange. Why was he thanking me for sobbing all

over him?

“What for?”

“For sharing this.”

“You are really weird,” I said.

“I tried Mr Normal,” he interjected, “but I couldn‟t keep it up!”

I shook my head as my smile returned.

Friends or Lovers

“And thank you,” I said at last.

“You‟re welcome,” he responded.

He asked the waitress for coffee then continued.

“Where are we going to find you a good man, then?”

I wanted to say I‟d found one, but I knew that it was not the

right thing to say.

“Are there any left?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. So long as you know where to look.”

I was about to say that I thought he must be joking, but on this

occasion I let it pass. I was not about to start another debate.

“Where?” I queried.

“Have you looked at work?” he asked.

“I don‟t think people react well to women in positions of

authority having sexual relationships at work.”

“Why on earth not?” he reacted. “Isn‟t that why people go to

work?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why is work any different from anywhere else?”

“It‟s a place of work, surely?”

“Employerspeak!” he laughed. “If not at work, where will you

find Mr Right?”

His question was rhetorical. I could not think of any good

prospects at work that were not already in relationships and

said so.

“And you know that they are happy and committed?”

“Well no, I don‟t,” I answered.

“Find out. Perhaps you‟ve already met him?” he suggested.

“I can hardly ask them,” I said.

“You don‟t need to ask. All you need to do is get the person

you are interested in talking about their life. Take an interest.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

We drank the last of our coffee and I paid the bill. Then, he

drove me back to my house and walked me to the door. In the

movies we might have kissed, but I just knew that we would not.

At the door, he hugged me, pecked me on the cheek, then

returned to the car and gave me a salute as he drove off.

I wanted him to come in, but I knew he needed to get back

home to his family. He‟d given up a whole Saturday for me and

it was important that I should not intrude further on his time. I

find it difficult to describe how I feel now. I‟ve been more

distraught today than I can ever remember, but inside I now feel

like I‟m walking on water. This is not like the butterflies of

teenage love, but a tingling feeling burrowing into the darkest

caverns of my soul, a warmth so spiritual that I can feel my

humanity light up. He makes me want to be a better person, to

live more, risk more, and share the best of myself. Is this, I

wonder, how people feel when they first experience the deepest

kind of love?

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 18

Due to a lot of demands on my time, when I got to work the

weekend was purged from my mind. Phil was first to update

me. He had been diligently taking lunch with Elona‟s team and

learned that a number of the men enjoyed teasing her and flirting

with her. According to them, Elona was pretty off-hand with all

of them except one. Nathan was a lad in his mid-twenties and

the general consensus was that she had a crush on him. Nathan

himself was not that interested although he did join in some of

the flirting. Phil thought this was more to bond with his mates

than to pursue Elona.

“They are surprised that she accused Mike. Most of his team

said that he was very gentlemanly. He was careful how he

behaved and spoke around everyone, particularly Elona.

I was perplexed by this. It did not seem to fit. Even Mike had

admitted to me that he‟d flirted with her. I nodded for Phil to

continue.

“Then there‟s this Nathan!” Phil said.

“What about him?”

“He was quite cagey when the others were talking. He did not

volunteer anything and I got the feeling that the whole

conversation made him uncomfortable.”

“D‟you think I should talk to him?” I asked.

“Well. If you ask me, the relationship between Elona and

Nathan is connected to all of this somehow. I don‟t understand

how Mike fits in – maybe he got jealous or something – but I

feel there must be a connection somewhere.”

“Okay. What about Mike and Sally?” I enquired.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Yeah. I was right about that. He did live with her for a while.

She‟s one of the people who transferred with him to the new

team. Nobody is completely sure why they are so close, but

they did live together for a few months. But they don‟t live

together now, he‟s back with his wife. It all sounds kind of

bizarre. If they‟d had an affair and split up, why would she want

to keep working with him? It doesn‟t make sense.”

I was puzzled too, but there was nothing to be gained by

discussing it now.

“Okay. Well done. I‟ll have a word with Dave. We seem to

be getting closer. Perhaps it is time for another chat with Elona.

Then I‟ll speak to Nathan.”

I had to set this to one side for the moment. The marketing

manager, Jo, had enlisted Mike‟s support to get his team some

training in consumer behaviour. As I was up to my eye-balls

helping Dave bring on board some new inventors, I was keen to

off-load this. She said that she had worked with a consultant

several times and wanted to bring him in again. I could not see

any reason to object, so I signed off a purchase order for 30 days

consultancy and left her to get on with it.

I thought back to my weekend conversation. John had

suggested I look for a partner at work for two reasons. Firstly,

most people meet their marriage partner in a workplace setting.

Secondly, he claimed that nearly half of all married women

chose their job in order to find a partner. I told him the second

one must be rubbish, but he provided me with a source. I

promptly went to WH Smith and bought the book. Sure enough

he was right. I found the statistics both staggering and

appalling. In this modern age, after 40 years of gender equality,

who would have thought this? To think that hoards of women at

Friends or Lovers

work were actively looking for husbands. The thought actually

annoyed me. Who, I wondered, was searching for a husband in

our workplace?

* * *

“Come in Penny,” said Dave.

“Hi. So what needs doing today?” I asked.

“We need to draw up three contracts. I‟ve got Clive Preston

coming over from London, Brian Thwaite from Birmingham,

and Claire Nunn from Glasgow.”

“A woman?” I remarked. “Rare that?”

“Yes. But a good find. She‟s a remarkable designer and has

assembled a small team of engineers to make customised

kitchenware. They manufacture through companies in

Sheffield. She‟s ready for exposure and now has a large

portfolio. I‟m sure you‟d be impressed.”

I‟d never pictured Dave as someone with either the inclination

or ability to appreciate cutlery and kitchenware.

“Careful,” I commented, “your wife will be asking for

freebies.”

He gave me an odd look. I did my best to ignore it and

returned to the issue at hand.

“Okay. Standard Terms?” I asked.

“For Claire and Clive yes, but Brian will be getting 25%”

“Is he worth it?” I asked.

“We‟ll see in due course. We are poaching him away from his

current distributor so I had to offer a bit extra. He also wants

help recruiting marketing support staff and I said we‟d be able to

help. Sorry I didn‟t ask you beforehand. Is that okay?”

Rory Ridley-Duff

He gave me one of his hopeful looks, opened his palms and

shrugged his shoulders. He really could look quite cute at times.

I made his request sound like an imposition, but I did not mind.

“I‟ll see what I can do…..”

As I made to go, he touched my arm to stop me.

“By the way,” he added, “my wife doesn‟t buy stuff for the

house any more.”

“Why‟s that?” I asked.

He looked hesitant.

“She‟s…..not well.”

“I‟m sorry to hear that. I hope she gets better soon.”

It was not often that Dave ever talked about anything outside

work and it took me a bit by surprise. I confirmed the contract

details with him one last time and then remembered that I

wanted to ask him about Mike and Sally.

“There is something else,” I said. “I‟ve been putting together a

picture of our sales manager friend and it seems that he has a

mystery relationship with Sally, one of the local sales reps. Do

you know anything about that?”

Dave pondered and raised his eyebrows.

“I heard they shared a flat for a while. Lots of rumours flying

about, just tittle tattle, I imagine.”

“Come on, Dave. Spill it,” I insisted.

“Well, most people just think they had a fling – that they

moved into a flat together and that it didn‟t work out so he left.”

Something in his tone suggested that he had something else to

add.

“And?” I asked with an expectant look.

“…..and I don‟t believe that. I used to get on well with one of

Sally‟s colleagues and it seems that she moved in with him and

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his wife. That‟s not the sort of thing that she would do if she

was having an affair him. Unless the affair came later, of

course.”

Dave paused for a smirk, and then carried on.

“No. I think Sally had some domestic crisis and Mike offered

her a way out. Anyway, it caused no end of problems in his

marriage and Sally had to move out. Then Mike joined her, I

think. Not sure what happened after that – all I know is that his

personal life got into a real mess for a while. I‟m not a

rumourmonger. What he does in his own time is really not our

business.”

“He‟s back with his wife now.” I said.

“Really?” he said with surprise. “Interesting. Bet Sally was

pissed when he went back,” he remarked.

“Apparently not,” I said, “They still get on well. She asked to

carry on working with him recently when he moved jobs.”

“Feathering two nests, you think?”

I sensed that there was no love lost between Dave and Mike.

“Maybe. Not sure. What is it with you and him?” I enquired.

“Oh. I‟ve no strong feelings. I just think that whenever people

let their personal and professional lives get confused things can

become very messy.”

My sentiment entirely, I thought.

“He should‟ve left well alone, I think.” He paused for a

moment as pieces of the jigsaw were reassembled in his head.

“How does this link to Elona?” he finally asked.

“Not sure. Should find out soon. I‟m meeting Elona in a few

minutes, then Nathan. I think we‟ll get to the bottom of this

soon.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Okay. Keep me posted. When you have a complete picture

we can discuss how to bust up this secret network.”

I had not realised before how similar Dave and I were in our

outlook but it pleased me that we shared this point of view. I

thanked him and returned to my department to meet Elona.

With Dave‟s support, I felt ready to get to the bottom of things

and achieve closure.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 19

“Come in, come in,” I said as I welcomed Elona into my

office.

“Do you mind if Phil sits in on this one?”

Elona looked around the room and rubbed her ear. She looked

unsure but answered positively.

“If you want him to stay, I guess that‟s okay with me.”

“Thanks. He knows more about this situation than I do, so I‟d

like him here.”

Elona shuffled in her seat and looked uncomfortable.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea?” I asked.

She lifted her hand to decline the offer, but I decided to ask

Phil to make one for me anyway. It would give me a moment to

put Elona at her ease. As Phil left the room, I got up from my

chair and sat beside her.

“Elona. There!” I said, as I put my hand on her shoulder.

“Don‟t worry. This is just a quiet chat to establish what has

been going on. Phil‟s been following up on some of your

concerns and we want to discuss a few things with you. There‟s

no need to worry.”

Despite my calm and sympathetic words I detected an increase

in her nervousness. She would not look at me and her hands

were clasped together on her knees.

“Elona. Before Phil comes back, is there anything you want to

share with me privately?”

She glanced at me and shook her head quickly in denial.

Phil entered the room with two cups of tea and a glass of

water. He put one cup on my desk, keeping the other for

himself. Although Elona had declined the tea, she immediately

Rory Ridley-Duff

picked up the glass of water and drank half of it. As she put the

glass down, she summoned up a slight smile and I felt ready to

begin.

“Thanks for coming in again,” I began, and she looked a little

more relaxed. “As I was saying earlier, we are grateful that you

made a complaint and raised some important issues. Phil‟s

talked to others in your team and they admit they behaved

inappropriately to you. I‟ll be talking to them in due course.”

Elona seemed to relax when I told her this.

“What they say is that they flirted with you, you ignored them,

and they stopped. Would you agree with that?”

Elona said nothing but nodded her agreement.

“Thanks for that,” I said reassuringly.

“There is one thing, however.”

“What‟s that?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

I looked squarely at her.

“Well, the lads in the team said that one of them, called

Nathan, gave you some attention and that you did not seem to

mind.”

At the mention of Nathan‟s name, Elona immediately went

bright red and got extremely agitated.

“Elona. Elona. It is alright. If you like Nathan‟s attention,

nobody minds.”

She looked down at the table in front of her, saying nothing. I

tried to calm the atmosphere further, but clearly this was a

sensitive matter and she was deeply embarrassed. Phil chipped

in too.

“Elona. Nobody is judging you, love. We just need to

understand whether there is any link between this and the

incident with Mike? Is there?”

Friends or Lovers

Elona seemed to be petrified by this suggestion and started to

shake. I remembered that Mike said he would talk if Elona gave

her permission. I tried a new tack.

“Mike mentioned that you confided some information in him.

He has refused to talk about it because he gave you his word that

he wouldn‟t.”

At this, Elona looked up at me and her mouth dropped open.

She was clearly fighting back tears but to my surprise she started

to nod.

“Yes? You did confide in Mike?”

She nodded again.

“Something about Nathan?” Phil asked.

She nodded again.

“Mike won‟t speak about it without your permission. Would

you give your permission?”

At this suggestion, her face went red again and her eyes filled

with moisture. Her shaking got more acute and suddenly she

exploded.

“No! No! No! I don‟t want to talk to anyone about any of

this. Leave me alone!” She got up and ran out of the room in

tears. Phil got up to follow her, but I shot him a look that he

should let her go.

“Not now,” I said. “Let her calm down. We can always go

and see her later.”

“Fuck!” offered Phil. “Some serious shit has happened to her.

That‟s for sure!”

I felt angry that Elona was still so distressed. It fuelled my

desire to find out more.

“Go get Nathan!” I commanded Phil.

“Now?” he asked.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Yes! Now!” I said raising my voice. Phil held up both his

hands as if to hold me at bay and quietly made his way out of

the room.

My mind was spinning again. What had Nathan done to her?

Had he raped her? Had she confided this in Mike? Had Mike

done nothing? Had Mike tried to take advantage? Why was she

later upset with Mike and not Nathan? None of this seemed to

make any sense. As I was running over all these things in my

mind, Phil returned with suspect in hand. I was in no mood to

be pushed around any more.

“Nathan. Come on in. Take a seat.”

He sat down, looking as puzzled as he was concerned.

“I‟ve just had Elona in here and clearly something has

happened between you and her. She is extremely distressed.

Can you explain?”

Nathan seemed to go completely white and started reeling in

his chair.

“Fuck!” he said as his eyes seemed to look everywhere in the

room except at Phil or myself. But no more words came forth. I

started to get angry again.

“Nathan,” I said. “Look at me!”

Nathan looked pale and distressed but finally looked me in the

eye.

“Tell me what happened.”

“What has Elona said?” he asked.

“Nothing. That is why I am asking you.”

Nathan held my gaze and did not flinch for even a fraction of a

second.

“I would like to leave, please,” he asked.

Friends or Lovers

Phil, who was sitting in the corner, seemed to get agitated and

looked at me and if to indicate that he should be allowed to go.

That did not satisfy me, however.

“Nathan,” I said, “Let me be completely open with you…..”

I saw Nathan‟s lips go tight and the whites of his teeth show.

Phil was gently moving his head from side to side to indicate

„no‟, but my anger got the better of me and I let rip.

“We have a situation here. Someone in Elona‟s team has made

a sexual advance. She is seriously distressed and will not talk.

She confided something to Mike, but he will not talk either.

You can either give me an account of your behaviour or I‟ll call

a disciplinary hearing. You can give a full account to your line

manager and myself. What is it to be?”

I imagine that while I said this, the whites of my teeth were

showing too. With Phil in the room I felt a bit bolder.

Nathan, still calm and unflinching, gave me a look of absolute

disgust. Phil, in the corner, was looking down at the floor as if

he could not bear to watch what was happening.

“You don‟t have a fucking clue, do you?” Nathan started.

“About what?” I fired back.

“A fucking clue about anything….” he added.

“If you use that type of language once more, I‟ll suspend you

here and now. Do you understand?”

“I would like to leave, please,” he asked again.

“No!” I shouted. “You tell me what happened, or I will have

to take this to your line manager first thing in the morning.”

Phil looked as white as a sheet. What on earth was going on

here? Nathan kept looking at me and was unmoved.

“I would like to leave, please,” he repeated without showing

any anger.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Okay, you have made your choice. I would like you here at

10am tomorrow morning with your line manager. You may

go.”

Holding my gaze, he slowly left the room with hatred burning

in his eyes. I could feel them pierce me right through. I was

glad that Phil was in the room. Shaken as I was, I held myself

together and summoned Phil over. The situation felt like it was

getting out of control, but I had one more card to play.

“Right. Firstly, go immediately to Nathan‟s manager and

inform him of the meeting at 10am.”

Phil nodded.

“Is Mike still in the building?”

“Sorry?” asked Phil, who seemed taken aback at this question.

“Is Mike still in the building?”

Phil looked unsure. If he‟d been more experienced, perhaps he

would have suggested that I sleep on this, but he was too

intimidated. Still looking shaken himself, Phil nodded a „yes‟.

“Okay, I want you to get Mike and bring him here

immediately. Do not take no for an answer. Is that clear?”

Phil obediently did as I asked while I made myself another cup

of tea. I felt on a roll, as if everything was coming together.

Nathan must have made a pass at Elona. Maybe she didn‟t

reciprocate and got upset. I imagine she tried to confide this in

Mike. Then again, what if Elona did want Nathan to make a

pass? Perhaps he seduced her, then dumped her. Whichever is

true, she tried to confide in Mike and he tried to handle it

„within the team‟. Idiot. What a bloody amateur. He must have

suggested they go out for a drink and then said something that

upset her. Whatever he said made Elona mad. This kind of

Friends or Lovers

stuff really makes my blood boil. Always the woman who gets

hurt; always the man who gets away with it.

Phil returned with Mike, who stormed into my office with an

irritated look on his face.

“What the hell is this? I was in a meeting with my team and

Phil tells me that you have an emergency. What is so urgent it

cannot wait until morning?”

“Sit down, Mike. It has come to light that there is a

relationship problem between Elona and Nathan and that she

reported this to you. I want to know what she said and how you

handled it.”

Mike raised his hands and grabbed his head in despair.

“I told you to back off this. What on earth are you doing?”

“Don‟t piss me around, Mike.”

Phil had again retreated to the corner of the room and was

looking uncomfortable.

“Okay, okay. Sit down and let‟s talk about this,” he said

ushering me into my chair with his open palm.

“So where d‟you want to start?” he asked.

“What‟s the relationship problem between Elona and Nathan?”

I asked.

“Have you talked to Elona?” he responded.

“Yes. She got so upset that she left the room in tears. She

won‟t talk about it.”

Mike, surprisingly, seemed to slow down and take this in. He

looked away as he thought for a moment, and then he rubbed his

cheek.

“I‟m not surprised,” he finally said.

“Why?” I asked.

He looked me calmly in the eye.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Because this situation is probably the most upsetting thing

that has ever happened to her.”

“Are you going to tell me about it?” I asked again.

“Did you ask her if she‟d mind me talking?” he asked.

“I did and she confirmed that she had confided in you,” I

replied.

“Did you ask her if she was okay about you talking to me?” he

repeated.

“Yes, but she did not answer,” I confessed.

“They why don‟t you respect her wishes?” he asked.

I began to wonder who was conducting this enquiry, him or

me.

“There may have been a breach of the law and I have a duty of

care towards her.”

“A duty of care! You call this a duty of care?” he asked

accusingly.

“She‟s distressed. I cannot help her unless I understand the

cause of the distress,” I responded keeping my calm.

“Did it ever occur to you this witch-hunt is the cause of her

distress?”

His words inflamed me.

“How dare you! If people told me what the fuck is going on

then we could sort this mess out. I‟m trying to help her. Why

can‟t you see that?”

“Oh, I can see that alright. She is of great concern to you.

And what about Nathan? What about me? Are you concerned

about us too?”

“What? What on earth are you going on about?” If looks

could have killed, then Mike would have been dead on the floor

in an instant.

Friends or Lovers

“I‟m asking you why you only seem concerned to protect

Elona?”

“You arrogant bastard. She is the one who is distressed and

somewhere in this heap of shit Nathan or you did something to

cause that distress. You are not going to wriggle out of this.”

“And what did Nathan tell you?” he asked.

I resented him asking all the questions, but I did not know how

to respond.

“He would not talk. He seemed to think that I don‟t know

what I‟m talking about.”

Mike gave a small laugh.

“What‟s so funny?” I said angrily.

“Because he‟s right.”

“You think you are so fucking clever! Well, not this time.

One of you is going to answer for Elona‟s distress. One of you

is going to answer for what happened.”

Suddenly, Mike snapped and shouted at me in a way that

reverberated in the marrow of my bones.

“You stupid woman!”

I was bright red with anger and started to defend myself.

“You sexist bastard….. my being a woman has nothing to do

with it…….”

Mike, however, pointed an accusing finger at me and carried

on.

“It‟s got everything to do with it. Did it ever occur to you that

it might be Elona who made a pass at Nathan? Did it ever occur

to you that Nathan was the one receiving unwanted attention?

Did it ever occur to you that Elona might have made accusations

because she felt rejected and hurt? No, not for one second!”

Rory Ridley-Duff

He paused for a moment and seemed to calm down. I was so

shocked that I did not know what to say. After a moment, Mike

got ready to speak again. This time, his voice was much calmer

but the words cut into me and I felt a shiver run through my

body.

“Tell me, Penny,” he said as he fixed his gaze on me, “have

you ever made a pass at a man?”

Then he calmly walked out of the room.

There have only been a few occasions in my life when I have

been completely lost for words. This was one of them. It took

me a full 10 minutes to calm down and regain my composure,

during which time Phil remained seated. I looked at the cold

cup of tea on my desk and gave a short laugh. What had just

happened? I looked up at Phil and beckoned him over to my

desk. He came over slowly looking as shaken and as shocked as

me.

“Sit down,” I said. “Tell me honestly, Phil,” I asked, “What

d‟you think of what he just said?”

Phil looked uncomfortable. His mouth opened several times

without any words coming out. He found it difficult to look at

me, and his hands fidgeted on his knees. With his eyes fixed on

the desk, he eventually ventured an opinion.

“Mike‟s an awkward bugger, isn‟t he?”

I grabbed my head with both hands.

“What a mess. What a total fucking mess! Call Mike and tell

him that I want him back here at 10am tomorrow.”

Phil looked at me and nodded slowly.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 20

When I was young, my father told me that my instincts and

emotions were my greatest assets. He was an unusual man.

While many people, particularly men, put great stock in

objectivity and science, my father was quite different. I think it

was his career inside the civil service that inclined him towards

a political way of thinking, including a view that science was

rarely scientific. He argued that science was always oriented

towards a political goal, even if that goal was a modest one such

as building the scientist‟s reputation. As such, he had a strong

spiritual side that, if not religious, was imbued with deeply

human values.

Emotion, he would say, is the key to a deeper understanding.

Scientists, he argued, were doing themselves a disservice when

they argued that emotion had no place in science. He would ask

me why I enjoyed learning some things but not others. He

would ask me why I liked some people and not others.

Intertwined in our deliberations, he always pressed me to talk

about the underlying reason for my interest in something.

Together we had many conversations in which we traced my

interest back to an emotional experience or aspiration. His

words echoed in my head.

“When we are interested in something, Penny, it is because it

moves us emotionally. We don‟t study a subject because it is

intrinsically interesting – if that were true then everybody would

be interested in the same things. We study something because it

is interesting to us. It is interesting to us because it is

meaningful.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Don‟t you find it strange when people talk about being

motivated? They talk as if the thing that motivates them is

outside themselves. So strange. Emotion is what drives us!

When people say we should not let emotion affect our

judgement they forget that it‟s emotion that inclines us to make

a judgement in the first place.

“Just look at what we do when we desire someone‟s attention.

We open our mind to their views, become more willing to learn

things they are interested in, more willing to change our own

values. We may find ourselves learning new skills, studying

new things in order to impress them. Our behaviour and

feelings can change dramatically. And the reverse! What

monsters we can be when we don‟t want a relationship. We‟re

at our most cruel when trying to get people out of our lives.”

Despite his slightly pompous manner, my love for him grew

with the conviction that there was wisdom in his words. My

mother, on the other hand, would often walk out of the room and

leave us to it. She said my father talked twaddle about sex. I

disliked her for that – she seemed to deliberately misunderstand

him - and this was one of the reasons she and I argued

throughout my teens. To me, my father was, and is, more

humane than anyone else I‟ve met.

Why does this situation with Elona and Mike make me so

angry? Why does Mike rub me up the wrong way? What is the

deeper truth here? Is my past coming back to haunt me? My

father would say that if I want to hurt someone it is because they

have hurt me. Has Mike hurt me? Maybe it was the other way

around. Had I hurt him and he was now trying to get back at

me? My emotions did not settle and Mike‟s words kept echoing

in my head.

Friends or Lovers

“Did it ever occur to you that Nathan was the one who was

receiving unwanted attention?”

Had I considered this? It was an unfair question, I felt. It was

only the previous day that I had learned there was a Nathan at

all. I had no feelings about him except as yet another person

who was adding to Elona‟s distress. I tossed and turned

throughout the night and in every configuration, I could not

make the pieces fit the puzzle.

Elona would not make up an accusation like this, would she? I

couldn‟t buy Mike‟s view that Elona was the protagonist here.

It made no sense. Whenever I met her, she was quiet and

scared. She was as introverted as any person I had ever met.

Would a person like that make a move on Nathan? I did not see

how it was possible.

And yet, even as I had these thoughts, my emotions kept on

churning. Am I reacting to my own past? I can feel Elona‟s

hurt. I empathise with her. I may have the veneer of

confidence, but underneath I understand how it feels to be

crushed by the weight of male attention. We either buckle under

the weight or kick back.

In my first year at university, I felt used by men. At first I was

flattered. It was exciting, then confusing, and finally annoying.

My father helped me look at these as learning experiences.

Eventually, I committed to one lad, but later he cheated on me

and I was crushed. I fell apart and he quickly left me for

someone else. So, I decided that I‟d never again be a shrinking

violet. I would have the men I chose, not those that chose me. I

would no longer wait for a man to make up my mind, I would

make up my own.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Is my past affecting me now? Can I really understand her?

For the first time I am having real doubts. Do I understand what

she is going through?

I thought of Mike. Encountering him up close was disturbing

me. He is a good-looking man. Even at his age, I can see why

young women might be attracted to him. It is quite possible that

Elona likes him more than she‟s saying. All the other women

seem to like Mike. He‟s strong too. Both mentally and

physically.

I thought of John. Maybe he could help. He might have some

words of wisdom for me so I called him.

“Hi, Penny,” he said brightly as he answered the phone.

“Hi, John,” I replied.

As if by instinct, he immediately sensed concern in my voice.

“What‟s up?” he asked. “Are you still troubled by the

weekend?”

The weekend? That seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Good lord, no!” I laughed. As I did so, the burden of the last

few hours seemed to lift instantly.

“That‟s my girl” he responded.

I was a bit irritated by his use of the word „girl‟, but I let it

pass.

“I just thought I‟d pick your brains, if you don‟t mind. That

situation at work is spiralling out of control. I find it very

confusing and thought……” I hesitated for a moment.

Up until this point, I had never intruded into his professional

world to benefit my own. We‟d been intimate in a personal

way, but never professionally. This was something new. I

realised that I was crossing another line and inviting a new type

of relationship.

Friends or Lovers

“….I thought that maybe we could discuss it a bit more and

you could guide me a bit.”

I chose my words carefully. In this world, I was not an

amateur, and not seeking a fatherly opinion so much as a

professional dialogue.

“Sure, why not?” he answered without a moment‟s hesitation.

“Do you remember that I mentioned someone who had been

moved to a new job because he had distressed a young woman

in his department?” I asked.

“Yes. Sure I do. Has anything changed?” he asked.

“Perhaps. It seems there is another young lad involved and

that she and this other lad somehow got „involved‟ with each

other.” As I said the word „involved‟ I cringed, but there it was

tripping out of my lips before I could stop it.

“Involved in what way?” John enquired.

“That‟s not clear. She confided something to her boss about

this lad, but later she accused the boss of inappropriate

behaviour,” I said.

“Hmmm! This does sound a bit more complicated than you

first thought.”

“Yes. But the strangest thing is that the boss is now saying

that she had a crush on the lad, and that the situation was caused

by her giving him too much attention. How likely is that?”

I asked this as a rhetorical question, but John took it literally

and gave me a most peculiar answer.

“Most relationships are started by women in very subtle ways.

They initiate with non-verbal stuff that induces the man to talk

to her. It is fallacy that men always pursue and women always

resist; it is more like a ritual series of moves that women and

men make in turn. When it works everyone is happy. When it

Rory Ridley-Duff

doesn‟t things can turn quite nasty, particularly if one party feels

led on and then humiliated. Most of women‟s behaviours are

non-verbal, most of men‟s are verbal – at least initially.”

I paused for a moment unsure what to say next.

“Is that a surprise, Penny?” he asked.

“Well…..yes, I suppose it is. Men are always pursuing and

pestering women, don‟t you think?”

“If that is what you believe, it will look that way. I assure you

that it‟s not the case. Men tend to think they are making the first

move but often they are responding to a non-verbal cue. This is

true in most cultures. Women signal. Men respond. Women

comfort their own egos by thinking they have been singled out

by an attractive man. Men comfort their own egos by thinking

they‟ve initiated the relationship. Close observation, however,

shows women select the man they want and do everything they

can to ensure he notices them so that he starts a conversation.

These are generalisations. There are women who take verbal

initiatives but generally it is the other way around.

I was puzzled by this. I‟d studied psychology and this was the

opposite of what I had learnt.

“So you are saying this is only true for some people?” I asked.

He started to give me to fuller explanation.

“Men will respond quickly if an attractive woman signals,

providing they can overcome their own nerves. Many won‟t –

they‟ll get scared. But, if an unattractive woman signals in a

similar way, she may be ignored both verbally and non-

verbally.”

“Do men signal?” I asked, feeling a little more relaxed.

“Successful ones do, but most don‟t. Others jump in with both

feet at the first opportunity. Men who don‟t pay attention to a

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woman‟s signals will probably end up embarrassing

themselves.”

I stifled a laugh. Interesting as this was, I felt a need to direct

the discussion.

“Is it likely she made a pass at him?” I asked.

“Well, we are talking probabilities. I‟ve never met them and

different couples behave differently. All I can say is that it is

possible but against the norm. If she likes him enough, she‟ll

eventually make a move that he cannot ignore.”

“So this is unlikely?” I confirmed.

“I don‟t know the specifics, I‟m giving you behaviour patterns.

Men who get a signal will usually proceed fairly gently at first

to see whether they continue to get signals, such as prolonged

eye contact, laughter, positive body movements and such like.

This is often unconscious, just gut feeling stuff, but people have

been able to observe it. They‟ll only carry on if they are

interested, otherwise they‟ll ignore the signals. In these early

exchanges, a woman‟s behaviour generally encourages the man

to talk more, tell stories. If there is a mutual attraction,

behaviour moves through a series of stages. They‟ll exchange

personal information, start sharing opinions, talk about common

interests, increase their eye contact, turn towards each other,

start touching each other. Then you get a kind of game that

signals mutual interest. She lifts a glass, he lifts a glass, she

nods, he nods, she links his arm, he puts it around her, she

whispers in his ear, he laughs and says something back. Not

everyone agrees about the meaning of this, but in the trade it is

called „synchronisation‟ or „rapport building‟. You‟ll know if

this is happening in a group because a pair seem to be ignoring

everyone else.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

He paused for a second before making one final comment.

“If he doesn‟t respond, she‟ll feel rejected and may do

something to hurt his feelings. She‟ll give him an emotional

slap. Men are routinely humiliated. It is nothing special for

them,” he added with a light-hearted chuckle.

“No less than they deserve!” I replied quickly.

There was a moment of awkward silence as I contemplated my

last comment.

“Only kidding!” I added.

“Sure,” he said, but I detected a coolness in his tone.

I was still contemplating when he started to talk again.

“Penny, I‟m away in the Lakes this weekend, but would you

like to meet up next week to chat about it? You can give me

specifics. I‟m in Leamington next Wednesday afternoon and all

Thursday. We could meet in the morning if you are free.”

I could hear an urgency in his voice. It was unlike John to cut

short any conversation, so my defences were immediately

triggered.

“Errr….can you let me get my diary?” I asked to buy myself a

moment.

What is going on here? I wondered. I decided to ask directly.

“Is there something you need to do?” I asked.

He hesitated for a moment.

“Um. Sort of…” he responded, “….it will be easier to talk

next week. Are you free?”

I could hear other voices in the background and realised that

someone in the house was calling to him. It really pissed me off

that someone else only had to shout and he wanted to cut off our

conversation.

Friends or Lovers

“Let me see…..” I said, making him wait a bit longer,

“…..ah……yes…..maybe. No. No, yes!” I finally said, “I can

fit you in on Wednesday morning.”

“Okay, I‟ll e-mail you with a time and see you then.”

He rang off before saying goodbye.

I was not impressed. The conservation was not as friendly or

as pleasant as I had come to expect. I wondered if he resented

me asking him for a professional opinion. I could not

understand why he had been curt with me.

Still, his comments were interesting and useful. He confirmed

that it was unlikely Elona would have made the sexual advance,

but could have done so if Nathan had not been responding to

her. Phil told me that all the lads had flirted with her. If Nathan

had started flirting, from what John says, it is unlikely that Elona

would have felt any need to make an advance. No, I think I

have enough here to read the riot act to Nathan tomorrow if I

don‟t get answers.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 21

My sister has just called. She says she has news. Big news. I

imagine that she‟s pregnant again and wants to celebrate in

style. I still can‟t get used to being an aunty, but if another

sprog is going to come along I guess I‟ll just have to accept it

fully. Every time she does something grown up like this it

makes me feel a little bit older.

While I wait for her to come around, I tidy up the house.

There is not much to do. When I go around to Carole‟s, it

always looks like a bomb has hit it. Young Toby, Carole‟s boy,

has progressed from sitting up to rolling around. She called me

a few nights ago almost wetting herself with laughter.

“I just wish you could see him,” she said trying to contain

guffaws.

“Tell me what you see….” I dutifully command.

“Well. He‟s on his back with a rattle in his hand.

Wait………here he goes. Over onto his front now. Come on

baby, do your stuff!”

As I wait, trying to sound enthusiastic, she roars with laughter

as he manages to shift his weight again and roll onto his back.

“He‟s on his back, feet in the air, cooing and laughing. This is

just brill! I wish you could see this.”

Try as I might to understand how watching a baby roll over

and over can make her giggle like a schoolgirl, I just can‟t

fathom it out. Still, she‟s happy and that‟s what matters.

I tidy round the kitchen, put the few plates I‟ve used in the

dishwasher wondering just how lazy I can be. My windowsill is

adorned with an assortment of stones and rocks that I‟ve picked

up over the years, along with holders for utensils and

Friends or Lovers

instruments for practising my Nigella Lawson recipes.

Decadence! Just what the moment needs and I rustle around the

cupboard seeing if I have the ingredients for a calorie busting

meal. Just as the boredom is banished, the front doorbell rings.

I flick the switch on the kettle and amble back into the living

room.

“Come on in!” I shout. “The door‟s open….”

And in she walks looking groomed and beaming.

“Has someone given you a happy pill?” I ask

“No need,” she says.

I look her up and down to try to understand what is different. I

cannot put my finger on it but something has definitely changed

in her appearance.

“All right you. What is it?”

“Keep looking,” she says mysteriously.

I walk right up to her and put my hand on her stomach. It is

firm and flat. Absolutely no sign of a baby there, I think.

“Am I getting warm?” I ask.

She smiles, playing with me.

“Try a bit higher,” she says.

I give her a puzzled look and start to move my hand upwards.

Her breasts look quite firm today so I cup one in each hand.

“Don‟t tell me you‟ve had these done?”

“Better than that!” she jokes and with one swift move she

places her left hand on top of my right hand.

“See anything now?” she asks, with her smile getting wider all

the time.

I look carefully, tracing a line from her shoulder to her elbow.

Nothing special there, I think. I continue tracing a line from the

elbow to her hand. Her hand is different.

Rory Ridley-Duff

As I look at the image before me, I felt something in my sides

coarse up through my body. My mouth dropped open and I

barely heard myself speak as a wave of emotion moved through

my neck and my head started to tingle.

“When?” was the only word that came out. I could feel the

moisture start to fill my eyes.

“July 31st?”

“Oh, Carole!” I still felt in shock. “When did he ask?”

“Last night. He came home and told me that he‟d got another

promotion and had a present for me.”

“Some present!” I shouted and suddenly the tears were there. I

don‟t know why I was crying but the drops started to roll down

my face as I grabbed her with both my arms and squeezed her as

if my life depended on it.

“Be my „best woman‟?” she asked.

I took a step back and held both her arms, one with each hand.

“Your what?”

“My „best woman‟. I want a „best woman‟!”

I just looked at her unsure what to say. What do you say when

your younger sister displays a dazzling engagement ring and

asks you to be her „best woman‟? I pulled her to me and held

her tight. The tears just kept rolling down my cheeks.

“Careful sis‟,” she gasped, “I want to make it to the alter

without crushed ribs.”

“I don‟t know what to say. How many women have ever been

asked that question?”

“‟Yes‟ will do nicely.”

I just closed my eyes and nodded. It is so hard to describe how

I‟m feeling. It isn‟t happiness. It is, of course, what she has

been dreaming of for the last few years, but now the moment is

Friends or Lovers

here, I feel worried, ecstatic, concerned, shocked – every

emotion I have in me just crashes down and I feel giddy with the

intensity of it all.

“Of course. Of course,” I manage to get out before I

completely give the game away.

“Sis‟? Are you alright?”

“I feel a bit woozy…..”

And then it happened. I can‟t explain why. My legs just gave

way as if they simply could not hold me up any more, and I

tumbled onto the floor and nearly hit my head on the table. For

a few moments, I can‟t get up.

“Jeez sis‟,” says Carole almost falling to the floor with me,

“What‟s happened?”

“You think I know?” I ask.

“Here. Put your arm around me!”

She levers me towards the sofa and finally I think I can make it

to my feet.

“I never thought of you as heavy!” she joked as she hauls me

up. “If I knew my news would have this effect on you, I would

have got you to sit down first….!”

Instead of feeling wild with excitement and happiness, I feel

cold and sweaty, like the room is spinning. My little sister is

getting married. My little sister. My little sister is getting

married. I am pleased for her, but I realise that I did not expect

to feel like this. I did not expect her to marry before me. When

we were young, we would play „weddings‟ and I was always the

bride and she the bridesmaid. We would write all the words of

the ceremony out and act the whole thing for hours and hours.

We never took it in turns, she was always the bridesmaid and I

was the bride.

Rory Ridley-Duff

I looked up at her and felt ashamed. This should be one the

happiest moments in our life. My little sister is getting married,

and yet I feel totally hollow inside, totally useless, totally alone,

totally old. How can I feel like this? I bury my head in my

hands as more tears emerge. How can I possibly tell her?

Whatever she was expecting it was not this, but she took it in

her stride. It pains me to say it, but she is the mature one, not

me. I feel like taking a dagger and stabbing myself for not

thinking of her, for not thinking of how happy she must be

feeling, not being able to feel the excitement she feels. But the

truth is that my little sister‟s announcement makes me realise

that I have not grown up yet. She is not my little sister any

more. She is my big sister.

“Right!” I shout, “down the pub we go, get smashed, talk dirty

and then…….you tell me exactly what is expected of a „best

woman‟…..”

“That‟s simple!” she says without a moment‟s hesitation.

“You make us all laugh with a funny speech and then you get

drunk and try to shag the „best man‟!”

My moment of despair is over as quickly as it started. When I

hear her wicked suggestion the grin returns to my face. A few

seconds later, my lips part and my teeth are showing. I playfully

punch her on the arm.

“Okay! Okay!” I say, my confidence returning. As I go to get

my coat, I quickly turn and give her a sly look. “I think I can

manage that.”

“Okay sis‟ – lead the way!” and with that remark we went to

the pub, drank all evening, got thrown out when we started to

sing rude songs and staggered back to my place.

We flopped on my bed in fits of giggles.

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“Do…..do you…..” Laced with liquor, my words just will not

come out properly.

“I do!” she shouts hysterically.

“No. No. No!” I exclaim. “Stop a moment. Be serious!” I

demand as we lie there trying not to giggle.

“Do you want to hear something funny? Do you want to know

what I thought?”

“Thought about what?” Carole asks.

“Thought your „big news‟ was going to be….”

“Tell me!” she asks.

“I thought you were going to say that you were pregnant

again,” I laugh.

Carole dissolves into fits of giggles and starts kicking her feet

in the air.

“Do you want to hear something funny?” she retorts busting

her sides and unable to contain her hilarity.

“Yeah, come on! Spill it to sis‟” I tell her.

“I am!” she says. “It‟s due in November and her name is going

to be Penny Anne – after you and mum!”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 22

My plans for Elona were thwarted the next morning. Nathan

phoned in sick. I called Mike‟s department and his colleague

said that he had also not arrived at work yet. I switched on my

PC and opened the personnel database system and searched for

their details.

I called Nathan first and heard an answer phone message. I

left a message asking him to call me. Next I called Mike‟s

home number and a woman replied.

“Leamington 397333. Can I help you?”

“Hello. Is Mike there?” I asked.

“Can I ask who is calling?”

“My name is Penny – I‟m the Head of Personnel at IC,” I

answered.

“Hang on a minute, I‟ll see if he‟s still here. I think he‟s

already gone.”

There was a long pause and in the distance I thought I could

hear some voices. Eventually, the woman returned to the phone.

“Hello?” she said.

“I‟m still here,” I replied.

“He‟s already gone to work. Can I take a message?”

I thought for a moment because the issue was sensitive.

“It‟s nothing really. We had a disciplinary meeting this

morning but Mike‟s not turned up for work. We‟ll have to

rearrange. Can you get him to call me?”

“Sure,” she said, “if I see him before you do.”

The tone in her voice was strange, almost mocking, but I

thanked her and spent a few moments considering what to do

next. I had a full schedule until the end of the following week. I

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really wanted this resolved now and did not want it to drag on.

I called Phil into my office and asked him to check later that day

whether Nathan or Mike made it into work. We found a slot

free at 3pm the following Wednesday week – I would meet them

after I‟d had lunch with John. Phil agreed to inform all the

parties concerned.

I retrieved my e-mails and my mood improved when I received

a note.

Hi sexy,

Just to let you know that I’ll be arriving in Leamington about

10.30am. I’m stopping overnight with friends so we could either

have our meeting late morning or make an evening of it. Will it

damage your street cred if you are seen out on the town with an

oldie like me?

I was glad that his sense of humour had returned, and I felt my

emotions stir a bit when I read his greeting. I checked my diary

and found that I had to go to an evening event with Dave – a

launch event for a new product. I was to chaperone the young

entrepreneur who would be speaking while Dave was acting as

host. With a tinge of regret I declined John‟s offer of an

evening meal.

Hi John,

Still trying to corrupt my sweet innocence? Naughty, naughty. I’d

love to be seen with you, but it will have to be in the morning as we

arranged – although a lazy lunch is possible, if you prefer. I’ll save

the silky black dress for another occasion (!!) you’ll just have to

admire my power suit instead.

Penny

xx

I read over the message again. Was I being too flirty? Hell,

this was John and “flirt” was his middle name so I hit the [Send]

Rory Ridley-Duff

button without further ado. Fewer than five minutes had passed

before I received his response.

Penny,

Lazy lunch it is. We can compare power suits. If my meeting goes

well in the afternoon then I’ll be in Leamington quite a lot over the

next 2 months and you can impress me with your silky attire .

Meet you at 12.30pm at Bella Marie?

John

xx

I loved flirting with him. He still had a way of making me feel

special. I confirmed the time and place of our next lunch date

and allowed myself a few minutes to bask in the warmth of

feeling attractive and desirable. The issues with Nathan and

Mike slipped from my mind as I contemplated the prospect of

spending more time with John. I finished going through my e-

mails and the last one was from Dave about the evening event.

Subject: Launch Event

Pen,

Just finalising stuff for Wednesday. Are you able to meet me in the

morning so that I can try out my presentation on you? Also, just

been going through some Professional Development stuff. Both you

and I need to consider this before our appraisal in July. Do you

know of any CIPD events coming up that we could attend to catch

up on the latest issues?

Dave

I confirmed that I could meet him and asked Phil to call the

Chartered Institute of Personnel Development to find out any

events that would be running in Birmingham in the near future.

He found an afternoon event with an optional evening dinner. It

would run on 30th

June and covered the latest legislative changes

in our field. The evening event had two guest speakers

Friends or Lovers

scheduled – one giving a talk on entrepreneurial behaviour and

the other called “Intimacy at Work”. Given what was going on,

the second of these really caught my attention. For those

attending the evening event, there was an option to stay

overnight in the hotel. I thought Dave would enjoy the first talk

so I asked Phil to liase with him and book the overnight option

for both of us. Thankfully the day ended without further

incident.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 23

On the Monday morning, I got into work early and resumed

work on the contracts for Dave. Around 9am, the phone rang.

“Phil,” I shouted, “could you get that for me?”

He picked up the receiver and redirected the call to his own

phone. A few moments later I could hear him conversing in a

slightly agitated way.

“I‟m afraid she‟s……no she‟s…..she‟s busy at the moment.

Can you……?”

It sounded as though someone was not letting him get a word

in edgeways. I mouthed to him „who is it?‟ but he shrugged his

shoulders to indicate that he didn‟t know.

“Please hang on a moment, sir! I‟ll see if I can find her,” and

with these words he pulled the handset from his ear and gave it a

harsh look.

“Who is it?” I asked out loud.

“It‟s a man for you. Called John. He insists he must talk to

you.”

I smiled because it was unusual for him to call me. He may be

bold by e-mail but he rarely initiated phone conversations.

“It‟s okay, Phil,” I say. “He‟s a friend.”

“Well he doesn‟t sound very friendly to me,” Phil said as he

diverted the call to my phone.

I picked up the receiver.

“Hi, John. Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Wednesday. Can you meet any earlier?” he asked without

seeming to pause for breath.

“And a „good morning‟ to you too, John!” I pointed out.

Friends or Lovers

“Sorry Penny! „Good morning‟ to you. Can you meet any

earlier on Wednesday?” he repeated.

“Well, a bit – I could bring it forward to 11.30 if that helps.”

“Yes. That‟s good. Okay. I‟ll see you at 11.30.”

“Hang on, hang on!” I say, trying to slow him down. “What is

this all about?”

“Can‟t say, Penny, not on the phone. I‟ll tell you Wednesday.

We need to talk.”

“That sounds fairly ominous! What do „we need to talk‟

about?” I said in an attempt to mock him slightly and lighten the

mood.

“Can‟t say, Penny, not on the phone,” he repeated.

“Why not? The heavens haven‟t fallen down over the

weekend have they? My sister‟s wedding hasn‟t suddenly been

cancelled, has it?”

He completely ignored this piece of news and carried on.

“It‟s better to talk in person.”

“John? Has something happened to you?”

I could feel concern creeping into my being. It was unlike

John to sound so agitated.

“No! Not me.”

“Your wife?”

“Penny. I don‟t want to talk on the phone. I‟ll meet you at

11.30 – we can talk over a coffee before lunch. Try not to

worry.”

With that last comment, he rang off. Whenever anybody says

“try not to worry” it is sure to make you worry even more. He

did not answer my question about his wife and I wondered

whether something might have happened between them. But

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then I remembered that he said it was nothing to do with him.

What then?

“Did he say anything to you?” I asked Phil.

“About what?”

“Did he say what he wanted to talk about?”

“No. He was just very insistent that he talk to you

immediately. Very pushy guy, if you ask me.”

I thought for a moment.

“Yeah. He‟s a pushy guy alright.” In my head I added a few

extra words that Phil did not hear. “That‟s what I love about

him.”

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 24

I took the contracts around to Dave‟s office and he ran through

his presentation. I took notes and stopped him after each section

to give him feedback. He ran through the section again until I

gave him a thumbs up and we continued this process until late

morning. We don‟t do many major product launches so Dave

was putting in extra effort. His belief in this entrepreneur and

his innovations was high so he was making a career gamble by

investing in a lavish public relations event. After working

through the contracts, we agreed a few minor changes for his

afternoon meeting.

“Do you have to rush off?” he asked.

“No. Something on your mind?” I enquired.

Dave is rarely hesitant, and for him to pause for any length of

time before giving an answer was quite strange.

“Yeeaah!” he finally said slowly.

“Well, come on then. Tell aunty Penny….” I was beginning

to get used to the idea that I was going to be an aunty twice

over.

“Do you remember I said my wife was ill?

I vaguely recollected him saying something, but I responded

with more confidence than I felt.

“Of course! Is she not better?”

Dave did not show any emotion. It was almost like he was a

blank, looking straight into my eyes in a way that I‟d never seen

before. He licked his lips and I could tell that he was slightly

nervous so I walked up to him and touched his arm.

“Come on, Dave. If there‟s something, you can tell me!”

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He looked into my eyes again. There was fear in them. I had

never seen him like this before. He licked his lips again.

Finally, he spoke.

“She‟s dying!”

This news had a deep and lasting impact on me. I held his left

arm in my right hand and then placed my left hand on his

shoulder. He didn‟t say anything either, just tilted his head until

it rested on my hand and closed his eyes. He was in pain and I

let go of his arms and put my hand on his cheek and stroked it.

“Have you told anyone?”

“No. You‟re the first person I‟ve told.”

I‟d worked with Dave for 10 months and this was by far the

most human moment that we had shared.

“Family? Have you told them?”

“I‟ll do that later today. She‟s not been well for a while, and

she‟s been back and forth to the doctor. I took her into hospital

this weekend because her headaches were so painful that she

could not sleep. They‟ve done a scan and found a tumour. It‟s

advanced. They don‟t think she‟ll survive more than a few

months.

“Oh Dave! I‟m so sorry. Come here.”

I put his head on my shoulder and my arms around him. Dave

had a lot of energy but deep down he was a gentle soul. As I

held him I could feel his heart breaking and the gentle

movement of someone crying. We stood there for many

minutes before he slowly pulled away and without looking at me

said “thank you”. He turned slowly and left the room.

Sometimes you work with a person for a while and simply do

not realise the bonds that are forming. I was sad for the rest of

the day, and in the evening when I was on my own I felt acutely

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distressed. Deep down a pain formed inside me that actually

hurt. My friend Dave should not have to bear this so young. It

was unnatural, cruel and so unfair. He was a bit older than me,

but not by much. I found myself struggling to get to sleep as the

silent anger I felt kept me awake. There was no God if this

could happen. I had not realised I cared about him and it came

as a surprise. As I lay there - thinking of him sitting with his

wife at the hospital - I decided he needed a friend. He needed

someone to care about him. It was my time, my moment to face

someone else‟s pain and not shrink from the thankless task of

helping him through it.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 25

When Wednesday came, I had no idea what was in store for me.

I had taken extra care getting dressed because I wanted to look

good for my lunch date with John. In the afternoon, I was due

to meet Mike and Nathan for a showdown. In the evening was

Dave‟s product launch.

I strode into work feeling smart and confident. When Phil saw

me, he raised his eyebrows.

“Doing something special today?” he asked.

“Got the launch event tonight and have no time to go home,” I

lied. But it was a good lie, I thought.

“That young entrepreneur will think he‟s died and gone to

heaven!”

For Phil to pay me a compliment was so unexpected that I

actually stopped in my tracks. I looked at him with new eyes.

“That‟s very sweet of you,” I said, smiling.

He looked a little embarrassed, as if he had said more than he

meant to, but with a small shuffle of his feet and with his eyes

slightly lowered, a few words came out.

“You‟re welcome,” he said sheepishly.

I was surprised at how flattered I felt. He was a good-looking

lad, too young for me, but for a moment I looked at him in a

lustful way.

I got myself a cup of coffee and went through my e-mails.

Hi Penny,

Is there any background information you can bring on that personnel

problem you have got? May help us find out what is going on.

See you soon, John

Friends or Lovers

Even if I had wanted to, I couldn‟t take anything with me. The

information was confidential. If I hired him, it would be

different, but I responded by saying that the Data Protection Act

prevented me sharing confidential records. We would have to

discuss the issues as a series of hypothetical situations.

Next, there was an e-mail from Dave.

Subject: CIPD

Pen,

Thanks for booking the CIPD thing. I just don’t feel like a big social

evening afterwards. After the speeches, would you like a drink?

Not the most difficult executive decision I have ever had to

make. A swift response winged its way back through the IT

network.

Dave,

That would be lovely. I look forward to it.

The other e-mails were either trivial or junk. By the time I‟d

waded through them, the time for Dave‟s presentation

approached. I took Phil with me, a reward for his earlier

flattery, and we both settled into the company‟s small lecture

theatre. It was quite a showpiece, complete with visuals and

sound. As he stood there in a new suit and tie, hair cut and

groomed, his voice confidently outlined the magnificent benefits

of tomorrow‟s personal health gadgetry. I thought he cut a fine

figure. He was impressive and looked cute.

“You‟ll go down a treat,” I reassured him. “The preparation

was worth it.”

“Are you sure? Are you really sure?” he hurriedly asked.

“You don‟t think that final video is slightly overlong or

overdone?”

I put my hand on his arm and reassured him.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Slicker than a New Labour political broadcast, but much less

spin.”

He just beamed. As he was a dedicated New Labour

supporter, he took this as a big compliment, even though I didn‟t

intend it that way. The materials were fine, I thought, but it was

Dave who gave them charm and wit.

“Thanks, Pen,” he said. “See you tonight when the madness

has died down.”

This was going to be a very long day.

* * *

John was slightly late. We arrived at Bella Marie around 11.50

and settled down for lunch. He was pleased to see me but

carried a grave look that I‟d not seen before. He was dressed in

a dark deep blue suit. It was the first time I‟d seen him wear a

tie. He was well groomed and I quickly realised that I preferred

him in casual attire. John „the businessman‟ just didn‟t seem

quite right.

His behaviour was different as well and I initially attributed

this to his meeting in the afternoon. He would be nervous, I felt.

When we chatted on the phone yesterday, he said that this was

one of the best contracts he had been offered and it would bring

him about £30k for little more than a month‟s work. He

intended to use the money to support his writing for several

months.

We settled down at the table, ordered drinks and looked at the

menu. The banter I expected didn‟t materialise so I probed him

to see if anything was up.

“Nervous about this afternoon?” I asked.

Friends or Lovers

“A bit. Not too bad. I know the person contracting the work.

We‟ve worked together several times so I think today‟s a

formality. There are others to convince, however, so I thought

I‟d dress the part.”

If it was not his interview then why was his behaviour so

different? I was puzzled and tried a bit of flattery.

“You look the part. Very smart – you‟ll knock them dead.”

I looked at him directly as I said this, but his gaze remained

firmly on the menu. He momentarily looked up and tried to

smile, but he averted his eyes quickly. I started to feel that

something had changed between us but was at a loss to

understand why.

“John. You said we had to talk. No point beating about the

bush. What‟s on your mind?”

He looked up, slightly relieved. As he settled back in his chair,

his gaze started to focus on me properly.

“Tell me about Mike….” he requested.

“Our hypothetical Mike!” I answered. John nodded and set

himself in a listening pose.

“He‟s one of our sales staff, 50-ish, married, personable and

popular. I can see that he‟s good looking, and women would

fall for him, but I‟m not sure why. Sometimes he gives me the

creeps.”

John intervened at that point.

“Not sure why? Can you expand on that?”

“Well, he‟s good at his job. My boss Dave is suspicious of

him. I find him a bit „old school‟, you know, patronizing. I feel

he looks down on me sometimes. We had quite a row last week.

He called me a „stupid woman‟. I called him a sexist pig!”

Rory Ridley-Duff

John nodded, and his demeanour was attentive and serious,

encouraging me to continue.

“Someone complained that he was hassling a colleague for a

drink. It looked open and shut initially. I moved him to a new

position. He took some of his staff with him, women mostly,

and I thought that‟d be the end of it.”

“So what‟s changed?” John asked.

“Well, my boss wanted me to find out more. I asked my

assistant to keep his ear to the ground. He found that men in the

department had been flirting with her. There was one lad in

particular that seemed to take a fancy. That‟s where the stories

conflict. The young woman won‟t say what happened. The

young lad won‟t co-operate, either. Mike, their former boss,

says the young woman confided in him but he won‟t talk unless

she consents. Now he‟s implied she might have been pursuing

the young man, not the other way around. But I know her. She

lives at home. She‟s engaged to be married. There‟s a meeting

this afternoon. I intend to crack some heads.”

John nodded, looking very thoughtful.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“My instinct tells me that the lads went too far, and one in

particular got quite keen. He made a pass and she rejected him.

She was sufficiently upset to confide in her boss. He gave her

support, they got close, he invited her for a drink and perhaps

she misunderstood – or maybe he was making his own play -

she got upset again and now she won‟t talk. The boss is pissed

off with everyone because he got landed with the blame for a

situation not originally of his own making. I don‟t buy his story,

however, because he‟s got a reputation as a womaniser. He has

a history.”

Friends or Lovers

John kept nodding. I had never seen him this intense and

studious before.

“Shall I try another interpretation for you?” he asked.

I was slightly taken aback. I was not looking for another

interpretation.

“Err. Okay.” I said hesitantly. John started to talk.

“The young woman – tell you what, let‟s call her Elena – she‟s

quiet, fairly pretty, and has a job as administrator to a

department that has quite a few young men. In her previous job

she worked with women so this is a change for her. She starts to

receive more sexual attention. She‟s inexperienced with men, a

bit embarrassed, but likes one of them. Let‟s call him Nath,

shall we?”

“Hold on!” I said. “Where are you getting these names from?”

“This is a hypothetical example, Penny, right?”

This was too coincidental, but I nodded to indicate he should

carry on.

“Okay. Nath thinks she‟s a bit of alright and joins in the

flirting at first. But then he realises that her boyfriend is an old

school friend. His mate is crazy about Elena, wants to marry

her, but he sees her flirting with a whole group of lads. So he

backs off. Elena is not put off and actually starts to single out

Nath himself. She‟s confused. He backs off some more. She

confides in her boss. We‟ll call her boss Mick, shall we?”

“You know these people. Explain!” I commanded.

“Penny, if I tell you the source of my information then I‟ll be

involved and could be dragged into the process. If things go

badly, I could be called as a witness to a tribunal. Regardless, I

want to help. Let me pretend this is a hypothetical case. You

use the information as you see fit.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

I was angry. He seemed to have more information than I did.

“D‟you want me to continue?” he asked.

I struggled to keep my emotions in check. When I felt in

control again, I nodded.

“Her boss has a reputation for being sympathetic to his staff.

He‟s been known to intervene personally sometimes and help

people out when their personal lives are troubled. Mick listens

to Elena and realises she‟s in a difficult situation. Nath then

tells his old school friend that Elena came onto him and was

flirting with all her work colleagues. Her boyfriend reacts

badly. He storms around and tells her the wedding is off. Her

parents are furious. Every day she goes home they argue with

her and tell her she‟s ruined everything. She becomes desperate

to leave home.”

It was my turn to start nodding. I did not know where he was

getting this information but suddenly things started to make

more sense. He continued the story.

“Mick‟s known for his kindness. Once he helped a work

colleague suffering abuse. He‟d risked his own marriage to get

her out. He put her up at his home until she found a new home.”

As these words came out, I could feel the shock rise through

me as I realised where all this was coming from. John knew

Mike. I‟d never told John exactly where I worked. He never

asked. It never seemed relevant. Pin-pricks shuddered all the

way through me. For a moment, I reeled, completely

bewildered. Luckily, the waitress brought the drinks and asked

for our order. Having recovered my composure, I asked John

questions.

“What happened to….Mick?” I asked.

Friends or Lovers

“The situation got so bad that Mick‟s wife gave him an

ultimatum. Either the work colleague leaves or the marriage is

over. Mick gave in, on the condition that he be allowed to help

her find a place to live. He hoped that would be the end, but

later his wife learned that he‟d given money to buy furniture.

Mick‟s wife felt betrayed. She kicked him out. With nowhere

else to go…..Mick….moved into a flat with his work colleague.

They became extremely close but were never lovers. After a

few months of Mick calling his wife every day, she finally

relented and let him go back home. There was a condition,

however, that he never bring another woman into their home.

Mick agreed.”

I felt I knew where the story was heading and my sense of

dread started to increase. My head dropped and my eyes fixed

on the table as John continued talking.

“Elena wanted Mick to let her have his spare room. Mick was

sympathetic, said that he would help her, but could not let her

move into his house or give her any money. Elena was angry

because she‟d heard how Mick had helped someone else. Elena

told him private details about her life and now felt abandoned.

In a rage, she goes around to Nath‟s house and tells him what

he‟s done. Nath tells her to „piss off‟. She goes into work the

next day and is angry, not with Nath, but with Mick and shouts

at him for not helping her. She tries again to persuade Mick to

take her in, but he refuses. She won‟t calm down so Mick tries

to persuade her to leave the building and continue the

conversation at a local pub for a drink. She resists so he takes

hold of her by the arm and makes her leave. Someone walking

past stops to watch and immediately reports the scene to their

manager.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

My head just hung there as I looked down at the table. I did

not speak for several minutes.

“What a total fucking mess!”

John was silent so I looked up at him feeling completely at a

loss.

“It gets worse, Penny.”

“Worse? How could it get worse?”

“You may want a stiff drink. Are you ready?”

“I need a stiff drink now!” I said trying to lighten the mood but

John‟s face was implacable. There was more to come and I had

to hear it.

“There is another hypothetical character, let‟s call her Pen.”

At the mention of this name, another shock wave went through

me and I became rigid with fear.

“Mick, because of the past, did not tell his wife why he had

recently changed job. He was concerned that his wife would

pre-judge the situation and end the marriage. So, he told a

half-truth, that the new job was a promotion rather than a

convenient solution to an accusation of sexual harassment.

However, one day, Pen calls his house announcing herself as the

Head of Human Resources and that Mick should be in a

disciplinary meeting. His wife‟s curiosity is fired and she

relentlessly asks questions until Mick tells her the whole story.”

“Well, in some ways I‟m relieved,” I said.

“She threw him out again,” said John.

“She did what?” I said. “Why the hell did she do that?”

“At the moment he‟s staying at a hotel with a friend.”

No prizes for guessing who the „friend‟ is, I thought.

“He‟s been to a solicitor. She feels the problem lies with the

way Pen handled the original complaint, a clear case of sex

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discrimination and failure to observe natural justice principles

now enshrined in law. There is also the issue of the call to his

home. The solicitor takes the view that Pen has not fulfilled her

duty of care to all the parties concerned.”

My body froze a second time, and my eyes dropped as I let

John finish.

“Today he‟s going to bring his solicitor.”

“He can‟t do that!” I interject.

“He and his solicitor have checked the employment contract.

It says he can bring a friend if there is a disciplinary hearing.

There‟s nothing to say whether the friend must be a work

colleague or not. The solicitor is coming as a friend. At least,

that is the story he will stick to if challenged.”

“Is that true?” I ask.

“It is. She‟s been a friend since his university days.”

I was silent.

“Fucking mess was about right, I think, Penny!” said John.

I did not know how to feel. Could I really have got everything

so wrong?

“Well, that‟s one way of looking at things,” I commented

sardonically.

“Penny!” John exclaimed.

Suddenly, I lost my appetite. My head was spinning while I

tried to work out what to do.

“Why are you telling me?” I asked in a slightly accusing way.

“Because I couldn‟t let you go into your meeting later today

completely unprepared.”

I felt attacked from all sides and my defences started to bristle.

“How noble of you!” I retorted.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“M….Mick….has been a life-long friend of mine. He led my

scouts group when I was a kid. I‟ve not known a kinder more

honest man in my entire life. He doesn‟t know that I know you.

If he did, or knew I‟m telling you this, he might terminate our

friendship.”

“So it‟s all lads altogether is it?”

I didn‟t know where these words were coming from, but part

of me sensed that I had to get out of the restaurant and find

Dave. I needed to talk to the legal department of the company

before the meeting. Panic overwhelmed me. This could be the

end of my career. What was I to do?

“Where did that come from?” he demanded.

“Just let me think a moment, this is all too much,” I snapped.

“Penny, I care about you. This is serious.”

“Yes. This is serious. It‟s going to come down on my fucking

head not yours.”

I was getting more and more defensive and angry.

“Don‟t be like that. I‟m trying to help. I don‟t want to lose

your friendship, but this could come between us if Mike asks me

to testify.”

“Why on earth would he do that? This is nothing to do with

you.”

“Penny, this is my field. I act as an expert witness at

tribunals.”

“How? Why? You know nothing about this case, really, you

are just telling one side of the story.”

“I try not to take sides, just give a professional opinion.”

“You what? You‟re saying you might testify against me?”

“Penny! He‟s been a friend all my life. He‟s been like a father

to me. He‟ll ask for my help and I will give it to him.”

Friends or Lovers

“You are going to testify against me, aren‟t you?”

“Not if we can find another way.”

“Another way? Is there another way? You said he‟ll have a

solicitor with him this afternoon…..”

“There is a way out. You‟ll have to grab it with both hands

this afternoon.”

“Well, I‟m fresh out of ideas. Amuse me.”

I wished that I could stop myself being sarcastic and

argumentative but I was shaking from the top of my head to the

tips of my toes. I felt like I was being driven by something

outside myself. At the moment I was not in control, just

existing from second to second, hoping somehow I would

disappear down a hole in the ground and this would all go away.

“You must listen this afternoon. Don‟t say anything, just

listen. Listen to the story the way it is told by the other parties.

Make notes, lots of notes. Do whatever you have to do to get

the company to offer mediation to all the parties involved. Help

him with his domestic situation until the mediation is complete.

Don‟t admit liability, but acknowledge the points of view of the

other parties.”

“I don‟t know if I can do that,” I said weakly.

“If you don‟t, this is going to end up in a court of law.”

“I‟ll have to involve the company lawyers…..”

“No! You mustn‟t do that,” he shouted. “The moment you

talk to them, they‟ll call your insurers and the insurers will

instruct you to have no further contact. If you contact Mike

after talking to your insurers, the insurers will not cover your

employer for any losses. You – and the company – will be

completely exposed. You have to mediate. Once you talk to

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your legal team it will be out of your hands and will go to

court.”

“I can‟t handle this, John. This is too big for me. Anyway,

why should I take your advice? I hardly know you.”

He looked hurt at my words but composed himself.

“Penny,” he said firmly. “Once a formal process starts it‟s

almost impossible to stop.”

I wanted to talk to Dave. For all I knew, John was doing this

to save Mike, to protect him. My responsibility was to the

company. Not John. Not Mike. I had to protect the company‟s

interests. John was not put off and continued his attempts to

persuade me.

“Penny, please listen. Please. You are personally at risk from

prosecution.”

“I bloody know that. Do you think you get to my position and

not know stuff like that?”

I resented him treating me like an idiot.

“And if I don’t tell the legal team, then I could lose my job as

well. Do you appreciate that, John?”

My fiery response took him back a bit and he regrouped.

“There are risks. But do you think they‟ll protect you? They

might get you through the court case, but what then? What of

your future career?”

“Oh God! I don‟t know!”

Privately, I did. There was little chance I would survive after

such a misjudgement.

“What if you can mediate?” he insisted. “What if you can get

Mike and his wife back together?”

The pretence that we were talking about hypothetical

characters had completely vanished. This was as real as it gets.

Friends or Lovers

“I can‟t authorise that on my own. At the very least, I‟d need

Dave‟s support.”

“Would he help?”

“I couldn‟t do this without him. We‟re close. I can‟t keep this

from him.”

“Would he help?”

“I see him later tonight. I can run it past him. I don‟t think

he‟ll like this.”

The waitress brought our food and asked if we‟d like any more

drinks. I looked at the meal in front of me. In any other

circumstances it would have looked beautiful and tasted

delicious, but I picked at it intermittently. I felt sick.

“I‟m sorry for getting angry,” I said.

“It‟s okay. How could you know?”

Indeed, how could I know? There was so much that I‟d not

been told. John continued.

“We can only see what we look for. It‟s a kind of blindness,”

he said.

It sounded like he was criticising my judgement.

“What do you mean?” I asked sharply.

“What?” he reacted, sensing immediately he had irked me. “I

mean that you were looking at the situation the way the vast

majority of people look at such situations. We assume men

pursue women, and that women spend most of their time

resisting men.”

“Don‟t stereotype me. I wasn‟t blind to this!” I said with some

irritation.

“No more than anyone else,” he said in a slightly frosty way.

“And you‟re the big shot who thinks he knows?” I said

sarcastically.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I‟m sorry. I didn‟t mean to sound critical. It‟s a common

problem. Unless you understand that both men and women are

initiating and responding in different ways it is easy to presume

the man is doing all the initiating and is always to blame.”

“Stop talking like a fucking academic…”

I wished I could stop myself behaving in such an angry way,

but it just kept pouring out of me.

“Sorry. I‟m sure you are very knowledgeable.”

I simmered for a few minutes and ate my food. John ventured

a question.

“Who is protecting the men, Penny?”

“What?” I responded. I remembered Mike saying something

similar during our earlier argument.

“Women aren‟t weak,” he said. “You know that.”

I looked at him coolly.

“Equality means protecting both sexes,” he said looking me

firmly in the eye.

I nodded.

“As one of my friends told me a few years ago „if you think

women are weak, try divorcing one!‟”

“John. You are so fucking pompous!”

He smiled.

“You are not the first person to say that,” he laughed.

“Good!” I added.

“But this is my field!” he responded.

“Bugger off!” was all I could say.

He laughed again and I found that I could not sustain my anger

with him. I started to realise that I was being deeply unfair to

him. As the remorse grew, I looked at him.

“Sorry,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

Friends or Lovers

Right now I had a plateful of food and an attractive man sitting

opposite. I was not going to waste either a moment longer.

“Shall we enjoy the rest of our meal?” I continued, offering a

conciliatory smile.

When he saw this, his own smile broadened and I realised how

tense he had been throughout. As his body relaxed, I considered

what an ordeal this must have been for him. Hearing this story

from Mike, and then deciding to tell me over lunch, must have

been difficult for him. It would have been much easier for

ignore it, or cry off the lunch date and avoid me.

We chatted away, about nothing in particular, for the next

hour. As we departed, he reiterated that the situation could go

pear shaped if the legal teams got involved. I acknowledged

what he was saying but said that I still didn‟t see how I could

avoid discussing this internally. I had to protect myself, not just

the other parties. As I left the restaurant, it was this last point

that occupied my mind. How was I going to protect myself

while finding a way to resolve the situation?

We said our goodbyes outside the restaurant and agreed to call

each other the following evening. I saw real concern in his eyes,

and for the first time I saw him more as a friend than a potential

lover. Parting turned out to be quite difficult. We stood there

chatting for a bit then going silent then chatting some more.

Neither of us wanted to walk away. Eventually, he said “come

here” and guided by an external force I stepped forward and fell

into his arms. He hugged me for a whole minute and I just

clung on for as long as I could. Sometimes words are so

inadequate and unnecessary. Touching says everything that

needs to be said. I guess John must have felt the same way.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 26

By the time I returned to work all my doubts and dilemmas had

returned. I felt so torn about what to do that I went to the staff

canteen for another coffee. Others could see I was troubled and

avoided me. I thought about visiting the legal department to

spill all this out, but John‟s caution made me pause – at least for

now. Another part of me wanted to find Dave and have a heart

to heart but he was preoccupied with the product launch.

Another thing that consumed me was how I felt about myself.

I was ashamed. If I had got things completely wrong then I was

responsible for a great deal of misery. Elona‟s distress, and that

of Nathan, Mike and his wife, even John – these all beat a path

to my door. And yet, how could I have known? Was I being

too hard on myself? Nobody would explain. Nobody would

talk. How could I have known? So, I sat there both angry at

myself and at others. In the end, I decided to follow some of

John‟s advice. I hatched a plan.

* * *

“Hi Phil,” I said as I returned to my office. “I need to discuss

things with you before we go into the meeting.”

He looked as apprehensive as I felt, and my invitation to

discuss things did nothing to reduce his unease.

“Come into my office for a chat.”

At this suggestion, his apprehension seemed to progress to

outright fear but he obediently followed me.

“Can you close the door?” I asked, and he duly obliged.

Friends or Lovers

I had gathered my thoughts and knew how I wanted to play

this. Phil was my first port of call for a good reason. I took a

deep breath and made a start.

“I‟ve been thinking a lot about Mike‟s outburst.”

I paused for a moment to see if Phil would say anything, but

his eyes remained fixed and expressionless.

“What if he‟s right?”

At this suggestion, Phil‟s lips parted and his rigid body began

to move and come alive. His hands, both of which had been in

his lap, suddenly surfaced and started to gesture strongly.

Everything about his body screamed “Thank God!” His words,

however, were cautious.

“That thought had occurred to me too. It makes more sense.”

The idea that Phil has worked out the situation without help

came as both a relief and a surprise. I wondered whether I

should have solicited his opinion more quickly.

“If he is right, Phil…..,” I let the words linger for a moment,

“……how are we going to approach this meeting?”

As I asked this question, Phil‟s moment of relief ended and his

face became thoughtful again. Clearly he had not expected this,

or considered this question, so I gave him a few moments by

leaving the room to make coffee. When I returned, he was more

relaxed.

“Any ideas?” I asked as I walked in the door.

“I think we need to admit that maybe we got it wrong. Then

listen and listen and listen…..”

He was moving in the right direction, but a little more caution

was called for.

“I agree with you on the „listen and listen and listen‟,” I

answered.

Rory Ridley-Duff

After waiting for a moment to see whether he might say

anything else, I offered my opinion.

“Of course, if we admit that we „got it wrong‟ both you and I

could be for the high jump if this ever goes to court……”

I had his attention now and a look of horror spread across his

face. His eyes left mine and looked down at the table for a few

seconds. When he looked up again, there was a definite sense of

conviction as he spoke.

“Then I guess admitting we got it wrong is out of the

question,” he said, with just a hint of a smile.

I smiled back at him – a big smile showing my teeth. I looked

him straight in the eye as I answered him.

“We‟ll make a manager out of you yet!”

Without letting my eyes wander even for an instant I took the

lead.

“Okay, Phil. We‟ll do as you suggest. We‟ll say that we want

to look at the whole thing again, listen to what they have to say.

I want you to bring a notebook and take lots of notes. We‟ll

keep our mouths shut, at least until I‟ve talked to Dave and

Legal, and just keep insisting that we‟ll do everything we can to

mediate a solution. This afternoon is about buying time.

Okay?”

I could see from Phil‟s reaction that his ego felt well and truly

massaged. He broke into a smile and nodded. I looked away

from him to give the impression the meeting was over. When

Phil got up and made to leave the room, I completed the act of

seduction.

“Phil?” I asked, and then waited until his eyes were again

looking into mine, “You‟re a good lad. I appreciate you.”

Friends or Lovers

I did not look away and his eyes remained on mine until he

could hold the gaze no longer. I caught a trace of redness in his

cheeks. He turned to go, started to walk, but when he reached

the door he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at me again. I

smiled back. I have to admit that sometimes it is great fun being

a woman.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 27

I feigned surprise when I met Mike‟s solicitor and was as

pleasant as possible. If his solicitor had been a man, I might

have peppered my pleasantness with a brusque manner. If we

were to meet again in a court room or industrial tribunal, a

married woman giving a single woman a hard time in the

witness box would not be pleasant. I have to say that Mike was

proving a lot smarter than I‟d expected. To my surprise, I found

myself developing a grudging respect for him. If we made it

through this conflict, I promised myself that I would get to know

him better.

I opened the meeting and stressed that we would be as co-

operative as possible. No conclusions had been reached. Mike

initially looked as if he was ready for a battle, but my opening

gamble paid off and took the wind out of his sails. I introduced

Phil as my assistant and said that he had expressed a view that

we should listen to Mike and Nathan. At the mention of his

name, Phil looked up and smiled, still beaming from our earlier

encounter.

First Nathan, then Mike, gave their accounts while I nodded,

prompted, enquired and encouraged. Phil made copious notes as

the story unfolded more or less exactly as John said it would. At

certain points in the narrative, I expressed surprise and shock at

what I was hearing. Phil followed my lead and we successfully

communicated the seriousness of what had taken place.

Every few minutes I glanced at Mike‟s solicitor friend to see

how this was playing with her. At the start of the meeting, she

had looked calm and confident. With each reaction, I noticed

that her look changed from one of confidence to one of

Friends or Lovers

puzzlement. Sometimes she would look at Mike and tilt her

head to one side. She was trying to work out how the meeting

could be going so well for her client. At the end, after taking

both Mike‟s and Nathan‟s statements, I offered to get Phil to

type them up and send Mike‟s to her for checking. At this

suggestion, she started to engage me.

“That‟s good of you, Penny,” she said. I didn‟t like her using

my first name but I let it pass.

“My pleasure,” I answered.

“Mike‟s got issues over lost pay, and a problem with his

housing situation……”

“We can help with that,” I answered. My comment stopped

her in her tracks. She was not expecting this. With surprise on

her face she uttered a question.

“How?”

I was growing in confidence and put the final piece of my plan

into place.

“There are two flats rented by the company to accommodate

sales managers who commute here from time to time. One of

them is free at the moment and I can arrange for Mike to use it

until he can make alternative arrangements.”

“Who will pay?” she asked.

“The company will pay,” I answered.

“And what about the loss of pay since changing his job?”

“On pay, I‟ll have to clear any changes with my director,

David Stockton. I meet him later tonight.”

I paused for a second before I asked the next question to ensure

it had maximum impact.

“What would be helpful is if you could work out with Mike the

amount of wages he has lost. I cannot guarantee that we will

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meet it in full, but I‟m sure it will be sufficient for him to treat

you to dinner. Could you do that?”

As I asked this question, I looked at them both. They looked at

each other for a moment and I noticed that she nodded her head

at him.

“Yes. We‟ll do that now. Mike can confirm it in writing.”

Mike looked at me, then at her, then at me again. I detected a

smile on his face. After a few moments, he gave a short

chuckle.

“Women! I have no idea why you go around letting men think

they are in charge.”

He chuckled again as he looked at Phil, then me again.

“I‟ll check with Dave tonight,” I said, “just to see whether I

need to involve Legal. If we don‟t, then you‟ll have my

response tomorrow. I‟ll deliver it by hand, if necessary.”

Mike smiled at me – the first time I had seen him do so – and I

have to admit that his face was handsome. In all our previous

meetings, he‟d looked worried and pensive, but now I saw him

in a moment of happiness, I was taken aback at just how

attractive he looked.

“Penny?” he asked.

“Yes?” I answered.

“I underestimated you. Thank you.”

He looked me strongly in the eyes.

“I underestimated you as well. Thank you.”

At the start of the day, I would have been happy to see

someone kick him hard in the balls, but as it turned out a mutual

respect was born. I‟d hoped to stall things long enough to

consult with Dave but we‟d gone almost as far as resolving the

Friends or Lovers

whole thing. As Mike turned to leave the room, he fixed me one

last time with his handsome face.

“I can now see why Dave hired you.”

I tried to return his look but found that I could not as I felt a

rush of adrenalin rip through me. He beat me at my own game.

The moment of exhilaration passed and I finally understood why

he had such a good reputation as a salesman. Not only did he

have integrity and courage but, when he felt at ease, he was also

extraordinarily sexy.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 28

I remained in the room with Phil while Mike and his solicitor

exchanged words. I noticed them hug warmly as she departed.

Clearly they were more than acquaintances; the way they

looked, laughed, touched and moved indicated a much closer

relationship. Mike, now I was experiencing him up close, was a

friendlier person than I had thought. It made me wonder why

Dave harboured hostility towards him.

Phil, with a puppyish expression, fussed about me.

“That was fantastic, Penny! Absolutely brilliant.”

Such praise I can live with, but I actually felt exhausted. It‟s

hard to force niceness and that was exactly what I had been

doing for most of the last two hours. It was time to cool Phil‟s

ardour now the job was done.

“That is sweet of you,” I said, with a look that communicated

not just my appreciation, but also the gap in status between us.

His face, while still smiling, developed a small frown and his

body language became submissive.

“Thank you,” was all he could say.

“Can you tidy up the loose ends here? I need to get ready for

this evening.”

Phil nodded and still smiling, offered a further comment.

“I learnt a lot today,” he said.

A curious look came over his face.

“What made you change your mind about Mike?” he asked.

This comment caught me short for a moment.

“Let‟s just call it a woman‟s intuition, shall we?” I responded.

“Nothing more?” he asked again inquisitively.

Friends or Lovers

Clearly he was not convinced. I flicked my head back, and let

my locks fall about my face alluringly.

“Don‟t you believe in women‟s intuition, Phil?”

His smile returned as well as his confidence. If he had felt

dominated a few moments ago, all trace had left him. He started

to walk out of the room and his final remark not only surprised

me, but also deflated my ego a bit.

“I certainly believe in a woman‟s cunning!” he remarked.

As I stood there, I thought back over the whole day. A number

of shocks, surprises, twists and turns had left their mark. I

thought of the way John had helped, Mike‟s willingness to

accept a settlement when he could have thrown the book at me,

and Phil‟s shrewdness at seeing through me. I had one of those

“ah ha!” moments in life. Suddenly things came together.

Perhaps men were not jerks after all.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 29

What a day it had been and there was still quite a way to go. I

visited the women‟s toilets. As I delicately added a small

amount of rouge to my cheeks, Jo – the marketing manager –

came in looking very pleased with herself.

“You look happy,” I remarked.

“Yes, good meeting. We signed a contract this afternoon. It

will give a boost to our training programme, and get the new

team ready.”

“Sounds good,” I chirped. “I‟m off tonight to see Dave strut

his stuff at the launch. Are you coming?”

“Yes, of course, I‟ll be there. Always enjoy watching Dave

strut his stuff!” she remarked.

Her comment surprised me, but as I‟d had a totally stressful

day, I let my hair down a bit as well.

“Hmm! He can look quite dashing at times, can‟t he?”

“Yeah! I‟ll say. Shame he‟s taken. All the good ones are.”

“You looking?” I asked, thinking back to the book John had

recommended to me.

“Aren‟t you?” she answered.

I thought for a moment. Was I? I didn‟t really know.

Certainly, I enjoyed fantasising about people – sometimes

people I knew – but did that mean I was looking? Jo smiled at

me as she washed her face and removed some of her make-up.

She was not a stunner but even without make-up her skin was

quite good. She had cut her hair quite short – a mistake I

thought – because without a good size bust it gave her a rather

boyish look. Long hair would have made her look womanly. Jo

looked professional, not attractive.

Friends or Lovers

As these thoughts flashed through my mind, I also considered

her question. Over the last couple of months I felt a change in

myself. With Carole announcing her marriage, having a second

child, with meeting John and feeling more comfortable with

men as friends, perhaps I was ready to look. I considered Mike,

and how hard he had tried to make things work with his wife.

Clearly, there were men who wanted marriage. Even John, flirty

as he was, had a maturity and confidence that came from

understanding how to keep a relationship interesting. Then

there was Dave, the sadness in his eyes when he thought of his

wife, the total commitment he seemed to have for her.

I certainly felt that I wanted that before I died.

“Maybe I am!” I finally answered.

“Really? With Dave?”

I could not help but laugh out loud at this suggestion.

“No! Not Dave. He‟s nice and all, sweet really, but I don‟t

think he‟s my type.”

Jo seemed pleased that she was not in competition and moved

a little closer.

“There‟s a rumour going round that his wife is ill, that she

won‟t live long. He might be back on the market soon.”

Her comment made me both cross and curious. I found it hard

to believe that Dave himself would mention this to anyone else.

Perhaps he had. Perhaps I had misjudged him.

“What‟s the rumour?” I asked, deciding to dig a bit.

“That his wife has cancer. One of my neighbour‟s children is

at school with Dave‟s kids. They were playing one day and

came straight out with it. „My mum‟s going to die‟ he said.

Anyway, my neighbour went round and they admitted she was

not well.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Just as Jo was giving me the low down, Elona walked in. She

looked dreadful, as if she‟d been unable to sleep for a week.

“Hi!” we both said to her.

She nodded, but did not talk and started to look in the mirror.

“Anyway,” Jo continued, “they said that Dave‟s wife looked

terrible.”

I was not sure whether to confirm or deny the rumour. This

was a difficult call because I was obliged to keep information

confidential. At the same time, rumours spiralling out of control

were problematic and could cause embarrassment.

“When was this?” I asked.

“Oh! A couple of weeks ago, I think. You know anything?”

With this remark, I could tell that Jo was digging for

information because her casual manner was suddenly replaced

by attentive curiosity.

“I‟ve heard the same rumour,” I responded as casually as

possible.

It was not a lie. Jo seemed to know as much as I did, even if

her source was a little further from home, and the admission that

I‟d heard a rumour did nothing to substantiate or deny her claim.

“Where did you hear it?” she asked, clearly not satisfied by my

response.

I gave a small laugh.

“Well, Jo, where do you hear most rumours?” I asked.

“In here!” she responded.

I said nothing.

Quite masterful that, I thought. I omitted, of course, that it was

Jo who had told me the rumour only a few moments ago. I was

relieved that she‟d got the rumour from outside the company.

My respect for Dave remained intact.

Friends or Lovers

Elona reapplied her make-up and listening to our conversation.

“Bloody rumours!” she remarked, clearly not happy.

“Sorry, Ellie?” asked Jo. “What rumour?”

“I just said that I don‟t like rumours. They are hurtful and

mess people up.”

Jo clearly did not understand why Elona had the hump.

“Someone been pissing you off, Ellie?” she asked.

“If you haven‟t heard, you will soon. There‟s a rumour going

„round about me.”

“What rumour‟s that?” asked Jo.

“‟bout me and Nathan!”

“What about you and Nath?” Jo enquired.

I was concerned at the direction of this conversation. If there

was a rumour, it was the first I‟d heard. I knew from past

experience that if a rumour started it would be hard to quash.

“What rumour?” asked Jo enthusiastically.

“That Nath has a thing going with me!”

What was Elona doing? I felt that I had to act fast.

“Elona! Not another word. To my office now!”

I was not sure if there was a rumour, or whether Elona was

trying to start one, but whichever it was I had to put a stop to it.

Jo looked both shocked and amused. She gestured with her

eyes and head to indicate something to me, but I could not take

it in.

“Quickly now!” I demanded and Elona packed up her stuff and

hurried out of the toilets. As she left, I turned back to Jo.

“That rumour,” I said, glancing at Elona, “is not true.”

I turned to leave wondering whether issuing a denial was wise.

By drawing attention to it, I was indicating that „something‟ was

going on between Elona and Nathan. Half an hour earlier, I felt

Rory Ridley-Duff

that things were under control, but now they could easily spiral

out of control again. If Jo went back to her team and started

talking about it, the rumour might yet cause more problems.

“Jo?” I said.

“Yes,” she replied.

“I would appreciate if you did not repeat to others what Elona

just said.”

“Sure!” she said, with a smile. But it was a smile I didn‟t feel I

could trust. There was too much pleasure in it.

I don‟t often lose my temper, but this was an occasion when

coolly losing my temper was the most effective way to drive

home what I had to say. As soon as Elona was installed in my

office, I turned to her and let fly.

“What the fuck d‟you think you were doing?”

Elona was so shocked that she did not sit down.

“What…..what do you mean?” she said quietly.

“Just answer the question,” I demanded.

“But….but you……you…..” blurted Elona, trying to get a

grasp of the situation.

“I what?”

“I…..I thought…..thought you…,” mumbled Elona

“Thought what?”

Given that I was faking my anger, this exchange struck me as

slightly comical, like something out of Yes, Prime Minister,

when Jim Hacker had Humphrey Appleby in a corner

embarrassed and grasping for words. Elona, however, did not

really cut the mustard as “Sir Humphrey” and that made it hard

for me to keep a straight face.

“I thought you knew?” she said.

Friends or Lovers

This was an interesting turn of events. Was Elona implying

that there was something going on with Nathan, or just that she

thought I knew about the rumour.

“Thought what?” I repeated, gesturing that I needed more

clarification.

Elona‟s eyes started to dart around the room as if she was

looking for something to say. Clearly, she was trying to get me

to say what I knew, but I did not oblige.

“I thought you……well you had Mike and Nathan in here

nearly all afternoon, didn‟t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“So you know, don‟t you?” she prompted again.

“Elona, please tell me what you think I know.”

Elona looked concerned but did not say anything.

“Sit down, Elona,” I said. “I imagine you‟re wondering what

happened earlier?”

She took her place and nodded. I considered carefully how to

put it across.

“I can say with reasonable certainty that we will not be

investigating the matter any further.”

She looked relieved. When I remember the way she left my

room in some distress, it was good to see her relax.

“Does that mean you‟ve got to the bottom of things?”

I wondered what she wanted to hear. Was she asking who had

been found „guilty‟? I wished I could tell her more, but to do so

would breach the confidentiality I observed in these matters.

“Elona,” I started. “We won‟t be looking into it any more.

I‟m satisfied that all parties have told me the truth, at least as far

as they are able to, and I don‟t think that questioning people

further will reveal anything more. I accept that you‟ve had a

Rory Ridley-Duff

difficult time, and I don‟t want to add to your distress any more.

You can go home tonight and sleep better, I hope.”

I was being economical with the truth, but no untruths passed

my lips. My only regret was that Elona might think that her

account of events had been vindicated. But could she really

think that Mike and Nathan would back up her story? That was

naivety beyond possibility. She must surely realise I was being

kind and saving her face.

She seemed happier and relaxed.

“So don‟t start any rumours, okay?” I said pointedly.

She looked up and paused for a moment. Then she nodded to

indicate that she understood.

“I‟ve got a question,” Elona said.

I braced myself.

“Do you know anywhere I could stay?”

I didn‟t enquire why.

“I don‟t, I‟m afraid. Have you put a notice on the board?” I

asked.

“Don‟t want to do that,” she said. “People will ask why, and I

don‟t want to say.”

“Okay. I‟ll ask around discretely. Is there anything else?”

“No,” she answered.

“Give me a few days,” I said. “I have an idea.”

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 30

The evening passed off well. The entrepreneur that Dave was

promoting came across fairly well, and I quite enjoyed minding

him for the evening. He had his younger wife and family with

him and the evening was something of a personal endorsement

and triumph for him after years of struggling at home and in

university laboratories. He was dynamic and Dave made the

most of this during the presentation.

“I‟ve saved the best for last,” Dave announced. “All of Sam‟s

products involve the use of advanced technology to improve

personal hygiene. This last product is something that every

woman will want, and every man will want to buy for her. Sam

tells me that his wife, Elaine, has extensively tested this final

product. She will vouch for it personally.”

Dave cast his eye over to the other side of the stage where Sam

and Elaine were standing.

“Play it again, Sam,” said Dave boldly, and there was a gentle

ripple of laughter as the video images appeared.

The lights dimmed as the finale began. Sam‟s product range

comprised „advanced technology‟ approaches to personal care

that were – to say the least – sensuous in their design and

application. This last product, however, was the one that Dave

believed would become a top seller. It was a battery operated

hair remover that could be strapped onto arms, legs, or

anywhere else that a woman wanted to remove hair. Just as self-

exercise belts use gels to transmit current into the muscles

(without actually having to do any exercise), Sam‟s product

went one further. A narrator started to explain benefits to an

attentive audience.

Rory Ridley-Duff

What does every woman want? Yes, to have silky smooth skin.

And what does every man want? To buy the ultimate gift for his

partner and bring a smile to her face. You want to SHARE.

What every woman will want next Christmas, and what every

man will want to buy for her, is the - Sensuous Hair Removal

Experience.

On the screen, a handsome male model gave a gift wrapped

present to a beautiful brunette, her face full of mock excitement

at receiving her „favourite‟ present. Then, as the man wanders

onto a patio to reveal a breathtaking mountain landscape, he

dons a pair of black glasses – a la Terminator - and a fanfare of

music alerts the audience to a James Bond like action sequence.

The man jumps off a cliff edge and the next 90 seconds is a

tongue in cheek satire of past Milk Tray adverts. The mock-

hero slides down the mountain-side, risking life and limb, to

deliver a second package to a mansion home in the valley

beneath. He leaves the package, with his card, in her bathroom

and jumps out of the window into the night. Moments later, a

blonde in a long robe picks up the package. With a hint of

wickedness in her grin, she takes the package into her stately

bedroom and lies down on the four-poster bed.

The music changes again, the model tastefully disrobes,

removes the gift from her package and relaxes. The satire

switches to playful pastiche of 1980s Flake adverts, and as the

model‟s eyes close and she enjoys the sensual delights of the

SHARE experience, Sam‟s wife moves to centre stage. Dressed

in a daring black dress, adorned with tasteful jewellery, a beam

of light is shone onto her from the back of the auditorium and

the volume of the music lowered.

Friends or Lovers

“Dear guests – Sam and I are so confident that you will enjoy

this wonderful product that we – and I personally – will

guarantee that you will treasure it. We‟ve prepared a gift pack

for every woman here tonight. Take away your own SHARE

experience and enjoy the benefits of the latest in personal

hygiene technology.”

As she stepped back from the microphone, the larger than life

model held a pose reminiscent of the flake advert delicately

crumbling chocolate between two gorgeous red lips. She

sucked, then bit her finger, as her mind becomes occupied with

the erotic. Even as I was starting to think that this was a bit

OTT, I looked around the hall and saw women alternating their

glances at the presentation with chuckles into the ears of their

female friends. The eyes of the men, however, were on stalks

watching every tiny movement of the model applying gel to the

insides of her thighs, then turning the appliance - and herself -

on.

Nobody said it out loud, but everyone clearly understood. This

was no ordinary hair remover. As Elaine walked off the stage

and sat down next to me, I lent over and whispered into her ear.

“You should be selling this at Ann Summers parties!”

She gave a broad smile and leaned towards me.

“We will be, but we can‟t say that here.”

It was my turn to smile at her. When I watched Dave‟s

practice run, he had not shown me this video. He did tell me

that there was another presentation but that Sam and Elaine were

keeping it under wraps. I could now see why.

“What accessories?” I whispered with more than a hint of

curiosity.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Let me put it like this,” said Elaine. “If we‟ve not beaten „the

rampant rabbit‟ into second place by next Christmas then I‟m

going to be pissed as hell.”

I chuckled. This was pretty risqué for IC but it was becoming

clear why Dave was prepared to take the unprecedented step of a

full product launch. She carried on talking in my ear as the

video presentation neared the end.

“You won‟t see the accessories advertised anywhere in your

brochures. Dave thought it might be regarded as distasteful. It‟s

a good hair removal product, much less painful than wax and

much more effective than creams. There is a range of

„innovative‟ extensions. Our pilot trials have produced

spectacular feedback.”

“Can‟t wait to try mine out!” I said.

We exchanged smiles and a final fanfare alerted the audience

to the finale. As the final chord echoed throughout the hall, the

blonde looked seductively into the camera and spoke

breathlessly.

“Much better than Milk Tray!”

The place filled with roars of laughter and the lights came up.

Dave walked back to the microphone and announced that drinks

and snacks were available in the lobby. The gift packs could be

collected at the exits.

The chatter was interminable but the evening was a success

with guests energised and enthusiastic. When the VIPs had been

safely escorted home in pre-booked taxis, I pulled Dave to one

side for a private word.

“Can we slip out of here - there is something I need to discuss.

It can‟t wait until tomorrow.”

Friends or Lovers

Dave nodded, then walked over to Sam and Elaine. He

exchanged words with them, shook their hands and spoke with a

representative of the PR company.

“Okay – we‟re off. They have everything under control.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 31

We walked to a nearby bar and settled ourselves into a corner

table. Dave bought the first round – a real ale for himself, a gin

and tonic for me. As soon as he had parked the glasses on the

table, he removed his jacket and loosened his tie.

“No point standing on ceremony,” I said. “May as well take it

off.”

“I‟ve been wearing these things for 20 years and still hate

them.”

“You should try wearing high-heels!” I joked.

We spent a few minutes discussing the evening. We both

thought it had been a mini-triumph. He confessed that he

thought the product was risqué for IC, but Harry (the MD) had

given him the go ahead. With the company enjoying some

success, there was a feeling that a calculated risk was

appropriate. It might backfire, but if it did so, the portfolio was

now broad enough to weather a set-back. Alternatively, it might

catapult the company into the top league.

“You wanted to talk about something?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I‟ve had quite a day.”

I recounted the events, including the lunchtime meeting with

John, and Dave reacted in quite a peculiar way.

“John? Who‟s this John?”

“I met him at the conference in Paris. Not at the actual

conference, on the flight home...”

“Is he married?” he interrupted sternly.

“Yes,” I said a bit defensively, “Why do you ask?”

His question irritated me.

“Is it wise?”

Friends or Lovers

“Dave! You are married too!” I said trying to lighten the

mood.

“Yes, but I‟m a close colleague,” he said casting me a bad-

tempered glance. “It‟s different!” he said.

I sat for a few moments wondering why it mattered to Dave.

The more I thought about it, the more incensed I got.

“Why is it different?” I said, deciding to defend my friendship

with John.

Dave immediately looked a bit put out. Could he be jealous, I

wondered?

“Well…I see you all the time. We know each other well.”

I thought about how much more John knew about me. For all

the time I‟d spent with Dave, he knew only a fraction of the real

me.

“John and I know each other well,” I affirmed.

Dave looked at me with surprise and I realised that he may

have misinterpreted what I said.

“Work colleagues often go out together. It‟s just different isn‟t

it?”

“I don‟t see why,” I said firmly. “John and I exchange e-mails

as often as you and I talk.”

Dave raised his eyebrows.

“It‟s different, Penny,” he said starting to sound defensive.

“How often do you and I go out after work?” I asked. “I didn‟t

even know that your wife had been unwell until you told me

recently.”

I wished that I could hide my irritation, but it must have been

obvious because Dave backed off a bit. I could see in his

body language and movements that he felt hurt. As I didn‟t

Rory Ridley-Duff

want the situation to spiral out of control I decided to offer some

reassurance.

“I‟m fond of you, Dave!” I said, and his face lit up again.

“How are things at home?”

The smile left his face and his eyes were downcast.

“My parents are with her tonight. I don‟t think she‟ll ever

leave hospital.”

“D‟you want to talk about it?” I asked.

He looked up at me and appeared unsure.

“Maybe after another round of drinks…” he said tentatively.

“Let‟s get this work stuff finished, then I‟ll get the next round

in,” I said positively.

Dave listened to the story that unravelled with Mike, Nathan

and Elona. I watched him closely as I described Mike‟s part of

the story to see if I could detect anything in his response. He

seemed to take it in okay, and concurred with me that I would

need his authorisation to fund Mike‟s housing costs until he

could find accommodation elsewhere. He recommended that I

see Legal to arrange a three-month tenancy. He promised to e-

mail them first thing in the morning.

“When does he want to move in?”

“As soon as possible, I think. He‟s shacked up at a hotel at the

moment.”

Dave gave a small laugh. I don‟t know why, but I was

immediately irritated. Why did he have to laugh like that? Why

take pleasure at Mike‟s marriage breaking down? I didn‟t

expect it of Dave.

“Thanks!” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster.

I downed my gin and tonic then went to the bar to get another

round of drinks. I had not been to this place before so I cast my

Friends or Lovers

eyes around while waiting to be served. Most of the patrons

were in their 30s and 40s. The tables were wooden. They had a

natural look about them, not that “manufactured to the nearest

tenth of a millimetre” feeling. The edges were jagged and

rough, and each table had a bowl in the middle that had the

appearance of driftwood, filled with stones. On the wall, there

was wood panelling, deliberately unvarnished to fit in with the

tenor of the furnishings. I liked it.

Drinks in hand, I returned to the table and asked Dave again

about the situation at home. He looked awkward and reticent, so

I put my hand on his shoulder and encouraged him. His eyes

looked down into his lap as he spoke.

“She‟s deteriorating,” he said. “They give her less than a

month. The doctors want to talk to me tomorrow. I‟m dreading

it.”

It was difficult to respond. I thought about trying to show deep

sympathy, but it was impossible for me to feign feelings that I

didn‟t have. Certainly I cared, but doing the “there, there”

routine just was not me. I thought of my father. He had an

expression, drawn from his love of cricket: “playing a straight

bat”.

“What will you say?” I finally responded.

He looked up. I don‟t think he expected me to ask such a

question.

“Er….I‟m…..I‟m……” he stopped for a moment.

“You‟ll have to tell them something, Dave,” I continued.

He looked pained and I could not really work out why. Not

having had a lover or even a family member in this situation, I

wondered if I was being insensitive. The problem, however,

was that I didn‟t know how else to be.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I‟m……I‟m……”

I began to grow tired of his hesitation, but I tried not to show

it.

“…..torn!”

Finally!

“What are you torn about?”

He gave me a look that was puzzling, as if he thought I might

be slightly mad.

“I‟m torn between helping her die and keeping her alive,” he

responded brusquely, as if he had noticed my prickliness and

was responding with some of his own.

“I‟m sorry, Dave, of course!” I felt a bit of a twit but then some

words emerged from my mouth that I wished had remained in

the darkness of my mind.

“Might it be kinder to let her die?”

He looked at me and I saw tears form in his eyes. I surely

should have felt more sympathy for him, but for some reason he

was irritating me. For someone approaching forty, he sure was

immature. And yet, even as I had these thoughts I heard my

father‟s voice. „What‟s the deeper meaning here, Penny?‟ I

kept asking myself „why don‟t I feel more sympathy?‟ Why?

The right thing to do at this moment would have been to put my

arms around him. I could see his face growing red. A few days

ago, I had no problem comforting him. Why was I putting up

barriers now?

These thoughts swirled around in my head. I traced my mind

back and suddenly realised that his moment of mirth at Mike‟s

situation really infuriated me. But why? “What is the deeper

meaning here?” I kept asking myself. There in my mind was my

father smiling at me, encouraging me to reflect. Suddenly, the

Friends or Lovers

awful realisation hit me. I was evaluating them, deciding which

of them would get my sympathy.

When the meeting with Mike had concluded, he found it in

him to pay me a compliment. “I can see why Dave hired you,”

he had said. He had every reason to hate me, but instead he

appreciated me. It was generous and I kept thinking I had

completely misjudged him. I didn‟t feel worthy of his respect.

The moment Dave took pleasure at Mike‟s misfortune he lost

my respect.

So I sat there and found myself no longer wanting to comfort

Dave. I even started to wonder if Dave was playing the

sympathy card. Even as I chastised myself for being so

uncharitable, I kept asking myself why I felt more sympathy for

Mike than Dave. After all, I hardly knew Mike. Why did it

matter? Dave broke the silence.

“I don‟t want to admit that it would kinder to let her die. I

can‟t bear the thought of losing her.”

As he said this, I saw his eyes furtively look at mine. That

didn‟t seem right. He was watching me to see how these lines

played. I continued with a straight bat.

“It would be kinder, wouldn‟t it?”

Dave‟s eyes were on me now as we talked and I felt

increasingly self-conscious.

“Yes. Unbearable. But kinder!”

It felt incongruous that he was looking deep into my eyes

while talking about his wife dying. I fought a gut instinct to get

up and walk out. I stopped looking at him but then he spotted

my awkwardness.

“Penny? Are you okay?”

Rory Ridley-Duff

I was not sure what to say. I couldn‟t tell him how I was

feeling. My sense of urgency was growing.

“I feel a bit unwell,” I said hurriedly. “Just need to go to the

loos and then I‟ll be back. Wait here,” I said.

“Okay,” he replied.

As I started to get up, I felt his hand touch my back and my

body reacted like it had received an electric shock. I was sure

he sensed my tension because his hand dropped and eyes looked

away. It was an instant reaction and both of us realised what it

meant. I made my way to the toilets and lingered there for as

long as I could without appearing rude. When I came out, I

grabbed my glass and tried to smile.

“Look, Dave, I‟ve had a really long day and my stomach does

not feel good. I appreciate you meeting me and going through

things. I‟ll come in early and sort the stuff out with you. It went

really well tonight. You were a star. Book some time off and

spend it with your wife. Grab every moment you can.”

I was talking too quickly. Even so, he did not challenge me

and just kept nodding.

“Okay, Pen, okay. D‟you want me to walk you back?”

“No, no!” I said too quickly. “It‟s okay. I‟ve drunk too much.

I‟ll get a cab. Pick the car up tomorrow.”

I looked at the table and saw that he had nearly a whole pint to

drink up.

“Perhaps, you should do the same!” I blurted out.

“I‟ll do that!” he replied.

“Okay, then. I‟ll see you in the morning. Don‟t stay up too

late, will you?”

“No, I won‟t”

“Bye.”

Friends or Lovers

“Bye,” he replied with just a hint of sarcasm.

Whatever hopes I had of growing close to Dave, they

evaporated that night. I could not explain why, it was a sixth

sense telling me not to get close to him. As I rode home in the

taxi, the events of the last week just kept playing in my mind.

My opinion of Mike had risen from rock bottom to something

approaching respect. Perhaps I was attracted to him? My desire

for John had changed from one of girlish lust to one of sisterly

love. As for Phil, he had changed from someone on a level with

a placement student, to a sharp and roguish young man who

merited the occasional fantasy. As for Dave, my respect for him

was waning. What was going on? What was happening?

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 32

When I got home, I poured myself another glass of wine and had

a bath. The events with Dave were upsetting so I tried to

eradicate them from my mind with soothing music and some

self-pampering. I ran a bath and as I lay in the warm water, I

thought about Mike. I had to find a way to make up for the way

I had treated him. Even though he had reason to feel bitter, he

chose not to be. I wondered why he was not offended. The

more I thought about him, the more I felt I had misjudged him,

the more I started to like him.

As these positive thoughts about Mike ran around my head, it

raised new questions over Dave. He had told me to “find out

about Mike” because “he may become a problem”. I was now

curious about Dave‟s comments. It was as if he felt threatened

by Mike and wanted me to get dirt on him. I made a mental

note to follow it up with Phil.

With these thoughts behind me, I started to relax and drink the

wine. I indulged myself by recalling Phil‟s red cheeks when I

flirted with him. He may be young, but he was quite a dish.

With the soap in my hands, I ran it over my breasts and built up

a sumptuous lather. Then I did my stomach, thighs and between

my legs. I arched my buttocks and started working on the folds

of flesh between my legs. This was a good way to relax, but the

water kept washing away the wetness I was feeling and

prevented me reaching orgasm, so I got out of the bath and

returned to my bedroom.

On my bed was the bag from the launch. The SHARE

experience? Yes, it was there. Inside the bag there were two

gift-wrapped presents. I undid the larger one to reveal a tasteful

Friends or Lovers

package that contained a battery operated motor. There were

two buttons on it, one for switching the device on and off, and

the other to increase and decrease the intensity. On the side

were four holes for attaching accessories. There were several

pads and a tube of gel. Some of the pads were round, but one

was triangular and obviously moulded so that women could use

it to remove their pubic hair. I started to feel aroused as the

sense of expectation started to build.

I used my fingernail to slide under the sellotape and gently

remove the gift wrap from the second gift. As I opened the

package, I started to lick my lips with a sense of exhilaration.

Inside was a dildo extension and another tube of gel. The dildo

was mainly plastic but there were small metal panels inlaid at

various points. A small instruction book was also inside and I

excitedly opened it and read:

“Apply the SHARE gel to both the accessory and the pubic

hair remover for an unforgettable experience.”

So there I lay on the bed almost breathless with anticipation. I

took it in my hand and turned it over. There was a fine mesh of

plastic teeth interspersed with similar inlaid metal panels.

I applied the first tube of gel, plugged the panel into the motor,

and attached the straps that were included. By the time I had

finished, I looked like a porn model. Next I took the dildo and

second tube of gel and worked my hands up and down the shaft

until it was covered all over. I pictured Phil‟s cock in my hand

to increase my excitement. I looked like someone‟s whore,

enjoying my sexual power.

Lying back on the bed, I lifted up my legs and inserted the

dildo into the motor device then inserted it. The gel was good

and it slid in nicely and I worked it around until its full length

Rory Ridley-Duff

was pressing on the pit of my stomach. I played with myself for

a couple of minutes, pressing on my clitoris at the same time to

heighten my arousal. Then, with my free hand, I reached over to

the motor and pressed the on switch. A sensation ripped

through me that made me shudder in total ecstasy. Not only

could I feel a gentle vibration on my pubic bone, there was a

gentle vibration inside me. I remembered the booklet describe

an intensity button for “a special experience”. With each press,

small shots of electricity engulfed my pussy from both the hair

remover and the dildo and I just gasped.

The SHARE experience had been thoughtfully designed. As I

let my finger work me into a frenzy, I imagined Phil, Mike and

John walking into the room. There I was, bare breasted and

naked with my legs wide apart, dildo inserted, as I played out a

fantasy of being a hot and horny slut. Phil and John came either

side of me. John took my breasts in his hand and gentled rubbed

them while I felt Phil‟s mouth on mine. John started to pinch

and suck my nipples and run his hands all over my stomach and

sides. While they gorged themselves, I imagined Mike‟s hand

on the insides of my thighs and his mouth sucking on my

fingers. My finger was now circling furiously, and I closed my

eyes as I imagined Mike‟s tongue in place of my finger,

massaging gently then harder then gentler again, then hard as his

firm tongue edged me towards a heavenly climax. With one

finger on my clit, and the other periodically pressing the „ecstasy

button‟, I imagined my three lovers filling me with cock and

spurting their cum over me until wave after wave of pleasure set

my convulsing body on fire.

As I lay on the bed exhausted, two strange thoughts burrowed

into my mind. Firstly, I wanted Mike. I wanted to fuck him like

Friends or Lovers

no-one else I had ever met and felt I would do anything to have

him. Secondly, the SHARE experience was going to make IC

rich beyond belief. How could this product fail? How could

anything capable of bringing women so much pleasure be

anything except a runaway success?

In that moment, the future took on a positive glow and I saw

myself as Phil had seen me, as a Professor of Cunning, a vixen

with a keen eye, finishing a new plan to suck as much pleasure

out of life as possible. With these debauched thoughts filling

my mind my satisfied, naked, emotionally and physically spent

body fell into a deep sleep.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 33

Despite my good intentions to get up early and speed off to

work, my exertions the previous day caused me to oversleep.

Hurriedly, I got up and took breakfast on the way to work. Even

so, I was half an hour late. Given my attendance beyond the call

of duty the previous evening, I felt entitled.

Once at work, my first port of call was Office Services from

where I picked up the key to the company flat. I found that

Dave had not e-mailed them and I wondered whether he too had

overslept. That being the case, I signed for the keys on my own

authority and proceeded to the legal department to sort out the

paperwork.

“Hi, Stella,” I said walking up to her desk. “I‟m here about the

company flat. I need to arrange for Mike to rent it for three

months. Has Dave been in yet?”

“Yes, he was in here about half an hour ago, but he didn‟t

mention anything about a flat.”

That‟s strange, I thought. I was sure Dave said he would sort

this out. Perhaps I had misunderstood him.

“Did he e-mail you about it?” I asked

“Let me check,” said Stella.

She quickly checked her inbox and shook her head.

“He must have forgotten!” I said. “We agreed last night that I

could rent it out to Mike Bennett. I need to sort out a three-

month tenancy agreement for him.”

“Well, I can get the paperwork sorted,” Stella replied. “But

you‟ll need Dave to sign the contract. It has to be a director.”

“Okay. Can you sort out the paperwork and I‟ll come back

this afternoon.”

Friends or Lovers

I returned to my desk and said good morning to Phil. He was

cheerful and greeted me warmly. I felt that we were developing

a good working relationship and the prospect of that pleased me.

We had been through an emotional experience together.

I sent Dave an e-mail to ask him to sign the contract that Stella

was preparing and promised to catch up with him later in the

day. I told him that “after testing the product personally, I think

the SHARE experience is going to be a winner.”

I chatted with Phil and mentioned that I wanted to offer my

apologies to Mike.

“Keep that off the record,” quipped Phil.

“Yes, of course,” I responded.

Then – for a reason I could not fathom - I winked at him. He

gave me a broad smile in return. What was I doing? Even as I

struggled to understand myself, I felt good inside, like a

newborn person. She was happier than the old one, confident

and self-assured, complete and rounded, tolerant and

self-critical. I found that it gave me pleasure to give others

pleasure.

I found Mike having a coffee with a woman.

“Can I just interrupt a moment?” I asked.

“Sure, we‟re just chatting.”

“Here are the keys for the flat. Dave says you can move in any

time you like. There‟s some paperwork being drawn up. You‟ll

need to sign that later.”

“Thanks! I appreciate this.”

The woman nodded her approval too, which struck me as

slightly odd. She was older than me. Her clothes were well

kept but not designer labels. She came across as someone who

would look chic if she could afford it, but was not currently able

Rory Ridley-Duff

to. Her face had a modest amount of make-up around the eyes,

but other than this she had a natural beauty that her advancing

years did nothing to diminish.

“Do you need any help moving in?” I asked.

“Are you offering?” Mike replied, in hope more than

expectation, I think.

“Sure, I‟ll help!” I responded.

“Thanks!” he said with some surprise and pleasure. “This is

Sally,” he said looking at his coffee companion. “She‟s offered

to help as well.”

Sally! Things quickly slotted into place. I studied her more

closely and felt her doing the same to me. She was in her mid-

forties and kept herself fit. Her face looked as if she applied

cream, but I could not detect any eye-shadow or blusher. Her

attractiveness was natural, not manufactured. I extended my

hand.

“Good to meet you. I feel like I already know you a bit,” I

said.

She glanced in Mike‟s direction as she responded.

“Yes, I gather he has told you quite a bit about me. Not all

good I hope!”

I liked her playfulness and returned the favour.

“Well, he said he‟d leave you to fill in the details.”

Mike smiled when he heard me say this and glanced at Sally to

check that she was not going to scold him. Sally continued the

riposte.

“From what he‟s been telling me, it doesn‟t sound like he left

details out!”

“Then you can get your own back by telling me all his

secrets!”

Friends or Lovers

I felt an instant rapport. It was like that with John, and I hoped

it would be the same with Sally.

Sally looked playfully at Mike.

“Good idea. There are plenty to tell,” and then, as she looked

back at me she added, “Are you interested in them?”

Linguistically speaking, she had just speared me and I realised

she was checking me out on Mike‟s behalf. My confidence was

high, however, and I continued to joust.

“Only the particularly wicked ones!”

She laughed out loud and then turned to Mike.

“Watch this one, Mike! She‟s got her eye on you.”

Mike gave me a wry smile. Today I stood my ground much

better and did not look away.

“And very nice eyes they are too,” he complimented.

Sally laughed and managed to divert attention from the colour

that was flushing through my cheeks.

“Well, I have to familiarise myself with this new SHARE

experience!” blurted Sally. I laughed out loud and it caused

both of them to look at me enquiringly. At that moment I felt

just a touch of embarrassment.

“What?” I asked.

They both paused momentarily, and then Mike spoke.

“Are you going to share it?” he said, with a chuckle.

I caught his dark and sexual humour, but it went over Sally‟s

head. I wondered how I could respond without being too

explicit.

“I‟m already familiar with the SHARE experience. Sally,

you‟re in for a treat – particularly if they give you a product

sample.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

Sally and Mike looked at each other in a puzzled way, and then

Mike turned and winked at me out of Sally‟s line of sight. I

actually felt butterflies. He was definitely flirting with me. To

my relief Sally did not ask any further questions.

“See you after work, then?” asked Sally.

“I‟ll come by your office around 5-ish,” answered Mike.

“You definitely in?” asked Sally, directing the question at me.

I nodded and then Sally lent over and whispered into my ear.

“Be careful! He‟ll charm the pants off you and before you

know it you‟ll be deeply in love with him.”

Her remark cleared up many loose ends. The story that Phil

had uncovered, and that Dave had hinted at, suddenly made

sense. Sally realised that she would never have a hold over

Mike the way that she wanted to and had accepted the next best

thing. I realised that she was talking from experience and while

I was grateful for the advice, it also brought home to me that the

issue was not whether he could charm the pants off me, but

whether I could charm the pants off him.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 34

Back at my desk, I asked Phil to come into my office. As my

mind went back over events, I realised that Dave had fuelled my

concerns about Mike and this had directly motivated me to ask

Phil to investigate Mike‟s private life. Given the way that

events had turned out, I wondered why Dave had done this.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

Phil looked quite relaxed so I felt it may be a good time to

gather his thoughts on the outcome of the investigation.

“Okay. Quite a turn of events, wasn‟t it?”

“Yes – it certainly was. When did you think something wasn‟t

right?” I asked.

Phil sat back in his chair and became quite animated. He

clearly appreciated his views being taken seriously and was keen

to express them.

“Quite a while ago. When I sat in the canteen with Mike‟s

colleagues nothing seemed to fit. When Mike lost his temper

with you in that meeting, I think my suspicions were

confirmed.”

I wondered how much I should tell Phil. I was going to need

his help again and involving him would be risky. I decided to

come clean.

“I was not particularly clever over this,” I said.

“You seemed pretty sharp to me,” he replied.

I gave him a smile and shrugged my shoulders.

“I‟d love to take the credit,” I said, “but that would be

dishonest. Someone outside work – a good friend – suggested

to me that maybe I was looking at things the wrong way.”

“I see,” mused Phil.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“You were not entirely wrong when you asked if someone had

influenced my thinking.”

It was Phil‟s turn to smile at me.

“Anyone I know?” he asked.

“No. Someone outside work. We discussed the situation –

hypothetically.”

Even as I gave Phil this explanation, I felt a tinge of

embarrassment that I did not admit how completely wrong I had

got things.

Why had I been so convinced that Elona was right and Mike

wrong? Mike, if anything, had acted with remarkable restraint

when I moved him to a new department. I took that as an

indication of his guilt. It never crossed my mind for one second

that he might actually be helping and protecting his accuser. In

fact, he sacrificed his own interests to honour a promise to

Elona. I had never met anybody willing to do that. It did not

just add to my respect for him, it shamed me for the selfish way

I conducted my life. In the pub, John said we only see what we

are looking for. What an insight that is! I was only looking for

things that confirmed Mike‟s guilt and Elona‟s innocence.

As I considered these thoughts, I reflected on my own

behaviour. How many times had I taken the lead? Often. How

many times had I made a pass at a man? I had lost count. I was

a master at coaxing someone into making a pass and I suddenly

realised how it is almost impossible for two people to get into an

intimate situation without both parties actively considering a

relationship.

In the past I had been hurt. My cavalier attitude toward men,

indeed my hostility toward them, was rooted in the pain of past

rejection. Afterwards, I had judged all men harshly. It was only

Friends or Lovers

when I met John that I wanted to find a way out. My loneliness

was largely a choice and not an accident or misfortune.

My fear of being intimate – my fear of sharing thoughts and

feelings – began to fade when I met John. He taught me the

value of being honest about my desires. My errors were born

out of a desire to protect myself, to avoid the pain of rejection

and avenge those who I thought were responsible. Can I forgive

myself for not being perfect? Can I forgive myself for having

fears? If shame and fear are the price of the warmth and desire I

now feel, then it is a price worth paying. However imperfect,

inconsistent, fearful and difficult they are, I want to know the

people in my life better.

Phil waited patiently. Finally, I spoke.

“If he had not helped me understand my own prejudices, I

might have been responsible for a tremendous injustice.”

I saw Phil‟s eyebrows quickly rise and fall and he tried to form

some words.

“I can only speak for myself,” he said. “You should take some

credit. I may be young, but I‟m old enough to have seen people

dig themselves into an early grave through bitterness.”

I looked up at Phil.

“When did you become so wise?” I asked.

“We all have our cross to bear,” he said with just a hint of

sadness.

It was strange to sit in my office exchanging these views with a

person who just a few days earlier I would not have credited

with sufficient experience or wisdom to handle a dispute. In this

moment, I felt young next to him, and wondered what else I

might have missed. The humility did me good. He grew in

Rory Ridley-Duff

stature before my eyes. Perhaps I had as much to learn from

him as he from me.

“Phil,” I said. “I need your help again.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“D‟you remember that I asked you to find out about Mike – a

kind of necessary evil?”

“Yes.”

“I did so because Dave led me to think Mike might become a

problem.”

Phil realised not only the extent to which I was about to take

him into my confidence, but also the import of what I was about

to suggest. I saw him momentarily shuffle uncomfortably.

“And now?” Phil asked.

“And now I‟m not sure who to believe,” I responded.

“Are you suggesting what I think?” queried Phil.

“We need to find out whether there‟s a reason for Dave‟s

animosity.”

“How?” Phil asked.

“Eyes and ears to the ground again. Not sure what else we can

do because I‟ve no idea where to start.”

“Okay. I‟ll see what I can find out.”

This instant loyalty and acceptance of responsibility moved me

so I felt it necessary to sound a note of caution.

“Phil,” I said pointedly, “we‟ve just poked around a number of

people‟s private lives and screwed them up. This isn‟t a seek

and destroy mission, just a way to understand what happened.”

“I understand,” he replied.

“There‟s one other thing,” I added.

“What‟s that?”

I swallowed hard at the thought of what I was about to say.

Friends or Lovers

“I am starting to fancy Mike like crazy. Do you think I‟m

mad?”

Phil‟s face broke into a broad smile.

“Come on, what d‟you think?” I asked with urgency.

“I think,” Phil said with a momentary pause, “that he is old

enough to be your father….”

“Oh!” I said, somewhat deflated, but Phil put up his hand to

indicate that I should stop talking.

“…and that he‟s also one hell of a lucky guy.”

I was so chuffed that Phil said this that I was lost for words.

Eventually, in a moment of blind instinct, I offered him my

hand.

“Friends?” I said.

He took my hand and shook it firmly.

“Yes, of course!” he replied.

As I look back over my life now I can trace the start of my

friendship with Phil to this meeting. The amount of goodwill

that was generated between those four walls in a few minutes

contributed to one of the best working partnerships I would ever

have. It was a risk, much as John had taken a risk with me. The

result would be one of the most enduring and loving

relationships I would ever have.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 35

Later in the afternoon, I returned to Legal to collect the contract

for Mike. I found that Dave had still not signed it. I guessed

that Dave must be too busy to deal with it, so I took the contract

to Harry, the company‟s managing director, and explained the

situation. I admitted my mistake, but also said that the proposed

settlement would ward off the possibility of litigation and save

the company money in the long run. I added that Mike was

doing a good job establishing the new sales team and that any

protracted dispute could have indirect costs that were

unforeseeable. Harry accepted my comments with good grace.

“Quite a learning experience?” he asked.

“You‟ve no idea,” I answered.

“I know we see each other infrequently, Penny, but I‟m

assured by Dave that you‟ve made quite a mark here.”

“Thank you. That‟s good to hear,” I responded. Today was

turning into a very good day indeed.

“Don‟t be afraid to drop in from time to time.”

I swallowed quite hard when I heard this. Until now, I had

only met Harry formally, but he was inviting me to be more

informal with him. The flattery that I felt was considerable and

I duly made the promise. He signed off the contract to rent the

flat to Mike and called Legal to approve the pay settlement. I

thanked him for his help and left his office feeling as though I

had just grown wings and could fly.

My detour took me near to Jo‟s office. I felt I should touch

base with her over the comment Elona had made. I did not want

gossip or rumour to spread. As I walked into her office I heard a

voice that was familiar. A strange feeling came over me.

Friends or Lovers

Surely it could not be? But as I walked up to the door the voice

was unmistakable. As I entered the room, presentation in full

flow, John was outlining his thoughts on male and female

consumer behaviour.

John noticed me at the back of the room and his face beamed.

“Hello there!” he said with just a trace of a smile.

Everybody turned around to look at me and for a moment I felt

quite embarrassed.

“You know each other?” asked Jo.

I was not sure whether to admit to a close friendship in front of

all the others, but if I had denied it then it would surely have

shown in my face. My attitude to mixing business and personal

relationships was momentarily compromised.

“Yes,” I answered, “We are good friends.”

I could see Sally looking both pleased and surprised as she

whispered something in the ear of a colleague. As I looked at

John, our eyes connected just long enough for others to register

that we were more than acquaintances. Tongues would

probably wag, but there was little I could do.

“You are Jo‟s new consultant, then?”

John looked at Jo.

“Jo and I are good friends too…,” he replied, continuing the

charade.

In my mind I wondered “how good?” but I resisted the

temptation to ask. I imagine she was asking herself the same

question about me.

“….we‟ve worked on projects together and had some

interesting results!”

The way he said „interesting‟ made both Jo and him laugh out

loud.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Okay everyone. That‟s more or less it for today. See you all

next Wednesday. Remember to bring in lots of magazines.

Guys, you‟ll need to bring some in yourself – if you don‟t buy

them normally, buy some this week. We are going to learn

where different products are advertised and you are going to do

some serious research about men and women! And don‟t forget

to ask yourself „what is the most sexist thing about the army?‟

We‟ll touch on that again next time.”

With these words, he shut down his laptop to signal the end of

the meeting and walked over to greet me. Without batting an

eyelid, he put his hand on my shoulders and kissed me on the

cheek. For a second I wondered whether to chide him for

creating the impression we were close, but his manner was so

open and unaffected that he disarmed me. Mixed with surface

irritation, however, was a deep pride that he acknowledged me

so warmly. Not only did it make me feel special, it would

probably do my social standing amongst the staff no harm at all.

“Well, this is a turn up, isn‟t it?”

“I guess it is,” I responded.

“How are you fixed later?” asked John.

I thought for a moment and remembered my commitment to

Mike.

“Helping Sally and Mike move him into a company flat!”

He turned to them both, smiled, and gave a thumbs-up sign.

“Things worked out, then?”

“Sure did!” and he immediately sensed the glint in my eye.

John leaned over and whispered into my ear.

“Watch out! He‟ll charm the pants off you before you know

it!”

I laughed out loud, but John did not understand.

Friends or Lovers

“Someone else said the same thing earlier!”

“Must be true then,” he quipped. “Problem is that he‟s far too

devoted to his wife!”

“Can a man be too devoted?” I joked.

“Sure if it leads him to deny himself the company of other

interesting people.”

“Aren‟t you devoted to your wife?” I asked, with just a hint of

playfulness.

“Yes, I am, but not so much that I would avoid your company,

Penny.”

His eyes had that glorious warmth that I had come to adore. I

could have deliberately misunderstood him and read more into

his words than was there, but an instinct told me not to. Sure he

wanted to be close to me, but I was beginning to realise the

limits of his commitment. I felt that his marriage, indeed his

life, must be an endless juggling act. Reluctantly, I felt myself

giving up any aspirations I had to seduce John and I comforted

myself by looking forward to more fantasies.

“So what‟s going down with Mike, then?” I asked.

John took one look at me and twigged.

“You interested?”

I blushed. Damn it, why do I do that! His remark caught me

so off-guard that for a moment I was angry with him. He

immediately sensed this, and his tone changed in an instant.

“Penny,” he said in a low voice and drawing me towards the

corner of the room. “I would normally not say such a thing, but

Mike is not just a nice man, he‟s a very nice man. Treat him

well.”

“I intend to,” I said.

John smiled.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I believe you will,” he said with more confidence than I felt.

“What about Sally?” I asked. I thought there was no harm

seeing if she was competition.

“The way he tells it to me is that she wants children – he does

not. He‟s got three already and does not want any more. If

they‟d agreed on that then perhaps he would have let her get

close to him, but because of this he would never let anything

start. Apart from that, they‟re like a married couple. They fight

and bicker all the time! She‟s been in love with him for years,

but I can‟t see his feelings changing.”

“No more kids?” I said, more as a remark to myself than a

question for John.

Even as my own sister brought hers into the world, I still felt

no maternal twinge. I wanted a man, not children. I looked at

John again.

“Thanks for that,” I said warmly.

“For what?” he asked.

“For that advice,” I responded.

“What advice was that?” he said.

Whether he was being deliberately obtuse or just plain dumb, I

did not care. Knowing that neither Mike nor I wanted children

took away one potential conflict. John then grinned at me and I

realised that he was playing. Mike and Sally came over and

John announced that he too was helping with the move.

I returned to my office and decided to make one more trip to

Dave‟s before packing up my things. I was looking forward to

the evening.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 36

“There you are!” I said. “I‟ve been looking for you all day.”

“Why‟s that?” answered Dave.

“The flat, the contract!” I said

“What contract?” answered Dave.

“Don‟t you remember?” I asked.

This was odd, I thought. Dave was behaving quite strangely

and I was confused. I went over the talk we had the night before

in the pub and he listened without making comment. When I

finished, he finally said something.

“I said you‟d need my approval, but I didn‟t approve it.”

“Dave! What d‟you mean?”

“I wanted to discuss it with Harry first. We didn‟t agree

anything last night – you just told me what you wanted to do. I

didn‟t agree to it.”

“What do you mean? You said you‟d e-mail Legal this

morning. You said you would go and see them to sort this out.”

“You‟re mistaken, Penny,” he said.

His stubbornness was mirrored by the rigidity in his body. He

was standing next to his desk. His fists were clenched as he

spoke. My mood changed from one of confusion to concern. I

couldn‟t understand why he was behaving this way. What was

he playing at?

“Well, whatever Dave!” I said. “I just dropped by to say that

I‟ve sorted it anyway. Mike is moving in tonight.”

“What?”

Dave was acting so strangely that I felt like asking why, but I

confined myself to the issue in hand.

“He‟s moving in tonight,” I said again.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“But we haven‟t sorted out a contract yet. You haven‟t given

him any keys, have you?”

“Yes, I have. And I‟ve sorted out the contract.”

He looked defensive and angry.

“How?” he said, almost shouting. “I need to sign it. You

haven‟t signed it yourself?”

“No!” I answered.

It was my turn to feel defensive.

“So how d‟you sort it?” he asked with a tone bordering on

aggression.

“I got someone else to sign it because I couldn‟t find you.”

“You went around me?”

“No, I didn‟t „go around you‟, I couldn‟t find you so I got

Harry to sign.”

Dave looked at me, clearly irritated. I wondered if something

might have happened at the hospital.

“Don‟t do it again!” he said finally.

On another occasion I would have challenged him, but I

wanted to retreat. His behaviour was strange and my evening

engagement so much more inviting. He was speaking to me like

a child. That was so out of character I decided to give him the

benefit of the doubt. He must have had a very bad day.

“Okay,” I said. Without saying goodbye, I left the room.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 37

It took us less time than expected to move Mike‟s stuff. As the

flat was partly furnished, he needed to take only a few easily

transportable things, plus his clothes, bedding, computer, hi-fi

and a portable television. With four helpers and four cars, we

quickly filled each of them up, drove to the new flat, unloaded

and had four glasses of champagne on the table before the 7pm.

Sally raised her glass.

“To new beginnings,” she announced.

We all dutifully raised our glasses and clinked them together.

“To new beginnings!”

I noticed myself glancing in Mike‟s direction repeatedly.

Sometimes he would look back and acknowledge my interest,

but at other times he would remain engaged in conversation with

John and Sally. I initially felt out of place amongst such close

friends, but they took care to include me in their conversation.

As the evening wore on I felt more and more relaxed. By nine

o‟clock, after we had consumed a pizza-takeaway and several

bottles of wine, Sally stood up and raised her glass.

“Penny,” she started. “This man here….,” she lost her balance

for a moment as the drink began to affect her. She quickly

regrouped and continued, “….this man saved my life.”

Mike‟s eyes looked downward as he shook his head and

laughed.

“Yes he did! Yes he did! I don‟t mean he saved my life like

he rescued me from death or anything. I mean that he rescued

me in here.”

She pointed to her heart with a finger and kept stabbing herself

as she laughed.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Mike‟s eyes looked everywhere but towards me and I sensed

that he wished Sally would shut up.

“Don‟t you look around the place like that!” she barked at

Mike. “You‟re one of life‟s superheroes.”

Mike threw up a hand to discard her remark.

“I don‟t think Dave would see it like that…,” answered Mike.

“Come on Sal, sit down love and rejoin the party.”

“Sod Dave!” she said. “He and his stinking brother can rot in

hell for all I care.”

This outburst – and the mention of Dave‟s name – fired my

curiosity but in my drunken state I was more interested in giving

Sally some sisterly support.

“You leave „er alone, you!” I said boldly. “If she wants to

praise you, let „er!”

As Sally sat down, I stood up. Her boldness had made me bold

and I wanted to say my piece as well. I wobbled momentarily as

I raised my glass to John.

“This man,” I said looking at him.

I decided to mimic Sally so I feigned a stumble.

“This man saved my career!”

John smiled back and raised his glass to me in appreciation.

“Did he? Well, I never,” responded Sally. “How d‟ee do

that?”

I was feeling liberated so I let my feelings spill out. As I spoke

I looked deep into John‟s eyes. I wanted him in no doubt how

special he was to me.

“Well firstly, he helped me see something that I couldn‟t see.

When he did that….(hic)….”

Everybody laughed as I struggled to articulate what I felt.

“….he stopped me causing this man…”

Friends or Lovers

I quickly glanced at Mike before continuing

“…any more upset and pain.”

Mike‟s embarrassed look left his face and was replaced by one

of genuine surprise.

“I was about to do one of the most stupid things I‟d ever done,

and I would‟ve done so if my good friend John – who I will now

love forever…..,” as these words spilled out my hand

instinctively moved to cover my mouth.

“Ah shit! What the hell,” I said and then continued. “This

man…..this man….this man….”

As I stood there, the other three giggled away, but in my mind

a whole world of understanding descended on me and I felt

completely overwhelmed. Before I knew it there were tears in

my eyes and I was struggling to talk. John noticed and started to

get up but I put my hand up to stop him. I did not understand

what was happening to me, but I knew that I had more to say so

I gathered myself and started to find the words.

“….this man…,” as the words formed in my head a single tear

started to roll down one of my cheeks.

“Penny,” said John, “you don‟t have to say this.”

I looked at him and was overcome with such feelings of love

and affection that I put my hand up again.

“John, I do. I do have to say it and I want these two to listen.”

He sat down again and with a resigned look, braced himself for

what he thought I was going to say.

“….this man did more than save my career.”

“Penny!” John interrupted again. “You don‟t have to. Really

you don‟t.”

I laughed as I realised just how comfortable I suddenly felt.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Shut up, you…..you…..arsehole!” I said with a smile.

“You‟ve had this coming to you for a long time so don‟t spoil

it.”

Sally and Mike were transfixed as they witnessed this intimate

exchange.

“Since when did you two get so close?” asked Mike.

“You shut up too, you arsehole, and I‟ll tell you!”

Sally creased up with laughter when I called Mike an arsehole,

and John gave a short chuckle and relaxed in his chair.

“You men, honestly! Never know when to shut up….”

As I spoke, I giggled at the comedy that was taking place.

“Right! This man…,” and this time I paused for effect more

than anything else, “taught me how to feel again.”

John obviously felt that I was going to tell him again how

much I loved him, so this caught him by surprise.

“For the last 10 years, I‟ve known a series of jerks and losers

and none of them ever made me actually want to know them.

You John, you changed all that. I don‟t know how you did it but

you made me take an interest in living again. I mean really

living – not just have a job and exist. I‟ve been a bad girl, me.

I‟m the sort of person your mother warned you about. Good as

gold at work, but a vixen at night who stalks and preys on vain

and needy men to satisfy her own vanity and neediness. What

I‟ve done while at conferences would fill the pages of a Jackie

Collins novel! But you, John…”

I fixed my eyes and aggressively pointed my finger at him.

“…you made me want to behave!”

Sally and Mike creased up with laughter as I fired my double

barrel. John looked less worried and began to take in what I was

saying. I had them all where I wanted them now, so I continued

Friends or Lovers

with the performance and grew in confidence. As Mike‟s

giggles subsided, the vixen started to return and my gaze left

John and fixed on Mike. Mike starred back at me and for a few

seconds we were transfixed by each other.

“You, on the other hand….,” I said conjuring up the sexiest

look I could muster, “…are the most difficult, stubborn…and

surprising person I‟ve ever met. And one more thing…”

I held up both hands to stop them interrupting.

“You make me want to be bad again!”

When I said this, Sally‟s giggles subsided and it was John who

creased up with laughter. He roared and clapped. Sally, despite

her feelings, started to join in too. Mike, on the other hand,

grinned to himself contentedly. Then, he got up, came over and

gave me a hug.

“You make me want to be bad too!” he whispered in my ear.

And then he pulled away, walking backward, and kept his eyes

on me while he sat down in his chair. I knew. In that moment, I

knew. If I had thought that John had helped me to feel again, it

was nothing compared with the tidal wave that engulfed my

being on hearing these words. Suddenly all the other sounds in

the room seemed to go silent and every fibre and nerve-ending

in my body was focussed on Mike‟s eyes and mouth. A few

moments later I felt a tingle rush through my body and I had to

shut my eyes and wait until it passed. It was the most exquisite

feeling I had ever known, better than any orgasm, better than

any drug. Was this love? Was this lust? In that moment I was

touched by my own humanity. This was living. I blew Mike a

kiss then sat down. A modest contented grin was etched onto

his face and we both knew what was going to happen. There

was not a force in the world that was going to stop it.

Rory Ridley-Duff

It took me a few moments to notice that Sally had climbed

onto John‟s knee and was kissing his forehead.

“As for this one,” she started to say, “he‟s been a bad boy a

few times, haven‟t you my dear?”

Now it was my turn to crease up with laughter. I pointed at

John and shouted at him.

“You sly old dog, you! And there was me thinking you were a

devoted and loyal husband!”

“You are mixing me up with Mike!” he said.

Mike raised his glass to John in appreciation but when I

glanced at Mike, and he glanced back, the thought ran through

my mind that his loyalty was coming to an end.

“Sally?” I quizzed.

Sally looked at me. She did not need to say anything. She and

John were lovers.

“John! How long has this been going on?”

He looked at me half-embarrassed.

“How else do you think I got to know all the stuff that was

going on in his life?” he quipped firing a glance at Mike.

“But I thought he told you?” I responded.

“He‟s too damn loyal for his own good,” answered John. “He

was so loyal to this sweet woman that he nearly destroyed his

marriage. Then he was so loyal to Elona that he nearly

destroyed his career.”

I was laughing again. All my inhibitions regarding John

vanished. Suddenly his resistance made sense. It was not only

his family that he was protecting; it was Sally. He was not the

paragon of virtue I had believed him to be.

“And there was I thinking that you are a family man,” I joked.

Friends or Lovers

“He is, darling,” said Sally. “He‟s frustratingly devoted to his

wife and children.”

I remembered the recent phone call.

“You told her, didn‟t you?”

“Yes, and you called me right in the middle of it! She thought

you were Sally and started wrecking the house. That‟s why I

had to go.”

“Why did you tell her?”

“I wanted to stay at Sally‟s while working on this contract.”

I got up from my chair, offered my hand to John, and asked

Sally if I could borrow him for a minute. She consented, so I

grabbed him and led him roughly across the living room and out

of the flat. Whether it was the drink, the situation, or the

knowledge that he was weak with women, I was not going to

waste this moment.

“Right you!” I said. “This is the one and only chance you will

ever get to kiss me because by midnight tonight I‟m going to be

off the market.”

As I said these words, I pressed myself up against him, put my

hands around his buttocks and pulled him close.

“You have no idea….,” he said.

“Oh yes I have…,” I replied.

Our lips met, gently parted, and our tongues touched. As my

hand slipped under his shirt and felt his strong body, his hands

clutched my behind. We pulled each other close and snogged

until we both sensed that enough was enough.

“One day soon,” I said to him, “I want to talk about this. You

must have known how much I wanted you. Why did you resist

me?”

He looked at me and draped his arms around my neck.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Sally is not the only woman that I‟ve given in to - there has

been one other. But with you, it was different somehow. Being

with you was enough.”

I stroked his face. He did not have to explain how he felt. Just

being with him had been enough for me too.

“I love you, John,” I said. “That‟s what I thank you for the

most. You are the first man, after my father, that I‟ve not been

afraid to love. If you „saved me‟, that‟s how you did it. You

made it possible for me to love again.”

“And I love you too, Penny. You‟re the first woman I‟ve not

had to sleep with to keep interested. With others, if they thought

I was not intending to sleep with them, they would lose interest.

You liked me from the moment we met, even after I told you I

wouldn‟t make a pass at you. That made you special. Very

special.”

“What about Sally?”

“If I‟d not slept with Sally, I‟d have lost her. I‟m fond of her

and she was in a state after Mike returned to his wife. She was,

not surprisingly, very needy. I was there, Mike was gone. That

was the price of continued friendship.”

“She‟s certainly a looker,” I said.

“Yes, but it‟s not that. It was hard for her to leave her

husband. I was part of her recovery, I think.”

I nodded as I spoke.

“You look after her and I‟ll look after you.”

He laughed and held hands.

“You have yourself a deal, Penny Leyton.”

“How are things with your wife?”

“They‟re okay. This isn‟t the first time for either of us.

Things changed some years back. When the kids were both at

Friends or Lovers

school she started working again. We drifted apart and she had

an affair. We worked things through but a lot changed. I

admitted to her that I‟d thought of having an affair as well. We

found that we both liked the idea of more freedom. Soon after, I

took the plunge. Then I met Sally through Mike and gave in

again! My wife and I are still good friends. She‟s a lovely

woman and, thankfully, we‟re able to get past blaming each

other. I admire her more than when we first married but the

exclusivity has been lost. There‟s no way to get it back so

things have changed. The kids are older now. I‟m travelling

much more. We both get lonely. When we are together we still

have a fabulous time.”

“D‟you think you‟ll have a house in one piece when you get

home?” I quipped.

“We both love the kids. There‟s no reason to divorce. Sally

won‟t marry me. She holds a torch for Mike and likes having

her own place. I‟m just a temporary distraction for her.”

“But you need somewhere that‟s a home. You don‟t want to

just drift between places like a visitor?”

“With my work, Penny, my whole life‟s like that. I travel for

days, sometimes weeks, at a time. This is a long contract and

it‟ll be lovely to spend time with Sally. A nomadic life suits me

and I have friends and nests in many places. Maybe I can sleep

in your nest occasionally?”

I smiled. That was a lovely thought and I warmed to it.

“As long as you behave,” I said.

“Not so white as white, am I? I hope you aren‟t disappointed.”

“Don‟t worry, lover. You‟re secret is safe with me.”

With this exchange of words we made our pact. I was

determined to hold onto his love. We hugged again but this time

Rory Ridley-Duff

it was devoid of sexual passion. It was almost as if we were

saying goodbye and hello at the same time.

I thought of Sally and Mike and how everyone thought they

had been lovers. It would be John and I that others would

mistake now. But when I thought about it, we had become

lovers of a sort. There was now such a deep intimacy, a bond as

strong as I‟d ever known. It would be our joke – just as it had

been for Sally and Mike - that acquaintances would

misunderstand.

I remembered John‟s words that there was no such thing as a

non-sexual relationship between men and women, only ones

where they chose not to have sex. Our relationship was now

like that. We both understood our attraction to each other. We

knew that sex would be there if we ever both needed and wanted

it at the same time. But I didn‟t care either way – the most

important thing was to protect the trust.

As for the rest of the evening, Sally retired to one of the

bedrooms with John. I retired to the other with Mike. Sleeping

with Mike for the first time was, without question, the most

special moment of one of the most extraordinary days of my

life. The memory is like a precious stone, a priceless treasure

that sparkles. I hope you will forgive me for shielding it from

gossip that would corrupt it. This diamond is mine, and mine

alone.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 38

I went into work the next day on a tremendous high. Suddenly

all those soppy romance novels, movies, and songs made sense

and I realised people were not simply making it up. Every few

minutes I would pause to think of the future. To have waited

nearly 33 years to discover this! Suddenly I understood why

people could fall apart when their partner leaves, or how a

husband or wife might feel driven to murder after discovering

the other was having an affair. If anybody tried to steal Mike

from me, I felt capable of doing anything. As I sensed these

feelings, I was astonished and frightened, worried and pleased at

the passion I felt.

As I settled down to my computer to retrieve my e-mails, there

was an apology from Dave.

From: dave.stockton@innovation.co.uk

To: penny.leyton@innovation.co.uk

Subject: Sorry

Pen,

Sorry about yesterday. I was irritable and too harsh. Can you

forgive me?

I answered immediately.

Dave,

Don’t worry about it. We all have off days. Is there anything we

need to follow up after the product launch?

I was pleased that Dave apologised because that was how I

expected him to be. Even though I felt like telling him (and the

whole world) what had happened the night before, it would have

been imprudent and insensitive.

Rory Ridley-Duff

There was a knock at the door and Phil was standing with a

cup of coffee.

“You don‟t have sugar, right?” he asked.

This was a surprise. Phil did not usually make coffee unless I

asked.

“Thank you. That‟s very sweet of you.”

“Have to keep the boss happy!” he joked.

“No need to do that today, I‟m happy enough for both of us,” I

responded.

Phil looked up and my smile told him all he needed to know.

“Bloody hell, Penny. That was fast work.”

“Hard to believe it myself,” I said.

“Don‟t tell me…..you…..?”

I just kept silent and smirked enough for him to work out that

he was right.

“Don‟t you go blurting this around the place. Keep it under

wraps for now, okay?”

“Okay. But I can‟t see this staying a secret for long,” Phil said.

“If any rumours start, I want them to come from me.”

“Sure thing, boss!” he said sarcastically.

“Okay. What have you got for me?”

“Elona‟s off sick again. That‟s the third time in two weeks.

She‟s over the 10-day mark and her manager is asking if you‟ll

visit.”

Elona! I had forgotten about her in all the excitement.

“I guess that‟s a good idea. Have you called her?”

“Yes. No answer.”

“Hmm. Strange. Okay, give me the address and I‟ll go round.

No answer from her parents?”

“No. They‟ll probably be in the shop.”

Friends or Lovers

“Yes, of course.”

* * *

I drove to Elona‟s flat and rang the bell. There was no reply so

I entered the shop and spoke to her mother.

“She‟s up there but we can‟t get her out of bed. All weekend,

all last night, just crying and crying. We‟re worried sick.”

I asked them to let me in. Her mother led me though the shop

and up the stairs.

“Elona! Elona, love!” she shouted, “there‟s someone here to

see you….”

There was silence, so her mother gently opened the door of her

room and a crumpled figure lay in the bed asleep.

“Oh the pet!” said her mother. “She‟s cried herself to sleep.

What do you want to do?”

“Can I stay here a bit, maybe make her a drink, wake her up

and chat.”

“Feel free, my dear. We‟re at our wits end. Don‟t know what

to do. We‟ll be in the shop.”

I sat with Elona for fifteen minutes before stirring myself to go

to the kitchen. I took the liberty of putting together

breakfast-in-bed. Having played hide and seek with the butter,

bread, plates and bowls, I finally assembled something that

looked appetising.

“Elona?” I said gently as I rocked her shoulder.

She turned around and after a moment of confusion she saw

the breakfast tray.

“You‟ve been busy!”

“Yes. You looked like you could do with something.”

“What‟re you doing here?” she asked.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I‟m finding out how you are. Nobody at work could contact

you. We were worried.”

She sat up in bed and I gave her the tray.

“This is kind of you.”

“Just part of the job. Don‟t make me into a saint,” I responded.

“No. This is kind of you.”

Earlier in my career I might have believed that these visits

were out the kindness of the company‟s heart but over the years

I had come to realise that this was just another way to ensure

that people did not take the piss and bunk off work. And yet I

did feel concern for her so I accepted her thanks.

“Your mum and dad say you‟ve been upset.”

As I looked at her face, I could see the tear stains around her

eyes. Without make-up she looked quite different, but still had a

girlish charm. She looked at me sorrowfully and tried to talk but

nothing coherent came out. Eventually, she started to nod and

the tears began to flow as she tucked into her toast and cup of

tea. I did not try to start a conversation and just sat next to her.

It is hard watching someone sink into the depths of despair.

We sat there while she finished her breakfast and then she

thanked me again.

“You didn‟t have to come,” she commented.

“Elona. I won‟t kid you. I‟m here because you‟ve been off

work for 10 days this year and it is my job to be here. At the

same time I do care what happens to you and if there‟s a way I

can help then I will. Have you seen a doctor?”

She gave a dismissive laugh.

“He‟ll just say I‟m depressed and give me some drugs. I don‟t

want that.”

“I‟m sure they‟ll do what‟s best.”

Friends or Lovers

At this comment Elona looked at me angrily.

“I said I don’t want that. Did you not hear me?”

The sharpness of her tone took me aback and I realised that

perhaps she was not quite the shrinking violet that I had

previously thought.

“Yes. I heard you,” I said. “What then?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I‟m nothing. Nobody likes me.

Nobody. I‟m useless, completely fucking useless, a waste of

space, a zero, a failure.”

I listened with patience. In the back of my mind, I recalled the

many conversations I‟d had with John. I wondered if he might

be able to help. At the moment, however, I was on my own and

had to do the best I could.

“I need you,” I said.

“You don‟t need me. Administrators are ten-a-penny.”

It was my turn to show a bit of aggression.

“Don‟t give me that crap. I‟ve seen your file and you‟ve

earned that position. There are people at work who believe in

you.”

My efforts were not rewarded.

“I don‟t give a shit. It‟s all meaningless.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I‟m useless. Nobody likes me.”

“Is this to do with Nathan?”

At this remark she turned toward me and I could see the rage

building in her face. Even though she was slightly built I began

to feel a bit afraid. She looked like she was going to explode, so

I started to clear the tray and returned to the kitchen. As I

walked out of the room a torrent of abuse showered my back as

Rory Ridley-Duff

she screamed the place down about Nathan, her parents, her ex-

boyfriend, Mike, work, me, Phil. We had all ruined her life.

I tried to remain calm but it was difficult. When I returned

from the kitchen I held out my hand and surprisingly she took it.

She turned onto her side and wept again. I sat with her for

another quarter of an hour, motionless except for the occasional

stroke of her face.

“Elona. I need to go now. There are a couple of people I want

to talk to and then I‟ll be back. Do you understand?”

She made no movement so I repeated the question and she

gave a nod of her head.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 39

For the rest of the day, I busied myself. My first port of call was

John. He was in a meeting with Jo, but he agreed to take a break

at mid-day and chat to me in the canteen. Next I went to see

Mike. As I walked through the door, he smiled at me as if it was

any other day at work. Even though I was there on business, I

felt myself get aroused as I moved closer toward him.

“Hello….err….Penny!” he said slightly stiffly. “What can I do

for you?”

“Can I speak to you in private?” I asked.

“Anything in particular you want to speak about?” he enquired.

“Elona!” I said in response and suddenly he dropped the

formality and whispered in my ear.

“….and there was I hoping you wanted to shag me in the

toilets….”

I whispered back.

“…..I do, but this has to come first ….”

He pulled his head away and I noticed there was a bulge in his

trousers.

“Better do something about that!” I said with a smile, looking

down towards his crotch.

“Any ideas?” he replied.

“Plenty, but none that I can act on here,” I said.

“If there was a cold shower somewhere, I‟d go and have one.”

“We‟ve got to keep a lid on it at work,” I said.

He nodded and even though I felt like dragging him into the

nearest broom cupboard for a quickie, I managed to calmly lead

him into his own office.

“Okay. What is it?” he asked as soon as I closed the door.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Elona needs somewhere to stay.”

“Elona? What‟s the problem now?”

“The same problem. I visited her and she‟s in a right state. I‟ll

talk to John later, but I think she needs some space to herself.”

“What d‟you have in mind?”

I gave a half smile and got ready to ask him, but he anticipated

me.

“You‟re not thinking…..Jeez! I‟ve only just got you to myself.

Is it really that urgent?”

“Well actually, I wanted to know how you felt about the idea.

It‟s technically your place. I can‟t act without your consent.

I‟m not sure it‟d be a good idea anyway.”

“Elona and I have always got on well. I don‟t hold what

happened against her. She was upset and I was there so she took

it out on me. We were always friends before and I‟m sure we

will be again.”

“Does that mean you‟d be okay if she moved into the other

room?”

“It‟s going to look very odd, Penny?” he said.

“Of course, if you want to get back with your wife….” I

proffered.

He looked surprised at my remark.

“Are you checking me out?” he queried.

My hand instinctively jumped to my mouth. I could hardly

believe what I‟d said and started to apologise profusely. He

walked over and silenced me with a kiss.

“Stop! People will see,” I protested.

“Let them!” he said.

I allowed him to kiss me briefly but stopped him when I felt

my passion rising.

Friends or Lovers

“I‟ll tell her….I‟ll tell her that she can move in next weekend if

she wants.”

“Why next weekend?” he asked.

I lent over and spoke quietly into his ear

“Because this week I‟m going to fuck your brains out every

night!”

And with that remark, I turned to leave the room.

“I‟m all yours,” he said with a big grin.

One of his staff had noticed our kiss and by lunchtime a

rumour was making its way around the offices. As I sat with

John in the canteen, one of the reps came up and congratulated

me. I played it cool by asking “what for?” I talked to John

about my idea and he concurred that a move to the flat might be

helpful to Elona.

When I returned in the afternoon, Elona was up and dressed.

She took the news of the flat offer in her stride and did not seem

to show any great enthusiasm. She promised to think about it

and let me know the next day. I told her again that there were

people at work who cared.

When I got back to the office, the rumour about myself and

Mike had spread to Phil.

“Not a word passed my lips!” said Phil as I brought him a cup

of tea.

“Already?” I asked.

“What did you do – send out a company wide e-mail?”

“No, just a little kiss in his office,” I replied.

“May as well have sent out an e-mail!” he retorted with a

chuckle.

“Oh well! It‟s out now.”

Phil looked at me warmly.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I‟m happy for you,” he said.

* * *

At my desk, I decided to have one last trawl through my e-

mails in case Dave had replied.

Subject: Sorry

Pen,

I just wanted to say that the thought of you testing the SHARE

experience “personally” is definitely something to dream about at

night!! I look forward to a blow-by-blow description of your

experiences.

Dave

x

I sat for 30 minutes while thoughts burned my mind, crashing

and spinning out of control. Beads of sweat formed over my

body and face. With every passing minute, my heart sank

slowly into the quicksand of despair, and the clarity I had

brought to work evaporated as my mind felt like it was turning

to treacle. Where on earth had this come from? As I tried to

find answers to impossible questions, the high spirits that had

kept me aloft all day dissolved. By 4.30pm Phil found me

slumped at my desk.

“What‟s up, Penny?”

I swivelled my screen around so he could read the e-mail.

After a few moments, just two words sprang forth from his lips.

“Oh fuck!”

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 40

Instead of going home, I returned to Mike‟s flat. I think he

expected me to jump him as I walked through the door, but after

receiving Dave‟s e-mail, my mind was preoccupied. Now I had

a personal problem it dawned on me that I hardly knew him.

Could I talk to him? What if I scared him off by mentioning it?

What if he asked questions? Did I really want to explain that I‟d

told Dave about testing out the SHARE experience? Whichever

way my mind went, I could see a potential for disaster.

I gave him a hug, but the promise to explore the love-making

potential of the flat was a distant thought. He seemed to take it

in his stride and did not press me. He made me a cup of coffee,

sat with me, watched the television and held my hand. To

others we looked like a regular couple but inside I was full of

questions about how far I could trust him. He went out for

bottle of wine and came back with two. He joked that the

second was “just in case”.

“Just in case what?” I asked.

“Just in case we finish the first one,” he answered.

I could tell he was nervous too but he poured us both a glass of

wine and we passed the time watching Channel Four News. He

sat at one end of the sofa and I put my head on his lap. Even

though we were not speaking, we communicated a lot. His right

hand lay on the side of my face, stroking me. My right hand

rested on his knee and every few moments I would caress it and

sometimes rub the inside of his knee. Intermittently, his left

hand would stroke the back of mine and I would move my head

and nestle it even more deeply in his lap. Sometimes, he would

slide his fingers between mine and hold my hand more tightly - I

Rory Ridley-Duff

would respond by tightening my grip to catch and squeeze his

fingers.

As I lay there, a line from a film entered my head.

“The little things. There‟s nothing bigger is there?”

“Little what?” he answered.

“I remember this film. There‟s a man standing with a woman

and she‟s talking about her husband who has just died. She says

to him „I miss the little things‟ and the man replies „ah!….the

little things, there‟s nothing bigger is there?‟ Don‟t you think

that‟s a great line?”

He smiled and stroked my head again.

“Where‟s this coming from, Penny?” he asked.

“Well I was just lying here and our hands are touching, I‟m

stroking you, you are stroking me, and these little things mean a

lot, don‟t they?”

“I hope so,” he said.

I sipped the wine as the TV programme played in the

background. I was not really watching it so I started to ask

Mike questions.

“Are you going to tell me about your wife?” I asked.

“Not yet,” he said. “Plenty of time for that!”

It was a small remark, but it gave me confidence that he looked

upon me as more than a fling.

“When did you know?” I asked.

“Know what?” he replied.

“Know how you felt about me?” I answered.

“When I insulted you!”

I sat up and looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

Friends or Lovers

“When we were arguing and I called you a „stupid woman‟ and

I asked you if you‟d ever made a pass at a man. Do you

remember that?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Won‟t forget that in a hurry!”

“Well there I was shouting at you. I can‟t remember ever

standing up to my wife like that. At work, maybe, but at home

I‟ve always been quite passive. And there I was challenging

you on whether you had ever made a pass at a man.”

“Go on,” I encouraged.

“I was thinking how nice it would be if you made a pass at

me.”

I laughed out loud because at that moment I would have fed

him to the sharks.

“You thought of that while we were arguing?”

“Well, yes, I did. I remember being really angry, then looking

at you intently thinking that a woman as confident and smart as

you would surely have made a pass at a man, so the thought

came into my head.”

I was not sure how to react. Before I had time to think, he‟d

asked me the same question.

“When did you know?” he asked.

I thought and went back over my mind.

“Well, I think there were two moments. Firstly, when you

asked why women let men think they rule the world. I‟d always

pegged you as old fashioned and that completely took me back.

Secondly, when you held my gaze and would not look away.

That‟s my trick and you stole it from me! You made me go

funny inside and I couldn‟t hide from myself that you excited

me.”

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked.

Rory Ridley-Duff

I tried to recollect but I couldn‟t.

“Tell me,” I commanded.

“I was with Dave. He‟d been bitching about Harry insisting on

your appointment. He told me to watch out for you because you

were a „ball breaker‟”

“He said that!” I exclaimed.

“He didn‟t want you in the company. He preferred the other

candidate, but Harry insisted on you.”

This came as a surprise. Dave had successfully hidden this

from me for nine months.

“Go on,” I directed.

“Dave and I were chatting and I was about to tell him a sexual

joke. He said to be careful because of you. Anyway, I started

the joke then stopped when I saw you walking toward us.”

“My God! I remember now,” I interjected.

“I annoyed you, didn‟t I?” commented Mike.

I thought back.

“Yes. Yes, you did. I pegged you as a paternalistic anti-

feminist old git.”

Mike laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” I demanded.

“John,” he replied.

“What about him?” I asked.

“I was thinking what John would say,” he replied. “He‟d say

that I censored myself because I was afraid of you.”

“Is that true?”

It was Mike‟s turn to reflect.

“Yes,” he said, after a moment.

“Why would you be afraid of me when you don‟t even know

me?”

Friends or Lovers

Mike looked me in the eye.

“I don‟t know any male manager today who‟s not afraid of

sexual accusations.”

“Are you serious?”

Mike frowned.

“My God, you are!” I responded.

“I didn‟t want your first impression of me to be a bad one.”

“Well, it was, I‟m afraid,” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you didn’t tell me the joke.”

“That‟s the problem,” he said.

“What‟s the problem?” I asked.

“Damned if you do, damned if you don‟t.”

“What do you mean?” I queried

“If I tell the joke, I‟m sexist because I turn women into sex

objects. If I don‟t tell the joke, I‟m sexist because I‟m excluding

you.”

“Was it a good joke?” I said trying to lighten the mood.

“It was brilliant. One of John‟s best.”

I thought back to my e-mail exchanges with John.

“I can imagine,” I replied. “Tell me the joke,” I said sinking

into his lap.

“No,” he replied.

Without any further words he pulled my face closer. His

mouth met mine and we got properly reacquainted. We soon

finished the first bottle of wine and opened the second. If he

had been John, a witty remark would have been forthcoming as

he popped the cork, but Mike was quieter and calmer. While he

had charm and sex appeal, he did not routinely crack jokes or

flirt when he was alone with me. It was strangely reassuring.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I had a shock today,” I blurted out.

Mike felt no need to press me to explain myself. His body was

relaxed and I felt comfortable opening up to him.

“Dave sent me an e-mail that was sexually suggestive,” I said.

“And?”

“That‟s it,” I said.

“You‟re concerned?” he asked.

“Well, yes, I am. He‟s never done that before.”

“Too repressed for his own good,” he answered.

“Too repressed?”

“Yeah. Comes across as such a „nice guy‟ but underneath

beats a heart of appalling meanness,” he said with considerable

force.

“I‟ve always liked him,” I remarked, not absolutely sure how I

felt about him now.

“Yeah! He behaves great to his favourites or women he

fancies. Get on the wrong side of him and you‟ll discover just

what a bastard he can be.”

I recalled how Dave had been suspicious of Mike. Clearly the

feelings were reciprocated.

“He asked me to find out about you.”

“Did he really?” said Mike with a sarcastic knowing laugh.

“Did pretty well, didn‟t I?” I quipped.

“Very well indeed,” he answered seductively as his hand

moved under my blouse, around my waist and started to caress

the small of my back.

“Hmmm. Nice. Do that some more,” I said.

Mike obliged but kept talking at the same time.

“Dave and I go back a long way,” he continued. “We joined

IC at roughly the same time. I was his boss back then.”

Friends or Lovers

“What happened?” I asked.

“We fell out over Sally,” he said.

“Sally?” I responded with some surprise.

“Oh yes. Whenever there is shit in the workplace, there is

usually a man and woman involved!”

“Cynic!” I joked.

“Only half the time…” he answered.

I began to realise that his wit was considerably drier than

John‟s.

“What about the other half?”

“Optimist!” he said without missing a beat, smiling or

wavering for an instant.

“You‟re teasing me!” I answered.

“You like being teased,” he asserted.

Where did he get these insights from, I wondered.

“Get on with your story,” I said with mock impatience.

“Sally used to be related to Dave.”

He paused, as if waiting for me to ask a question.

“Are you going to ask how?” he continued.

“Okay. How?”

“She was Dave‟s sister-in-law.”

I suddenly pretended to be stupid.

“Oh, Mike. You know how dim women can be. Please

explain it for me.”

“Doesn‟t work!” he suddenly said.

“What?”

“Doesn‟t work!” he said again.

“What doesn‟t work?”

“The „can you explain it to me coz I‟m a stupid woman‟

routine,” he replied.

Rory Ridley-Duff

He did not play the way that John played so I tried another

approach.

“Just get on with the bloody story, will you?” I said briskly.

“That works!” he said with a laugh.

It was beginning to dawn on me that Mike liked to play things

straight. He might not make me laugh as much as John, but his

assertive and commanding manner turned me on. With only a

moment‟s hesitation, he continued and finished the story.

“Sally used to be married to Dave‟s brother. Dave‟s brother

used to beat her. You‟ve had this story from John so I‟m not

sure what else to tell you.”

I sat up straight and suddenly the pieces dropped into place.

“Say again?” I asked.

“Sally used to…..”

“It‟s okay – I was being rhetorical!” I said.

There was just a hint of smile on his face.

“What?” I asked.

He gave a gesture to indicate that he did not understand.

“What are you smiling for?” I asked.

“You are so sexy when you raise your voice,” he answered.

“You like it, do you?” I queried.

“Oh, yes. I like strong direct women,” he replied.

“Well, my lad,” I said, gathering words together in my head.

“You are going to like me a lot!”

He relaxed a bit and laughed. I could feel my confidence and

ardour beginning to build.

“So now you know why he and I are not best buddies,” Mike

concluded.

Friends or Lovers

I still did not get it completely. He had helped Sally. So what?

Then the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place and I

instinctively covered my mouth in shock.

“He thinks….,” I started. “He thinks that you…..and Sally.”

“Yes, he thinks I fucked Sally and broke up his brother‟s

marriage.”

“Did you?” I asked. The words came out so fast I had no time

to retract them.

“You don‟t need me to answer that,” he responded.

“No. I don‟t.” I said.

No wonder Dave had a grudge against Mike! Suddenly my

need to tell Mike about Dave‟s e-mail became more urgent. If

Mike and Dave had fallen out once before, there could be more

unpleasantness.

“I want to tell you more,” I said.

“Okay.”

“You may not like it,” I added.

“Still want to hear,” he replied.

And out it all came. I told Mike of Dave‟s wife, her illness,

my fondness for him, that Dave had invited me out after the

CIPD event in Birmingham and that we would be staying in the

hotel together. When I told him the details of the recent e-mail

exchanges, I began to wonder whether I had been completely

blind. Whatever Dave felt when he recruited me, I thought he

was getting ready to make a move on me. What would Dave do

if he found that I was sleeping with Mike?

“Maybe we should deny our relationship?” I suggested.

“He has to know sometime,” Mike replied.

“Just try to look at this from his perspective,” I insisted. “You

and I are at loggerheads. You leave your wife after a big row

Rory Ridley-Duff

with me in the workplace. I find you a company flat to move

into. Then it comes out that we are sleeping together. How

does that look to you? Dave behaved strangely at the pub the

other night. The following morning he didn‟t want to sign the

contract for this flat. Later he and I had our first angry words. I

don‟t want to take the risk, Mike!”

Having felt a bit dim a moment before, I suddenly felt quite

clever.

“What did he say, again?” asked Mike.

I repeated the recent e-mail exchanges with Dave.

“He must have taken your message as encouragement….”

Mike pointed out.

“I didn‟t mean it like that. I was just being polite after the

hasty exit the night before.”

“You? Polite?” he teased again.

I gave him a playful shove and he shoved me back with a

deadpan face. When I did not respond, he gave me another

shove and I realised he wanted to play. So I shoved him off the

sofa, got up and ran away. For the next 10 minutes he chased

me all over the flat until he managed to corner me in the

bathroom. As I backed up against the wall, his strong frame

moved towards me and my screams gave way to giggles, then

my giggles gave way to a low pitched moaning as I suddenly

felt his hand between my legs and his hot breath on my neck.

That was the first of many times we made love there. The next

day Elona decided she wanted to move in and with only a few

days of freedom, Mike and I made the most of our freedom.

After she moved in, we used my flat as a new base. Never in

my life had I enjoyed such passion and intimacy with a man.

Within a month neither of us had any secrets left to tell.

Friends or Lovers

Despite the generation gap, we started to talk extensively about

politics (office and otherwise). I listened to his experiences as a

father, he listened to my memories of childhood. I learnt of his

dreams and fantasies, he learnt of mine. Many joint dreams

were born. The threads of our lives intertwined and bonds were

woven into a fabric so strong that I could not imagine them ever

breaking. If our first night together was the most special

moment of my life, our first month felt like a honeymoon that

would never end. I savoured every second.

Carole and my parents thought I had disappeared off the face

of the earth. John and Sally occasionally dropped in and we

would all go out for a meal. When, towards the end of June, I

turned up at my parent‟s house for Sunday lunch with Mike in

tow, we announced that he would be moving into my flat. Even

as they expressed surprise, they accepted and welcomed this

development and all quietly congratulated me. Privately Mike

and I had discussed that if we enjoyed living together, he might

file for divorce so we could marry. But publicly nobody, not

even John and Sally, knew of our plans.

To call this a “whirlwind romance” does not do it justice. For

sure our relationship took off at quite a pace, but we were never

a lovely-dovey couple. Our conversations were realistic and

grounded, our plans firm and concrete, and our love-making was

varied and passionate. But throughout all this, for all the intense

times we spent together, for all the future plans we mapped out,

for all the commitments we made, the words “I love you” never

passed our lips.

Carole phoned me daily after Mike and I had appeared for

lunch at my parents. I talked to her of the things we had done

together, but never of our future aspirations. At the end of each

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phone call she would say “I‟m really happy for you” and

gradually I began to see what it was that bound she and Chris

together. We talked about her forthcoming wedding and the

preparations. I apologised for not getting more involved but she

assured me that mum was on top of everything. All I needed to

do was to turn up, speech in hand, make everybody laugh and be

beautiful. I broke the news to her that I would have to pass up

the opportunity of shagging the best man.

To my surprise, the rumours at work died quickly and did not

spread further. Dave, fortunately, did not learn of our

relationship and Mike and I managed to keep our contact

low-key and light-hearted. If people knew, there was a

conspiracy of silence. The only person I updated from time to

time was Phil. He, in turn, told me about people that he fancied.

Like true professionals, we remained the very souls of

discretion.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 41

The prospect of going to the CIPD event with Dave was

something that I came to dread. While we still worked together

well on a professional level, our personal relationship had

cooled. Neither of us spoke about the situation with his wife or

his admission that he fantasised about me. Even if he had said it

as a joke, I felt that raising it with him was too risky. In the

back of my mind I wondered whether it was wise to say nothing.

I was conscious that my probationary period was coming to an

end and Dave would decide my future. So far as I could tell,

confirmation was a formality but this new situation meant that I

could no longer take my appointment for granted.

Following the launch of the SHARE experience, I met Sam

and Elaine again (with Dave) to organise the recruitment of

more support staff. Mike, as sales manager for the domestic

market, also met Sam and Elaine regularly to develop marketing

strategies. I would join them for drinks and found that I

particularly enjoyed Elaine‟s company. Her background in

sociology and international business was different to mine, but

there was sufficient common ground to compare perspectives.

As a group, we developed too. John knew Elaine from

academic conferences so all six of us started going out weekly

for meals. The story of how Mike and I got together became

something of a party piece. After much drinking we playfully

acted out the battle-axe and gentle man confronting each other

angrily while an unspoken mutual passion was developing. We

exaggerated, of course, and many side-stories and alternative

plot lines were elaborated.

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Elaine became the first person to learn of my private aspiration

to marry Mike. We would take lunch together and have girly

chats. She had also been a human resources manager before

advancing her education. After obtaining an MBA she took up a

senior management post at the engineering company where Sam

had been working. It was her interest in his engineering, and the

company‟s ignorance of its potential, that spurred their close

relationship. Their close working relationship evolved into a

personal one.

They married secretly and this triggered a hostile reaction from

some board members. They decided to establish a new

company for Sam to continue working on his ideas. For the last

5 years they had developed their product line. It had been a

struggle but the relationship with IC was a breakthrough. This

enabled them to expand their market and leverage in

considerable financial investment. After all their hard work,

they were beginning to achieve security both for themselves and

the company.

On the day of the CIPD conference, I arranged to go with her

to Birmingham beforehand to buy an evening dress. She picked

me up about 10am and we made our way up the motorway.

“So what you going to get?” Elaine asked.

“Not sure. I love sexy outfits, but as I‟m going with Dave I

don‟t want to send out the wrong signals.”

“Get something you can wear for other occasions as well!”

said Elaine.

“I guess. I look good in tight black dresses but perhaps that

would be too risqué.”

“Is there such a thing?” she asked.

Friends or Lovers

“Depends, surely. I could hardly wear something like that to

work!”

She glanced at me and we laughed at the thought.

“Men use their power when it suits them. We shouldn‟t be

embarrassed about using ours,” she answered.

I nodded and she carried on.

“Don‟t know about you love, but I don‟t have millions stashed

away to bring in the punters. But I do have a lovely pair of legs,

great boobs and a sharp brain.”

“Killer combination,” I quipped. “Just ask Erin Brockovich.”

“You better believe it!”

And with our sights set on the shops, lunch, coffee and

chocolate cake, she gave out a loud “Yee-haw!” and put her foot

down on the accelerator as if she was about to drive off the cliff

in Thelma & Louise. Her Porsche 911 accelerated quickly and

my body pressed back into the seat, flushed with shock and

excitement. After a few seconds, she took her foot off the gas

and cruised into Birmingham at 90mph.

I found a lovely black dress, elegant with a cut that was

suggestive without being too daring. It hung at the knee and had

a waist that was gathered with a belt that was covered in ethnic

beads. A matching necklace and earrings completed the vision.

After shopping, we retired for coffee and cake.

“Chocolate delight! They weren‟t kidding were they?” I said

as I tucked away another slice and sipped on my café latte.

“If only men tasted as good!” said Elaine.

“Some of them do,” I quipped.

“You‟ll have to introduce me,” she replied.

She was irrepressible, irresponsible and exuded a freedom than

I‟d never witnessed at close quarters. She reminded me of John.

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I could see why they had become friends and I secretly

wondered if perhaps she was the „other woman‟ to whom he had

once „given in‟. My new circle of friends gradually brought me

out of my shell. I talked more about my thoughts and feelings to

Mike, Elaine and John than to everyone else in the whole of my

life. My sense of well-being grew. I found an emotional

security that reminded me of my early childhood.

We said our farewells and departed to attend to our respective

tasks. The CIPD event went off well. After an opening key

speech, we were split into workgroups for role-play exercises

that covered recent legislative changes. Of particular concern

were provisions regarding temporary and part-time staff. Their

employment rights had been strengthened, but many

organisations still did not grasp the full impact. Various

scenarios were introduced on video, then pairs of people acted

out one-to-one meetings between an employee and personnel

officer. Others made notes and gave feedback on the legality (or

otherwise) of their intended actions.

I sat with Dave during the keynote speech but we were

separated for the group sessions. After a question and answer

panel, and closing comments, we adjourned and were asked to

come back at around 7.30pm for the dinner. Dave and I checked

into the hotel and agreed to meet in the bar about 6.30pm. As I

retired to my room I began to realise that for the first time I

found myself struggling to find things to say to him. Nagging at

the back of my mind was the possibility that he might be

harbouring feelings for me. I showered, pampered myself with

goodies from my overnight bag, then sat in front of the mirror

applying my face.

Friends or Lovers

At 6.30 I made my way down to the bar. Dave was chatting

and laughing with the barman.

“Here she is!” he said. “Doesn‟t she look fabulous?”

A compliment is almost obligatory when a woman presents

herself in a new frock so I acknowledged and dismissed the

remark. Perhaps I should have complimented him too but I

didn‟t.

“What would you like?” asked Dave.

“Thanks, Dave. I‟ll have a rum and black.”

He duly ordered and the barman said he would bring it to our

table. Given the occasion, and the prospect of spending the

whole evening together, I felt I should broach the subject of his

wife.

“How are things at home?” I asked.

“She‟s stable,” he responded.

I expected more than this, but nothing was forthcoming. He

smiled gently at me but it only increased my nervousness.

“Here you are ma‟am,” said the barman as he delivered the

drink. He presented the till slip for Dave to sign.

“I don‟t suppose it matters who signs it,” he said looking at

me.

The barman looked surprised but took the hint and gave me the

bill. I signed it and gave it back to him.

“Thank you, ma‟am!” he said with appropriate emphasis.

“Barman?” I said boldly. He turned to face me again. “You

can call me, Penny! I‟m not the queen.”

“Thank you, Penny!” he said and we both smiled.

Dave looked slightly flustered.

“That was a bit „familiar‟, wasn‟t it? Do you know him?”

“No. I was just being polite.”

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I wondered if we were in for a bad tempered night.

“You shouldn‟t be too familiar with bar staff, Penny.”

“You were,” I answered, immediately recalling that Dave was

laughing with the barman when I entered.

“Just don‟t, Penny,” he said defensively.

“Oh lighten up, Dave,” I said dismissively.

“Don‟t use that tone with me,” he said.

“Dave,” I started, “I don‟t want to fall out with you. But

please don‟t tell me how to behave towards people when I‟m not

at work.”

“You are at work, Penny. You‟re representing the company

here.”

“And I was doing it splendidly, being polite to the hotel staff,”

I said.

“You were flirting with the barman,” he said sternly.

A bubble of rage formed in the pit of my stomach but I

managed to contain it.

“Dave?” I said.

“Yes, Penny?”

“Up yours!” I said, holding my drink aloft.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I felt so awkward that I

got up and went back to my room. I began to panic. That was a

really dumb thing to do with my appraisal only a few weeks

away so I phoned Mike on my mobile. At first he laughed,

which made me all the more cantankerous, but he managed to

calm me down. At the end of the conversation, however, I was

none the wiser whether I should apologise or not. I decided that

it would be stupid not to. First, however, I decided to see if

table places had been set.

Friends or Lovers

In the dining room I met Jules, the conference manager, who

showed me to a private bar and the seating plan for the evening.

It had been turned into a charity event so the 50 participants

were swelled with another 200 people for the dinner. Husbands

and wives joined the delegates and professional bodies had been

invited for the evening speakers and networking opportunities. I

had been allocated a place next to Dave so I asked Jules if I

could sit elsewhere. Using her mobile she called reception and

about ten minutes later a man came through with an amended

seating plan.

“Thank you,” I said, “I really appreciate this.”

“Not too keen on your boss, I take it?” she asked.

“Not at the moment, no,” I answered.

“Glad to help,” she said with a warm smile.

I thanked Jules then went to the private bar to order another

rum and black. With the prospect of a stressful evening

receding, I returned to the main bar.

“Dave?” I asked.

He turned around and acknowledged me, but there was no

smile.

“I‟m sorry for earlier. That was rude of me.”

“Forget it,” he said.

I waited for him to give me an apology in return, but none was

forthcoming. This time I went back to the private bar without

making a show of my feelings. The sea change in our

relationship worried me.

The food was well presented but not especially delicious. The

service and company, however, were excellent. Waiters and

waitresses plied us at regular intervals with wine and aided the

socialisation over dinner. My table included a CEO and his

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wife, a female entrepreneur and her husband, and three other

human resource professionals (two men and a woman). With

four men and women around the table, the conversation was

mixed and lively.

The woman entrepreneur started to talk about one of the

speakers. She heard him once in Scotland. Later they

contracted him to assist in the investigation of a sexual

harassment case. She described him as humorous and charming,

but with a mind and attitude so sharp that you could cut yourself

on it. She found him difficult to work with but praised the way

he helped staff reconcile their differences.

Desserts came and went, coffees were served, and the chatter

was eventually interrupted by a clink of glasses as the Chair

introduced the fundraiser. It was a typical appeal to emotional

sympathies. I felt sickened by the scene of an earnest charity

worker begging for crumbs at the tables of the rich. I wrote a

cheque for £30 – unsure what would be considered an

appropriate amount – but as I was getting dinner for free I

contributed the cost of the meal to the charity. Even as I did it, I

felt no virtue. There must be better ways to help the less

fortunate than this.

The first speaker was reasonable. The subject matter was more

in Dave‟s line, but I did see the pros and cons of entrepreneurial

behaviour amongst employees. While she talked about

side-stepping rules and procedures, the CEO at my table joked

that if anybody tried that in his place, they‟d be out. Controls

were there for a reason, he said, and had to be followed.

I wondered whether he had ever been an accountant.

Our table was a long way from the platform. When the second

speaker stood up, I did not recognise him but there was a touch

Friends or Lovers

of familiarity in his voice. I thought he must be a celebrity off

the TV but annoyingly one of my dinner companions kept

distracting me. The speaker continued.

“Thank you. Thank you very much,” he said. “I hardly

recognise myself in those kind words.”

I asked my dinner companion if we could continue our

conversation later because I was particularly keen to hear this

speaker. He looked offended, but at last I was able to focus on

the speaker‟s words.

“I‟ve been asked to talk about a subject that most of us think

about daily, some of us talk about regularly, but which is rarely

talked about publicly. It is a subject hardly ever discussed in

business books. In my view, it exerts more influence over the

workplace than any other single thing and is the bedrock of

social organisation both at home and at work. I‟m talking, of

course, about sexual attraction and intimacy. Now if you think

I‟ve come here to talk about bonking in the broom

cupboard……”

With most of the audience tipsy, the speaker expected a few

giggles and paused. A few people obliged. Everyone else

stopped chatting and started to listen.

“…..or kissing in the canteen, then you are going to be

disappointed. If you‟ve come here to understand how private

lives impact on work then you are in the right place.”

I noticed that more and more people were sitting up and taking

notice. On the top table was a jug of water. The speaker paused

for a moment and poured himself a glass.

“Always good when they give you a large jug of gin to drink –

always makes the talk more interesting,” he quipped. “If you

see them bringing a second jug, then the chances of me telling

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you a story about bonking in the broom cupboard rises

considerably!”

A slightly larger group laughed at this remark, but one of my

dinner companions just raised their eyebrows and gave a

disapproving look.

“Talking of stories,” he continued, “I have a couple for you

that I hope will prompt interesting discussion in the bars.”

Everybody in the room was now paying attention. He came

across as an above average public speaker.

“Not so long ago I was sitting in an airport lounge and an

attractive woman called Patsy glanced in my direction. When

they called the flight, Patsy joined the queue and edged her way

in front of me.”

I laughed out loud as I recalled the way John and I had met. A

few people on adjacent tables turned their heads to look at me. I

thought it was uncanny the speaker had such a similar

experience.

“Then Patsy did something that most people here will probably

think is a bit bizarre, but which – to me – was not bizarre at all.

She bent down to tie her shoelace……”

My laughter subsided and I began to feel slightly

uncomfortable.

“Nothing strange in that, you might think? Well, it would not

have been strange except for one small detail. Patsy was

wearing shoes that had no shoelaces……”

A ripple of laughter went around the room and the speaker

paused to let the import of the joke linger. As for me, my heart

was pounding as I realised that the speaker was John and that he

was talking about our first meeting.

Friends or Lovers

“What is significant about this story is that Patsy‟s willingness

to give me a bird‟s eye view of her butt was one of several

reasons I decided to sit next to her. Very bold behaviour, I felt,

and not something I was likely to come across every day. We

fell into conversation, swapped e-mail addresses and later met

for lunch. Now we take walks together. She became a close

friend and is now also a professional colleague.”

He paused again.

“She‟s also dating one of my best friends!” he said loudly with

gusto.

His comic timing was excellent and there was a further

smattering of laughter.

“Now what‟s the relevance? Sexual attraction is often the

reason we choose to take an interest in someone. As we work

out the tensions many long and durable friendships are formed.

I was lucky. Patsy liked and welcomed my response, but not

immediately and not without a lot of soul searching about my

intentions towards her. If she had taken offence, she might have

withdrawn, confronted me, argued with me, perhaps even

accused me of sexually harassing her.”

“We are still, even in this modern age, overwhelmingly social

beings. Yes, we come to dinners like this to talk about how to

make more - or lose less - money. We come for the networking

opportunities, the social opening that will start a new business

venture. But I want to suggest to you that there is something

more than that, something deeper, more important.”

He paused and took a sip of his water before continuing.

“Once, a business mentor of mine said to me that money was

not the most important thing to him. To him, the money was a

means and not an end. The money enabled him to feed his

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family, to open doors to social networks he wanted to belong to,

to attract and be in the company of many beautiful women. In

short, he was in business to have fun. „If you‟re not having fun‟

he would say, „sell the business‟. To him, business was

entertainment.”

“So what‟s the key thing here?” asked John. “For him, being

in business meant an emotionally fulfilling life. He did it for the

buzz. For the challenge. For the company. And yes, let‟s admit

it, for the sex. He was, in a way, one of the business world‟s

rock stars, although he liked to avoid the press.”

“Of course, there are many out there….and perhaps even in

here…who will take a dim view of this. Business is about profit-

maximising, about efficiency, about effectiveness and all those

terms that are popular in business schools and board rooms.

There are a few strange people who actually get off on this.

Picture them in your mind: Laddie Lawyer…… Amy

Accountant…… Adam Auditor.”

There was substantial laughter as he recounted these names.

He knew his audience. Human resource staff often battled legal

and financial staff for influence and John cleverly used his

knowledge of workplace tensions to win them over.

“Now, I imagine that you‟re sitting there thinking „not me‟.

I‟m rational, everybody else is emotional. I always do my best

for my boss. I‟m a complete professional – never let myself get

distracted by this stuff. So I‟m going to ask for a bit of audience

participation. Can I have a show of hands, please? How many

of you met your most recent wife, husband, boyfriend or

girlfriend in an organisation? Don‟t just think of your own place

of work. Did you meet in theirs? Was he or she your client?

Were you students together?”

Friends or Lovers

The hands started to rise, at first tentatively. The murmurs

grew as spouses and partners reminded each other of their first

meeting, with the result that more and more hands were raised

until at least three-quarters held them aloft.

“More than usual,” he commented. “We have a horny bunch

in tonight!”

The room rumbled with chatter and laughter as people started

to absorb what had just been illustrated. As the noise died

down, so John continued.

“So let me make one or two comments before I tell you my

second story. Firstly, how is it that most human resource

professionals here tonight met their partner or spouse in a

workplace and yet the profession is being persuaded to support

zero-tolerance policies towards sexual behaviour at work?”

There was less laughter now and he paused to have another

drink. The women entrepreneur opposite looked irritated.

“See what I mean?” she said.

I nodded, but privately I thought John had a point.

“Need a bit more gin for this bit,” John quipped as he drank

some more water.

“More controversially, recent research suggests that research

participants say harassment is very rare, almost unheard of,

during the formative stages of a relationship. Accusations are

made when relationships are breaking down. This raises an

issue. Are we are missing the underlying sexual dynamics that

bring about these accusations. It may be that a man is trying to

break off the relationship rather than form it, or that a woman is

trying to back off a relationship that has aroused her sexual

feelings. When it comes to the law, have politicians created a

rod to break our back?”

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I looked around and saw some people nodding.

“This leads me onto my second story. This also has a lovely

butt in it, but this time it belongs to a man. It involves Ben and

Diane. During Ben‟s induction, Diane told him about the

company annual dinner. Each year they have a big celebration,

and without fail there is some set piece bit of „corporate fun‟.

The year Ben joined, they had a „Butt of the Year‟ competition.

This involved a number of men taking pictures of each others‟

naked bottoms and creating a slide show for the women.”

John smiled. The audience laughed some more.

“Okay, okay – I realise that some of you probably consider this

essential work in the run up to the Christmas party, but this story

has a challenging ending.”

He paused again and took another swig of „gin‟.

“Diane thought one of the directors‟ butts was so sexy that she

described it to Ben during his induction. Diane is a CIPD

qualified member of staff. I looked hard but couldn‟t find that

induction technique in the CIPD manual!” he quipped.

He paused and the audience obliged with more laughter. Then

his tone suddenly became quieter, more measured.

“Yes – it‟s funny, isn‟t it?” he agreed with his audience.

Then he delivered a killer sentence.

“Would it have been funny if I‟d told you that Ben was making

comments to Diane about one of the women director‟s tits?”

The room quickly went quiet. John‟s tone was not critical, but

questioning. He somehow managed to avoid accusing his

audience, but everyone in the room suddenly felt embarrassed

that they had been laughing. In the silence that followed, the

hum of personal reflection lingered in the air.

“Here‟s the rest of the story,” he continued boldly.

Friends or Lovers

“At the Christmas Party, Diane flung her arms around Ben and

playfully put ice cubes down his trousers. He did not mind her

attention and they grew close. They started to go out for drinks

after work. Both were married. Diane confessed that her

marriage was sexless. Ben confessed his wife had been having

an affair.”

“You may think that you know what is coming……,” he

teased.

“Ben‟s marriage collapsed and Diane offered him a place to

sleep. He thanked her but did not accept. She told him

repeatedly that he had „admirers‟. „You won‟t be lonely,‟ she

told him. Ben thanked her and felt reassured. Ben responded

that he liked one or two of the women at work and had asked

one out for a drink.”

“Instead of being pleased for him, Diane got cross and told him

he should not look for love at work. When Ben asked why,

Diane reported his activities to her own manager. She now

claimed that Ben was „womanising‟ and might misuse personnel

records. Ben was questioned for over an hour in a private room

about „inappropriate‟ behaviour. Ben argued that the accusation

was unjustified, hypocritical and sexist. His objections fell on

deaf ears. Ben argued with the company‟s MD.”

John raised his volume a couple of notches to finish the story

“He was fired.”

A few people in the audience gasped.

“So!” he said, “a woman who talked openly about her lust for a

male director during Ben‟s induction, put ice cubes down Ben‟s

trousers at a party, invited Ben to stay at her house, told Ben he

had admirers and then got jealous when Ben admired someone

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else…she only had to make an accusation that Ben might be

behaving inappropriately for his world to quickly fall apart.”

John paused again, but this time he did so for effect.

“That is power,” he said, “a kind of power that we don‟t

acknowledge.”

I thought back over my own experience, at the way the

accusation against Mike has triggered the storm inside IC. We

had weathered it but not without capsizing a few times.

“What can we learn from this?” continued John.

“Firstly, my main point is not that men can also be subject to

sexual harassment or false allegations. That much is obvious

and while it is not discussed much, most enlightened people

realise it.

“My main point is that whenever there is a sexual conflict it is

usually underpinned by a complex intimate relationship. Both

parties play a part. Both parties are responsible. Accusations

often reveal as much about who is hurting as who is being hurt.

HR departments rarely investigate the motive for an accusation,

only the accusation itself. Attention switches immediately to the

accused. The accuser may be given special protection before it

is known whether their accusation is true.

“These are two cases where the underlying dynamics are

known. Most people are like icebergs. Nine tenths of what

might be known is submerged beneath the surface. Workplace

behaviour arises out of our desire for, or our desire to avoid,

intimacy. Those desires, in turn, are affected by what is taking

place in our lives outside work. Our desires are not always

sexual. Maybe we are trying to avoid loneliness. Maybe we are

trying to be accepted. This said, feeling accepted by a sexually

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desirable or successful person is particularly meaningful. It is,

therefore, emotive and triggers disruptive conflicts.

“Two thoughts for you as you retire to the bars. Firstly, if

Patsy had objected when I started to talk to her on the airplane,

would I have been guilty of sexual harassment? Or was her

behaviour, by deliberately being provocative, itself a form of

sexual harassment? Perhaps neither? The situation we have

now is that if she claims to others that I am creating a „hostile

environment‟ for her, regardless of my intent, I could be accused

in the same way as Ben. How would you go about investigating

that to undercover „the truth‟?”

“So, are we destroying our society with zero-tolerance

policies? Are we compromising our ability to take, face and

overcome the everyday risks that underpin stable enduring

relationships? Zero-tolerance approaches assume it is right and

proper to prevent any intimacy that could be interpreted as

sexual. Isn‟t this the most naïve policy in the history of

humankind?

“So, to conclude, I want you to think about how to contribute

to the current debate on equality of opportunity and sexual

harassment. Would it not be better to have a process that allows

each party to tell their story until they find closure? Should we

approach conflicts in a way that allows both parties to learn

about each other, or continue to „name and blame‟ one party?

Are we serious about equality?

“If you are sitting next to your financial director and she or he

is saying „too expensive‟, I ask you to think of the cost of

replacing staff. In Ben‟s case it cost the company over ten

thousand pounds to replace him, enough to pay for over 20 days

of mediation. That ignores the costs of training and lost

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productivity. It ignores whether the replacement is as good at

the job. So, while this is an ethical issue, it is also a financial

one.

“Ladies and Gentlemen - thank you for listening! My name is

John Simons and I am at your service. My business cards and

these two cases are available on the table.”

The audience broke into a round of applause. I did not join in.

Instead, I got up and walked towards the front. When John saw

me, he initially beamed with pleasure, then – as he realised that I

had been in the audience – he started to look apologetic.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked.

“You might have asked,” I said with a smile.

“Such a good story and I never thought that you would ever be

in one of my audiences.”

“And I‟m a case study, am I?”

“An anonymous one, yes!”

“And close friends, eh?”

“You think I‟m being economical with the truth, Penny?”

“I‟ll let you get away with it, just this once,” I said.

Suddenly I felt another person moving up beside me.

“Get away with what?” asked Dave.

My mood changed and John noticed instantly.

“Hello. My name is John.”

“Dave! Good talk, mate. Hope I‟m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all,” said John, turning on the professional charm.

John smiled as we shared the private joke. Dave, however,

was surprisingly astute.

“You know each other a lot better than you are telling me, I

can see.”

“Indeed we do. I did not realise that ……”

Friends or Lovers

Oh God! I prayed that he was not about to say what I though

he was about to say. “….. one of my best friends was in the

audience.”

“One of your best friends!” said Dave. “Well, Penny, you are

a dark horse. Is this the John you mentioned to me? The one

you met on a plane?”

I hesitated. There was little point denying it.

“Yes.”

“And John, is this Patsy?” asked Dave pointedly.

John and I hesitated. Dave laughed.

“So, you don‟t just flirt with barmen, but also strange men in

airports!”

John joined in the conversation again.

“And you don‟t, Dave?” asked John.

“Don‟t what?” asked Dave.

“Don‟t you flirt?” asked John.

“I‟m married!” he said indignantly.

“So am I,” replied John, “but like most adults I still end up in

situations where there is flirting, whether I like it or not. How

else can people establish another person‟s motive?”

Dave was slightly taken aback at these remarks.

“Flirting is dangerous,” said Dave.

“Would you like to have this conversation at the bar so I can

buy you a drink?” asked John.

Dave nodded.

“If you go to the bar and order what you like, I‟ll join you in a

second. Just ask them to charge it to Room 1156 and I‟ll sign

the receipt in a moment.”

“Are you coming, Penny?” asked Dave.

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John glanced in my direction and I realised that he was trying

to get me on my own.

“I‟ll join you in a second, I just want a quick word with John.”

Dave had committed himself now and went off to the bar.

“He‟s hurt. You‟ve got a problem,” said John.

“Tell me about it. It‟s getting worse and worse. We had an

argument earlier this evening.”

“Do you want to talk about it later?” asked John.

“I‟ve chatted to Mike and thought we were through this.”

“I can meet you later if you like?” he asked again.

“Yes, okay.”

John and I made our way to the bar. On the way, he engaged

with people who wanted to talk to him. Were the stories true?

Yes, totally true. Was it not all a bit Freudian? Not really, said

John. Freud thought it all emanated from complexes formed in

childhood experiences. He did not agree with that. However, in

the sense that sexual desires and aspirations underpinned a lot of

adult behaviour, John did agree with Freud. Having negotiated

these questions, we got to the bar and Dave was ready with our

drinks. We found a space to talk.

“You were saying that flirting is dangerous?” remembered

John.

“Always leads to trouble,” said Dave.

“I disagree,” said John boldly. “Flirting is a good way for men

and women to establish the level of intimacy they want in their

relationships. They push and probe to check out how the other

responds. Most people do this in non-threatening ways and it

works most of the time. Many find it fun. It is those who are

inexperienced or shy who are uncomfortable with flirting. I

accept it is a problem for them.”

Friends or Lovers

I was not sure whether John intended to be offensive but he

was coming perilously close. It was almost as if he was

suggesting that Dave was inexperienced and shy.

“But it causes so much disagreement,” said Dave.

“Only if people are insensitive to each other,” answered John.

“Insensitive?” I asked.

“Perhaps that‟s not a good word,” said John.

“Flirting causes misunderstandings,” insisted Dave. “I‟ve had

to deal with many problems caused by flirting.”

“I don‟t doubt it,” said John, “but you won‟t notice all the

problems that are solved by it. They never land on your desk.”

“Don‟t buy it, mate. Too much experience,” said Dave

arrogantly.

“What about you, Penny?” said John. “You‟re a good flirt!”

I wanted John to stop because his comments could deepen my

problems.

“I can‟t say that flirting has ever landed me in deep water at

work, but it has certainly landed others…” I responded.

I added a rider as a warning shot, “…as well you know!”

John picked up my allusion and acknowledged my concern.

Dave, however, also picked up that some covert message was

passing between us.

“Sounds like you‟ve discussed this before,” commented Dave.

“Not directly,” answered John, “but I think we will later,” he

added.

“Oh! Are you two getting together?” asked Dave.

The sarcasm was back and I couldn‟t help fuelling the

situation.

“Yes we are. By the way, John, how is Sally?”

“Sally?” asked Dave, as John proceeded to respond.

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“Oh she‟s great. We‟re enjoying ourselves - I wish I could

stay longer but I‟m needed back at home.”

“Sally at work? Do you know Sally?”

“Yes – known her for years,” answered John.

“She never mentioned you to me,” replied Dave.

“John is staying at Sally‟s while he works for us. Didn‟t you

know?” I said.

“No,” said Dave. “Small world, isn‟t it?” he added, totally

engaged by this discovery.

“By the way, Penny,” asked John. “Do you and Mike want to

come over for dinner on Sunday night?”

My blood ran cold. By asking John about Sally it invited John

to ask me about Mike. Before I could answer, Dave intervened.

“You and Mike?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And when did this happen?” he asked, piecing things together

in his head.

“Just recently – hardly got used to the idea myself!” I said

pretending joy while my mind was turning to clay.

“Before or after you arranged the flat for him?” Dave asked

with disdain.

John looked at me, slightly embarrassed and mouthed the word

„sorry‟.

“After!” I said firmly.

“Just as well,” said Dave cynically.

John made another intervention.

“Well!” he started. “Perhaps the two of you could explain to

me what the fuck is going on?”

Both Dave and I looked at John with a start.

“What?” said Dave.

Friends or Lovers

“It‟s a simple question,” responded John. “The two of you are

antagonising each other. Why?”

“It‟s complicated,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Not complicated at all,” said Dave. “I‟m fed up working with

this tart.”

Dave turned and left before I could answer. I was about to go

after him and make him apologise but John stopped me.

“I‟d like to fry his arse!” I shouted. A few people near us

picked up my tone and turned to look.

“There are better ways to do it, Penny!” said John trying to

calm me down.

“That…..that…..pig is going to do my appraisal in three

weeks!”

“Then you‟ve got to use this,” he said pointing at my head, “as

well as this,” he said with his hand on his heart.

“Fuck him! Wanker!”

“I hope so,” quipped John, “because if he‟s not we really have

a problem.”

It took me a moment to get the joke.

“Why don‟t we circulate for a bit and then slip out? If Dave

comes anywhere near you, then find me.”

“My knight in shining armour?” I queried.

“No. If he starts a fight with you, I want to be there to watch

you beat the shit out of him!”

“And you the mediator?” I asked, my sense of humour

returning.

“Only as a first resort!” he responded.

John moved closer and whispered in my ear.

“Be careful. You‟ve not been employed for a year yet.”

“Shit! You‟re right.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“You‟ll need friends for this one, Penny. How‟s Mike going to

take this?” he asked.

“I‟ll call him later. I want to go home.”

“I‟d take you – but I‟ve been drinking gin all evening…..” he

joked.

“Damn,” I said before I saw his grin.

“I‟m probably the only sober person in the room,” he

corrected. I never drink before a talk so if you want to go home,

I can take you.”

“Thank you. You‟re a sweetie.”

The rest of the evening passed off without any more incidents.

About an hour later, John and I took a cab to a quiet pub and I

told him about Dave‟s wife, the launch evening, Dave‟s e-mail

and my conversations with Mike. I could see the concern

growing on his face. He called Elaine and Sam, invited them for

dinner then insisted that I come with Mike. He said that he

wanted to talk “strategy”. When I asked why, he cryptically

replied that „every good soldier needed the support of his unit‟.

I told him of my wish to marry Mike. When he heard this, he

grabbed me and hugged me for what seemed like an age. When

he let go, I noticed that his eyes were filled with tears. I told

him not be such a soppy idiot.

As days go, today had not been a good one. When I set out

this morning I was full of the joys of spring, but now I was

battling to save my job.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 42

I was glad to get home to Mike. When I told him what had

happened, he was matter of fact and kept reassuring me that I

had truth on my side. Given what I‟d learnt from the conflict

between Mike and Elona, however, I was less confident. If, as

John had suggested, we can only see what we are looking for,

then I was up shit creek without a paddle. Dave would not be

looking for evidence of my innocence, only evidence of my

guilt. And what was it that I was guilty of? Most of his attacks

were about my flirting. Hard as it was to admit, I was now

experiencing things from the other side.

Two months earlier, I had been judgemental about Mike‟s

motives. Now it was Dave who was being judgemental about

me. I began to wonder whether perhaps I might have done

things differently, or left Mike and Elona to sort out their own

problems. The law required me to investigate, however. In the

past, I had been convinced that sexual harassment laws were

progressive, but now I was not so sure. It was bad enough that I

had intruded into a number of delicate personal relationships,

but now it was the other way around I started to experience how

the intrusions feel on the receiving end, and the frustration of

having to deal with others‟ unstated agendas. How could others

possibly know or understand what had gone on? How could I

possibly explain the complexity of this situation so that another

person could understand it?

The world not only looked more complex but it also made

more sense. Not only had I misjudged Mike, but I now realised

that my attitude had been coloured both by the hurt I felt in the

past and my attraction to him. It may not only have been my

Rory Ridley-Duff

judgement that was at fault, but perhaps my values as well. I

had created an imaginary world in which men and women

should behave one way at work and another way outside work.

Not everybody saw the distinctions as I did, or felt they should

be enforced.

I remember once seeing the film About a Boy. The main

character Will tried to live an „island‟ existence but gave in to

the attention of a lonely 12-year-old boy. I started to see myself

as a female version of Will. I had my island existence at work,

rather than at home. I protected myself with professional ethics

and personal boundaries to create a haven for corporate values.

I was „independent‟ and „efficient‟. I was also emotionally

disconnected and dysfunctional.

Just like Will, however, others intruded into my world. Firstly,

John pierced my armour. Later, Mike did the same, and most

recently Elaine. Elona has, to some extent, and Phil has also

made some inroads. I was coming to a realisation that these

bonds not only reached deep into my personal life, but were also

contributing to better decisions about people in the workplace.

Mike and I had a quiet day. Unlike John, he had no wish to

talk “strategy”. Instead he just savoured the conversation we

had. Mike and John were different. John was the pragmatic

politician, Mike the stubborn idealist. Together they were a

formidable combination, searching for “truth” and “justice” and

then working out how to make it happen. They rarely saw eye-

to-eye, but every conversation made me question my life a little

bit more.

On Sunday we went for a walk. I retraced the route I took with

John around Warwick castle and we ended up at the same Italian

restaurant. In my mind, I did this not only to share treasured

Friends or Lovers

memories with Mike, but as a tribute to John. When I look

back, my change of heart, my coming out of myself started on

that day, from the moment I faced-down my fear and shared my

most private feelings.

“I brought John here a couple of months ago,” I said.

“Nice for him,” responded Mike.

He never used five words where three would do.

“And for me,” I said.

“And now for me,” he replied with a straight face.

That was another difference between them. With John, his

emotions always came out as he spoke, but with Mike you had

to dig for them.

“Do you have any special places? Places you went with your

wife?” I asked.

“A few,” he said.

“Would you take me to them?”

“I‟d rather find new places,” he answered.

I smiled and said that would be nice.

“You don‟t talk about the past, Mike,” I commented.

“What would be solved by talking about it?” he responded.

“I‟m just interested.”

“What would you like to know?”

I suddenly realised that it was not so much his past that I was

interested in, but any remaining attachments that might affect

our future together.

“You,” I said.

“You have me. Lock, stock and barrel.”

“Yes, in body. But I also want to know the person in here!” I

said, pointing to his head.

“You might be disappointed,” he replied.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Haven‟t been so far,” I said with a grin.

“That‟s because you‟ve only microscopically examined my

body!” he joked.

There was little point holding back now I had started.

“I guess I‟m curious how you feel about your marriage.”

He stopped and turned to me, then held me in his arms and

kissed me. While it was nice to have his attention, he had also

evaded the question.

“You were very committed to her……”

Suddenly I stopped. His silence on the issue of his wife

troubled me. While we had made plans – and I kept telling

myself that I should take comfort from them – it worried me that

he may not truly be over her.

“I prefer not to think about it,” he replied.

“I guess,” I responded.

Even though I did not push him, I realised that I was starting to

have doubts about his commitment. Strangely, I felt

unconcerned. No matter what happened in the future, nothing

could take away the bliss that I was enjoying right now. I would

have these memories forever.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 43

“He‟s not going to bring that up!” asserted John, getting quite

heated.

“But that‟s what pisses him off – surely he‟ll raise it?” I

argued.

We had been discussing my situation at work for nearly half an

hour over after-dinner coffee. John was trying to persuade

everyone that Dave was going to block my appointment, but

most of the others would not believe him.

“But Penny is brilliant at her job – aren‟t you, Penny?” said

Sam, who probably knew the least about all the cock ups I had

made.

“Thank you, Sam. But John is right about Dave. He‟s pissed

off with me.”

“But you said that even Harry thought you were doing a good

job. It was Dave who gave him this impression.”

Mike joined in the “strategy” discussion and kept coming back

to what people had said about my work. He thought the

company would be crazy to sack me. I knew he was biased, but

it was good to have his support.

“How long have you been there, Mike?” asked John.

“Nearly 6 years,” he answered.

“Now look at this from Harry‟s point of view. Is he going to

believe someone he‟s worked with closely for 6 years or a

probationer that he‟s met just once or twice?” asked John.

“He‟s going to look at the truth, surely?” responded Mike.

“He‟ll see through Dave, won‟t he?”

Rory Ridley-Duff

John gave Mike a dismissive look, showing considerable

irritation. Elaine, who had been listening more than talking,

now joined the conversation.

“Let‟s assume for a moment that John is right,” she started.

“Let‟s assume that Dave is going to look for a way to get Penny

out. He‟s under no obligation to keep her on. He does not even

have to give her a proper reason. The only thing Dave has to

fear is Harry‟s reaction. I concur with John. If there is a

conflict, he‟ll control what Harry hears. It‟s not what‟s going to

happen, but what we are going to do about it.”

Everyone around the table stopped for a moment to consider

her remarks. I noticed John smile at Elaine and she raised her

glass to him.

“That‟s right,” said John enthusiastically. “If I‟m wrong then

we have nothing to worry about. But if I‟m right then we need

to ensure that Dave does not control what Harry is hearing.”

“And also give Dave a few worries of his own!” added Elaine.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“What do you mean?” asked Sam.

Elaine had talked to me about some of the corporate battles

that she‟d been in, the subtle political pressures and pragmatic

alliances that work behind the scenes. I began to catch her drift.

“You‟re not suggesting we get involved?” queried Sam.

“I certainly am,” said Elaine. “We‟ve invested a huge amount

in this partnership. If Dave wants to fuck it up because he can‟t

deal with Penny‟s rejection then I want to apply some pressure.”

“But isn‟t this between Penny and Dave?” asked Sam.

“No. If he sacks Penny, then I‟m going to kick his arse – it

will affect my working relationship with him!” she said

pointedly. “And how is Mike going to be able to work when

Friends or Lovers

Dave sacks his future wife. This isn‟t just about our friends,

Sam, this is about our company‟s well-being. Mike‟s our sales

manager. Dave‟s the Director of Business Development. Can‟t

you see the threat?”

Since I had told both Elaine and John about my marital

aspirations it had been common knowledge within the group.

However, Mike was not aware that I‟d talked to the others and

he shot me a quick glance then cast his eyes down at the table.

“We all have an interest!” said Elaine. “You too, Sally!”

Sally had remained fairly quiet throughout.

“I‟m keeping out of this,” she said.

“You‟d stand by while Dave shits on Mike?” asked John.

I wondered for a moment whether Sally might secretly want

me off the scene to open the way to Mike again. Since we‟d

become a couple, I‟d taken over his life and he saw her much

less. With John returning home in a couple of weeks she might

start to miss Mike‟s company.

“It‟s not that,” she said. “I don‟t have a way of influencing

things the way you do.”

“Okay, Sal. Perhaps you‟re right!” responded John. “But you

can influence things on the ground.”

“On the ground?” she asked.

“Stuff like this doesn‟t stay secret. If your colleagues talk

about it, you can put them straight!”

“And have Dave on my back?” she asked.

“So little confidence!” complained Elaine.

I could understand Sally‟s fear. Elaine had both political and

financial independence whereas Sally‟s life was more

precarious. She was also in a line management situation with

Dave. Only Mike stood between her and Dave. If Mike‟s

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position was threatened then Dave would be able to exact

personal revenge on Sally.

“Sal has to be careful,” said Mike.

Elaine, I realised, did not understand the complex background

and network of relationships involving Dave, Mike and Sally. I

made a mental note to update her.

The debate continued over more bottles of wine. Various

scenarios and plans were hatched, debated and discarded. By

the time Mike and I left, we had some idea of what to do if Dave

tried to block my appointment and there was talk of a “last

resort” action plan if he succeeded. It was reassuring that my

friends took such a keen interest in protecting my future, but

they were protecting theirs at the same time. In fact, as we

talked, I realised that it was not so much that they were

protecting me, or protecting themselves, as protecting the group.

We all wanted to work and live together and this guided our

discussions.

My security came from the knowledge that there was no

shortage of organisations seeking HR professionals. My mind,

therefore, was not over worried regardless of the outcome of my

appraisal. I focussed more on Mike‟s reaction to Elaine‟s

comment about our marriage plans. He had been much quieter

after her comment. I did not have to wait long. As soon as the

car sped away from Sally‟s house, Mike opened up.

“We have to talk,” he said.

“Yes, we do,” I replied. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“Not exactly,” he replied.

“What then?” I enquired.

“I‟m much older than you, Penny!”

“So what?”

Friends or Lovers

“What if you want children?” he asked.

“I don‟t want them. You know that,” I answered.

“You don‟t now. But what if you change your mind? What if

you accidentally get pregnant?”

“I don‟t know!” I answered.

“I had a friend once who „didn‟t want children‟ until she got

pregnant.”

“What‟re you saying?”

“I‟m saying that I know for sure that I don‟t want children.”

“How can you know that?”

“My wife got pregnant a few years ago and I was completely

opposed.”

Despite what I had told him previously, I actually felt a pang

of disappointment that he did not want children with me. Did I

want to give up the choice?

“Tell me about your friend.” I asked.

“She was successful – like you. She had a good career, a

regular boyfriend who she lived with. She didn‟t want children

until – in her mid-thirties - she accidentally got pregnant. Once

she faced a real choice her feelings started to change. And who

could blame her?” he asked.

“How do you mean?” I said.

“Well, it dawned on her this might be her only chance to be a

mother. Did she want to miss that chance?”

“I have thought about this, Mike. I don‟t want children.”

“But have you ever been pregnant, Penny?”

When he asked that question, the argument began to affect me.

I paused trying to imagine what it would be like to have a child

growing inside me. When I considered the question in the

abstract I was sure of my feelings, but when I asked myself how

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I would feel aborting Mike’s child it affected me differently.

Could I do that?

“No, I haven‟t,” I finally answered.

“What will happen if you get pregnant and I don‟t want it?”

His questions were beginning to deeply unsettle me and I

started to feel emotional.

“I can‟t say, Mike!”

“That‟s what worries me,” he continued. “It could tear us

apart. If you want a child and I don‟t, our relationship won‟t

survive.”

“But don‟t you love me?”

He smiled broadly.

“Yes – but I don‟t want to be a dad in my 70s. I really don‟t.”

“What did your friend do?”

“She had the child. The relationship with her boyfriend broke

up soon after. Now they hate each other with a vengeance.

They both feel the other betrayed them. She thought he‟d

change when the child was born. He never forgave her for

ignoring his feelings. She never forgave him for leaving.”

“So what‟re you saying? You want to break up?”

“No, no, no! I want to treasure this for as long as possible and

that means being realistic. Our relationship probably won‟t

survive the birth of a child. Is it a good idea to marry?”

I did not respond.

“I‟ll live with you – but if you want children then I‟m going to

bow out so you can fulfil your dream. I can‟t stand in the way

of that.”

I pondered this strange proposal. When I was young I

imagined that all serious relationships operated on the basis of

unending commitment. I was not sure what to think.

Friends or Lovers

“Tell you what,” he continued again. “If you reach the

menopause and we‟re still together, I‟ll marry you!”

I gave a short chuckle. Romantic this was not, but that was

Mike through and through.

“Okay. I‟ll think about it.”

And with that, we arrived home, went into the kitchen and

made two cups of cocoa. We chatted more in front of the TV

and caught a late night film, then went upstairs. For the first

time since we‟d started sharing a bed we did not make love

before going to sleep. Even though we‟d talked about the

possibility of breaking up, this was the clearest indication I‟d

had that we were going to have a long-term relationship.

Moments later I felt one of his arms around me as he kissed my

neck and said “goodnight”. The future was still full of

possibilities.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 44

Elona‟s move into the flat with Mike was problematic at first. I

dropped in a couple of times to check how things were. As part

of his professional development, I asked Phil to make some

visits to see how she was progressing. Normally we would not

visit so much, but given her precarious state, I felt we should

visit daily. It took two weeks for her to feel strong enough to

return to work. When she did, my professional worries receded.

When I had been at her parents‟ shop and heard her torrent of

abuse, she accused me of bullying her. As a result, I decided to

visit her when Mike went out with his drinking pals. We started

to have chats in the evening at home and at work during lunch

breaks. I was trying to build her confidence, not just to learn

about her, but also to learn about myself. Was I a bully? Mike

sometimes joked that I could be, a by-product of my strength of

character. He had not seen me when I felt weak and feeble (the

way John had seen me). I told him I was not always strong but

he would not believe it.

Elona, on the other hand, turned out to be strong in ways I‟d

not realised. We talked about her upbringing. There was no

weekend in her family, just a Sunday and Wednesday afternoon

when the shop closed. Her parents were committed Christians

and they arranged for her aunt to take her to Sunday school each

week. Brownies and Guides followed and she talked of the

many skills she had developed, but also the scriptures and

morality that affected her freedom.

Even as a grown up, her parents disapproved of her drinking in

pubs and when the situation erupted at work they felt deeply

ashamed. Instead of showing sympathy, they chided her for

Friends or Lovers

getting mixed up with a “bad crowd”. They would tell her that

in the „devil‟ world of „Godless‟ people, people pursued each

other for sex and treated each other disrespectfully. I listened as

much as I could, judged as little as I could, and avoided the

temptation to get angry with either her or her parents. Instead, I

started to wonder how she had turned out so „normal‟ despite

her upbringing.

My parents had been liberal in their attitudes, especially my

father. Elona‟s father was protective and would never let her go

to parties. Both my father and mother allowed me to have male

friends, to take them up to my room, play music, chat and talk.

Sometimes I would get keen on a boy and still my parents would

not interfere, although my mother would tell me what I should

and should not do. More than once that led to us having a fight.

Even so, my voice was heard and sex talk was commonplace in

our house.

If I had a boy with me they would knock on my bedroom door.

My room was a private space to do as I pleased. Elona, on the

other hand, was not allowed to bring boys into the house without

the permission of her father - upstairs was strictly out of bounds

even after she reached the age of 18. They did not even let her

take girlfriends upstairs. When I asked her how she got to know

boys, she simply said that she had not been able to. Private

conversations with boys were not allowed in her house – one or

other parent had to be present.

Attitudes to sex – or more accurately, those of our parents -

could not have been more different. I can still remember my

parents telling me on my 16th

birthday that if I wanted boys to

stay over they would be allowed to sleep with me if I wished. I

remember only mild embarrassment at their openness, and

Rory Ridley-Duff

confessed to them that sometimes I had sneaked a boyfriend into

my room in the middle of the night. They admitted that they

knew but chose not to say anything. We laughed as stories came

out of hiding and got aired for the first time. I remember feeling

grateful, rather than relieved, at their attitude.

Elona, on the other hand felt embarrassed if her parents even

hinted at sex. Even at work, she would walk away if she heard

crude conversations. Some women deliberately excluded her.

Others picked on her and ridiculed her prudishness. But in

talking to me, she gradually opened up and admitted that she

had been buying romance novels for years. Privately she lusted

after the kind of life that was described in them but never

imagined she could ever be part of it. She fantasised about this

other world, this strange morality where people could express

themselves freely. When the young lads at work invited her to

the pub, and showed interest in her, she was bursting with

curiosity.

There was something tragic in hearing her story. She was a

young woman trying to navigate the minefield of courtship

armed only with knowledge from romance novels. She

imagined bold heroines aggressively seducing their prey, or

meek wallflowers schooled in the art of attracting „real‟ men.

When Nathan took a shine to her, he triggered all the feelings

she was harbouring. When he rebuffed her, she felt bitter,

betrayed and misled.

I tried to reassure her that experience had to be gained first

hand. You could not rely on what was written in books. As I

talked, it was as if I was also talking to myself. I shared with

her my boldest adventures. While I had no inhibitions about my

body, when it came to my mind, thoughts and feelings I was

Friends or Lovers

even more inhibited than Elona. Through her candid

confessions to me, I found yet another avenue to release the pain

and hurt of the past. Before I realised it, I was learning again

from someone years my junior, and our friendship gave her a

way to compare her fantasy world to the reality of my life.

As for Mike, he gradually opened up about his marriage and I

learnt that his kids were the principle reason he had remained for

so long. They mattered to him and he felt the pleasures that

came from fatherhood and family life outweighed any problems

in his relationship with his wife. He did admit too that, despite

the problems, he found his wife attractive and their

argumentative relationship spiced up their sex life. But since the

fall out over Sally he had returned home only to be with his

children. His wife never forgave him for giving financial

support to another woman. Mike joked that if he had lied and

said it was „just sex‟ his marriage might have survived. It was

the financial betrayal that killed it.

I switched the conversation back to Elona.

“You are good for her, you know!” I told him. “If she‟d had a

father like you, she might have grown up very differently.”

“And a mother like you, perhaps?” he retorted.

A mother like me! At hearing those words, I felt a shudder.

His comment started a chain of thoughts that still haunts me. I

started to get a sense of just how important parents are and the

huge responsibility they bear. Was my hostility to motherhood

another way of avoiding responsibility? These questions

troubled me.

As I watched Mike and learnt about each new layer of his

character, I found new depths in myself. I started to realise new

things that I had been missing – that the ephemeral materialism

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of corporate life, the transient consumerism pressed on us by the

media, was not important. I found that there was nothing more

fascinating or more pleasurable than getting to know people

well. Corporate life was not a reason for being, it was a means.

It was a setting in which our lives unravelled, but was not life

itself. The media was not reality, it was a place where vanity

ran amok, where those obsessed with self-importance told us

how to live our lives. Their stories – which had for two decades

been a source of entertainment and amusement to me – started to

lose their standing. In their place, conversations with real

people flourished to the point that my television became just

another piece of furniture.

I cast my mind over my life with my mother and father.

Before the arguments of my teenage years, my mother told me

stories. I had loved Scooby Doo and rather than watch videos

again and again, she would make up new adventures on the spur

of the moment. In them, she and I would join the gang and

solve our own mysteries.

Perhaps that is what spurred me to write this story. Perhaps

my own mother encouraged this creative streak in me,

something that my father‟s pragmatism and liberalism also

shaped. For me, setting out my life on paper became part of my

liberation. The world of parenthood took on a new fascination.

No longer could I ignore how the crazy complicated mess that

Elona and I had created at work had its foundation in our family

histories. That spurred me to take greater interest in how I came

to be who I am. And when Mike suggested I would make a

good mother the urge to be a parent grew stronger and stronger.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 45

Six weeks after Elona moved in with Mike, something happened

that transformed her life. Her excitement was so great that she

could not contain it. The moment I arrived at her flat she

screeched at me to come and see something.

“Penny! Penny! Come here, come on, come here!”

I hastily hung up my jacket, pleaded with Elona to let me go to

the loo first. When I emerged, she was waiting on the sofa

clutching something in her hand. Her eyes were wide open and

her face was so animated that I thought she would burst a blood

vessel.

“What‟s happened?” I asked. “Have you won the lottery?”

“Better than that,” she answered.

“Well, come on then. Show me!”

Inside her sweaty palm was her mobile phone. She open the

lid, pressed “menu”, then “messages”, then “inbox”. For a

couple of seconds a fancy graphic showed a pile of papers being

sorted. Down the list I could see messages from her old

boyfriend, but at the top was a phone number.

“Who is that from?” I asked.

Elona excitedly pressed a green button and the message

appeared.

M and P tell me u r recovering. Wud u like drink with mates

after work?

Phil x

“Better than the lottery?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in

wonder.

“Well, it‟s good isn‟t it. I mean he must……he must like me!”

Rory Ridley-Duff

I didn‟t know how to break the news that this may be kindness,

or an attempt to help her mix in with people at work. It was

„good‟, however. I mentally got ready to nail Phil when I saw

him next morning. He had mentioned Elona, but had his eye on

others as well.

“Maybe you shouldn‟t read too much into it,” I commented.

“But it‟s a drink invitation! He‟s asking me out.”

My heart sank. It may be that Phil was asking her out, but then

again it may not and I felt that it would be irresponsible not to

prepare her for the possibility.

“Elona, love! Look at me,” I said as I took her hands and our

eyes locked.

She duly obliged.

“When a man asks you for a drink, it does not always mean

that he‟s asking you to be his girlfriend. He may be interested in

that. But he may just want to be your friend…..”

“But my Dad said…..”

“Forget your Dad,” I interrupted. “I have a friend called John

and when he first asked me for a drink I thought that perhaps he

was trying to ask me out…..”

“You just want to spoil my dreams!” she interrupted, starting

to look a bit downcast.

“Dream all you like, my love. Pretend he‟s your fantasy hero,

but remember that this may be your wish but not his.”

“What about John?” she continued.

“I was excited. Very excited. Secretly I thought about him a

lot, but when I was with him I took nothing for granted. You‟ve

met him?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “Everyone talks about him at work,

especially after he did that workshop about sexism in the army.”

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“Have you replied to this?” I asked, returning to the question in

hand.

“No! I was waiting for you. I don‟t want to appear too

forward.”

“Good. But you don‟t want him thinking you‟re not interested

either?” I replied.

“But I don‟t know what to say! Could you…?”

“Could I what?”

“Could you reply?”

I laughed. The thought of me flirting by mobile with Phil

while he thought he was talking to Elona tickled me. I saw that

she looked slightly hurt by my mirth so I immediately

apologised and gave it some thought. Would it be so bad?

“I can‟t have a text conversation with him,” I said.

“Why not?” she asked.

My heart went out to her. She so wanted to get this one right.

“I think it would be better if it all came from you,” I said

finally.

“Just start me off, Pen,” she said imploringly. “Just send the

first few messages then I‟ll take over.”

I thought about this. Perhaps Phil would never know the

difference.

“How d‟you want to play it then?” I replied, giving in to her.

She jumped on her seat and punched the air with her fist.

She‟d been planning this all day. I gave her a school-ma‟am

grin.

“You‟re hot for him, right?”

“You‟re the best! First impressions, eh? I want him to know

I‟m interested – I mean really interested.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

I thought for a second. We didn‟t want to be tacky or crude. I

knew Phil could be shy, but also that he had a quiet confidence.

How could we use that?

“Okay! Give me the phone,” I said.

I selected „reply‟ and typed away carefully. I showed the

message to Elona and she kept nodding enthusiastically. Then

she broke into laughter as I added the last two words.

“D‟you think that‟s too risqué?” I asked her.

“Depends!” she replied.

“On what?” I asked.

“On whether I care about frightening him off!”

I‟d assumed that she‟d be crushed if he turned her down so I

was confused by her comment.

“Don‟t you care?”

“A bit, I guess. But it‟s so exciting, isn‟t it?” she replied. “I

want to have some fun!”

I suddenly felt as if, despite all our conversations, I hardly

knew her. Could she change that much in a few weeks?

“You can get hurt, you know?” I answered.

“Never stopped you!” she said, in a matter of fact way.

“No, I guess it didn‟t!”

“Penny?”

I looked up at her and she continued to speak.

“Do you have any idea how much I admire you?”

“What! Admire me?” I said, in response.

I sat for a second wondering why she would admire me. We

were so different.

“I‟m flattered. Thank you!” I said, wondering if she was

drunk.

She took my free hand with both of hers.

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“You‟re my heroine!” she said.

“Oh, Elona! I‟m nothing of the sort. I‟ve pissed around and

messed things up big time. I can be crabby and unreasonable,

bitchy, emotional, selfish, mean and nasty……”

I started to run out of words so Elona decided to take over.

“…..and kind and thoughtful, and sexy and vivacious, and

strong and fair……”

I shuddered at the thought that someone would use me as a role

model.

“But most of all,” she continued, “you‟re a natural.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you live your life without any fear.”

“I wish! Seriously, Elona, you only see what‟s on the outside.

Inside I have doubts just like you. Sometimes I‟m miserable,

lonely and wretched...”

She suddenly got cross with me.

“What are you talking about? You‟ve done so much with your

life. Been places, travelled, done things, studied, got a good

career and now a fantastic man. From where I‟m sitting, you

know how to live!”

She said this with such force that I didn‟t know what to say.

Inside I knew I was no better and no stronger than she was. I‟d

not had to overcome the things she had lived through, or suffer

the disappointments she had faced. What possible claim could I

have to a life better than hers? And yet, she wanted me as her

role model. It was not something that I felt I could refuse.

“Elona, that‟s such a sweet thing for you to say. I‟m really

touched.”

She glanced at the phone.

“Are we going to send that, then?”

Rory Ridley-Duff

I looked at the message once more and read it out loud.

“Accept. What outfit wld u like me 2 wear for u, sexy?”

Elona took the phone out of my hand and pressed the green

button.

“Too late for second thoughts now,” I said.

A moment later, her mobile signalled the arrival of new mail

so we excitedly opened her inbox. Elona held it up and read it

out loud.

“Wot u have in mind? P xxxx”

“Look! Look!” shrieked Elona. “He‟s added four kisses.”

“Okay, girl. He‟s taking the bait. Let‟s reel him in,” I said

confidently.

Elona handed me the phone again and I typed away. When I

finished, I looked up at her.

“This is the last one I send, okay? After this you‟re on your

own!”

Elona nodded. She read the message to herself and cackled

again. We were like two schoolgirls swapping messages in class

with a boy. She pressed the green button and away it went. In

an instant, she read Phil‟s reply out loud while jumping up and

down.

“Skn-tite and sexy? Wow! Looking 4wrd to seeing you in

it…and out of it….. Call right now!”

I got up and went to get my coat.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“You two should be alone, I think.”

“But Penny?”

“Trust me, Ellie. This is between you and him.”

She looked slightly confused.

“But tomorrow,” I said. “I want all the gory details, okay?”

Friends or Lovers

She grinned broadly.

“Okay, piss off then and see if I care!” she said.

If I had only heard her words I might have been offended, but

the excitement and joy that filled her whole body was matched

only by the size and breadth of the smile she beamed. With my

coat on, I walked over and gave her a big hug.

“Thank you!” she said.

“You‟re welcome,” I replied.

As she dialled the number and let it ring, I turned and walked

out of the flat. In the distance the sound of an excited young

woman could be made out amidst much laughter and giggling.

Elona had come alive – she was, as she put it, ready to learn

„how to live‟. As I walked down a flight of stairs into the car

park, I realised that this was the first time I‟d ever been

someone‟s heroine. Even as I contemplated my own heroes and

heroines – Mike, Elaine and John – the extent of my impact on

Elona was beginning to dawn on me. She had seen me stand up

for her against men she felt had hurt her. Even as I chided

myself for my judgement, I realised that perhaps this mattered

less to her than the example I had set. In her eyes, I had

challenged the behaviour of others and shown no fear. She

could not see what was going on inside me, only the confidence

and bluster that erupted when I was in the grip of moral

indignation. I would have to talk to her about that. Some other

time.

Perhaps I was able to show her that you could be a woman in

your own right, with your own thoughts and feelings, able to

make your own judgements – even if sometimes they turn out to

be flawed and wrong. For me, I had taken from the experience

that I had to be more cautious and respectful of others. She was

Rory Ridley-Duff

setting out on a bumpy road – of that I had no doubt – but after

several weeks of pain and years of loneliness it was a moment of

unfettered joy. She grasped her future with both hands and held

on firmly.

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 46

Mike and I had a quiet evening at my flat watching a DVD. At

around 10pm the phone rang. It was Elona again, laughing and

shouting that she needed a wage rise.

“Why?” I asked. “Not just booked a holiday with Phil, have

you?”

“I talked so much I ran out of credit. Need a raise to keep my

mobile phone topped up.”

“Then how come you are talking to me now?”

I heard her giggle, and then heard something crash in the

background.

“What was that? Is there someone with you?”

“Maybe,” she said coyly.

“Faaannnnntttttaaaassssttttiiiiccccc!” I shouted, and Mike

looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Now don‟t rush things. Take things slowly,” I started to say.

“I don‟t think „slowly‟ is in his vocabulary, Pen!”

“Are you okay?”

“I‟m on cloud nine! Thank you so much.”

“I did nothing, really.”

Mike got up and walked over to me and I felt his arms move

around my stomach. He fondled me gently as I talked some

more. Gradually, one of his hands edged up inside my blouse

and started to fondle my breasts while the other stroked my leg,

then moved underneath my skirt and played with the elastic of

my pants.

“I‟ve got to go now, Ellie!” I said.

“Why?”

“Because I won‟t be able to talk soon!”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“Why? What‟s wrong?”

“Nothing at all – it is just that right at this moment there is

someone‟s hand gently playing with my…..oooohhh…..left

nipple, while the other…….aaahhhh……has just gone down

inside my pants.”

Mike whispered in my ear “Keep talking”.

“What?” I replied. Elona thought I was talking to her and

asked again what was wrong.

“Keep talking,” whispered Mike a second time.

“Ellie? I have a man here who is dying ……….” I had to

pause for a second as his finger touched a spot that took my

breath away, “……to have sex with me while I talk on the

phone to you…….”

I heard a round of giggling as Elona repeated my words to

Phil. A few moments later, her level of laughter increased and I

heard her shriek.

“Me too!” she said when she finally came back to the phone.

“Better finish…..this………conversation………Oh

God!……..”

Mike had knelt down on the floor, lifted me onto the table,

pulled down my knickers and buried his head between my legs.

“……..tomorrow…….I‟ve got…..to go…..bye Ellie!”

I put the phone down and spread my legs wide. He was dying

for me. Right there in the hall Mike nibbled the folds of my

flesh while two fingers eased their way in. I imagined what

might be happening to Elona, that Phil‟s strong body had moved

between Elona legs. I tried to imagine Elona‟s excitement as

she trembled in anticipation of her first fuck. As Mike pleasured

me between my legs, I pictured Phil ripping open Elona‟s

blouse, then picking her up and carrying her to bed.

Friends or Lovers

In my mind‟s eye, I watched him as he spread her legs and

climbed between them. His strong muscular buttocks thrust into

her with each movement of Mike‟s fingers inside me. Just as I

started to wonder whether it was pure wickedness to picture Phil

as Mike brought me off, waves of pleasure started to glide up

through my body. I arched back and focussed my thoughts on

the feeling of Mike‟s tongue while picturing Phil between

Elona‟s legs. The surge continued and built, and I surfed

towards heaven, my breath shortening, my eyes closed, until the

nerve ends all pulsated simultaneously and I convulsed

struggling to catch my breath.

As I lay there, moaning, Mike‟s lips made their way up the

front of my body gently kissing the breasts that I had exposed,

until I felt his breath on my face. He tried to kiss me but I

pulled away.

“How do you do that?” I said.

“Do what?” he asked.

“How d‟you make me feel like that?”

He laughed gently.

“I don‟t know. Comes naturally, I guess.”

He did not intend the pun, but I laughed anyway. Then I put

both my hands on his cheeks and felt tears welling up in my

eyes.

“Have you any idea how deeply I am in love with you?” I

asked.

It was the first time I had uttered the actual words and I waited

for his reply.

“This much?” he said, gesturing a small amount with his

thumb and finger.

Rory Ridley-Duff

I laughed again but wanted to preserve the tenderness of the

moment.

“No. This much!” I said as I pressed my lips onto his and

aggressively pushed my tongue into his mouth. I held his head

in my hands as I explored everything I could find. As we

kissed, he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his

waist. After carrying me to the bedroom, he threw me down

manfully and put his hands on my knees while glancing down at

a huge erection.

“And I love you this much!” he said.

He tried to spread my legs but I resisted him. Something told

me I was wicked but I just knew he was dying for me. I revelled

in the lust that we‟d created and teased him to the full,

pretending to resist while egging him on to have his way with

me.

“Come on, big boy,” I said, remembering the way Elona and I

had goaded Phil. “Show me what you are made of!”

As these words left my mouth, I gave in and allowed him to

overpower me. I held his sleek and powerful body as it tensed

and relaxed. I spread my legs as wide as I could, and guided his

penis towards my pussy. Then, for reasons I could not fathom,

my mind suddenly cast itself back to the moment when John had

asked me about the army and sexism. Suddenly here, as Mike

overpowered me and started to thrust himself deep into me, I

found myself wondering if I had stumbled across the answer.

I immediately pushed the thought from my mind. As the man I

had chosen to give my heart glided into me again and again, I

helped to bring him to the heights of ecstasy. As a teenager, my

sister once said to me that she could not imagine anything more

satisfying than the thought of her lover so filled with passion

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that he could not resist her. She would fantasise about her

boyfriend so full of lust that he would force himself on her as

she tried to resist him. At the time, I found her fantasies sick, as

if she was fantasising about rape. But in this moment I realised

what was so exciting to her. I wanted to be Mike‟s greatest

fantasy, the woman that he could not resist. I wanted to him to

feel an uncontrollable desire for me that no-one, not even I,

could stop. If I could do that to him…for him…he would be

mine forever.

And there, as Mike arched in the throws of orgasm and shot his

sperm deep into me, I hoped he was feeling the same crushing

desire that I felt for him. I hoped he felt the bewilderment and

disorientation I felt when his magic tongue took me to another

plane of existence. I watched his face strain as he reached the

limits of his passion, every spark of sexual energy that he

possessed ignited and firing through his body. What greater gift

could I give him? And what more could he give me than show

his inability to resist me? As I lay on the bed, with Mike‟s spent

body still lying inside me, I held him in my arms and wept. All

the certainties that I had ever felt about how men and women

should behave vanished in the dust. I had entered a new world

and reached a new level of understanding.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 47

My first task, when I arrived at work the next morning, was to

invite Phil into my office for a private conference. I had two

agendas - one personal, the other professional. Unusually for

him, he was late so I passed the time by checking over my e-

mails. There was the usual junk that I discarded, but today I

looked at them differently. I found myself less worried about

pornography than e-mails offering prescription drugs. Did we

want staff self-prescribing Vallium or Diazepam? That thought

horrified me considerably more than sex-invitations from places

like Dirty Dicks or Giant Jugs. In fact, I was tempted to tear up

the zero-tolerance policy on porn completely. Would it really

cause a problem to treat people like adults and allow them to

exercise their own judgement?

I received an e-mail from Dave. It was my appraisal form.

When I started, one of my first acts was to introduce 360º

reviews. I had to appraise myself, then ask one of my peers,

then one of my subordinates and lastly get feedback from a

director. The objective was to stimulate discussion and

reflection about different perceptions of my work.

I printed it and filled it in. Each part of the appraisal had tick

boxes. The tick boxes allowed each person to say how the

employee performed relative to their own expectations. I felt

this was better than a 1 – 5 scale because “communication

skills” in a CEO were much more important than in a

bookkeeper. But when it came to “attention to detail” the

reverse was probably true.

It was strange filling out an appraisal form that I had designed

myself, but I did it both quickly and diligently, adding written

Friends or Lovers

comments at the bottom of each section. I was quite hard on

myself – a reflection of the difficult period I had just been

through – but in the comments I talked extensively about what I

had learnt. As soon as Phil arrived, I gave the form to him and

asked if he would complete it then pass it to Jo. Finally, Dave

had to complete the section as director.

When Phil had completed the form I called him into my office.

As he walked through the door the two of us beamed at each

other in the knowledge that we had both enjoyed the evening

before.

“Good morning, Mr Trent!” I said with mock formality. “Had

a good evening, did you?”

“Yes, Ms Leyton,” he replied with a smile. “Very pleasant.

How about you?”

“I‟ve had worse!” I replied in probably the biggest

understatement of my entire life.

Phil broke into laughter and I instinctively moved to embrace

him.

“Too late,” he said, slightly defensively.

“For what?” I asked.

“I‟m off the market, Penny!”

Before I could protest, I realised that he was having a joke with

me.

“Between friends,” I said, “I think it‟s permitted.”

My gentle sarcasm amused him and he felt slightly awkward as

I put my arms around him for the first time. After a second, his

arms made their way around my back and he held me much

more tightly than I expected. It felt really good. I found myself

hanging onto him and not letting go. I started to rub his back,

then felt his hands on mine.

Rory Ridley-Duff

When we finally let go of each other, we looked into each

other‟s eyes and both realised the intensity of the feelings that

we had just communicated.

“Well, there‟s a first for everything!” I said with some surprise.

“She worships you, you know!”

A sudden surge of modesty interrupted my moment of vanity.

“I cannot think why!” I replied.

“I can,” he said, as he separated himself from me and sat down

in a chair.

“You are too kind, sir!” I said mocking him a bit, but inside I

was uncomfortable at anyone building me into a special person.

“She gave me a message for you, by the way,” added Phil.

“What is it?”

He rummaged around in his briefcase and brought out an

envelope. On the outside were the words “Penny Leyton –

strictly Private and Confidential”. I showed the writing to Phil.

“Go on then, hoppit and come back in 5 minutes. Go make a

coffee or something.”

“Aren‟t you going to show me?” he asked.

“Rule number 1,” I said, “if an employee says something is

private and confidential, then treat it as private and confidential!

Go on, see you in a moment!”

Phil, slightly surprised, but accepting of my command, left for

the coffee machine while I opened the envelope. Inside was a

folded bit of paper.

Penny,

I lost something last night – I’m sure you’ll understand what I

mean. It was not the wonderful and incredible experience that

I had hoped for but it was still very exciting. I found the

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cuddling afterwards more enjoyable and we talked and talked.

Waking up with someone next to you is something else, isn’t it?

Is this normal – I don’t feel completely bowled off my feet?

Ellie

I immediately picked up the phone and dialled her extension.

“Can you talk?” I asked.

“Yes. There‟s no-one here at the moment.”

“I got your note!” I said.

“Am I being too hard on him?”

“No, Ellie. Sex is like everything else in life. The more you

practice it, the better it gets. Just be patient and it will happen.

Was the spark there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean did you want to rip his clothes off and jump into bed

with him?”

“God, yes. But when we started it hurt a bit. He wasn‟t that

gentle!”

“Then tell him.”

“I can‟t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I might hurt his feelings!”

Why, I wondered, did people so often think that it was

preferable not to hurt someone else‟s feelings when their body

was being hurt?

“Ellie, he‟ll want to give you as much pleasure as he can. If he

doesn‟t then you‟ll want to think again about whether he‟s right

for you.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Phil coming back into

the office.

Rory Ridley-Duff

“I have to go now,” I said. “Phil‟s coming!”

“Don‟t tell him. Please!”

“Jeez, Ellie! I wouldn‟t dream of it. See you at the flat

tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, sure!”

I rang off as Phil entered the office.

“She told you then?”

“No secrets between girlfriends,” I answered.

“What did she say?”

“That‟s between me and her, but if you are wondering whether

she wants to see you again, I think I can definitely confirm that

the answer is „yes‟!”

He smiled as he gave me the coffee.

“I‟m more interested in what you have to say,” I offered.

He suddenly looked quite sheepish and unsure. His eyes left

mine for a moment and studied the floor and I noticed that his

hands moved from his knees and joined together in an awkward

clasp. He was surprisingly nervous.

“Phil?” I asked. “Are you alright? You don‟t have to say

anything.”

“This is in confidence, right?”

“Like a doctor and patient!” I said, trying to be reassuring.

“Well, it was good and all, but we didn‟t……I didn‟t…..”

He hesitated again. When he didn‟t start talking I tried to give

him some gentle encouragement.

I realised that his anxiety about sharing his feelings was no

different from mine. As I watched Phil struggle it reminded me

of my own struggle with John. I remembered how he had

moved around to my side and gently reassured me. I decided to

Friends or Lovers

do the same. As I sat next to him, I put my arm on his back and

helped him.

“I was so excited, Penny! I just wanted her so bad, but she

didn‟t really know what to do. Do you know what I mean?”

I looked at him and nodded.

“I mean – I took her into the bedroom and I could tell she

wanted me……”

He hesitated again. Clearly this was difficult for him to say.

“But……we didn‟t……”

“It‟s okay – nobody‟s going to judge you, Phil.”

“We didn‟t……..have any……foreplay!” he finally said.

I started to understand what he was saying and gently

encouraged him.

“I really like her and all, but I didn‟t know how to ask her

to……you know…..?”

“I think I know what you mean, Phil!” I said confidently.

“I wanted her to…but she didn‟t seem to know anything. I just

ended up sticking it in and pumping away. It hurt and I was

worried about hurting her. But I‟d started and didn‟t want to

take it out because I thought she might think I didn‟t want to

make love to her. I thought I might hurt her feelings.”

I had to stifle a laugh – he would not have understood why I

found this funny. I was instantly relieved. They were going to

do well if they cared so much about each others‟ feelings on

their first date. Neither was interested in blaming the other.

These are the moments when people are at their most

vulnerable, when one wrong word or gesture can destroy trust

and end a relationship. I gently listened to him and tried to work

out how to tell him what he needed to hear. Can there be

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anything more important in my line of work? Is there anything

more important in life?

“Talk to her, Phil. Talk to her about her parents. Talk to her

about her upbringing. If you can do that you will find the

answers you are looking for and discover someone who is going

to bring you a lot of pleasure.”

“You think?” he said.

“No promises!” I said, “but I‟m confident you‟ll be happier the

more you get to know her.”

“I just wanted it to be better for her, you know?”

“Then tell her,” I said reassuringly.

“I can‟t do that!”

I felt like I was in the middle of a re-run, but I smiled broadly

and looked him in the eye.

“Tell her!” I said gently. “She‟s ready to learn if you have the

confidence to teach her.”

As I looked at him, I saw his eyes grow moist. This was a first

for me, I realised. I couldn‟t remember any other occasion when

a man, any man, family, friend or lover, had expressed his fears

to me about sex. I had always thought men didn‟t care but as

Phil poured out his feelings, I thought about George, the lad I

had picked up in the bar when I was out with Carole and Chris.

He had screamed at me that he was not a piece of meat. As Phil

talked about the pleasure he had wanted to bring Ellie, I thought

about George and the violence I had done him by not treating

him with respect. Where did he end up that night, I wonder? I

tried to imagine how he must have felt as he walked away.

Before I knew it, words started to spill out of my mouth.

“I did something once that I‟m truly ashamed of….” I started.

Friends or Lovers

It was my turn to feel ashamed and hesitant, to cast my eyes

down on the floor and wonder whether I had the courage to talk.

I looked at Phil and his gentle smile reassured me.

“I picked up a young lad once. He was called George, not

even as old as you…”

It was Phil‟s turn to touch me gently and reassure me that it

was okay to talk.

“I ruthlessly seduced him.”

Phil looked surprised at my choice of words.

“Yes, I ruthlessly seduced him,” I repeated, letting the import

of the words hang in the air for a moment.

“What happened?” Phil asked.

“I took him back to my flat and demanded service. When he

wasn‟t very good at it, instead of gently telling him how to give

me the pleasure I wanted, I did the most disrespectful thing I‟ve

ever done…..”

Phil sat there, saying nothing, but gently coaxed me with his

eyes and gentle touch.

“I……”, I began, but found it too hard to say at first.

As the realisation of what I had done engulfed me, my eyes

started to moisten and tears started to roll down my nose and

drip onto the floor.

“I…..wished…….,” as I struggled to say it, I felt Phil‟s hand at

the small of my back rubbing my spine. It felt nice. I looked up

at him with eyes full of tears.

“I wished he was someone else.”

Phil just nodded and suddenly the words started to flow much

more freely. Out poured the story of that night with a frankness

and level of detail that I had withheld from John. I realised that

I was letting Phil into my life, not just as a professional

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colleague but as my closest personal friend. I poured out my

feelings to him for nearly 15 minutes. When I stopped, Phil

started to talk again.

“Penny. I‟ve never talked to anyone, ever, about this kind of

stuff.”

“Never?” I asked.

“Never!” he reaffirmed.

When I thought about it, for all John‟s openness, for all my

closeness to Mike, neither of them had ever revealed to me how

they felt about making love to a woman. When do men talk

about this I wondered?

“Never?” I asked again.

He nodded more strongly.

“Never!” he said again.

“My God,” I said after a pause. “What a thought!”

As we gathered ourselves up we noticed the cold coffees on

the table.

“I‟m going to get us some more drinks,” I said, drying my

eyes. “Then, I have to tell you that I think I‟m going to be

sacked.”

Friends or Lovers

Chapter 48

The rest of the week was unsettling. After I had divulged to Phil

what happened at the CIPD event, Phil confessed to me that

he‟d been visited by Harry. At senior management levels, there

was a growing interest in the dispute between Elona and Mike.

Phil reassured me that whatever happened I would always have

his respect. I told him he was too generous. I nearly screwed up

completely for no other reason than my own prejudices. Phil

berated me for being too hard on myself and said that I had

come to terms with it more quickly and more fully than anyone

else he had known. The way I changed my mind about Mike,

and the care I had shown to Elona, mattered more to him than

the prejudices I had initially displayed. It was this that gave him

confidence in me.

I received my appraisal from Dave and there were no surprises.

He had marked me down on most aspects of my performance

and cited the handling of the dispute as the reason. Privately I

knew that it had more to do with the way our relationship had

turned sour. This was the beginning of the end. Jo had been

kind and positive, as had Phil. Nevertheless, having briefed

Dave and the other senior executives about the appraisal

process, I quickly realised that my continued employment was

problematic.

I took the matter into my own hands and visited Harry. I

talked with him for nearly two hours, going over the issues that

the appraisal had raised but avoiding the matter of Dave‟s

behaviour toward me. At the end of our meeting, he said he

could make „no promises‟ which I took to mean that a decision

had already been taken.

Rory Ridley-Duff

As I left his office, I suddenly realised something that had

never occurred to me before. It is only by keeping someone in a

post after they have made a mistake that a company can benefit

from what they learn. The human resource policy capable of

developing truly outstanding leaders is the one that allows

people to learn from their mistakes. If our propensity to sack

people, or demote them, goes unchecked then eventually a

company loses the very people capable of forming a top-rate

management team.

Intolerance toward failure removes the very people learning

the most and those lucky enough to avoid it remain untouched.

And so, a layer of new managers develops beneath them - a

generation of sycophants and conformists who (having watched

their own bosses fall from grace) learn not to take risks and

never do anything that might lead to failure. As conformity and

false consensus takes root, challenges to management behaviour,

ideals, thoughts and actions slowly fades away. Managers stop

facing – on a daily basis - the impacts of their decisions, or any

moral debate about their actions. Management failure is passed

down the line and before long senior managers start to wonder

why „no good people are coming through‟.

As I contemplated what would happen if I failed my probation,

I felt in awe of the social forces that were assembling. Harry,

perhaps, was about to make a corporate decision that would

spark a major conflict. Maybe he would survive it, maybe not,

but his isolation from what had taken place meant that people

around him should have been urging caution. They should have

been urging him to avoid acting precipitously.

I could see that matters were already spiralling out of control.

Harry would act on what he knew. My two-hour conversation

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was a drop in the ocean compared to the tidal wave of advice

and information sweeping across his desk from Dave and others

who knew nothing of what had occurred. I was foolish to

harbour any hope. I was tempted to return to Harry‟s office and

say all this. Instead I returned to my office and trusted that my

friends would be able to bring off their coup d’etat.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 49

John was waiting for me at Pizza Hut. I wanted to return to the

scene of our first meeting. He had anticipated a long lunch and

had ordered a bottle of wine. It felt like a homecoming. At the

end of such an emotional week, I was particularly glad to see

him.

His contract at IC was at an end. He felt the training had gone

well and that there was now a good chance that the SHARE

experience would sell well. As we looked over the menu, he

chatted about progress. Before I left, I talked to Jo and realised

that John‟s contribution was not just technical. In the time he

had been there, he had formed a committed and thriving team.

The way he talked and cut through bullshit impacted on staff

morale. Two-months earlier when the department had been

formed, there was a group of disparate and irritable people.

Now it was a cohesive squad equipped to take on the

competition. I finally realised why John‟s reputation was

so good.

“Everything is set,” he said.

“That‟s good. A week ago I was dreading this, but now I‟m

quite excited about it.”

“Mike talked to everyone in the department yesterday. The

reaction was really good. He let me say my piece. I was moved

that people listened to my views and were so supportive.”

It was good to hear that the future was positive for IC staff

despite the direction of my own life. We were gearing up for

the largest marketing and sales push in our history and even Sam

and Elaine had taken the time to speak with everyone. They had

Friends or Lovers

organised a drinks reception to round off the day: a last chance

to let their hair down before “the big push”.

We chatted and exchanged small talk until the food came.

Then I decided to get personal. Several things bugged me and I

wanted to clear them up.

“John?” I started tentatively.

“Yes, Pen?”

“Why did you sit next to me on the plane?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, I really want to know!” I said.

“Remember my talk at the CIPD?”

“Could hardly forget it!”

“Well, your arse was definitely part of the equation but not the

main reason!”

“What else?”

“I noticed you sitting in the lounge. Our eyes met a couple of

times and I liked that. You were reading a book, like me. It was

a novel by Bernice Rubens, I think. I‟ve read her novels so I

thought we might get on. But it was when you moved in the

queue that I realised you‟d noticed me too.”

I was listening attentively, trying to see myself through his

eyes and understand how I had impacted on him. He looked at

me from time to time, but as he spoke he focussed more and

more on his thoughts. His eyes wandered around, looking

variously at his food, the table and me. As he did so, his face lit

up.

“The clincher was definitely the shoelaces,” he said.

“You mentioned that in the speech, didn‟t you?”

“Yes. When you did that I knew you must‟ve read Ms

magazine.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

I did not understand how he could work out that I had once

read Ms magazine.

“How could you know that?”

“Easy. That‟s where the advice was first given to women.

There was an article in the mid-90s telling women how to flirt at

work. The headline was quite uninspiring, I remember. I think

it was something like „The Working Woman‟s Guide to Sex at

Work‟ right before an article about sexual harassment!

Anyway, I pictured you as a single professional woman who

enjoyed her independence and men!”

We both laughed at the irony, but I was still amazed that he‟d

made a connection.

“You never cease to amaze, John. Are you really telling me

that you remembered this article about tying non-existence

shoelaces while in the queue at the airport?”

“It‟s not so strange Penny. I didn‟t read the article, I wrote it!

I added that bit of advice about the shoelace as a joke. I‟d never

seen anybody do it. I thought the idea was amusing and it

would be a laugh for the magazine‟s readers.”

“You?”

“Why so surprised? I‟d just finished my PhD and was full of

that stuff. I had to make a living and for a short while I wrote

lots of magazine articles.”

“I can‟t believe it!” I said, absolutely gob-smacked.

John looked me square in the eye.

“So there you were doing something to attract me that I‟d

written about nearly 10 years earlier. It was art creating life. I

was looking at you in those fantastic jeans and pondering the

connection between us. I stood there behind you and realised

Friends or Lovers

that my life had touched yours 10 years earlier. I couldn‟t resist

talking to you.”

As I was trying to take this in, to comprehend the myriad of

different things that he had been thinking about when we met, I

realised what a complex and accidental thing attraction can be.

“Do you remember what you asked me on the plane?”

“We chatted for ages, I must‟ve asked you many things,” he

replied.

“About sexism in the army!”

“Did I ask you that? My goodness – we must have got on well

for me to ask you that!”

He had forgotten. To me that question had separated him from

everyone else I‟d ever known. To him, the question was old hat,

a party piece that he‟d asked hundreds, if not thousands of times.

“Yes! You were very forward,” I said.

“You mean there are people more forward than me?” he joked.

I tried to think of one, but could not.

“Well, there‟s me!” I answered.

“Yes,” he laughed. “You‟re definitely more forward than me!”

As we laughed, I wanted to tell him of my discovery.

“I have an answer for you.”

“To what?”

“To your question, dummy!”

“Oh, that?” he said mockingly as I realised that he was jesting

with me.

“If you have, Pen, then you have my total respect. Usually I

have to spend ages giving hints and heavy clues before people

work it out.”

I hesitated. What if I had missed the point and was about to

make a complete fool of myself? I dismissed it quickly from my

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thoughts. If I was to become a fool again, it would take its place

at the back of a very long list of foolish thoughts and actions. I

wanted to know whether my answer was the one he was looking

for so I set aside my fears and told him.

He looked gob-smacked. “How did you come up with that?”

He was truly amazed. Just as I was about to panic that I‟d

made a huge gaff, a grin started to spread over his face.

His hand moved to his cheek and he rubbed it as his mouth

stayed open. He was truly amazed.

“How did you work it out, Pen?” he asked.

“It‟s strange, really,” I said.

So I started to tell the story. Mike had been fondling me while

I was talking on the phone and in my head I kept thinking „he‟s

dying for me, really dying for me‟. That phrase kept popping

into my head. And then, as I started to tease him and goad him I

had a sudden realisation that I wanted him to be strong – I

wanted him to be stronger than me. So I started to resist him.

Initially, I felt bad, as if I was doing something wrong, but I

wanted him to overpower me to prove to me that he could. I

wanted to test that his love was so great that I couldn‟t stop him

expressing it.

And in the next instant, I thought how unfair it was that I

should be testing him, making him use force to get what I dearly

wanted to give anyway. I was encouraging him to be aggressive

and I started to wonder why I was doing it. Then it hit me. I

wanted him to prove he was stronger than me. Never before had

I thought of sex as a kind of test through which men had to pass

to prove their strength. Never before had I thought of the

problems that might create.

Friends or Lovers

So I set out for John what had been going through my head. If

he was not stronger than me, how could he ever protect me?

And the moment I felt ashamed of thinking this way, I stopped

resisting him. And yet, the phrase “he‟s dying for me” kept

spinning through my head. Suddenly, I put these two thoughts

together. I wanted him to overpower me so that I would know

he was strong enough to protect me, even die for me. I

wondered about that phrase. Why do we say „he‟s dying for

me‟? Where does that expression come from? There I was

lying there wanting him to prove that he would be prepared to

die for me.

John‟s question popped into my head – it was one of those

flashes of intuition that have no explanation. What could be

more sexist than expecting a man to die for you when you were

not prepared to die for him? Would I be prepared to die for

him? I would kill to keep him, but that was not the same thing

as being prepared to die to save him. I wanted him to be

prepared to die for me, but I realised that I would not die for

him. So I stopped teasing him and started to care instead about

giving him as much pleasure as I could.

It gave me my first true glimpse of the power that women can

wield – that we make a man feel that he has to prove his

willingness to die before we will love him. Mike, I knew, would

sacrifice himself for me, but not in the movie hero sense. A few

days before, when we had been driving home, he told me that he

would let me go if I wanted children. I could not imagine

making such a sacrifice.

“But your question, John,” I continued. “It stopped me

insisting that he be prepared to die for me as a pre-condition of

my love. I gave it to him willingly, no preconditions, no tests.”

Rory Ridley-Duff

“That‟s it, Penny! That‟s what men are taught to do. Usually

they never think twice about it for the entirety of their lives.”

“We expect men to die. We expect them to die to protect us.

And for no other reason than they are men,” I said, finally.

What a journey I had travelled. For the last 20 years, since I

had been introduced to feminism, I had been taught (and taught

others) that war was caused by men, fought by men, for the

benefit of men. It had taken me all this time to see it a different

way. War might be fought – in the minds of the men who

fought them – to protect those they love. Perhaps it was not

even for this reason. For them, perhaps, it was to show

themselves worthy of someone‟s love. As I faced up to the truth

that I would not die for my man, but wanted him to be prepared

to die for me, my own part in men‟s violence became clearer to

me.

John interrupted my thoughts with some of his own.

“If we cared about equality, Pen – if we valued men as much

as women - we would be recruiting the strongest people to fight

our wars. Many women are strong and fit, even if the average

man is stronger than the average women. By rights, our armies

would have many women fighting alongside men. Equality

means that women would insist on their responsibility to fight,

not just their right.”

I thought about this for a second and suddenly became bold.

“Then that‟s what we should do,” I said. “It‟s only fair!”

“Fair, yes. Sensible, maybe not.”

“Why? Surely we should recognise this…..” I said with ardour

of a convert.

John stopped me.

“There is another point of view,” he said firmly.

Friends or Lovers

I gestured for him to continue.

“Let‟s suppose that there was a battle and after there were

1,000 women left in a village who could bear children, but only

100 men. Would the society be able to survive?”

“Of course. And those men are going to be busy, aren‟t they?”

“I suppose they are,” he said.

His face, however, was not whimsical.

“But what if it was the other way around? What if there were

1,000 men and only 100 women left?”

His question made me think. It would take countless more

generations to rebuild a community if this happened. I thought

about his words but challenged them.

“I don‟t buy that,” I started. “If women and men were fighting

on the front line together, not only would they be building

mutual respect and enduring relationships with each other, when

the battle was over there would be roughly equal numbers left. I

think any community would be happier as a result of that,

wouldn‟t they, even if there were not as many left. Women

have fought alongside men in revolutions so why not in

armies?”

He smiled at me.

“Would you fight?” he asked.

I hesitated.

“Would you?” I responded.

“I don‟t have a choice, Penny.”

“Of course you do,” I insist. “We don‟t force people into the

army.”

John disagreed.

“Look at the history of war. If I refuse to fight, my own

government is likely to put me in jail where I can be expect to

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be beaten, buggered and left to die. If I fight at first, then

change my mind, I am court-marshalled for cowardice, not

bravery. Not long ago I would have been executed if I tried to

reject violence. My only other alternative would be to take up

arms against my own government – which means fighting my

own people, my own brothers and sisters. Either way, I‟m left

with no way out of violence. I can choose the enemy, my own

government, or a court of law. Even if my own country

supported a right to conscientiously object, would I get mercy

from the enemy?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember Fallujah?” he enquired.

“Fallujah? In Iraq you mean?”

“Yes. No man between the age of 15 and 55 was allowed out

of the city before the US forces attacked it. Remember the

phrase they used? The soldiers were „clearing the ground‟.

They cleared the ground by shooting everyone they came

across.”

“But that‟s genocide,” I objected.

“No,” John replied. “Only men were killed. The women and

children were allowed to leave. Even if my own side spares me,

the enemy won‟t. They don‟t care if I support the war or not,

they‟ll still kill me. Again, I have no choice except to fight.”

“My God!” was all I could say. The horror of this appalled

me. I felt sick. John saw my discomfort.

“I don‟t have the choices you do, Penny. It‟s not a question

that really means anything to me. It‟s not true that men love

war. If we did, there would be no need for conscription, no need

for draft laws, no need for military laws to punish deserters, no

Friends or Lovers

need for court marshals, no executions or jail for men when they

reject violence.”

I wondered what it must be like to grow up constantly

wondering if, one day, you would be forced to fight against your

will. Suddenly it made sense that little boys played with guns.

It‟s not necessary to teach them, they simply work out for

themselves that one day they may have to fight.

“Keep saying these things, John. Don‟t let anyone stop you.”

He nodded and the conversation moved onto an assortment of

trivia as we finished off a lovely “stuffed crust” pizza with

chargrilled chicken, peppers and extra cheese. After a second

bottle of wine, I was too drunk to drive home so we walked it

off in the park and visited a coffee bar. I had a truly wonderful

day.

Rory Ridley-Duff

Chapter 50

I wish I could tell you that things worked out well, that truth and

justice prevailed, that the initial love I felt for Mike lasted until

the day I died. I wish I could say that most of us lived happily

for most of our lives. It wasn‟t to happen, but as things

changed, new relationships were formed and moments of

happiness were found amidst the problems we all faced.

I was sacked. Or, if you prefer the description on my

employment record “Penny failed her probationary period

because of poor job performance”. It would have been easy to

get bitter and start a crusade over the injustice but I did not want

to become another statistic at the Equal Opportunity

Commission, or a voice to be used against men and women I

had come to respect. They did their best, but were as frail,

prejudiced and limited as me.

If it had not been for the intervention of a gifted person, who

did so only out of affection for me, I would have added to these

statistics myself. I did not want to end up being one of the

women who contributed to the problems that men face today,

problems which after millennia of neglect are finally becoming

the subject of debate. But nor did I want to become another

woman who gave up her dreams of mixing work and family by

finding a balance that enabled me to enjoy life outside the home.

Several generations of women made it possible for me to

exercise choice, some died so that I could do so, and I felt a

responsibility to give back some of what they had given to me.

John returned to his wife and they continued, between his and

her escapades, to make their peace with each other. For the rest

of his life he enjoyed – if that is the right word – an open

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marriage. I prefer to think of them as two free spirits with the

capacity to forgive each other when loneliness led them astray.

John saw Sally from time to time, and certainly whenever she

needed his support he made himself available. At the same

time, he kept returning home from his travels to enjoy time with

the family that he created, nurtured and loved.

Professionally, John remained a nomad for another decade

before finally giving in to the temptation of politics. My

cynicism about politicians faded dramatically as I met him over

the years and learned of the endless no-win scenarios that they

face. It was impossible, of course, for him ever be completely

free of bias or prejudice, or the interests within which he had

become embedded, but I watched as he did his best to navigate

them. He never rose to the level of cabinet minister but he

distinguished himself in small ways as a member of one

government. You have probably never heard of him.

After serving just one term, he lost his seat and switched to

writing. I have his books and read each one that comes out. He

remains my dearest and most enduring friend. Once or twice, at

times when we both felt sad, we got together to spend good

times. Sometimes we would cuddle on the sofa. But – and this

is something I partly regret, but am also proud of – we have not

felt the need to consummate our relationship. It is no less

special for that and we continue to protect what we have in ways

that seem right to us.

I enjoyed many happy years with Mike, but he was right about

my desire to have children. I gave him one or two pushes in that

direction but he kept his word and stubbornly encouraged me

into a new relationship. We parted amicably and he remains a

good friend. Sally was immediately on the scene and this time

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Mike gave in to her. She had been through the menopause and

Mike lost his excuse for resisting her. They are now married.

Sally finally got her man. Nine years after his first wife had

falsely accused him of sleeping with her, Mike ended up

committing himself to Sally for life. When I meet them, I detect

the kind of closeness that I have in my own marriage. They are

one of life‟s happy couples.

As for Sam and Elaine, their marriage hit the rocks about five

years later. The success of their company created problems.

Elaine enjoyed life as a company director and took on more

directorships. She got a buzz from the political battles and liked

to forge change. Sam, when the success of SHARE began to

fade, wanted to get back to inventing and engineering new

products. She was the business brains and it was her will that

prevailed in the short term. After Procter & Gamble bought

them out, their marriage failed. Sam rejoined IC to engineer

new products.

Dave kept his job, of course, but the events that took place

following my departure cost him dearly. His wife went into a

hospice where she died six-months later. Within twelve months

he had been demoted. Afterwards, he had a breakdown.

According to Phil, he never fully recovered. I once wrote to him

to see whether he wanted to talk about the past. He declined,

adding that he hoped never to see me again. It was a sad way

for our relationship to end and despite the bitterness on his side,

I think of the good times we had.

My sister Carole married Chris, and their second child – Penny

Ann – was born one day early. In giving a „best woman‟

speech, I discovered my talent for public speaking. I also found

myself taking a much greater interest in being an aunt. The love

Friends or Lovers

between Carole and Chris was elastic: it stretched and bent as

life threw its worst at them. Each had a tremendous capacity to

accommodate the other‟s weaknesses and failings.

Phil and Elona had a crack at things, eventually got married

and had two children. However, it did not last. When Elona‟s

parents retired, they devoted themselves to grandparenthood.

Phil felt they spent all their time interfering in his marriage and

the raising of his children. He felt so superfluous that eventually

he left. When Elona took out a court injunction to stop Phil

seeing his children, it created a big rift between Elona and

myself. Given what happened later, I found it impossible to

build bridges with her again.

Phil got limited access after a lengthy court battle. It took

much of the spirit out of him for many years, and when his

children started blaming him for the marriage break-up, he

eventually stopped seeing them altogether. It broke his heart.

He writes to them each birthday and still clings onto the hope

that one day he will be able to make up for lost time.

As for me, the contingency plan worked a treat. I went to

work for Sam and Elaine. Phil was promoted into my position

at IC and we kept in touch. Mike, with help from John, Sam and

Elaine, persuaded the entire SHARE team to leave IC and

become members of Sam and Elaine‟s company. In exchange

for giving up continuous employment rights, Sam and Elaine

gave each member a generous shareholding in the new

company. Everyone expected the SHARE product to be a

success, so they took up this opportunity in large numbers.

There was a furious legal battle, of course, but Sam and Elaine

had committed investors and staff. When I look back, the

dispute between Elona and Mike was the catalyst that ended

Rory Ridley-Duff

IC‟s rapid growth. In the 5 years that followed, I rode on the

crest of a wave as the SHARE experience exceeded all our

expectations and became the number one seller in the personal

hygiene market. It gave the rampant rabbit a good run as the

number one sex toy, but never toppled it. Many of us became

paper millionaires for a while, but arrogance and

shortsightedness eroded the share price before the company was

sold off.

I remain close to Elaine and we both did well out of the

company sale. We formed a new business together – the Social

Exchange. Today, I am its managing director and we help

organisations develop progressive approaches to human

resource management. John works with us on some projects,

but he is getting quite old now. As I learnt through reflecting on

my life and writing this story, it is not only inside the home that

intimate relationships are of vital importance.

Each new business starts out with two people who like and

trust each other well enough to give the other what they need.

While banks and development agencies get flustered about

business planning, finance, constitutional matters and legal

frameworks, this simple truth is not stated often enough. Trade

begins when you trust someone enough to pay for the products

or services they offer. That can happen without any written

agreement, or company constitution, and certainly does not

require a written contract of employment. Through the simple

act of exchanging labour for money, two people enter into their

own agreement. If it works for them both, they continue it.

It is a thankless task arguing against bureaucracy, against the

trend towards ever more standards of excellence, standardised

codes of ethics and kitemarks, against increasing numbers of

Friends or Lovers

laws that seek to regulate not only our behaviour, but even the

way we articulate our thoughts. In this struggle I have –

unsurprisingly - made little headway. But I am pleased to have

influenced a few organisations so that they keep bureaucracy to

a minimum and replace this with the exercise of moral

judgement in the way they deal with investors, customers,

employees and suppliers.

For a business to grow, there needs to be a culture in which

relationships are intimate and people can learn from the

mistakes they make. I learned this at IC, and that is why I

wanted to tell you this story. Intimate relationships are the

foundation our society, and from them spring not just new

human life but new economic life as well. Thankfully I have

been able to make a living saying this to many people, and

exploring ways to make it work in practice.

After I split from Mike, and Phil split from Elona, I started to

see Phil more. Our friendship developed into a lasting romance.

We now have two lovely children: a boy I insisted we call John.

Three years later we had a girl. We called her Hope. It may not

last, these things are never certain, but for now I am content.

Phil and I are the closest of friends and managed to rekindle our

passion for each other after we got the kids out of our bed. As I

look to the future, there is only one thing of which I am certain.

There is a strength that grows from being quick to listen and

slow to judge. If I can teach this to my children and

grandchildren, my time on this earth will not have been wasted.

~ End ~