So, where was I? Oh yeah, my date with Ann. O'Brien's little revelation had knocked me for six the night before, as I am sure you'll appreciate. I spent a good part of the night lying awake thinking that one over. At first I wasn't buying it at all. I'm good at reading people; it's a major facet of my day job. I couldn't believe I hadn't picked up on the signs there. Ann was giving out none of the usual lesbian vibe. She was close to Uma, fair enough, but in that 'best mates' way so beloved of women. The two ladies were not at all alike yet the disparity in their personalities seemed to work, each complementing the other. But it was a definitely a girly sort of friendship. Uma was strictly one for the boys; she had admitted that much herself in the bar over the infamous 'orgy' incident.

That made me sit up and think. What was it she had said that day? Some lunatic observation like: 'vaginas make me queasy...' If she would admit that to two blokes she has never met before, it is likely her confidences to a close friend would be a hell of a lot more graphic. Maybe that was the problem. Ann knew she wasn't up for a gay experiment so compensated by being her buddy instead, maybe waiting on the moment when Murphy finally drove the last nail in his wife's coffin and put her off men for life. Let's face it, the guy was doing his best to make a case for euthanising the male species all on his own. He might indeed drive even resolutely straight Uma into another woman's arms.

I decided, however, to cast aside my assumption that my first impression was right and review the situation logically. Let's take a good hard look at Ann. She's a lovely looking woman, independent and intelligent, obviously well-educated and travelled but she chooses to live in what is essentially a beautiful backwater, her life revolving around books and this sleepy small knit community. She shares her house with her brother, a laconic tough guy who effectively protects her from unwanted attention - but can't interfere with her life choices. An ideal set up in some ways if you wish to keep the world at bay. What could that be telling me? Could there have been a tragic relationship in her past - or more likely a series of them? Okay, that's a lame male reassessment of why women might prefer other women, I know - they must have had a bad experience and were just waiting for Mister Right to show and cure them of their affliction- but it happens, right? You tell me how many gay women you know that haven't got some sob story about how men treated them in their past?

So she settles down here in the Twilight Zone with her fair share of young men in attendance but doesn't seem to show much interest in them. O'Brien mentioned she'd dallied with a few but it had all come to nothing. Maybe she wasn't really interested - or maybe they weren't really interesting her? Most were either pretty vacant, lacking in much finesse - or too young. Then I thought about guys like Lachlan Curry and Alex Ross, maybe even Bud White or Zack Grant. I could see them hitting the right note with a woman like Ann. But there didn't seem to have been any relationship there at all.  Biebe was probably a little too domestic for her but he would certainly be a better bet than most of the bastards out there. A wounded woman might find the prospect of a big tough honourable guy like him a temptation. Instead, she has a couple of one night stands with losers like O'Brien and Hando? That suggested sexual frustration rather than any wish to connect with a man. The very opposite in their cases. What would a smart woman like Ann have to say to either of them once they had shot their load? She'd probably kill the resident white supremacist Hando for his racism alone, not to mention his chauvinism towards women in general. O'Brien was less annoying but hardly one for meaningful conversation. So she steers clear of nice guys or those who might just challenge her to a serious relationship and occasionally bangs blokes who would never be any more than a sexual thrill, meanwhile staying close to the real object of her affections, mopping her tears, telling her what bastards men are and biding her time?

Then I ask her to dinner. Uma had mentioned she thought I was a babe. What the fuck does that mean? That I qualify for one of her meaningless fucks? That I am slightly more appealing than a rubber vibrator but not likely to cross over whatever line she has drawn in the sand? At least I can talk sense and use words of more than four letters, I am warm on a cold night - and I work away a lot. My track record, gleaned in detail from my film, is that I have taken the veil where my private life is concerned. However, I am not averse to a little bit of fun and games here and there. So, I qualify for inclusion on her 'to do' list?

Ann had neatly side stepped the matter of my taking her to dinner. That means she doesn't want the whole world to know. I get an invite to a midweek supper at her place - nice and discreet. Tiptoe out early in the morning, Terry, and keep your mouth shut. I get laid, she gets laid - and no one's the wiser. Somehow I find that pretty offensive even if it sums up most of my intimate experiences of late. I'm a little jaded at being treated as little more than a life support system for my dick. Women today have it all. I'm not sure a hand job in the shower wouldn't be more dignified in the end. It would certainly be a longer love affair than what I'm used to these days. And my hand and I are inseparable.

So after tossing and turning all night, I came to the conclusion that Ann was possibly bisexual, or certainly shying away from commitment to a conventional heterosexual relationship most probably after some bad experiences - but that she might just like me. I had no better option. It was worth the attempt. It wouldn't be the first time my romantic endeavours had fallen on stony ground. I was tough. My motto had always been: 'Who Dares Wins...' I'd give it my best shot.

The next evening found me knocking on Ann's door, bunch of roses and a bottle of good Australian red in hand. I figured they sampled enough of the local grape so she might like to try something from Down Under. Before she sampled something else from Down Under.  There was a long delay before she opened the door. Her face was red, she appeared flustered and there was a teacloth slung over her left shoulder. "I'm sorry. Was I too early?" I asked extending my gifts tentatively.

Ann smiled, shook her head, nodded her head, grabbed the flowers and wine and began to make excuses. "Kitchen accident. No, not late. No, I mean, not early. For me? You shouldn't have! Pink roses?"

It all came out in a breathless rush. I caught the last word. Roses? Shit, was that a mistake? Roses were dodgy. I had rejected red ones as being too intimate at this stage - and yellow as being a little too distant. Pink had seemed the ideal compromise but I wondered if they carried some hidden meaning. Pink was a euphemism word for lesbian porn, wasn't it? Fuck. Trust me to get it wrong. I must have insulted her by offering a gift that tipped a wink that this was not a romantic overture and I knew she was gay. Or was that the better approach? Maybe she would prefer it if I set out my stall; I like you, let's get it on and not bother about the pretence of dating. Either way, I was walking through a gender minefield.

I smiled and said nothing by way of response. It's what I do when I need thinking time. She blushed a shade darker than the flowers and stood back to let me in. "Make yourself comfortable. I've set a table out on the deck at the back. We won't be disturbed. No one can see us there..."

The meal was great; she was a good cook. It was more than just a simple supper. Effort had been taken, a good sign. There was a pristine white linen cloth, a pretty floral arrangement, good crystal. Ann was wearing an elegant black dress, sophisticated but sexy, enough cleavage to be alluring but understated and refined. Her hair was swept up casually, that messy sort of affair with shiny tresses escaping haphazardly. Her makeup was light; her perfume expensive. This was how I like my women - grown up, well groomed, beautiful - but not overly primped. Things were going well. We talked. About everything: current affairs, sport, books, films, our views on life in general. She asked me a little of my life story; she offered nothing about her own. Although she was keen to talk freely on other topics, where personal matters were concerned, she showed no interest in sharing insights into her background, although she appeared fascinated by mine.

I wondered how I could surreptitiously turn the subject to her own story. If I broached it too directly, she might well back off so I decided to go through a conduit. "So how did you meet Uma?" I began.

Ann rolled her eyes; she seemed relaxed about the introduction of this topic. Strike one, Terry. She was loosening up. "Would you believe online? We were both writers of erotica - or wannabes anyway - and found ourselves posting on the same online sites. Most of the rest of the stuff was pretty dire. I was rather taken by hers and she with mine, so we began corresponding..."

"You go for all that castration stuff as well?" I laughed casually, but wondered if this was where I might find out the key to Ann. Had she, too, felt aggrieved by mankind and recognised a soul mate in the crazy Brit?

But Ann's giggle showed me I was on the wrong track - or at least, she was not about to give it up so easily. "She didn't write like that back when we met. Very much to the contrary. Uma was such a sparkling free spirit in those days. Her work was colourful, witty and very elegant. Sexy but powerful. She spoke of love but also rejoiced in men and women and earthly pleasure. It was very different back then. I call it B.C."

"Huh?" I responded, swirling wine around my glass thoughtfully. 

She gave me a knowing glance. "Before Cullen. Everything changed when he showed up. That bastard has ruined her life. Sometimes I could cheerfully murder him. I want my old friend back. I hate what she's become."

It was a passionate declaration. Love or friendship? Who could blame her for either? I was curious. Not just about Ann, but also about the enigmatic Uma who seemed to be some sort of focal point for this whole  Twin Peaks set up, even if a highly unlikely one. It would be easy to dismiss her as a fruit cake with a fine pair of legs and a potty mouth but it was becoming evident there was a lot more to her than that. "So, how did you get from online friends to partners?"

"We're not partners," she retorted, rather too quickly. I was unsure why my question had bothered her. "Uma came over here for a holiday. The States, I mean. I didn't live here then..." But she did not volunteer where she had lived before her move to the Big Sur. "Uma was at a crossroads, I think. There had been someone back home but it had drifted along for years going nowhere. Finally she finished it. She had a bit of money left from her family, no real ties  to speak of, so decided to do some travelling. She visited with me and we took a trip to San Francisco. Toured this area. Uma really liked it, which surprised me. I mean, she is this chic London sophisticate. I couldn't get the attraction for her. I love the place. Always have...but Uma? It surprised me, that's all..."

"So she decided to invest in this business?"

Ann gave me a searching look before she answered. I wasn't sure what it meant. "No. Not straight away. We went back to San Francisco. She met Cullen in a bar one night. That was it, really. They just took one look at each other and it was like I had vanished. The two of them disappeared. I think they went to Mexico. Next thing I hear, they'd got married and she had her green card. .."

"She married him so she could stay Stateside? He's got US citizenship..." I suggested.

Ann shrugged. "That's partly why she agreed to marry him. I mean, he was the one who was pushing for it, not her. It appears he fell head over heels for her and kept pressurising her to settle down with him. She was equally smitten - totally in love with him - but I think left to her own devices, she wouldn't have moved so fast. Uma's not stupid, whatever she pretends. But she wanted to stay and he was very persuasive. So she relented. They got married in Vegas and the rest is history..."

"History?" I asked, pouring out another two glasses of wine. Ann grimaced slightly. Was this a bad memory for her?

"I had come into this place - or at least part of it. A sort of inheritance.  It's a long story. She came up to visit me and realised the Phoenix was for sale. Cullen was away, auditioning in New York, he said, although if you ask me, I don't think he's an actor. Not that he couldn't be - the whole world's a stage to him - but I think he's lying.  Something doesn't jive for me about him. Anyway, on a whim, Uma bought the bar and restaurant and decided she was going to start a business here. Ralph thinks the world of her. I had kind of hoped they might get something going on at one stage, before Murphy swaggered in to ruin everything, that is. So we settled down here."

"And you've done okay?"

She thought about that for a while before replying. "Yeah, I think I've done well mostly. My business is not exactly going to break the bank but it pays the bills and it's a labour of love. Not many people can say that about what they do, can they?  I work hard but I'm my own boss. I delve into the things that interest me, support creative people, offer a stage for those starting out. And I even sell a few books along the way. It's a good life, really..."

It seemed significant that when summing up her life, she referred only to satisfaction in her business. There was no mention of her personal attachments. Sure, she had her brother close, but was that enough? I doubted it. But she didn't elaborate and unless I found a way round, I had the impression the subject was closed.

"And Uma? How is she doing? You mentioned she had changed..." I added, to try and give a justification for harping on again about her friend. Frankly I wasn't that interested. Any half wit could have worked that one out. A few years with the unreliable love rat, Murphy, would soon change a woman from open and optimistic to profound misanthropy. But I was learning things about Ann through this oblique line of questioning, as long as she didn't begin to suspect my reasons for this desire to know the ins and outs of Uma's private misfortunes.

Ann looked deflated somehow. Perhaps it was genuine concern for her friend. My question seemed to distress her. "Uma? Well, she's tried to be a good wife and he's tried to be the world's worse husband. I can't understand why she lets him treat her the way he does. She could have any man she chose...yet she falls for him? Okay, he's good looking and sexy, great in bed so she claims, but...does she have to love him so completely? He makes a fool of her. She breaks her heart crying in private but in public, she's developed this brittle exterior. She can be so rude to people - and those crazy stories of hers! It's her only escape valve. She's trapped and doesn't know what to do. I think she should divorce him. I convince her, she gets a lawyer and the next thing he's back, living off her again and spinning her some yarn. I can't believe how she lets herself fall for it! She's such a beautiful, talented woman! She could have anyone...!" That was the second time she had made that comment. What did it really mean? Uma could have loyal and faithful Ann but chose the dangerous charms of a snake like Murphy instead?

"It's probably just a matter of time," I said merely for something to say. "That marriage is on a slippery slope, anyone can see that. One day soon, she'll see the light and kick him out for good. There's bound to be another guy waiting in the wings to sweep her up. She's a beautiful woman and deserves a decent bloke..." Now perhaps we could leave that topic behind and move gently onto Ann and her state of mind. We were getting on fine. It was time to start talking about the two of us. Maybe I should get up; pull her into my arms for a dance or something? Diana Krall was playing in the background, perfect for smooching.

"Maybe you should discuss that with Uma then? I'm not entirely sure I should be talking about her private life to someone else. I hate gossiping..." Ann suddenly said. I looked across, surprised at the brittle tone in her voice. I tried for pleasant good humour to diffuse her discomfort.

"I'm sorry. It's just that my life's out there, you know? You've all seen my film, know my secrets. It feels like we're intimate but I actually know little about you both...I wasn't trying to pry. That wasn't my intent. I was just concerned, you know?"

Ann suddenly stood up, inexplicably flustered at my reply and began to clear the dishes. I rose to help her; she told me there was no need. "I hate to be a party pooper, Terry, but I have an early start in the morning..." she began.

I took my cue; her excuse was blatant. She wanted me out of there. It looked like Terry had either overstayed his welcome or probed a little too closely for Ann's comfort. I had blown it. Time to make a gracious retreat. The dinner date hadn't exactly been a disaster but it hadn't exactly fired into anything meaningful either.

Thus, I said my goodnights and took my leave, both of us promising that we must do it again sometime. It had been lovely. It was obvious she had no such intention.  I wasn't in a hurry to put myself through it again either. End of story.

As I drove back to the lodge, I gave the evening some thought. O'Brien had been telling the truth. Ann was in love with Uma - maybe even not consciously aware of the full extent of her emotional attraction though - and I had given her the impression that I was more interested in Uma than I actually was. Talking about her friend so much, instead of relaxing her guard had actually put her on edge. I think she had presumed I was going to make a move on Uma, taking advantage of Cullen's current bad behaviour. Ann feared that Uma would be more inclined thus to fall into my arms than hers. Jesus Christ, how had I read that one so wrong? Give me political idealism any day over female logic.

On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. I wanted much more from her than a one night stand, in truth. I wasn't interested in claiming notches on my bedpost. What I had hoped for was to touch base with a beautiful woman, see if we might walk down that road awhile or maybe even make something work for a change. Ann was never going to be in it for that. What was the point in kidding myself that I could make life be what I wanted it to be? Hadn't I just made the same damn mistake with Alice, building up her understandable need to cling to a strong rock in a stormy sea, into some great love affair?  It was better that I saw the writing on the wall from the get go. I might fancy Ann but I was nothing more than a passing interest to her.

I slammed my car door hard as I got out in the parking lot of the small inn. Come on, Terry, grow up, I thought to myself. You're a bit too old for tantrums. Smiling ruefully, I looked about me at this lovely spot of nature. It was a great place to be. There were interesting people and the potential for real friendship. Wasn't that a better way to start building a future than what I had known before? Perhaps I should just be thankful for what I had found. There would be other women if I just let life play its course. Fate had clearly stepped in. Maybe it was time to trust its instincts over my own?

I was away a great deal over the next few months, hardly finding time to get home to my apartment in the city, let alone up to the Big Sur to socialise with the Clan. I missed the arrival of John Nash even. Dino filled me in. He also told me all about the delicious Kathy Ginger, a kooky but delightfully bohemian free spirit who frequented the events at the book store from time to time. Apparently she had turned up for what she thought was a punk rock band called 'Equilibria' but turned out to be an erudite lecture on his Game Theory by one John Forbes Nash. Kathy was smitten, telling Dino that she would have turned out to watch Nash read out the telephone directory - and so the most unlikely relationship in the world began. Nash and Kathy are crazy about each other - good crazy in his case. I shook my head when I heard about it. How come some men find their way with women who would die for them without even trying while the rest of us just constantly crash and burn?

O'Leary's a bloody old woman when it comes to gossip. I found out from him when Murphy turned up after a three-month absence that he explained away as a run in repertory theatre in the Mid West (in actual fact he was in Angola). Absence must indeed make the heart grow fonder as Uma welcomed him back this time, tore up the preliminary divorce papers and even began talking about having a baby. I shuddered for the future of the world at their offspring.

I was actually contemplating a trip up to the happy hunting ground some weeks later, however, when the Twilight Zone came to visit me instead. Thus began a pivotal turn of events in my new life.

It went something like this:

Ten o'clock at night and I was settling down to watching rugby on BBC America with a pizza and a six pack of tinnies lined up. I was exhausted after a particularly nasty job, was enjoying being at home and just chilling out for a change. I hadn't shaved in two days, my hair was all over the place and I was wearing my Oz colours and a pair of washed out trackies. The door bell rang. No, that is not quite correct as a description.  To be accurate, someone leant on it with serious intent.  I was not best pleased. If this was O'Leary's idea of a joke...

"What the fuck is it?" I yelled as I pulled the door open. To find Uma standing there, pale and tearstained, but ready for battle.

She slapped my face. Good and hard. Who would have thought such a little skinny thing could deliver a backhand slice with top spin? My head rolled back; I staggered a few steps. "What the fuck...?"

That seemed to be the signal for full frontal attack. She positively sprang after me into my apartment, shut the door with force and launched into her verbal assault. "You absolute bastard! You complete tosser! How could you? All along you knew and you didn't say anything! I thought you were my friend! I should have known better. You're a man and men are all the same, totally unprincipled wankers who are incapable of treating any woman with respect. You can play act the White Knight and the girls can all faint at your feet but it's just a bloody sham. You're no different from the rest. And if I had that red haired friend of yours in the room as well, I would rip off his balls too! To think the two of you went along with it. For all this time! You utter bastard, Terry Thorne, shame on you! I can almost forgive Murphy and even O'Leary as I never expected anything much from either but you? I adored you! You were like everything a man should be. This feels like the ultimate betrayal of trust! The last straw that broke the camel's back. I should go join a fucking nunnery if this is all I've got to look forward to the rest of my life!!!"

Thankfully she had to stop eventually for air. I caught her hands as they waved around. There was no way I wanted another punch. "Calm down, Uma. I have no idea what you are talking about. What have I done? Please, start from the beginning, love, and give me a chance to catch up..."

"Love? Don't you 'love' me, you dickhead!" I anticipated her knee as she raised it, jumping back deftly to avoid a badly bruised groin. Thank Christ for martial arts training and fast reflexes. That was it. Picking her up, I carried her, wrestling and screaming, over to the couch, placed her face down gently and held her arms behind her back, putting my knee  firmly across her legs to hold her still. "LET ME GO!" she screamed.

"Not until you promise to stop hitting me."

She struggled awhile, muttering darkly, and then let her body go limp, the fight all out of her. I raised my leg; she sprang round ready to have another go. This time I threw my entire weight on her, pinning her beneath me. "I'm warning you, Uma. Stop it! I'm stronger than you and if you carry on like this, you're gonna get hurt..."

"Was that a threat? Are you threatening to beat me up?" she spat out. 

I groaned. "No, I am not planning on knocking you around. That seems to be your plan for me. However, I reserve the right to put you over my knee and tan your backside if you don't start acting your age. Now, can I defend myself in words of one syllable that you just might understand? Why are you mad at me? What am I supposed to have done?"

This time she did go quiet. Her body relaxed. She was panting heavily, her small pert breasts rising and falling, pressing against my chest. It felt strangely erotic. It was disturbingly intimate. Our bodies measured each other's length and our groins were worryingly close. I suddenly realised that the old fella was thinking all by himself. That's all I needed now. The crazy chick would no doubt accuse me of groping her or something if she felt my dick prodding her shapely thigh. "Can I let you go? Will you promise to act sanely if I do?" I needed to put some distance between us. These sweat pants were loose and I was commando. Christ knew what would happen if I didn't back off.

She nodded. It occurred to me she was winded and could hardly breathe anyway. It was surprising my weight on her hadn't killed her. She's all skin and bone. Well, actually she isn't when you get to feel her close at hand. Actually she's softer and rounder than her slim figure suggests. My mind began to wander. I forced it back and backed off tentatively. Thankfully this time she did not go for me.

"You gonna explain?"

She rubbed at her wrists and gasped for air. "Can I have a drink of water, please?" she asked meekly in a little girl voice. I prayed she wouldn't start crying. I think I preferred rage to that. I'd be totally stuffed if she broke down. You know what I'm like with sobbing women.

To remove myself from impending danger, I busied myself in fetching her a glass of cold water. I dithered about wondering whether she would prefer mineral or tap, sparkling or stilled, slice of lemon? Lime? Ice, perhaps? Then I shook indecision from me and got her a small glass of water from the tap. The woman had just tried to crush my nuts. She could make do with any old thing.

Back in the room, she was sitting up and looking about her, as if she had only just realised where she was. I offered her the glass, she took it and sipped. "Uma? Have you just driven down from the Sur in that state?"

She nodded again. I sighed. It was a wonder she hadn't gone off the road. "Does anyone know you're here?"

She shook her head.

I bit my lip. "Mind telling me why you showed up at my door ready to kill me?"

Uma sniffed wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. I took the cue, found her a tissue; she blew her nose loudly and whimpered. "You knew about Cullen. He works for you. All this time you've been laughing my back..."

I took a deep breath. "No one was laughing, sweetheart. Yeah, I knew. But what good would it have done to tell you? I've spoken to him. Dino's spoken to him. Maximus threatened to rip his balls off with his bare hands if he didn't come clean and start treating you right - but it wasn't our place to break your heart. We kept quiet so as not to hurt you. It wasn't about male solidarity covering up his bad behaviour..."

"Do you know a woman called Elise Bowen?" Uma interrupted.

I stopped speaking. Elise works for us, too. She's a pretty tough cookie, a former CIA field agent. Runs our training programme out of the San Francisco office. She's blonde, blue eyed and built like an Amazon. The men lust after her quite shamelessly but she keeps her private life private. I had no idea if she was with anyone or not.  We had flirted around but nothing more than that. Frankly, I prefer my women feminine and helpless. Elise frightens the bejesus out of me. "Yeah, sure. I know Elise," I replied hesitantly, already working out what had to be coming next.

"Did you know she was getting engaged?"

"Engaged?" I repeated mindlessly.

"Yes, apparently Cullen has proposed - and she has decided to accept. No ring yet, but it's on the cards. So she thinks. I answered his cell phone when he went out for more condoms. I'm off the pill, you see. We were planning on trying for a baby. Can you imagine that? I was actually going to give birth to that bastard's bastard! Luckily we decided to wait a few months...So we had to use rubbers and we ran out...he rushed out to the store in a state of embarrassment which is why I answered his phone..." Uma seems incapable of telling a story without adding in extremely unwanted extraneous detail. I could have done without the condoms and the image of a rampant Murphy on a mission to buy frangers.

"Let me get this straight. Murphy went out and forgot his phone. Elise called him. She subsequently told you she was his fiancée? Is that what you're saying?"

Uma made a clicking noise in her throat. "Well, she didn't actually put it like that! She said 'who the fuck are you?'  I answered: 'Who the fuck are you, darlin'? So she tells me she's some GI Jane from Thorne O'Leary. I said, what's Cullen got to do with Terry's firm? She laughs and tells me he works for them, didn't I know? Didn't I bloody well know? He's my bloody husband and some butch tart tells me what he does for a living? First, she told me about working with him - at your firm! Then she starts on about being his lover - and who was I anyway? She asked was I the client's wife or something.  Client's wife? I told her to go fuck herself....I thought she was crazy  So we traded a few insults until I aced her claim to that worthless sack of  Irish shit. She goes: 'I'm his fiancée, honey. I replied: Raise you one, sweetie, I'm his bloody wife...!' That shut the muscle bound tart up..." I can imagine the actual exchange was somewhat more colourful on both sides, knowing the propensities for combat of both these ladies.

"I didn't know about this, Uma. Had I known he was dating someone in the office, I would have sacked him, I assure you. If it's any consolation, Elise will kill him for you. She's a very competent martial arts aficionado...he has to be completely crazy to try this on her..."

"He is crazy. There is something definitely wrong with him. I just hung up, bashed his fucking phone repeatedly against the wall - and left. I didn't dare speak to him then. I just couldn't face him. I'm sorry, Terry. Somehow it was easier to blame everyone else. But it wasn't your fault. I just wish someone had warned me. I could have got pregnant! Imagine that? Jesus, even Maximus knew?" She shook her head in disbelief. Maximus is like some kind of God to her.  I think it hurt her quite as much to have been let down by him as her no good husband.

She sighed deeply. I felt like a complete shit. She should have been informed of his career. We had failed her there.

"I've been keeping him, you know? All this time he earns mega bucks for you, and he makes out like he's stony broke? How could he lie to me like that? He knows my business isn't doing well. He could have helped me. Why is he such a shit? All I ever did was to love him..." Uma murmured almost to herself. It was a shocking revelation. I had no idea he had been sponging off her so blatantly.

"He gambles a lot. It's a problem we've been keeping an eye on. There was always the danger he might get himself out of his depth, open himself up to blackmail...but I thought he used to buy you expensive things...I didn't realise he wasn't supporting you..."

She nodded. "He did. When he had cash he would shower me with jewellery and designer clothes, all that sort of flamboyant excess. Then he would show up skint. So I would sub him.  I put it down to his artistic temperament. Artistic? Is he really an ex-Marine? What bloody army would put up with a head case like him?"

I smiled. "You'd be surprised. They're mostly crazy, especially the super soldiers. Do you want me to go talk to him? I will do if you want. This time he's gone too far..."

She shook her head. "No. It's over. I don't even want to speak to him again. This time I am never going to relent. I want a divorce and I want him out of my life permanently. I shouldn't have brought you into it. You're everything he's not and do not deserve to be pulled into our shitty marriage problems. I'm sorry I hit you. That was unforgivable. I just lost it. Totally...God, your lip's bleeding...." Her hand reached out to caress my cheek, wiping away a trickle of blood where her ring had nicked the corner of my mouth. She looked up at me, large eyes full of tears, hopeless dejection written all over her lovely face. I licked away the blood.

Something shifted between us. I can't quite recall how it happened.

But the next thing I know we were kissing. Really kissing. Deep, wet, tongue exploration, hands tangled in each other's hair, falling back onto the couch, our bodies wrapped around, reaching for each other. It was intense. It was typical of me. I hold back and hold back - and then when I go off, I just lose all sense of time or place.

It's a wonder we didn't take it much further. Some sense prevailed, thank God. I dragged myself from her, still soaked in her taste and scent. She smelled so good. She tasted so good. Her body was lithe and sinuous, soft and willing. It would have been so easy to have taken her there and then. I doubt she would have stopped me. Every vibe she was giving out was saying: "YES!"

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I don't know what happened..." I protested as I sat up running a hand back through my hair. Her blouse was open, her bra askew. I averted my eyes from her exposed breast, a tantalising peaked nipple beckoning for my kiss. Uma lay panting, observing me.

"Don't apologise. There's no need. I wanted to kiss you too. I've always wanted to kiss you, to be honest. It wasn't your fault..."

I let that information sink in. "Nevertheless, this is not fair on you. You need support not advantage taking. Perhaps you should go..."

She sat, fastening up her shirt. "Yeah, I suppose I should. I'm grateful for your help, Terry...but I should go. You're right..."

I ran my hands down my face. "I can't send you back like this! You want me to drive you? I don't think you're in a fit state at the moment..."

She shook her head as she gathered her purse and put on her shoes. "I can't face going back just yet. I'll go to a hotel for a few days. Get my head sorted..." she made for the door.

"No. You shouldn't be alone. Listen, stay here. I won't get in your way. But I'm here for you if you need me. Make yourself at home. Take the spare room. Long as you need. It's the least I can do..." I smiled hopefully, suddenly wanting her to stay.

She nodded back shyly. "Is that pizza up for grabs? And you're missing the rugby..." It had been playing with the sound off in the background.

"You want to share? Here, help yourself to a tinnie..." I threw her a beer. She caught it with a smile and then set to work on a slice of pizza. She likes Rugby. Knows the game, too. Used to date a player, she said, and then clammed up in that odd way she has of telling you what you don't want to know but never what you do. I filed that one away for later.

It was midnight when we said goodnight. I showed her the spare room, gave her a few towels and a T-shirt of mine to wear in bed. I backed away. She flung her arms round me and kissed me softly. "Don't be embarrassed! A kiss is a really nice way of making a girl feel good. It's okay, Terry. Truly, it is. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well..."

Actually I did sleep well. Better than in a long time. I lay for a while on my folded arms thinking about her and realised something. I had always found Uma attractive but her status as a married woman had put a great big fence around my feelings. Cullen Murphy's final mistake had just blasted a great big hole right through it. Uma had more or less admitted she was attracted to me too. The kiss had proved it anyway. That had been returned - and then some. I was finished with playing the White Knight. This time I was playing for myself. Come tomorrow.

The next day dawned. Uma joined me in the kitchen freshly showered, her hair still damp; we ate pastries and drank strong coffee, chatting amicably as if the night before had never happened. Murphy was not mentioned. I suggested we went out and explored the city together. She eagerly accepted. We walked for hours, finally taking a cab to the Wharf and enjoying a lazy lunch in the sunshine, drinking a little too much chilled Chablis. It was a long time since I had felt this relaxed.

Inside, Uma is a very different person than the one she shows to the world. Ann had been right. It felt like a privilege to be allowed to see the real woman. She's smart and funny and spontaneous; her heart is warm and her smile is wide. When we finally got up from the table, it seemed a natural progression to hold her hand and wander around the shops and waterfront.  We made a passable impression of a couple idling away a pleasant Saturday afternoon. We looked at yachts, choosing the one we wanted, naming it and planning a voyage together. We were like two kids playing hooky from the real world, locked in a fantasy that neither of us wanted to break.

We jumped a cable car, rode it to the terminal and then back again. We loped through ethnic markets browsing through curios. In a quiet alleyway, I kissed her again, a gentle touch of my lips on hers. She murmured in appreciation, and asked me for another. Then she whispered: 'Take me home..."

"The Phoenix?" I muttered.

She laughed seductively, cool fingers running down my spine, warm blood rising in my loins. "Home...your place...I want you so bad, Terry..."

We could barely restrain ourselves in the cab home, making out like kids, unconcerned who saw us. I dragged her along the corridor to my apartment; we fell in and began ripping at each other's clothes.

 That's where I'm closing the door on this. I don't write erotica. What happens between a man and woman alone is private. I'll leave it to her to tell you some day.  But I will say this. It was good. Damn good. Felt like we'd been made for each other. So many things seemed to slot into place that afternoon - and I am not talking body parts. This woman was something special and I couldn't believe we had overlooked each other as long as we had.

But no more. In one crazy day we had gone from distant friends to intimate lovers. This time, I was making sure I got the girl. 

Sunlight streaming through the open curtains woke me up. We'd been in bed for hours, loving, talking, sleeping, loving some more. I was stiff - in more ways than one - Uma was sprawled out on me, her head nestled in the crook of my arm. I eased her away, watching her sleep. She's so pretty, so delicate, so fragile. I wanted to wrap her up and show her the sort of love that she's been missing. I want some of her love for me, too. God knows, she proved her constancy with Murphy. Imagine what she would give a man who loved her back?

My euphoria didn't last long, however. Those old feelings of insecurity were soon tapping me on the shoulder. I remembered that night with Alice. Would Uma act the same in the light of a new day? What had seemed a good idea the night before might very well seem to be the worst thing imaginable this morning.

Then she woke, stirring sleepily, rubbing at her eyes and burrowing down beneath the covers. Her hand reached out and gave me a message that didn't need any words. She made a moue of approval. "I remember this..." she whispered huskily.

There was no shocked protestations of innocence, no accusations that I had taken advantage, no tears. Uma was exactly the same as the night before. We made love lazily, laughing as our tender flesh burned. Even through rubber, we had made a lasting impression on each other. She claimed the bed smelt like Silverstone after a Grand Prix time lap - and how she loved the aroma of burning rubber.

In the shower, we washed each other, talked and planned where we went from here. She said she was taking a week off. I asked her did she fancy Jamaica? She whooped and said: Montego Bay? I booked flights and a suite at Silent Waters while she called Ann to say she was going home to see her mother. Then she told Paul the truth but swore him to secrecy. I was surprised at her choices.

"Why lie to Ann?" I asked.

Uma shook out her damp hair and settled in my lap at the kitchen table, feeding me slices of mango. "It's a bit awkward. Considering how she feels about you, I mean."

"Huh?" I replied as she stuffed another slice in. "Whaddya mean?"

Uma tutted. "Men! She's crazy about you, Terry! She thought you liked her that time you asked her out. She went to such lengths to cook a meal to impress. She's never been much of a one for cooking and other feminine things like that..."

"Well, seeing as she's butch, that's hardly surprising," I offered with a grin. Uma pulled back.

"Butch? Ann? What are you on about? She doesn't like cooking 'cos she's not much good at it. Pretty much like me. I'm a total disgrace in the kitchen, too. You shall live to regret my cooking one of these days soon, if it doesn't kill ya first!" she added ominously. "...Anyway, she worked all day to get that right. Andy gave her loads of tips and made the dessert. And you just ate it and spent the whole evening talking about me! It wasn't very sensitive of you, Terry. She had really thought you fancied her..."

"I did fancy her!" I defended myself. "I went round with the intention of..." I stopped. I couldn't exactly say I went round with the intention of getting laid. It sounded pretty cheap. "I went round with the intention of having a nice romantic evening with a woman to whom I was attracting, hoping that maybe she felt the same and..."

"You went round hoping to get laid?" Uma gasped. "Well, why the hell didn't you make a pass then? She was on the phone for hours after you left. She said it was obvious you'd only asked her out to pump her for information about me, trying to see if I was really going to dump Cullen this time...why didn't you just kiss her like you did with me then?" She asked bluntly. Uma is not one to mince her words.

"I would have done but she asked me to leave. Said she had an early start in the morning....Look, Uma, I think you've got it all wrong. Ann's not interested in me, love. She's interested in you. I'm not saying she exactly gay, maybe bi-sexual, or she might not even be out of the closet yet but..."

"You what? You think she's gay? Ann? Are you stark staring mad? Ann? Gay?" Uma exclaimed - and then the penny dropped. "Have you been talking to that bloody O'Brien? Or Hando? Those stupid wankers think it's funny to make up crap like that. Terry! Surely you didn't fall for it? My God! I simply cannot believe you let them shine you on! Damn! Just wait until I see them again! No more beers on tick for Colin. He can bloody well pay up his account or I'll bar him this time!"

I was stunned. Ann was not interested in Uma. All along she had been after me. And I had spent the whole bloody night talking about her best friend? No wonder she had seemed distressed. Was I a complete moron?

"But even so, Terry, you did go on about me. I mean, even if you did fancy her, it wouldn't have been very nice if she was just the fill in while you waited for Murphy to get the boot, now would it? It was probably for the best in the end that you didn't start anything..." Uma rattled on.

I could hardly tell her that had I successfully romanced Ann back then, this little affair of ours would not be taking place. Not that I was still carrying a torch for Ann. Time had healed that fledgling emotion - and we had both moved on. I was falling in love with the best friend after all. Fate has its own mysterious ways of working things out.

"...So, I can't tell her the truth now, can I? She still drools over you. Imagine how she would feel if she knew about us? It would really break her heart...Like a kick in the face..."

"She's gonna find out one day..." I warned her.

Uma gave that some thought. "I know but give me time to prepare her. I can't just drop this on her. One minute I'm crying over Murphy and the next I'm rolling naked in your sheets? I think that would be a tad too much for anyone..."

So, we decided to keep quiet, at least for the time being. 

We had our week in Montego Bay and, by the end of it, we were very much in love. It had been an idyllic time, long lazy days in the sun, fooling about in the water, walking along white sand beaches arm in arm, laughing and talking, getting to know each other as a man and woman should. The warm balmy evenings were spent in beautiful alfresco restaurants or in smoky reggae bars, or in loud and noisy nightclubs, letting our proverbial hair down - then back to our room for mind blowing sex.

I'm a pretty passionate bloke when unleashed. Uma's an extremely instinctual woman. The combination of our two natures was electric. I've rarely known sex like it. No holds barred, experimental, endlessly innovative - and yet, romantic, erotic, emotional, intense. She blew my mind. I rocked her world. It seemed to make all the intervening years of loneliness make sense. This had been waiting for me all along. I should have trusted in my karma. I was a decent guy. In the end everything comes to he who waits.

One morning, lying on our private veranda, stark bollock naked on a large sunbed eating breakfast and wrapped up in each other, Uma sat up, straddling me, whilst trying to throw raspberries into my open mouth. She is so easy in her body, loves to be naked, without the hang ups women usually have about their bodies. Mostly because she is flawless, slender and beautifully formed, like a glorious nymph: soft satin skin, smooth flat planes, agile expressive limbs. I stretched out like a satisfied lion, my hands firm on her tiny rump. She was so small against my bulk. Sometimes I'd be scared I'd break her - but she simply laughed and begged for more. I adored her. Utterly. I was her slave.

"I've got to get back to the bar," she mused thoughtfully. "I wish I could hide here forever with you, but...I can't leave it any longer."

I agreed. I had to be back, too. Dino was holding the fort alone. I could imagine he was furiously trying to contact me. I had told him nothing when I left but that something had come up and I was going away for a while. I had then taken the unprecedented step of turning off my cell phone for the entire week. I had not opened any mails since I arrived. He was probably in a state of near apoplexy by now. "I've got a shit load of work piling up as well. You go straight up to Big Sur.  I'll stay in the city and join you at the weekend....by then we should have prepared everyone enough for the big reveal..."

Uma frowned. "I think we should still keep it secret. I've not even filed for divorce yet! Cullen's such a tosser that if he gets wind, he'll name you. I don't want you brought into this. Imagine how it will sound in court? He would really play on that. Poor guy, betrayed by the wife who ran off with his own boss? You know he can look so innocent when he wants to..."

I wasn't having that. "The guy's a serial womaniser! There are dozens of people who would testify to that. And who gives a damn anyway? It isn't like you have any kids or anything..."

"I have my business. He would take half. You know he would..."

"He'd have to maintain you..."

"Cullen would give up the day job and plead poverty to get at me. You have no idea how vindictive the little shit can be when he wants to. He won't take this lying down, you know? He might have run around after every skirt in town, but he will never accept me with another man. He's like that. Your usual alpha male. Much like you, I would imagine. What would you do if you saw me with another man?"

I didn't reply. I'm a jealous bastard. Other men near my woman? Not gonna happen, mate. Murphy was lucky I didn't give him the benefit of my fists then next time I see him. With any luck the statuesque Elise would have done it for me by now.

"...and then there's the matter of Ann, of course..." It was decided. For the time being we kept this to ourselves.

Actually there was a certain excitement about the whole clandestine lovers set up. I'd drive up at the weekend, sit at the bar chewing the fat with the guys, one eye firmly on Uma as she moved about the place purposely positioning that sweet little arse of hers to torment me. I'd be imagining pulling off her lace thongs with my teeth later and burying my face in her sweetness. Oh man, it was all I could do to sit on a stool and keep my wits about me, pretending to be interested in the latest sports news.

When the evening was over, I'd make my way to the Lodge. Shortly afterwards a soft tap on the door would announce Uma's arrival. Then we'd be on each other like two starving people in the desert stumbling on the only oasis for miles around. It was a pretty good job the owners of the inn were discreet. I doubt we fooled them though, not the amount of noise we both made. But no one else seemed to cotton on to what we were up to. Uma treated me with a friendly distance; I was easy and polite with her in public. It seemed to increase the lust we felt for each other and heighten the ecstasy of our private moments. I knew it couldn't go on for ever like this, but when something feels so good, why change it? I was going to wait until her divorce was final and then pop the question myself. I wanted a home and babies. She did, too. At heart, she was a conventional woman who wanted the same as everyone else. It was time a man gave her all she deserved. Everything I had was hers already in truth. All the things that mattered, anyhow.

Paul knew. He kept the faith. I suspect he told Jeff. They're very close and that's as it should be. I don't know their full story although Uma has told me as much as she knows. It seems they met in Sydney when Paul was working there at some famous gay bar. They had a tempestuous affair and then it all foundered badly. Jeff had apparently slept with Paul's sister when she was over on a visit. It seemed out of character for Jeff to be unfaithful somehow. I suspect the story is more complex than that. Now, Paul I could imagine doing something wild from time to time - but Jeff simply isn't the type to betray his lover's trust

Uma thinks Paul had probably been fucking around and Jeff got angry - and somehow the sister got into the mix. Paul, however, was furious when it came out - his sister, too - and he walked. Time passed. Jeff finally tracked him down and found that he was living here, working for Uma. Jeff turned up - and discovered that the sister had left Paul literally holding the baby - which appears to be Jeff's - and somehow the pair got it together again.

It's like a bloody soap opera with a touch of the paranormal thrown in for good measure. How the hell did Paul lead Jeff here? Everyone here seems to have these odd connections. It reminds me of a line of dominoes, all falling one by one, in a long chain. Uma says it's fate. I never used to believe in such things. Now, however, I am finding myself open to persuasion. Their little nipper is running around now. He's called Joey, bright as a button, a real little boy. With gay parents and the Twilight Zone for a home? If that works then you have to be prepared to believe in almost anything.

Dino knows there's a woman somewhere. He says he can tell it from the way I walk. I refuse to take the bait. He's no fool though. Personally I think he worked it out very quickly. He won't have much problem putting two and two together.  I refuse all overseas work unless strictly necessary. I spend my weekends propping up the bar at the Phoenix and I sent Cullen Murphy on an extended trip to Liberia. But Dino has not come out and accused me of anything, I'll give him that. He even seems to be pleased for me.

So the months went on. I was more sure with every passing day that this was the big one. I had even been checking out rings and thinking about real estate. Obviously we would stay in the area when the time came, but I wanted a decent place for her, something spectacular with a breathtaking view - and suitable for kids. I could see us, a couple of years down the line, crazy laughter-filled days with a couple of sprogs and Uma like a little child herself bringing them up in her own muddled fashion.

I've always been a dreamer inside. I have often been deluded.

But never as much as this time. I swear, when my world fell through, I didn't think I would make it this time. I didn't actually know until then that your heart can break. It isn't just a metaphor.

The end began with a job I couldn't refuse. It was a favour for an important client who wanted me to handle this sensitive case myself. Uma was a little tearful at the thought of a long separation. I told her I would try to keep it as short as possible. But short still meant thirteen weeks - and that's a bloody long time to be apart.  Unlucky number thirteen, hey? Maybe I'm even getting superstitious these days as well.

Finally we managed a satisfactory resolution after difficult and protracted negotiations. I was so eager to get back to Uma that I took the first plane home. I didn't even call her. I had decided just to walk in to the bar, see her face and then let the whole damn world know that we were in love. I'd even bought the ring, carrying it round in my inner pocket for weeks like a little bit of her always with me.

The last ten days we had hardly any contact. I was out of range of anything but a Satphone a lot of the time and the time difference was not in our favour. The occasional brief mail was all we had. When I could face reading those letters over again, I realised I should have seen the signs if I had been keeping my eyes open. There had been a reserve in even the brief exchanges, a formality that was nothing like Uma's normal spontaneous style. She must have been composing them carefully, trying to find a way to tell me but not wishing to be so cruel as to do it in an impersonal mail or phone call. If I had only called her to say I was on my way home, I believe she would have come to me and explained. Man, it would still have killed me, but it would have spared me the pain of what I walked into.

And it might just have stopped me from hating her for so long. I'm not sure she really deserved that.

So, what happened? I walked into the bar at the height of an evening session. The place was buzzing. My heart was beating like a bit of a kid on his prom date with the prettiest girl in the school.

Then I was hit by a million darts ripping into my flesh, tearing at my self-esteem, leaving my heart in bleeding pieces.

Uma was sitting on the bartop with Cullen Murphy standing before her. They were kissing and fooling about. She laughed, her head thrown back at something he said; he nuzzled against the hollow of her throat, his arms round her waist. It looked like a man and woman lost in their love for each other. I'm not sure how I kept it together.

Paul noticed me standing there, like petrified marble, unable to think, let alone react.  My brain was almost refusing to take in what it was seeing.  At the peripheral of my vision, Paul nudged Jeff who slipped off his stool, pulling on my arm, dragging me towards the door. "Steady on, mate. Not here. This is not a good time or place, Terry. Let's get out of here. Give her a chance to explain..."

I shrugged off his arm, swore profanely under my breath and walked forward, back in the direction of the bar.

That's when she saw me. The colour drained away from her skin; her lips soundlessly murmured my name. She looked scared. I think my face must have frightened her.

Or maybe it was her guilt?

"...Oi, boss, you back? Let me buy you a beer and give you the good news. My wife and I have put our troubles behind us. From now on all of them will be little ones...I'm a reformed character...Gonna be a daddy...We're expecting a baby....can you believe that?"

I swallowed hard, found a professional smile from somewhere in my arsenal, resisted the overwhelming urge to smash his teeth down his throat and nodded, mumbling some trite congratulations. All the while I watched her. She never took her eyes off me. I could hear the crap he was spouting, see the people around but it was as if they were all in another dimension to us. In the eye of the storm, Uma and I were silent and transfixed at the sight of each other. I have no idea why the others didn't see what must have been so clearly visible.

Then she fainted. Cullen caught her as she crumpled, swinging her up into his arms, whispering gently as he asked everyone to move back. She needed air. He carried her off to the office at the back. I threw back the double malt and grimaced.

I waited until he came back out. She was fine, just a little overcome and nauseous. She was lying down in the back, he said. I waited some more. People crowded back round the bar. I took my chance. There was no way I was not going to confront her tonight.

Uma was lying on a couch in the office, her hand over her eyes. As I walked in, she stirred. "Cullen...?"

"No. Not Cullen. The other mug you just shafted..." I replied. Uma shot up, backing away from me like she was scared I would hurt her.

"Oh, Terry! Why didn't you call? This is not how I meant for you to find out...!" she protested. It just made me even angrier. I was a wounded animal and she was the cause of my pain.

"How were you planning on telling me then? Meet me at the Lodge, fuck me boneless and then give me the kiss off? You sure know how to wrap Terry Thorne round your little finger, don't you? Forgive me if I spoiled your little farewell scene...."

"Terry! I didn't mean for this to happen! It's just that, well he came back. He was so messed up, so pathetic, so contrite! I've never seen him like this.  Not as bad as this ever! He cried, said he was a broken man without me. I didn't believe him at first but...for God's sakes, Terry, he's my husband! I owe him at least the chance to listen to what he had to say...!"

"You owed him fuck all! He's cheated and lied since the day you met. The piece of paper means shit to him and it should mean nothing to you by now either. He's fucking you over again - and this time he's done it big time. How could you be so stupid? How could you be so damn callous? I love you. I would give you everything I have. And you throw me over for that little bastard?"

"Terry! I...I...love him...I always have...I care about you, too. I love you too... in my way... but..."

"...but not as much as you love him, huh? Not when it comes down to it? I must be walking round with some big sign saying 'Mug' hanging round my neck. You didn't want to go public because you always hoped he would come back, didn't you? That crap about Ann was just an excuse! I was just the transition man to keep you warm while you waited for Murphy to roll back into town. You never meant a single thing you said, did you? Not even about your good friend Ann. You used me all the while knowing I could have tried again with her, knowing she still cared about me. Had a chance with a  woman who just might have loved me back. Instead, you used me to get at your husband. Or was that what you were afraid of all along? That he would find out?  Unless maybe that was the original plan? Yeah, that makes sense. He fucks you over with one of my employees so you take your revenge and fuck him over with the boss...you bloody little user..."

Uma was shocked by what I was saying; I could see it on her face. At first she seemed unable to frame a response. Then: "I swear that is not true! I fell for you. I always liked you. You were there for me and I fell for you...!"

"Don't you dare say you love me ever again..." I countered.

"I never actually did say that I loved you, Terry..." she suddenly exclaimed coolly. "I mean, you just presumed..."

Her comment stopped me dead. "I presumed? Forgive me for being so presumptuous but did we not talk about setting up a home together, marriage one day? Babies?  And you think it's presumptuous of me to imagine that meant love?" Something occurred to me just then. "Baby? You're pregnant? Is he the father? Is Cullen Murphy really the father...?" I took a step forward. "Or am I?"

Her deathly pallor became even whiter at that remark. She spluttered out her response. "It's Cullen's. At least, it must be. I'm almost sure...my periods were fucked after I went off the pill...but, it has to be his. I think. Mostly you and I used rubbers..."

"Mostly. But not all the time...You're planning to pass this baby off as his? I wonder what he'd say if I went back in there and told him the truth? That you and I've been fucking like rabid dogs for months...and that you're 'not really sure of your bloody dates'...But you think he might be the daddy..."

"NO! Please, Terry! Don't tell him! He'll never forgive me! It's got to be his! I'm sure it's his! I think I would know if it wasn't..."

"You shameless little bitch...you know no such thing...you just hope it's his. Don't worry. I won't tell him. I don't give a fuck if it's mine.  I don't want anything more to do with you ever again - and that includes this baby. Just don't try getting me for child support down the line...I'll bloody kill you myself if you ever try that one on...." I had to stop, my voice was cracking up. When I found it again it was gravel, rasping and raw. I was as close to tears as I had been in years. Uma was openly crying, silent tears running down her face, her arms held out in some pathetic gesture as if begging me for forgiveness.

"He'll break your heart..." I warned her. "He'll meet some other woman and leave you with the baby... and I'll be glad when he does. Then you'll know how I feel today. But just remember this, the next time he leaves you bleeding, don't come knocking on my door. My shoulder is not open to you anymore. I don't give a fuck about what happens to either of you from now on. Keep the fuck out of my life..."

I walked out, left her weeping helplessly, crashing through the kitchen where Andy, who had obviously heard the entire exchange, was staring at me wide-eyed. I knocked him back against the wall, spitting in his face. "You keep your fucking mouth shut! One word of this gets out and I swear I will..."

He nodded, holding his hands up. "...It's cool, Terry. I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't anyway...Jesus, you and Uma? It's a freaking nightmare..." he muttered. I flung him away from me, made for the door and slammed it behind me.

I don't remember the drive home. I do remember the constant shaking however. I couldn't get warm. It was the shock. I was in complete and total shock. My life, my wonderful new life, the future I had dreamed about that had seemed right there in my hand had just collapsed around me. Everything had been a sham. Uma had never loved me.  All along I had just been the protection she needed until she got her husband back. I had built up a fantasy again just like with Alice - but this time a whole lot more destructive.

I downed a bottle of Scotch and fell asleep rolled up in the sheets in a bed that still seemed to smell of her. Everything I had reminded me of her. The next morning, I flew out of America and never came back for almost a year. Time eventually healed me. I grew a steelier carapace. I changed. Never again would a woman get under my skin. I no longer wished to be a White Knight. The Black Knight's armour suited me a whole lot better. If I wanted a woman, I took her. They got their fair share out of me in return. But I walked away every time. It felt obscenely liberating when they cried.

I remember distinctly the day I finally came back. It was an afternoon, quiet and peaceful. There was no one around in the bar or restaurant. I heard a little child crying out back somewhere. I wondered idly if this was the baby. Maybe even my baby? I no longer had any interest. Not even curiosity. Then the child ran in. It was Joey. A sturdy three year old who stopped and looked me up and down thoughtfully. "Are you new?" he asked.

I laughed at the question. "No, mate. I'm pretty old actually. Where's your Dad?"

"I've got two dads. Paul's in the back with Auntie Uma..." I felt a cold chill down my spine. Maybe I wasn't as ready as I had thought if even the mention of her name could bring back the old memories.

Just then Paul entered the bar. He came over, told Joey to go into the back and finish his snack. The little boy did as he was told. "Good to see you, Terry. We've missed you."

"Yeah, I've missed you too. About as much as bullet in the gut," I responded uncharitably.

He ignored my remark. "You heard what happened?"

I shook my head. 

"She lost the baby. Then she lost him. Or rather I think he lost her. She's had a hard time. Don't blame her too much."

I nodded. "I hope it was extremely painful." I added petulantly. Actually I didn't mean that at all. Another emotion had surged in my stomach at the news that even Dino had kept from me. I felt pity. For us both. What a fucking pathetic waste it had all been. Where happiness could have been, there was nothing now but bitter and twisted ruins.

 But I least Uma had taught me one thing. About fate. You can't escape it in the end. Karma's a bitch, love. I think I got off lightly compared to her. Losing a child is a terrible thing. I know. I lost my son.

 There is something off kilter about this place. Second chance? Isn't that what Maximus had suggested.  I don't think so. It's more like Purgatory. An extended time in the fires to pay for what you did the first time round. Well, in the final analysis, she lost more than I did. But I take no comfort in that any more. I can't, you see. Pain and pleasure are both lost on me. I've been purged of the capacity to feel, you see. Here I am.  The new improved Terry Thorne.

The one who got away.