1. Dumped by Master Bates

CHAPTER ONE

Making the decision to leave your job is the easy part, but telling your boss, is another story. Having woken in the small hours the panic set in. As I lay awake, I replayed the scenario over and over in my head. Why is leaving such torture!!!
Today I am handing in my notice, leaving my job and perhaps, but it’s highly unlikely, am about to make the biggest mistake of my life. As customer services manager, my life was pretty cushy. Good money, company benefits and a great team, so the decision for me to leave was not an easy one. But it’s not forever. It’s for six glorious sun-soaked sizzling months on a brilliant white, easily detectable from Google earth, luxury cruise liner. Okay, so I might be going to work, but that is all part of the adventure. With my hopeless fear of flying temporarily pushed to the side, I am about to fly to the other side of the world, sail my way around the glaciers in Alaska, then squeeze my way down through the Panama canal and spend the rest of my six month contract in the sun soaked Caribbean.

‘A what?.’ ‘What on earth are you thinking Virginia?’Mother had asked, when I broke the news over the phone, ‘A bloody cocktail waitress,’ she shrieked. ‘Have you lost the plot?’ So, that didn’t go so well. I can understand really and she did have a point. I was giving up a good career. But what does mum know? She’s never travelled further than Devon, has been married to the same man for 26 years and has never suffered from the broken heart that I am so desperate to mend.

Tony had been my partner for three years and up until a short while ago had consumed my whole life. Inseparable, but like chalk and cheese no-one would have put us together. My pale Celtic skin and wild titian curls, below average height which demoted my figure from slim to curvy. He was dark, tall and unattractive, but love is blind. If you like Joaquin Phoenix then you would have loved Tony. I was the upbeat chatty one and Tony the observer, until he had a drink of course, then he wouldn’t stop talking and that was the Tony that I first met.

‘Chapters’ was a popular bar in town and where I first met Tony. I was celebrating a friend’s birthday when Tony and his friend’s had sidled over. He never left my side for the rest of the evening and made sure I got in a taxi at the end of the night. He was definitely not my type, not that I really had a type, what I mean is that he wasn’t good looking. But three months later after lots of calls, texts, flowers, poems, notes, drinks and persistence, he grew on me and three months after that, he moved in.

So, his persistence had finally paid off. The worst part of all of this is that I really wasn’t interested in him and without wanting to appear shallow, I lowered the bar and let him in. His persistence had misled me into a false sense of security. It was unimaginable that he could ever meet someone else let alone leave me when he had spent so much time and energy into capturing my affections. This was a real slap in the face.

My friends, I know, used to just tolerate him. His ability to talk about himself and the job that he didn’t have and that he never intended to have was impressive. They were polite for my sake. Unless the conversation was directed towards him then he just wasn’t interested. As time went on invitations were reduced to funerals, the only place where Tony was suitably stale. This was not the same person that won me over three years earlier.

Finally, Tony got a job. Hooray. Good times. We could plan, decorate, go on holiday. Wrong. He had only been there a short time when things started to change. This particular evening I had run him a bath, ready for his return home. This may seem a rather nice thing to do for your loved one, but I had only one selfish intention in mind. Our sex life had dwindled to the spooning position as we slept, so it was desperate measures to get back that contact again.

We had gotten past the initial promises that couples make to one another in the early stages of relationships, the things that he longs to do to you and the things you promise to do for him. This is what happens in the beginning to seal the relationship. Some people see it as trickery, but I think that ‘seal’ is a fairer word. Rubbing the feet, the shoulders, making the meals and then the noisy, this is so good (I could puke) blowjob. Don’t get me wrong. There were times when I enjoyed the intimacy and the giving, but when the passionate kiss, the one and only kiss is over and the pressure from their size seven mitt is on the top of your head, pushing you under the duvet, everything changes. The token massage felt more like he was using his hand as a paint brush. Forget about the light at the end of the tunnel, there is no light at the end of a twenty-tog winter quilt.

So, this perfect evening was all planned. Tony arrived home from work in a cheery kind of mood. He walked in the door, stripped off his overall and flung it in no particular direction before kissing me lovingly on the head. Perhaps ‘lovingly’ is romanticizing the scene somewhat, but it was enough for me to get a sudden stab of hope for the evening ahead. So there I was rushing around trying to make everything perfect in the hope that we would end up in bed shagging each other’s brains out. I would pamper him with his favourite expensive bath essence. The bathroom itself was transformed from the sterile ceramic place that it is to a scene from the Arabian Nights, with candles flickering all over the room. His bathrobe was behind the door and a glass of wine would later be produced, once he has totally relaxed back against the inflatable breast cushion, a present from his dear mum, who was still hanging off the umbilical cord ten miles away. Fresh bouncy towels were ready for his exit so he didn't have to lift a finger and could preserve all that much needed energy for the night ahead. While he relaxed, I checked dinner, courtesy of Mark and Spencer's meal deal and opened the all inclusive bottle of merlot to breathe. With everything ready for the events that lay ahead, wine, dine and a well earned shag. I ran upstairs to get out of my work clothes. My suit smelt of lamb and the right sleeve of my jacket was soaked through from frothing up the bubbles.

I stood naked in front of the mirror and looked at myself. I wonder how Tony see’s me. I know I have a good bottom, my legs are the right side of okay and in a balconette bra I have cleavage to be proud of. I couldn’t really complain about my body although I did .....constantly, like most of the women I knew. I put on the fuck me underwear that I had bought in my lunch hour before slipping into Tony’s favourite dress and my fuck me boots. I was pulling out all the stop because whether he had liked it or not, I was going to mount him like Sea Biscuit and I was not going to stop until I was fully satisfied that we were “ok”. I let my hair fall down my back in big titian locks and quickly touched up my make-up before bitch slapping my lips together. Where all this pent up sexual desire came from, lord knows. It felt as if I were on heat and barely recognised myself in this new role of sexual predator.

As I came down the stairs, I smiled to myself. The living room was such a lovely space. The lighting just right to set the mood. I quickly checked dinner and poured us each a glass of wine.
Carrying the two glasses of wine, I gently opened the door of the bathroom and tiptoed across the carpeted floor in my four-inch boots. Tony is lying with his back to me splashing around and washing himself vigorously. I bent down behind him and took his ear between my teeth, I pressed down gently on his lobe. Suddenly Tony screamed and then I did too. Wine sloshed everywhere as I staggered back and at the same time Tony continued to thrash about in the bath, one hand gripped on to the side of the bath with a fist full of tissue paper, the other fixed firmly around his penis. I don’t remember how, but I must have moved around to the side of the bath to see what was going on. He stared back blankly at me, his mouth open but no sound came from it as he concentrated on the task in hand. He looked like he was choking as his face started to turn red. An alarm bell registered in his head telling him to breathe so he changed his breathing apparatus from nose to mouth. He continued to stare, but this time his lips were curled up and stuck to his gums from the lack of saliva, he sounded like a rabid dog as he breathed noisily through the tight gaps in his teeth. I was just about to find my voice and actually say something when it's all over. I move my head to avoid its mocking leap of excitement and automatically clamp my mouth shut.

His body trembled and then at last his muscles started to relax before he lay back, closing his eyes, his chest heaved for air. It took me a few seconds to find my voice. I took a step back and leant against the wall. I noticed that red wine had splashed all over the carpet which somehow unleashed my anger.
‘What the hell is going on?’ I demanded, stabbing the light switch with my elbow which caused even more wine to spill to the floor and over my hand. The Arabian Nights candles were replaced by 100 watts of pearly whites in my effort to see the situation more clearly. My voice is trembling as I try to fathom out what I have just walked in on here.
‘What are you doing Tony?’ I said. Each word was said slowly and individually for him to understand what I was asking him. I shook at the piece of slime that is hanging off my finger only for it to then wrap itself over the rim of the glass.
He just stared at me. His expression was a mixture of relief and well, relief.
‘Tony,’ I croaked, ‘I think you owe me an explanation, don't you?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I suppose I do.’ He pulled himself up in the bath so that his semi-erect penis was visibly bobbing up and down through what was left of the bubbles. He took the tissue and dabbed the end of it causing the tissue brake off and float away. It occurred to me that on more than one occasion I have I pulled my hair from the drain only to find it coated in tissue.

Tony’s face has returned to its normal colour.
‘I was masturbating,’ he said, simply. ‘All men masturbate, or didn’t you know?’ He sounded so cold as he said it, patronisingly.
Although it had been obvious what he had been doing, I had somehow expected him to have another explanation. ‘Oh dear, look what a mess I've made, must have fallen asleep and had a wet dream or something.’
I mentally took hold of myself and screamed. You bloody idiot Ginny. We hadn’t had sex in nearly three months and there he was doing it himself.
‘But what about us?’ I screamed, ‘I want to have sex. Why are you doing this when it’s obvious I planned this evening for us?’ ‘What is happening to us?’
Angry tears spilled down my face. That evening had been a desperate attempt to feel close again. I felt so hurt I could hardly breathe.
Tony sat in silence, oblivious to my crying he made circular patterns with his finger in the water.
‘Look Ginny,’ he started. I didn’t like the sound of his voice. Tony lifted his head up and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as if he was trying to find the right words to say. What was happening to us? Had he always masturbated? Has he never enjoyed having sex with me?
‘Say something Tony, for fuck sake just say something,’ I cried.
‘Ginny, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it as quickly as possible.’
‘Yes?’ I say, several minutes later and still waiting. The silence was almost overbearing. At last he found his voice.
‘Nothing, I just wanted to say that it’s normal. Everyone does it and if you begrudge me a bit of light relief then maybe you should try it yourself,’ he said, lying back down and turning the hot water tap on with his big toe.
I knew that that was not what he intended to say, but Tony is a stubborn person and will only ever tell you something when he is ready to and not one minute earlier.

I couldn’t think straight. I left the bathroom and smashed the sticky wine glass into the recycle bin. I turned off the oven and with trembling hands I poured myself a large glass of wine.
For all our differences, Tony and I rarely argued and if we did I always spent days trying to make it up to him. I couldn’t stand confrontation, although I faced it every day at work, relationships were different.

Drained, I staggered towards the living room and unzipped my ridiculous boots that should carry some kind of health warning for your feet. I lifted one leg behind me and sat down heavily on it on the sofa. As I sipped the wine I rested my head on the back of the sofa, tears falling down past my ears. The shadows danced on the ceiling from the streetlights outside the window. My stomach felt tight as I thought over the last few months and how things had changed. I had thought we would be happier with Tony working, instead it was worse.

It occurred to me that there was definitely more to this than Tony was letting on and if I had to wait for him to talk to me then i could possibly wait a very long time. I looked over at his boiler suit that he had thrown carelessly on the floor for me to pick up. Resentment rose through the tears. I don’t know why, but I got up and walked across the room and picked it up. With Tony still in the bathroom, I quickly searched for pockets. I couldn’t find anything except for a till receipt from some pizza place, probably where he had his lunch. I hurled it in the direction of the fireplace, but missed. I continued my search convinced I was going to find something, but there was nothing.

I went back to the kitchen and took the bottle of wine back with me to my position on the sofa. As I waited for Tony to emerge from the bathroom, I thought again about the bill and lunch. He had stopped eating his favourite cheese and onion sandwiches, which I used to prepare for him to take to work. He had also started to use mouthwash in the mornings. Then quickly all the changes started coming to me. He was up before the alarm went off every morning, he was more cheery than he had ever been about work, and he had started to wear good clothes under his boiler suit. This combined with the new aftershave and the now the witnessing of self-gratification were all signs, but signs of what? An affair? The receipt! I darted over to the crumpled up bill and unravelled it. I looked for the date, which was the day before. He had ordered one salad, two medium sized pizzas with mixed toppings, one sorbet and one Italian homemade pistachio ice cream and a bottle of fucking 1996 Brunello that cost more than my last phone bill. The total bill came to eighty-six pounds.

Tony didn’t even have that much money in the bank and I know for sure he doesn’t have any credit cards. I helped him cut them up when the bailiffs threatened to take his furniture away before we began living together. There was a piece of paper stapled to the back of the bill. Acid began creeping its way round my stomach and climbing towards my throat. My hands started to shake again as I flicked over the piece of paper, and there it was. At the top of the receipt it says VISA and at the bottom of the receipt is a signature, my signature or as damn near it as you could get.

‘You bastard,’ I screamed from the door of the bathroom.
Tony was out of the bath, naked and towel-drying his hair. He stopped, his hair spiked as he gave it a final rub with the towel. I wanted to smash the glass in his face but instead I threw the wine at it while smacking him hard across the head with my free hand. Tony grabbed at my arms but I was almost uncontrollable.
‘You bastard,’ I scream.
Tony continued to hold my wrists in a vice-like grip and dragged me through to the living room and managed to get the glass out of my hand before I did some permanent damage.
The only sound that could be heard was my wailing. I knew I wasn’t making much sense as I called him every name under the sun and outlined all the things that pointed to his affair. I wanted him to know that I was not stupid and that I know something was wrong. If only I could stop crying and give him a chance to say something. If only he would try and deny it. We must have looked ridiculous sitting on the sofa. Tony sitting awkwardly, not to mention stark bullock naked whilst gripping my wrists as I sat arrested and crying my eyes out. We stayed like that until he trusted that sufficient energy had left my body. Tony got up and without a word he climbed the stairs to bed. I stayed there for a long time afterwards and woke to the sun screeching through a break in the curtains.

My face felt battered as I frowned against the sun. I hauled myself up into a sitting position. A note was laid out on the coffee table in front of me. I picked it up with some hope that it was all a huge misunderstanding. The note read ‘I will come be back on Friday to pick my things up. Gone to stay with a friend.’ It was like being involved in a hit-and-run. He never came back on the Friday, but instead came back when I was at work and had removed every trace of himself. His clothes, his music even his inflatable cushion from the bath....all gone. He walked away without a word and with no explanation. And it is because of this that I am suspended in thin air. This break-up was the best thing that could have happened to me, it really was, it just hasn’t sunk in yet.

Two weeks from today I will be joining a cruise ship. But right now I have to deal with my boss.
I worked for Sue while she briefly managed the Scottish office and when she moved back to England, she invited me to apply for a more senior role with her. I worked my way up over the years and it was down to Sue’s recognition of my hard work, my ability to build strong relationships with clients and the respect that I had gained from my colleagues that I had got this far at such a young age. I don’t get involved in office gossip, but I do listen to the people I manage and I care about them. In return they work hard and help me achieve our targets, which make us a successful department.

As I walked down the office, clutching the dreaded letter in my hand, I have a moment of rationalisation. What on earth was I doing? Am I doing the right thing? But I had made my decision and I kept walking. Tania, her assistant, smiled up at me. Tania only ever smiles at management.
‘Morning Ginny, how are you today? Without waiting for a reply, she tells me that Sue is on the phone. I take a seat and wait. As if by magic, Tania has produced a cup of my favourite green tea with a slice of lemon.
‘There you go,’ she said, her attention suddenly down to the envelope in my hand. Usually I would be armed with files and reports so this single solitary envelope was bound to raise suspicion, if you were Tania.
‘Thank you, Tania,’ I say, smiling back at her. God she is efficient, then again, Sue wouldn’t have hired her had she been anything less than an all smiling magician and mind reader.

I had no idea what I wanted to do when I left school, the only thing I had known was that I wanted to travel, but that never happened. School finished then it was sixth form and then college where the closest I could get to travel was to study it. So now, finally, I have brushed the cobwebs from my National Diploma in Travel and Tourism and have applied for a Customer Relations job onboard a major Cruise liner and now, my dreams are about to come true. Unfortunately, if I wanted that particular job I would have had to wait another three months, but at that point I didn’t care what job I got as long as it meant getting away. Mentally I have started to move on and although I know I have a long way to go, at least I am on the right track.
When Sue finished her phone call, Tania in true ‘Apprentice style’ advised me that Sue would see me now.

My cup and saucer rattled as I got up and placed it on the coffee table beside me before walking over to Sue’s office door. Sue is waving me in so I push the door open and walk in. I sat down on the chair in front of Sue’s desk and smoothed my cream skirt out with my free hand. My guts are churning.
‘Tea Ginny?’ she asked, dropping our usual green tea bags into the pot before pouring steaming hot water over the top.
‘Yes, thanks’. I reply. A lock of hair had managed to unlock itself and hung annoyingly over my line of vision.
‘Excellent results again Ginny,’ said Sue, producing two china cups and saucers. Sue did everything with elegance, I think to myself as I compare this to my heavily stained mug sitting back on my desk with a teabag that is dried up and stuck to the bottom.
‘Yes, it was a good month, everyone did really well.’ I replied. I took the annoying piece of hair and stuffed it under a grip. I didn’t need this distraction and needed to speak to Sue in a calm, I know what I am doing manner.
‘So,’ said Sue, handing me the cup and saucer. It rattled dangerously in transition.
‘Was there something you wanted to discuss?’
Deep breath. Was she going to think I was a complete and utter idiot or would she understand? Not everyone shared my enthusiasm for adventure and not everyone is supporting my decision.
What on earth could go wrong? I am finally able to travel and if you asked me, I think there could be an element of jealousy with some friends.
‘Sue, I want to thank you for all the support and opportunities you have given me since joining the company.’ Sue sits back and before I go any further she interrupts.
‘What’s going on Ginny?’ ‘Come on, I know you, what’s up?
‘I’m leaving,’ I said. My mouth was dry. Sue was staring at me over the desk. I put the cup to my mouth and take a gulp. Sue starts drumming her fingers on the desk.
‘I see,’ she replied. ‘Tell me more?’
The floodgates open and Tony is mentioned more than once. The travel, the ship, the opportunity to see the world. I went on, selling the benefits. Sue stayed silent until I ran out of steam.
‘Sounds wonderful,’ she said, smiling. ‘You haven’t actually mentioned what it is that you will be doing’, she said, her eyebrow twisted into a question mark?
Oh fuck. How am I going to say this? Mum, I can cope with, but Sue sees me as a professional, capable person who is used to making smart business decisions.
With nothing I could think of to delay answering the question I tell her that I naturally wanted to continue in Customer Relation, she nodded, acknowledging the reasoning behind this.
‘However, the only job that was available was a cocktail waitress,’ I rushed, in the hope she might not hear me correctly. I don’t need anyone telling me I can’t go. I am going. But most of all I don’t want Sue to see me as an idiot.
‘Are you serious?’ asked Sue, stopping the drumming and staring at me like I was mad.
‘I know, I know, I said, but Sue, on a personal level I have been a mess and I didn’t care if they had offered me as bait to killer whales, I would have taken it.’
‘Well you seem like you have pretty much made up your mind Ginny and I am not going to interfere. A month is not going to give me enough time to replace you,’ she said, trying to hide her disappointment. This is not going well.
‘Two weeks,’ I say, quietly. ‘I have two weeks holidays to take,’ I add quickly. My face is distorted in a “oh shit is she going to explode” expression.
‘Oh Ginny,’ she sighed. Gently she placed her cup and saucer on the table. She got up and came round the desk. She looked out behind me and perused the office area and then looked down at me. ‘I hope you know what you are doing. You will be sorely missed. But, I have an offer. You take your six months and I will advertise your job as a temporary contract.’
I could not have been more surprised. I knew Sue liked me and I have done a good job, but I never imagined I could come back.
‘Sue, that’s fantastic,’ I said, completely shocked.
‘Come here Ginny,’ she said, waving me up to her with her arms. With that she pulled me to her tiny frame and gave me a hug.
‘Good luck girl, she said, go and have some fun.’