Chapter 2

We had promised to write and we did. Every week brought a letter from Marilyn and I replied about every two weeks. Writing letters was not a problem, it was what you said in them that taxed the mental processes and I could never think of anything to say. But as is the way of things gradually the letters eased to once every two weeks from Marilyn, then three weeks then once a month then nothing. I was as much to blame as she, for I had written less often than Marilyn. It was not that I didn't want to keep the correspondence going, but with little chance of seeing Marilyn for some time there seemed to be no point in the exercise. I am not certain whether it was the paucity of my letters or if she had found another young man visiting the hotel to keep her company. Whatever, the contact as fleeting as it was fell by the wayside. Next year Frankie Vaughan also recorded 'Kisses Sweeter than Wine' and every time I heard it I experienced a moment of melancholy for the days I had spent with Marilyn.

My life went on, the question at that time was should I go to University. My parents were very much in favour of that. I on the other hand knew that I would be wasting time and money. I doubted that I would get even a minor degree. I was bored with education. Things were happening and there were good jobs available for everyone with or without a degree. With that said my first job was a mistake from the very beginning. With my mind set on independence I joined a large department store as a management trainee, I soon found out the trainee part of the contract was quietly forgotten by the management and I was simply a department assistant. I left after ten months and took a position as assistant to the Sales Director of a company distributing heating oil. My father had pulled some strings to get me there, and to be honest I wish he hadn't bothered. The director was one of the most self-absorbed, loud mouthed, egotistical pedagogues you would ever meet. According to him he had never put a foot wrong, and he knew better than any expert no matter what the topic. He boasted of his fine war record, yet one of our representatives who had been a Commando during the war and didn't boast about it treated the Director's bragging with cynicism. You may ask how he got to this position. He was there because he knew somebody. It was the typical system of British industry at the time; know the right people and you got the top job. Whether you were competent was not a concern. Faced with incompetent bosses the unions found that they could take everyone for a ride, no wonder the UK industrial base collapsed. Of course the irony that I was there because someone pulled strings passed me by; anyway I was in no position to either create success or failure.

Dissatisfied I looked around and eventually found the right slot for me. I went to work as a Sales Representative for one of the most famous of household textiles producers. My new company insisted that their representatives had a thorough knowledge of weaving and fabric printing technology, to that end they would send the new boy on a course of seeing all the work that went into making a yard of cloth. This induction lasted for six months, interspersed with training on the ground. I found these visits fascinating and learned a lot. I had literally 'Gone through the Mill'. My interest was such that I then, off my own bat, enrolled for a part time college course in weaving technology. I had found my niche in life. I was busy, working and attending the college, learning all the time. However I did find time to get married, although I had little choice in the matter. It was a shotgun marriage as the girl in question was pregnant at the time.

Jane, my wife was a sweet girl who at first demonstrated an active libido, hence the pregnancy. As we settled down to life as partners and parents her attitude changed and she listened more to her mother than to me. It didn't matter that I had a good job, that with hard work I would advance. It was never good enough for her, or should I say her mother. Life could be difficult enough without the dreaded mother in law. Our love life became spasmodic and when I was allowed physical pleasure it was of the religious variety only.

My Dad had an offer of a very prestigious job which would involve mum and him moving up North. I had mixed feelings about their going, but as dad said Lancashire was not too far away and they would be back often to see all their relatives. Jane, my daughter Sarah and I would visit from time to time, but there was no rapport between Jane and my parents, although they loved to see their granddaughter.

I worked hard for my employer for six years and having unsuccessfully applied for promotion I took stock and considered my future. Opportunities for advancement were few, and having failed once the likelihood of another chance was small. Luckily I was approached by a wholesaler in the same trade offering me a position so with a minimum of thought I transferred my allegiance. Funnily enough my new employer was prepared to pay more than I would have got had I been successful in the promotion. Life went on its usual bumpy way. My new job was going well and I was rewarded with more responsibility and an increase in salary. In my personal life things weren't so good. My wife and I were not getting along, we didn't talk to each other and our love life was to all intents and purposes zero. The only serious talk we did have was to agree that we were not getting along so we decided to split.

It should have been a simple matter but for some reason her mother wanted to make me the scapegoat, by trying to prove that I had been unfaithful. I found out that she had taken to phoning my customers asking if I had actually made the calls that my report sheet showed. My customer records and report sheets were filed at home so easily accessed. I had nothing to hide so did not secrete them away. It was my Sales Manager who brought this to my attention as he had had calls asking why this Mrs. Amerton was making these enquiries. My solicitor fired off a threatening letter to my wife's solicitor who promptly advised my mother in law to stop this harassment. After that the divorce went through quickly. Jane's family were wealthy and the house was hers, so I had no spousal support to pay, just support for my daughter, Sarah. My mother in law, far from blackening my name had actually weakened their position. Although Sarah lived with her mother, my solicitor had fought long and hard to get me visiting rights. My mother in law was furious when he succeeded and I made certain that I used every visiting slot possible, probably more to upset the old Bat than anything else. Her attitude had no effect as Sarah was always happy to see me, our relationship became stronger and in later years the Court changed the conditions so that Sarah could spend two weekends a month resident with me.

I found a good apartment to rent and became a single man again. Strangely I was not too embittered, my wife's attitude; by proxy of her mother's attitude over the years had warned me that this could happen, and forewarned was forearmed. I was free now to get on with my life although the circumstances of being freed were not ideal. As a single man I determined to find pleasure wherever I could. I did and there were quite a few young ladies who were happy to help in sipping sweetly of the pleasures of life. I would not describe myself as a player; my associations were usually quite long averaging four or five months. Of one thing I was certain. My paramours were welcome to stay for a night or a weekend, but the moment they started to use my wardrobe on a permanent basis, or their toothbrush took up a more or less permanent residence in my bathroom they were gone. My world went on in this pleasant slightly irresponsible manner for three years. I worked hard and I took my pleasures as well, learning as I went. The lessons opened my eyes and in addition were very enjoyable as I learned how to please a woman. My adventure with Marilyn had not really taught me this valuable lesson and my wife once married would not consider doing anything that she decided her mother would deem immoral. So I had a diet of infrequent missionary sex with the lights out. For a while, after my divorce I had a dalliance with an older lady, she was forty eight to my thirty two. To the world she was an elegant, refined lady, well spoken, well dressed and well mannered. However once she was naked and in bed she turned into an animal. She taught me much, usually in the coarsest language, telling me exactly what she wanted in her upper class tones. Hearing her tell me what she wanted in the most base of language but in the most modulated of tones was surreal to say the least; neither would she stop to consider when I was bursting to piss; merely saying. "Use me as your toilet and soak me." I did and she had the most amazing orgasms. Life with her was certainly interesting. I would liked to have thought that I was the only one enjoying her charms but I suspected that I was not alone

The company I worked for appointed a chap called Gerry Porter as our new Managing Director about that time. Gerry was a breath of fresh air in an industry that was to a certain extent hidebound. He had a revolutionary idea that customers actually mattered. We sold our products mainly through High Street soft furnishers and interior decorators. When complaints arose about faulty fabric there was a game played with the soft furnisher placing the blame on us, whilst we placed the blame on the soft furnisher. The industry at large played this game with the idea that the customer would eventually get fed up and go away. My new M. D. wanted to change that. He called me in to discuss his plans. When your boss, the big boss calls you in, your immediate thought is that you have done something wrong. I was no different. I started examining my work over the last few weeks. Was my call rate acceptable? Was my order rate good? Then my thoughts went over anything else that could lead to my being on the carpet. I got a surprise. He wanted to make me our Technical Representative. It would be my job to examine every complaint factually and make suggestions as to how the complaint could be resolved should our fabric be found at fault. I would no longer have a sales territory. In addition he wanted me to visit all our suppliers and thoroughly assess their quality control methods. We bought fabrics from all over the world. We had suppliers in the States, South Africa, India, and Australia and of course most of the countries in Europe. He was giving me the opportunity to become a world traveller at the company's expense.