Nobody's Fault by Derek Haines (rm book recommendations txt) 📕

food to soak up the beer before going to his accountant.
When he arrived at his accountants, he told the woman at reception that there should be some papers ready for him to sign.
‘Just a moment Mr. Holdsworth. I’ll check.’
She walked off into the office area. David sat down to read a magazine. He was half way through a dull article on accelerated depreciation in a finance magazine, when a male voice echoed from the reception desk.
‘Mr. Holdsworth?’
David turned and looked up. He walked to the reception desk. The young man came around to shake his hand.
‘Hello Mr Holdsworth, I am Steven Sharp. John is out for the afternoon, but he left these with me, and said you might be dropping by. All we need is your signature here.’ he said opening up a file and pointing to a pencilled cross.
‘And here.’ pointing to another pencilled cross on another page. David signed.
‘They will be lodged Monday. John will be in touch after that I would presume.’
‘Ok. Thanks.’ was all David said.
‘Nice to meet you Mr. Holdsworth.’
With that the young man turned and went back into the office area. David said goodbye to the receptionist and looked at his watch. Plenty of time to get to the bank he thought.
He arrived on time, and was then kept waiting for nearly an hour before the bank manager saw him. He was becoming impatient. The beers at lunch didn’t help either. He was busting for a piss. It only took a few minutes to freeze his company’s bank accounts.
Three thirty. As he returned to his car, David remembered his wife’s old aunt lived close by. He liked her very much, and she was one of the few in-laws that made him feel welcome. She was in her late seventies, and enjoyed a beer. She was widowed, and lived by herself. He decided to see if she was home. At least he could tell her what had happened, and maybe keep his old friend. He arrived a few minutes later to find her reading a book on her front porch.
‘Hello David, what a nice surprise.’ she said greeting him with a peck on the cheek.
‘Good book?’ David asked.
‘Not enough sex!’ she replied with a sly grin.
‘Cup of tea? Or a beer?’ she asked starting to rise from her chair.
‘Stay there.’ David said. ‘Tea would be fine. I’ll put the kettle on. Want one?’
‘That would be lovely dear.’
He went inside and returned a few minutes later with two mugs of tea. He sat quietly for a few moments, then sipped his tea. He broke the silence. Bluntly.
‘We have separated.’
‘You know dear, It was a bit embarrassing. I didn’t really know what to say when she came here a few weeks ago. She had this fella with her. I didn’t know what to say. He is a Manly supporter. What do you say to people like that?’ she said with a smile. She had always had a thing about anyone who supported the Manly football team. She loved her rugby league, and was a one eyed St George follower. The humour wasn’t lost on David. She was being sympathetic also.
‘Well, he must be a moron then! A bloody Manly supporter huh?’ he relied. Holding his emotions back from the shock that his wife had been parading her lover around to her family. His family until a few days ago!
‘For sure David. A moron.’ She confirmed.
‘David.’ she started. ‘You are always welcome here. I take no sides. It’s up to you two to sort this out, or not. I am old enough to know there are two sides to every truth. I don’t want to know the ins and outs. Just know that you are welcome here anytime. Ok?’ she finished.
‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’
After changing the subject to football and politics, the two of them enjoyed the rest of their chat.
David left just before five. The thought of returning alone to his hotel didn’t appeal. The invitation to a bottle of scotch however, was very appealing.
The afternoon had been a slow grind for Tony. He wished to himself that he had stayed at the Drover’s Dog all afternoon. The first call he received when he had returned was from his bank manager. Triple T’s payments for the consolidated bank loan where two months in arrears. He tried to reassure him that everything was under control. He had a feeling he hadn’t fully succeeded. One of his larger customers rang to discuss rates. His customer was reviewing his transport costs. Tony had been in the business long enough to know this was code for his customer having received a quote from a competitor who was going in low to win business. He lowered his rates to keep the client. On the heels of that, his wife called into the office.
‘Oh, Tony. You are alive then.’ she said sarcastically. ‘Is this where you live? Have you thought of installing a bed and TV.’ she continued. With that caustic comment she made her way to the petty cash tin and took fifty dollars. She signed the petty cash chit book lying along side, then left. Without even as much as a goodbye.
Tony sat at his desk in fury. ‘For god sake, she does fuck all! Then has the hide to embarrass me in my own office!’ Tony fumed in his mind. At four thirty his phone rang.
‘Hi Tony, it’s Steve Sharp. Just wondering if you have been able to dig out that info’ I need for the depreciation schedules?’
‘Oh sorry Steve. Look, the file is on my desk. I just forgot all about it. When do you need them by?’
‘Well.’ Steve replied. ‘Pretty soon. Will you be there in an hour or so. I could pick them up on my way home. Your office is not far out of my way.’
‘Yes, that’ll be fine Steve. As long as it’s no trouble.’
‘No, no trouble at all. See you then.’
‘Ok, see you Steve.’
At five thirty, Steve arrived at Triple T’s office. He found Tony in his office with David Holdsworth. Both enjoying a drink. Tony noticed Steve as he approached his office door.
‘Steve, come in. This is David Holdsworth. Davis this is Steve Sharp. He is….’
David interrupted. ‘Yes we have met. Small world Steve. How are you?’ he said shaking his hand.
‘Yes, Mr Holdsworth and I met this afternoon at my office.’ Steve told Tony.
‘Oh, David please Steve.’ David said to Steve. ‘We don’t need any of that formality.’
‘Drink Steve?’ Tony asked. ‘We are a couple ahead of you though, I must warn you.’ he said with a laugh.
‘Thanks, yes, if I am not intruding.’
‘No, not at all.’ both Tony and David replied almost in unison.
Tony poured out three drinks. ‘Salute.’ Tony said raising his glass.
‘Salute.’ they replied.
‘Good day gentlemen?’ Steve asked trying to start a conversation.
‘Fucking dreadful.’ was Tony’s terse response.
The conversation died for thirty seconds. Steve felt a little embarrassed.
‘Sorry Steve.’ Tony smiled. ‘It’s just been one of those days. Weeks!’ he added.
David had his turn at starting a conversation.
‘How long have you been with John’s firm Steve?’
‘Three years David. I quite like it there. I am a bit office bound, but I can’t complain. I enjoy the work.’
‘Are you originally from Sydney?’ David asked.
‘No, Perth. I immigrated there when I was four. I moved here three years ago.’
‘Perth!’ Tony exclaimed. ‘Well, how about that! Three Perth boys made good in the big smoke huh?’
‘What? Are you both from Perth? Steve asked.
‘Yes!’ David replied. ‘How about that.’
‘I think this calls for another drink.’ Tony said as he poured three more drinks.
‘This bottle isn’t going to last much longer. Tony said after taking a sip. ‘Do I have any takers for a meeting of the Perth Old Boys at the Drover’s Dog?’
‘I second that motion.’ David said with a broad smile.
‘You’ll need three for a quorum.’ Steve said.
‘Motion carried then.’ Tony chuckled. And added, ‘What a coincidence.’
On Sunday morning David returned to his house on the coast. It had taken him most of Saturday to recover from his hangover as a result of his Friday night with Tony and Steve. He had enjoyed their company. And the reminiscing about their home town. Most of all he had enjoyed the male companionship. It was heartening to him to have the reaction of men to his situation. Not that their opinions had changed anything, just feeling that someone was on his side was a small comfort. As he drove, he thought of the sudden changes that were happening. Just a few short weeks ago, if anyone had alluded to his wife being a cow, bitch or whore, he would have been horrified. Now, he could only nod his head in agreement, and feel justified in his own anger towards her. Most of all, he felt alone.
It had only been days since his wife had left him. He had lost all perspective of time. It seemed like months. Then, in an instant, it felt like only hours. He arrived home to a note.
‘I rang, but there was no answer. I came to get some of my things. I thought it would be better to get this over quickly. Bye.’
He looked at the note. Not even addressed to him by name. Did he exist so little now that she did not even want to use his name? Or hers? For such a short note, the results of the message where large. Some of her things seemed to amount to an awful lot! The house seemed empty. Stripped of all its heart. Gaping holes on a blank wall where a painting once was. Shadows of furniture left as indentations in the carpet. Books, once standing proud and in regiment, lying on their side as too many of their comrades had been removed. David looked at the once proud bookcase. It was a forlorn creature now. Barely one third of the books remained. As he slowly went through what had been his home, he now only found a house. Its character and life stripped from it. This was the shell that was left.
He tried to console himself, and to a large extent, control himself, by toying with the thought that the house was not half empty, but half full. It didn’t work. He became agitated. Looking in every part of the house, almost at random, no order or sense. What was there, was useful, needed, mechanical. Enough plates, knives, forks, saucepans. A bed, linen, towels. A sofa, a television. Yes, enough to live in a house. It was what was missing that was tearing David apart. The collection of a lifetime. Little ornaments, treasures, photographs. Ornate wedding gifts that were never used, but sat as a reminder in a glass cabinet. Everything familiar had disappeared. As his will to look for what was missing slowed, he was torn slowly with the dawning realisation that his marriage had ended. And with it had his life. All his plans for his life had been made with a simple assumption that it would always include, not only his wife, but his life around him. His home. His familiarity. His comfort. He had never contemplated a life alone and adrift.
He stood at the window and looked to the sea, white capped in a stiff breeze.
‘I just do not understand.’ David thought aloud.
‘I just don’t understand.’ he whispered again. Addressing no one but a fluttering curtain.
The single thread that ran through his thoughts was simply, why?
Why had this happened? Why had he not seen any signs?