Crossing the Bridge

By S G Marshall

All things considered what else was he supposed to do? JC was handsome, charismatic, funny, a good listener. One of a kind. It seemed as if everybody knew it. They all wanted to be close to him, to share in his world, to be him. It was inevitable that he would have more fun than most; toying with the affections of others before moving on to pastures new. It was never his intention to cause heartache but he too was hurting; struggling with unresolved issues from the past.

Then luck played its part, and after ‘stumbling’ into the perfect relationship - finding his equal - JC found peace of mind. He wanted nothing more than to forget the past and embrace family life.

But some people can never forget. Their pain will not go away. They are constantly reminded of what once was and what could have been. To them the past will always be the present until they can conceive a way to permanently make it so.

The terrifying lengths that JC’s acquaintances will go to play a key part in his life transforms his perception of the past, and compels him to make choices that drastically change his life and the lives of those closest to him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S G Marshall
• Release date: Dec 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9780993511714

S G Marshall

Samuel Marshall lives in Buckinghamshire in the United Kingdom with his wife and twins.

Book preview

Crossing the Bridge

By S.G. Marshall

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Published by S G Marshall

© 2015 S.G. Marshall

Prologue

When we recount the salient moments in the life of my best friend Joslin Christopher Richards - known popularly as JC - one question immediately springs to my mind. What defines a man? Some say it is the way he treats those around him in testing times, while others say it is his ability to learn from his experiences, both the positive and negatives and pass on his wisdom to those in need of guidance. Had I not known JC I would have agreed with the latter. But I do know him. I know of his joys and sorrows and how determined he was to mend his ways for the women he loved. But I have also seen his darker egocentric side and most disturbingly of all I know of the bizarre events that made him the man he is today.

I was eager to tell his story. He was eager for his story to be told. But I am neither eloquent enough nor qualified to give his unique experiences the preamble it deserves. So I enlisted the help of an esteemed psychologist at the University I am attending. I met with her on several occasions. Although not wholly convinced that the events transpired, Dr Josephine Stratmann had always been intrigued by the alluring nature of such men. So, drawing on what I had disclosed Stratmann willingly put pen to paper to briefly describe how an individual with the innate ability to manipulate others should consider this both a blessing and a curse. This was her assessment:

It is easy to recall key events in our life that has led us to where we are today. The emotions they evoke will over time become ever more intense and their significance distorted until they are interpreted as something that was meant to be; fate. But if we take a moment to look beneath the surface it becomes apparent that machinations were in place to ensure that the scales were tipped to either help or hinder aspirations. Then there are other factors that also come in to play. It stands to reason that a person considered charismatic and physically attractive will encounter a higher number of individuals hoping to play a significant role in their life. To change their destiny. Under these conditions even the most benign undertakings could be misinterpreted. A smile could be perceived as a sign of affection, a lingering handshake as a display of passion. The risk of being misinterpreted is close at hand every time someone new is encountered. An experienced player will make the most out of almost every situation. Taking just what they need to boost their ego. Fulfil their ambitions. Satisfy their desires. Then retreat before irreparable damage has been done. But a situation may arise. One that may initially seem innocuous; yet still they wonder. Instincts implore them to do one thing yet they choose to follow an all too familiar path. Until the moment arrives when there is no turning back. A line has been crossed and all they can do is learn to live with the consequences.

Stratmann’s trepidation over my version of events is, in the scheme of things irrelevant. What is pertinent was her ability to aptly summarise the situation. But there is so much more to JC. Handsome, charismatic and irrepressible, he was also someone who belatedly learned to express his true feelings and accept that he in turn could be loved by others. But he could not escape his past. And in the past he had gone too far; crossed the line and eventually forced to cross over the bridge. Only by accepting responsibility for past misdemeanours and acknowledging the true contents of his heart could JC possibly hope to find his way home.

Chapter 1

It was two years ago to the day that JC exited a train carriage at St Paul’s station and realised he was behind schedule. He simply had to get to the venue on time. The interview was procured not so much by his credentials as by his ability to smooth-talk the nice but gullible - and transparently single - Daphne Malcolm, the personnel officer at the employment agency. The role of Personal Assistant slash office manager was hardly the comeback occupation of his dreams but the salary was impressive, the hours suited his needs and the terms and conditions were excellent. Although unable to foresee the drawbacks he was wily enough to know that somewhere along the line there had to be a catch. There was always a catch, but for now deliberating over bad karma could not have been further from his thoughts.

Without further hesitation he began jogging majestically through the crowded streets, casually glancing at his watch from time to time. A consistent pace was maintained by projecting exaggerated wheezing sounds to herald his presence, and as commuters adjusted their stride patterns to allow safe passage his thoughts turned to those closest to him, and in particular Amanda. The JC she first encountered held a simple philosophy on life, particularly when it came to personal relationships; no emotional entanglements. He could be spotted most nights at the more salubrious West End bars, with a different woman draping from his arm. He had one type. Smartly dressed, tall, slim blondes. High flyers, or at the very least professionally qualified and unashamedly seeking long-term relationships with their male equivalent. To some extent he aptly fit the bill. JC was undoubtedly eloquent and suave and had the ability to put a smile on the face of everyone he came into contact with. His physical appearance was equally impressive. At 6ft 1ins tall with chiselled good looks, well-staged thick blonde hair and communicative blue eyes he was frequently compared to a young Brad Pitt. A stagnant career and lack of academic qualifications did not detract from his charm offensive. Besides he was not above lying to get his way and conversely, like a good scholar he would go that extra mile when pursuing someone or something that intrigued him. His usual modus operandi was to befriend a malleable senior staff member at his place of employment. It was then a simple matter to gain insight into their area of expertise, hopes and aspiration. On meeting an attractive women he would put all he had learnt into practice. Tastefully playing the role of the go-getter. Sometimes even mimicking his colleague’s mannerisms and facial expressions. Once the night was over and the passion had dissipated there would be no second date. He would not return her calls. The following night would yield a brand-new challenge.

Why don’t you look where you are going? The collision with the elderly gentleman brought JC back to the present, and all the adverse emotions associated with an impending interview swiftly returned.

I’m sorry sir. I should have been looking where I was going. JC’s response was polite but nonchalant. He tried desperately not to break stride as he spoke and glanced furtively at his watch. His thoughts focused solely on evading the next oncoming commuter.

His lack of sincerity provoked the man into launching a more vigorous verbal assault, only now it was directed against anyone he considered to be in a hurry to reach their destination.

There was a time when people looked out for each other and respected their elders he bellowed. It did not matter whether they were a friend or a stranger..!

His words struck deep. JC’s default position, to be courteous to others was being questioned and for the briefest of moments his instincts wrestled with his desire to reach his destination. It took one more glance at his watch to remind him where his priorities lay. The continued ranting of his nemesis, now fading in the distance inspired JC to quicken his pace, and within minutes he was standing at the entrance of the interview venue itself. The ultra-modern Wrex Tower building, located in the heart of the City of London. After announcing his arrival to the receptionist there was just enough time to undergo a pre-interview grooming. The ground floor gentlemen’s toilets proved the ideal location. Unoccupied and well-maintained the elongated wall mirror ensured a head to toe view of his efforts. He began with his face, paying particular attention to his teeth, then fingernails and black brogue shoes. He appropriately adjusted his tie and eventually his newly purchased navy blue suit. The self-examination ended as it always did, with an assessment of his hair. It was his pride and joy. A former conquest once referred to it as his blond ‘mane’ due to its length and thickness. It was - he believed - what made him stand out from the crowd, and made new acquaintances perceive him as approachable yet - even more importantly - difficult to gauge. He had only recently taken the decision to shorten the length in a bid to appear more contemporary, but it was an important part of his identity and too valuable a tool to radically alter, particularly prior to an interview.

Despite being satisfied with his appearance it was a troubled expression that reflected back at him. Amanda was uncomfortable with JC applying for the position. She considered the role to be that of a ‘glorified secretary’ and therefore beneath him. Without her support his confidence was visibly impaired. Although aware of the detrimental effect she was having on his preparations, Amanda was determined to maintain her stance. None of it made sense to him. They were used to living a comfortable lifestyle, even after the birth of twins. Surely their energies should be focused on preserving what they have? With her celebrity status on the wane it was vital that he found a position that would help to sustain them for the foreseeable future.

I should not be feeling this way…….I should not be feeling this way before an interview!

Though intent on voicing his frustration JC had the presence of mind to speak quietly, mindful that one of the cubicles was now occupied. Still peering into the mirror he was surprised to see how much his appearance had altered since his partying days. His features becoming ever more chiselled giving him a more masculine look. His hands hirsute. But the physical changes were minute compared to his psychological transformation. That was a far more unpredictable process which began almost seven years ago when the most influential person in his life was a work colleague named Lenny Wiseman. Lenny was a giant of a man, in almost every sense of the word. He stood at six foot 3 inches tall, with a rotund yet strapping physique, perpetually bronzed appearance and short cropped brown hair. The two men worked together at North Sacs International, a company that specialised in LIBOR based bonds, loan and forfeiting markets. Lenny had been working at the company for five and a half years when JC was first appointed. During that time he was consistently involved in disputes with management. He was suspected of pilfering office equipment in 2005 but the subsequent investigation was deferred due to lack of evidence. The following year his integrity was again placed under the microscope when human resources officially termed his sequences of long-term absences as bordering on unwarranted. William Reeves, the Human Resources Manager was exasperated by his inability to reprimand Lenny, but in his defence he had a formidable opponent. Following his initial confrontation with management Lenny took it upon himself to absorb every scrap of information he could lay his hands on regarding employment law. He would spend his evenings in local libraries mumbling incoherently to himself as he hypothesised situations where he would confront and outwit senior managers. It so happened that Lenny’s period of absences often coincided with particularly busy periods for his department, when it was essential that everybody pulled their weight. On returning to work he found himself having to fend off awkward questions regarding his conduct not only from management but also from colleagues he had previously considered friends.

At the same time that Lenny’s popularity was in rapid decline JC was fast becoming the golden boy of the organisation. His amiable personality and obliging manner enabled him to form positive relationships within a remarkably short period of time. Within six months of joining the organisation he was on a first name basis with all of the senior management team; his forte being his ability to put strait-laced managers at ease with his wry sense of humour. His suave appearance combined with an innate ability to lavish compliments at appropriate times meant that he also accrued numerous female admirers, but he made a point of never going on dates with female colleagues. Although never having expressed an interest in gaining promotion rumours were rife that a superfluous non-executive role would be created to provide him with the experience and knowledge needed for rapid progression.

Given the contrasting popularity of both men it was inevitable that concerns would be raised when they developed a long-term friendship. The consensus was that Lenny, being six years older than JC, would sway the younger man into behaving in a manner that would prove detrimental to his career prospects. Initial attempts to impede their relationship were unsuccessful. Chiefly because the two men shared common interests that they could only articulate to each other. In effect they needed each other. JC’s high regard for Lenny was triggered when he overheard him expressing his opinion on the discovery of Tutankhamen’s burial site in 1922 to perplexed colleagues. Fascinated by historical facts and archaeological discoveries in particular JC would have been reluctant to engage in such discourse in the past. In part due to his lack of academic credentials, but chiefly because he thought nobody would take him seriously on such matters. He considered Lenny to be of similar ilk, a kindred spirit whose desire to convey his opinions and absorb unusual trivia had also remained unfulfilled. Paradoxically JC’s eagerness to converse was additionally motivated by the fact that Lenny’s colleagues had disowned him. As a consequence Lenny would not be able to belittle his theories to anyone of note at the Company. As their friendship developed JC frequently found himself captivated by Lenny’s unique oratory style, and in awe of his extensive general knowledge. His detailed accounts of past events, which frequently ended with a remarkable and sometimes questionable twist, left him enthralled.

For the most part Lenny thought it inconceivable that someone as contemporary and gregarious as JC would want to be associated with him. Lenny was a loner. Forming meaningful long-term relationships would always prove difficult but he was proud to tell anyone who cared to listen how he was briefly engaged to one Bethany Wilkins, a lover of heavy metal music and oriental tattoos. She worked in his local patisserie store just a stone’s throw from Leytonstone tube station in East London. At the time Lenny was renting a one bedroom apartment in Bushwood; the most sort after place