50 Onwards & Upwards

By Linda Mellor

Karen Knighton is a 53-year-old woman starting again after divorce. On her own with two failed marriages behind her and a lifetime of relationship let-downs, she is determined to get her partner choice right this time.She signs up for online dating and is matched up with 1980s man, an excited sales director, a work acquaintance, a daughter-obsessed dad, an older man, and a one-hit-wonder-has-been rock musician. Her close friends are also searching for love. Karen and her friends lookout for one another and experience a series of spectacularly disappointing but funny dates and unsatisfactory sex. Karen values her close friendships, but during a wine-infused dinner party, one her friends makes a life-changing drunken confession that leaves everyone shocked and wondering how many dark secrets she has and how it will impact on them.Inspired to help others over 50 stay safe and beat loneliness, Karen creates a website called 50 Onwards & Upwards. Just as it all starts to fall into place she is knocked down for the third time. It's onwards and upwards as Karen picks herself up once again.Set in Fife, Scotland, 2018.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mellor
• Release date: Nov 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386129806

Linda Mellor

Linda Mellor (b.1965) is a freelance writer and professional photographer, and regularly writes magazine features and columns about the Scottish outdoor life and takes pictures. Linda loves the countryside, wildlife, seashore and the wind in her hair. Born and bred in Fife, Scotland, she left for London in her early 20s and carved a career in search & selection. Leaving years of city life behind, she returned to the countryside and embraced her passion for photography, quickly followed by writing, and established herself as a writer and photographer. Now in her fifties, novel writing has taken over. She's proud to have written and published '50 Onwards & Upwards' and is writing a second book due in 2019. In her book, Linda explores life post-divorce and failed relationships, searching for love and signing-up for online dating, lovers and bad sex. The importance of friendships, girl-talk, laughter and a glass of good wine. Embracing life over 50, with an onwards and upwards approach.

Book preview

This book is dedicated to my family and creative friends.  

Also a special thank you to the good, the bad and the ugly from online dating.

CHAPTER 1

‘I need a good man. I don’t want to get old and lonely,’ said Karen to her reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t have a problem with growing older, she was curious what sort of older woman she would turn into and how she would look. She pondered a little longer and looked closer into her bluey green eyes; her eyelids had more creases, the surrounding lines and wrinkles extended outwards, and her eyebrows had thinned so much they no longer needed plucking. It gave her an odd feeling looking into her own eyes, was she searching for information or was it recognition?

Karen Knighton felt a deep-down acceptance of age and of feeling happy in her own skin, yes, there were things she would like to change but she could live with the lumps, bumps, and unevenness in her body. She was unafraid of her increasing years but didn’t want to grow old on her own because she knew life was more fun if you share it. She needed a man in her life and to feel that closeness and experience love again.

‘Saying it instead of thinking it will spur me into action!’

Talking to herself had become the norm, and the sound of her voice hopefully made her head take notice.

‘I am open to finding a great man!’

She smiled at her reflection.

It was time to start new adventures. She could get things done and make her mark with the wisdom and experience she had gained over the years. Maybe life would be easier, and less of a struggle although the menopause made life a challenge. She was content with being divorced but she missed having a man in her life and yearned for conversation and laughter, coming home to a cosy house in winter, cooking for two, talking through her ideas, the smell of aftershave on skin, little notes on the fridge door, surprises, intimacy, arms to hold her, a back rub, and a trusted voice telling her things would be okay on the dark days.

Karen was ready to start dating again. She felt confident and wasn’t too daunted by the online dating world, she was used to technology and having to represent herself because she’d done it for years in her work as a writer and photographer. When she was growing up online dating did not exist. Everyone lived for the weekend to go out to bars, and clubs in the hope they would meet someone.  In the 1970s, Kirkcaldy had a vibrant nightlife, and there were lots of places to choose from and live bands often played there when they were on the UK and European tours. Occasionally in the local newspaper, a single lonely-hearts advert would appear, ‘mature lady seeks gentleman companion’, or ‘lonely theatre-going widow would like to meet a man with similar interests’. In Karen’s memory, it was women that placed adverts looking for men, it was rarely a man showing initiative looking for a woman.

A mile or two further north of Kirkcaldy on the Fife coastline was Dysart, and since she was a child, Karen had walked the beach and Ravenscraig Park. When the 18thcentury Harbourmasters House at the Harbour was converted into a café it became her favourite place to sit and have a coffee. It was tranquil enough inside the cafe to sit and read, or to work on a story and let her mind drift off as she took in the harbour view from the nearest window.

She often stood down at the shore and looked across to Edinburgh to pick out the shape of the Castle sitting above the city, with the right weather conditions and good visibility, the ancient Edinburgh skyline was revealed. When an east wind blew in, the sea would roar and spew all sorts onto the beaches. Large tree trunks worn smooth by the tide would appear and within days they were swallowed back up. Now long forgotten but years ago, an east wind was referred to as a sea-coal wind because it littered the beaches with coal and locals would collect it to burn on their home fires. The shoreline walk engaged Karen’s senses, the salty air, the crashing waves, the everchanging seascape with black and white eider ducks bobbing on the current, and the cormorants and shags sitting on the distant, craggy outcrops of rocks.

Ravenscraig Park grew out from around the harbour wall boundary to extend west towards Ravenscraig Castle and on to Kirkcaldy. For centuries the park was home to a wide variety of trees, only storms, lightning strikes and Dutch-elm disease had altered their numbers. Under the tree canopies, vast blankets of blue, white and pink bluebells filled the warm spring mornings with their heady, sweet scent. Walking helped her attune herself with nature, the ancient trees have known Karen all her life and walking amongst them always gave her a feeling of peace.

The cold wind numbed her forehead and tangled and twisted her long brown hair, and gave her a feeling of freedom.

CHAPTER 2

Karen approached the dating websites with a mixture of anticipation and confidence, and she hoped she understood enough about how they worked. She filled in a profile, shared some likes and dislikes but not all of them. Then sprinkled in a few hobbies, added a few photos, and waited for her profile to be approved.

She worked with men but kept her business life separate from her personal life then she reminded herself her ex-lover was one of her friends and her website designer.

Moving into the farmhouse a year ago had given Karen her life back. It was not a big property, but it sat on its own with spacious rooms with large windows allowing the daylight to flood in. It was a quiet spot on the edge of Maryard, an old village in the Fife countryside.

It had been a difficult couple of years divorcing Thomas but when she moved to a new house it marked the start of a new phase for Karen. It filled her with optimism, she felt stronger and open to new experiences in her life. After the split, she put her belongings into storage and moved into her mother’s guest room. This gave her time to adjust to her new life and to think. It was supposed to be for a couple of months while she was house-hunting, but she was diagnosed with early-stage breast cancer and knocked sideways with the shock. This was a time when she really needed a man to hold her and to tell her it was all going to be okay, but that position was vacant.

Living in her mother’s home was an experience she never imaged would happen or one she was capable of navigating because she left the family home in her late teens.  Growing up, her parents, Margaret and Bill, were continually at war. Karen and her younger brother, Steve, would hide in their rooms when the rows started. Their parents played host to dinner parties most weekends, Margaret couldn’t cook but she bought-in food and passed it off as her own, she’d flirt with all the men and end up completely sozzled. The last dinner party Karen remembered, involved them having an argument before the guests arrived, Bill got very drunk, took all the food containers out of the bin, and dumped them on the table between the main course and pudding. She just laughed. They slept in separate bedrooms until he moved out.

When Karen reached 16, she felt imprisoned at home. Her life and Steve’s were controlled by their angry parents’ desire to fill their time outside of school with as many activities as possible regardless if they enjoyed, excelled, or failed. The strict house rules stopped her growing, exploring and experiencing like any other teenage girl.

She made bad decisions in her effort to escape, and got involved with a local lad at 18, and wrecked her career path in art. A route she spent years preparing for was discarded in preference for a short-lived wild teenage marriage, and a honeymoon to York YMCA on the train. The teenage marriage broke the chains of parental control, but in seeking the freedom she desired, she married a jealous, controlling, and violent man who hospitalised her for three days.

Her parents were so enmeshed in their acrimonious marriage they had no room for other dramas. Margaret was successfully operating on a daily bottle of brandy, and Bill was distracted by his numerous affairs revolving around a local meditation class he ran.

Karen was fragile, confused and in shock. She was bruised and haunted by the flashbacks, her emotions were jumbled, and she felt ashamed.

The Police advised her to get legal advice, but within a few weeks of the first incident, her estranged husband stalked and harassed her. She was terrified of meeting him. Fife suddenly became a small county, and she felt imprisoned by her fear and afraid to go out.

One Saturday afternoon, five weeks after the first attack, she had met one of her friends for lunch in Kirkcaldy. Afterwards, she walked along the busy high street and browsed in shop windows.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ said a male voice over her shoulder. As she turned to look she was pushed violently up against the shop window and cracked her head and nose on the glass. Dazed, she turned around to see her husband looking at her.

The shop owner has seen everything and rushed out and helped Karen, he’d seen what had happened, and called the Police after he had taken her into the back of the shop. Her head was cut around her right eyebrow and her nose was bleeding.

On Monday morning she phoned a solicitor and started divorce proceedings and was granted an emergency court interdict for her protection. Karen felt safer knowing if he approached her the Police would arrest him.  She lied and told everyone she was okay, but she lived her life in fear of another attack.

Many months on, Karen relaxed, her ex had gone to ground and there had been no breaches of the injunction. She was getting her life back together and went out with one of her old school friends who had returned to Fife on holiday from St Martins School of Art in London. They had gone into town for drinks and had jumped in a taxi to Bentleys on Victoria Road, a popular Kirkcaldy nightclub in the 1980s, to meet up with more friends. Karen and Sue and their group of friends converged on the club at the same time. Karen was at the rear of the group when her heel had caught in the pavement and had dislodged her shoe, she lagged behind as she pulled it back on. She felt a tug at her small handbag and it disappeared from her hand.  She turned around, and her estranged-husband was looking at her and then he took off, she ran after him. All Karen thought about were the contents of her bag: her money and her house keys. Away from the club entrance and the row of taxis, he grabbed her arm and a handful of her long hair, and dragged her across the road, and marched her away from the club towards the junction of Victoria Road and the traffic lights. He kept looking behind.

‘Get off me!’

‘Give me my bag!’

He ignored Karen.  

He waved down a passing taxi and told her to get in. Karen pleaded with the taxi driver to call the police as she was being held against her will and she had a court order to keep him away from her. The taxi driver ignored her and carried on driving. He refused to make eye contact with her in the rear-view mirror. They pulled up at a junction, Karen grabbed her bag and opened the door of the taxi, she jumped out, ran but fell over the kerb and he went after her. She did not know she was close to the address he wanted to take her too. Unwittingly, she ran closer towards it. He came after her, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the house, and slammed the door shut behind them. He threw her on the sofa and shouted she belonged to him, she was his property and she would never leave him ever again.

The room was dark, dated and had very little furniture. The 1950s interior door had two wooden panels, the bottom section took up two-thirds of the door and had a round dark Bakelite door handle. A modern gas fire had been fitted into the original plain beige tiled fireplace.

His eyes were glazed, he looked deranged, the rasping sounds from his asthmatic chest punctuated his ranting words. He stood in front of the fireplace like he was king of the castle. Karen did not say anything; her heart thumped in her chest. She was breathing too fast. Her mind was playing scenes from horror films. She kept herself in the present but felt she was a spectator watching an awful scene unfold. She tried to slow her breathing down so she could think. She knew she could not reason with this ranting, violent idiot.

She felt a change happen as her anger surfaced, she felt stronger, indignant, and questioned why was this happening to her? Something inside her shifted, she felt annoyed and insulted. Her anger started to build. She went from feeling like a helpless animal to feeling stronger, with an urge to fight.

Suddenly, she jumped to her feet and punched him in the face as hard as she could. He fell over and Karen ran to the door. Fumbling with the handle, she opened the door, two or three steps she was at the front door. The top third had four small panes of glass with a net curtain hanging over them. She felt the net in her hand as she grabbed the round handle on the front door, expecting it to be locked but it opened.  She ran out, down three or four steps, and across the small garden into the street. She did not look back. She had no idea how hard she had hit him or if he was behind her. She ran uphill and turned right onto the main road.  She doubled over, trying to get her breath when a car stopped.

Ready to flee, a kindly voice stopped her.

‘Are you okay?’

It was a taxi, driven by an older man. He had opened the passenger window and was leaning across from the driver’s side.

She lifted her head up.

‘Oh my god, I need to get you to a hospital’ he said.

‘No, I want to go home. Call the Police.’

CHAPTER 3

Karen had changed careers since her first job in London in the 1980s. She worked as a freelance journalist for years, got bored, moved out of the city and into the countryside and established herself as a photographer and then began to write books. Her first book sold and put money in the bank. She worked hard and focused on authoring books and occasionally took on photography assignments, but the book writing had taken over her life, she obsessed about plots, stories, twists, and characters. She never got bored of writing, it gave her a reason for living and it stretched her like nothing else, it opened up her mind and she dipped into her soul for inspiration. It was her calling in life, but she had to work hard for it and fight to keep it. Years before she married for the second time, and when Karen was still living in London, she had a boyfriend who had wangled his way into her life and tried hard to make himself indispensable in her business life. One day Karen had a call from a long-standing client.

‘Hi Karen, this is Miles, can you talk?

‘Hi Miles, yes I can.’

‘Are you on your own?’

‘Yes, why?’ she asked.

Karen sat down and gave the call her full attention.

‘Okay. I had a call from Louis this morning. I didn’t remember him, but he told me we had met at one of the PR launches at Crofton Books in town.

‘Why was he calling you?’

‘At first, I wasn’t sure, then he started telling me he was getting more involved in running your business and promoting you as a writer, and personally, he was looking to settle in the UK. He said he had big plans and wanted to attract the attention of film producers and scriptwriters because he felt you were not getting enough publicity for your writing.’

‘That’s bizarre!’ It was definitely Louis?’

‘Yes, I am sure it was him.’

‘That’s not all, Karen. I am telling you this because I think he is up to something, and I am not trying to spoil the surprise.’

She took a deep breath.

‘A surprise?’

‘He wanted to do all this to show his love for you and get all your business affairs in order before he proposed.’

‘Really? Propose to me?’

‘Why the hell would he say that? And, more importantly, my work has nothing to do with him?’

‘He said he had organised lots of meetings and planned on promoting you in the USA when he returned there next week. Anyway, I told him if there was anything connected with your writing that I would be in contact with you. He started backtracking and offered to come out and see me, so we could work more closely to make sure of your success.’

‘Next week?’

‘Yes, he said he was going back next week.’

‘What a nerve! He had said nothing to me.’

‘I thought it was odd. I have worked with you for years, but that call was strange, Karen.’

‘Thanks for telling me, Miles. I’m grateful you called. I will sort this out and I am sorry if he wasted your time.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, I am good, thanks. Can we catch up next week? I am supposed to be in town next Thursday for a meeting with the Editor of The Field and River, so I will be free from lunchtime.’

‘Yes, that is perfect for me. I’m free on Thursday, why don’t we have lunch?’

‘Great, and I will look forward to it.’

‘Take care Karen, if you need any help just call. I’ll book a table somewhere nice.’

‘Thanks, Miles, and if you get any more phone calls, please let me know, and don’t say you have spoken to me about it either.’

‘See you next week.’

Sitting back in her chair, Karen wondered what was going on. She had an odd feeling from time to time about Louis, but his charm distracted her.

Louis had left two of his bags at her flat. She wondered who he was meeting and if he was trying to sneak around with more of her contacts and business partners. The bags were purposely tucked away at the back of the guest room and with his beige overcoat slung over them. She picked up one of the bags by the handle, it felt heavier than it looked. She rifled through the clothes not really knowing what she was looking for. She zipped it back up, took it by the handle and dumped it on the floor. She lifted the second bag up, it was much lighter and placed it on the bed. It had a small padlock on the zipper.

‘Damn!’ said Karen.

Her insides were churning over and over, she knew she was going to find something she did not like.

She took a guess at the combination, and slid the dials around: 1, then 9, then 6, and then 0.

There was a click, she smiled.

‘Ha! Bingo!’

The lock popped opened. Karen searched through the bag, it did not have as many clothes as the first bag, it had more paperwork and folders. At the bottom of the bag, something caught her eye because it looked so familiar. It was her business account chequebook.

‘What the hell!’ said Karen.

She flicked through the stubs and could see there were four blanks ones. She was meticulous about her business accounts and kept records of everything.

‘Thieving bastard!’

Back at her desk, she called her bank to ask about the processing of the missing cheques, the assistant confirmed four cheques had been cashed in the Bromley branch for £1,500. Karen said someone was fraudulently using her chequebook and was promptly transferred to the fraud department.

Something else niggled her. Karen searched through both bags again, pulled out the folders and flicked through the paperwork.

Louis had made loads of notes about Karen’s routines, where she kept her car keys and car registration, details of her bank accounts, and bank cards. She also found one of her rarely used credit cards, with a yellow Post-it stuck on the front with the correct pin number. He had made a list of her email accounts, and their passwords.

‘What a fool!’

Louis had been a charming man, and a great boyfriend, someone she enjoyed having around and felt they had a future because they got on so well. He was supportive of her writing projects, and always wanted to help.

Karen felt sick.

She didn’t suspect a thing and saw his acts of kindness and offers of help for what she thought they were. Instead, they were ways of getting closer to her money and business. He had been setting it all up to defraud her before he left the UK for the USA.

As she looked back inside the bag, she almost missed a dark brown leather wallet sitting flat in the bottom, it looked like the sort of document holder used for a passport and airline tickets. It had gold embossed initials ‘RMG’.

Karen pulled at the leather flap and the studs popped open, she found a travel itinerary and plane tickets back to JFK Airport in New York, along with a passport. She opened the passport and looked at the photograph. It was Louis but he looked different, his haircut was odd, he had a moustache and the name was Roberto Mason Gonzales. The airline tickets were booked for five days time leaving from Heathrow.

Lying back on the bed, Karen stared at the ceiling of her guest room and took a deep breath. The window was open, and the faint burble of London traffic on the south circular floated into the room.

Her Nokia phone vibrated in her pocket.

‘Hello, my gorgeous girlfriend, I hope your day is going well? I look forward to seeing you later today, missing you and loving you more than you will ever know. Louis xxx’

‘For god’s sake!’

She wondered what she should do? Reply to him? Ignore him?

Karen didn’t do anything for a few minutes.

She sent a short reply, ‘sorry, driving will text later.’ That was a standard reply if she was in the car, and one he would not register as odd. It was important she had time to think.

Trying to take it all in was hard, but oddly enough, she wasn’t shocked.  She had gone from having a straightforward day into one of chaos and deceit. Karen was not one for making impulsive decisions, she wanted some time to consider what had happened and weigh up her options. Leaving the two bags lying on the bed, she closed the guest room door, walked across the hall into the open plan sitting room. As she filled the kettle with water, she looked around her flat and saw a few things belonging to Louis. They had been placed in certain areas to remind her of him, a book by her bookcase, some photographs of them together, his coat hanging next to hers, a notebook with his business ideas for her lying on her desk. He had never talked about these things, they appeared overnight. Was it all staged for her benefit and part of his deceit? As the kettle boiled she gathered all his belongings together and put them in a carrier bag and took it through to the guest room and dumped it on the bed next to his bags. Each movement she made, each item she picked up belonging to him helped her process what had happened. He had used her, manipulated, and conned her all the time they had been together. Blindsided by his charm and attentive nature, she had not been able to see his duplicity.  The whole relationship had been a lie. It was a devious plan to get to her business and money.

She wanted him out of her life and all trace of him removed from her flat.

Sitting down at her desk with a cup of tea, she made a few notes. Her mind started racing as it replayed lots of different scenes with Louis, and how he had conned her with his charisma. While she was failing for Louis the American gentleman with manners, kindness and grace, Roberto the Conman had wheedled his way into her life, finances, and business. Everyone had fallen for him. She looked at her notepad and wondered why she had been so gullible?  

‘Why did I not see it happening?’

‘What an idiot!’

Louis was due back to her flat in Forest Hill around late afternoon, this gave Karen enough time to sort out what she wanted to do. She called Justine Blackwood, her lawyer, who advised her to report everything to the Police. Both advised Karen to leave the flat, lock it up and go stay with a friend.

She texted Bernie.

‘Can I stay at yours tonight?’ Will explain later over wine.’

Justine took over once she had a promise from Karen that she was going to leave the flat. A locksmith was called in to change the locks on Karen’s flat within the hour. Justine phoned Louis and told him the relationship he had with Karen was over, and he was to stay away and on no account attempt to contact her. She had timed the call to him while he travelled on the train to Forest Hill. She made no mention of the Police. He laughed, and said very little to Justine, he agreed he would not contact Karen or attempt to enter her property. The Police waited at Forest Hill train Station. He resisted arrest and assaulted two police officers.

He was held in custody for 48 hours then Roberto Mason Gonzales was on his way back to Heathrow airport where he was transported back to the States into the hands of the waiting authorities. Justine did her homework and discovered lots of things about Roberto the Conman. There were several arrest warrants out for him, and most of them were connected to fraudulent activity with previous wives and girlfriends. He was a serial bigamist and had five wives and was only divorced from the first one.  

Karen chided herself a little for not listening to her gut instinct, all along she had a niggle but had fallen for the Louis charm overload.

She spent the evening at Bernie’s and told her everything.

The following Thursday Karen had lunch with Miles.

‘He was not called Louis, his passport said his name was Roberto Mason Gonzales.’

‘Now, that’s funny, because when he called me, I didn’t really catch his name and asked him to repeat it, and then he said it is Louis, Karen’s partner,’ said Miles.

‘Now I know his other name was Roberto, I think that’s how he introduced himself, then he corrected himself when I asked him to repeat it.’

‘What is wrong with people?’ Karen sighed and looked out of the restaurant window across The Strand, where a group of people gathered around the front doors of the art deco Adelphi Theatre.  

‘I approach everything in life as positively as I can. I never thought I’d be duped by a serial bigamist and fraudster.’

CHAPTER 4

When Karen’s love and business interests became serious, she would have them checked out by Justine, and made sure her assets were kept safe and secure. And when it came to marriage she did not let her guard down and had lengthy discussions with Justine on how to go about protecting everything she had worked for and owned before she committed to marrying Thomas.

Although Thomas came with nothing, he never asked for anything directly, but he did put himself in the position where he needed her help. After Karen told him she was unhappy and wanted a divorce, he did nothing, and acted as though nothing had happened, and went to work at the bookshop where he was the manager. He took offence when Karen moved all his belongings into the guest room. She wondered if he had listened to their conversation and taken her seriously.  

‘We need to get the ball rolling with the legal stuff.’

Thomas looked puzzled.

‘For what?’

‘The divorce!’ said Karen.

‘Oh,’

‘You still want to go ahead with it?’

‘Thomas, what planet are you on? We have been unhappy for years, and I have known about your affairs.’

‘I’m not having an affair.’

‘Look, I do not care. Do whatever you want but we need to get the separation sorted, and find out how we can divorce.’