Chapter 1 harry

Harry had always been the centre of attention. He was always one of the first to be picked for a team in PE, despite not being that sporty. Being with Harry carried prestige amongst his fellow pupils. He didn’t have the gift of the gab either. He was intelligent enough to stay out of the bottom class, but he was not top of the class he was in.
He did have handsome good looks, a slim physique and a charming charisma to attract people to him.
As a teenager, Harry was never without a girlfriend. He didn’t have to go looking for one. Bold girls came to him. If he finished with one, there was always another girl who was only too glad to take her place. He never had to justify his position in a relationship - usually because they did not last long enough. He girlfriends bent over backwards to please him because they wanted to stay with him a long as they could. No one ever criticised him for bad behaviour towards them. As a consequence, Harry grew up to be a conceited ladies’ man.
He left school after completing his exams at sixteen. He did not get the grades he was supposed to get because instead of staying at home to study, he was out every night on a date, or enjoying himself with his mates. He did not see the point in staying on to re-sit.
He was lucky to get an apprenticeship in a Taylor’s shop. However, once he started working there, his boss realised that Harry’s youth and good looks might work in their favour. He was taken out of the back sewing room and put in the shop. He did some modelling for them, wearing the most up to date and classic suits. His pictures were all over the shop and at all the other local branches. As ‘front of house’ in the shop, he was expected to look his best. He had to be clean shaven, his hair had to be neat and tidy, his shoes had to be cleaned and shined to a polish. He was not allowed to wear any jewellery except for a watch or a wedding band (he was NOT going to wear one of those).
Harry took to continuing the look outside of work too. He would turn up for a date with a smooth chin, a beautifully cut three piece suit, fitted shirt and tie. His socks would match his shiny shoes. When his friends complained about not being able to get in to a night club because they were wearing jeans, he had no such problem. He didn’t own a pair of jeans. The only casual wear he owned was what he wore to go to the gym and keep his body in trim. His version of casual was still smart, and came straight off the golfing greens.
Even on the hottest day in summer, he would not go without his trademark shirt and tie and he would not wear shorts, no matter how stylish they were.
At work, he was polite, considerate and hard working. He never raised his voice, never swore and yet achieved high sales figures.
At home, when he was in, he appreciated his family around him. He took longer to get ready in the morning than his sister, spending much of that time checking himself in the mirror. His mother got so sick of his complaints about her ironing, that she stopped doing it and made him do it himself.
When he met up with his own friends, he was as popular as ever, but he rarely got drunk and never took drugs of any kind. He did not need to take Dutch courage to ask a girl for a dance, after all. He either had one on his arm at the start of the night, or he simply absorbed one through the course of an evening. He might start off with one girl, then leave with another.
He thought normal rules about dating did not apply to him. He had his own rules, which was... there are no rules! He often had two girlfriends at the same time, who did not know the other existed. He would see them on alternate evenings. Take them out to places where they would not bump into each other.
Of course, he was found out!
He was labelled as a serial love cheat, but that did not stop other girls falling into his lap.
He lived in an era before mobile phones and computer technology, so he did not have to be in constant contact with his girls.
He might ring when he got in from work, agree on a meeting time and place, consume his evening meal, get changed and head out. At the end of the evening, he might arrange another date at a specific time and meeting place the following week.
Sometimes he forgot.
Sometimes, he decided to meet up with someone else instead... at the other end of town!

In his early twenties, he moved his own flat. Well, it wasn’t entirely his own, it was rented, the furniture came with the property, too. He could walk to work and the bus station easily. A friend of a friend moved in as his flat mate, so that they could share the bills and rent. Other than that, they lived completely separate lives.
By this time, he was bringing girls home on a regular basis, he would make love with them at night and expect them out in the morning.
He rarely checked to see if they were taking the contraceptive pill and would only wear a condom if the woman insisted. As a consequence, he knew exactly were the sexual health clinic was and he knew exactly what treatment was available. He’d also got more than one girl pregnant, then refused to have anything more to do with them.
He did not want a long term relationship. Why would he? He could do what he wanted in the flat, with no one telling him when he needed to tidy up. He did not want to be tied down with a wife and... ugh... children! He did not care what the girl did with the baby. She could have an abortion or bring the ‘thing’ up on her own. That was her choice. It had nothing to do with him, but he also made it clear that he was not going to contribute to any child’s life, financially or otherwise.
He could be sitting at home, watching the telly with one girl sprawled over his lap, while he talked on the phone to another girl. Well, should that scenario occur, he talked as little as possible, replied with yes and no answers, agreed an a meeting time, then hung up, made up a name and say “that was Robert. I’m going to have a game of pool with him tomorrow at ‘the ship inn’. You should come... it should be fun...!”
Of course, he expected the girl to refuse. Just as well because it was all a big lie.
He lied a lot to his girlfriends. Sometimes he got found out. Sometimes he didn’t. It really did not make any difference to him.

As he became older, professionally, he stared with the same company and gained a couple of promotions. It meant working in a bigger shop further away in the chain, but he had more responsibility and a larger salary.
His male friends got married one by one and many of them moved away.
In his early thirties, Harry now had his own (mortgaged) flat in a fashionable area of town. Yet, he had not changed his lifestyle. He was still going out clubbing two or three times a week. He might spend the daytime at the weekends at home, catching up on sleep and other mundanities, but every evening he went out for something. It might be for a meal, it might be to the pictures, it might be the quiz night at the pub. He always had female company though.