David Hunter and his glamorous wife, Barbara, are finally waving goodbye to the world-famous Crossroads
Motel. Central Television chopped the roles of Hunter (played for 14 years by Ronald Allen) and Barbara (Sue Lloyd).
And 14 million faithful viewers are left wondering: While the TV show goes on, what happens to the Hunters, now they
have bowed out?
Today, your Soap-happy Sun comes to the rescue. Here is Day One of a complete unabridged, totally
UN-authorised account of what MIGHT happen to this glamorous couple, in a new life, far from Crossroads...
******
They strolled, arms round each other, like young lovers. In the warm, bright, spring sunshine, children
swarmed around them, giggling at the monkeys. "I haven't been near a zoo for years," Barbara said. "Donkey's years,
in fact."
David smiled at her little joke. He watched the smaller children, toddling in and out of the thronging
crowd. "Well, we haven't had a lot of time to do anything much, by way of leisure," he said. This, Barbara vowed,
was no time for sour reaction on the way he HAD found time in the past for "leisure." No point in going over bleak thoughts
of betrayal, mistresses, babies, perhaps the fear or a return to the old gambling mania. It was all in the past.
It had to be.
She unravelled their arms and took her husband by the hand. "Oh I say," she gasped, in pretended horror.
"Avert your gaze from these baboons! They're just too rude for words!" He did look, though.
And, to her relief, laughed. Only a little. But at least, it was a laugh.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, the Hunters had time to relax. To saunter or to run,
just as they pleased. Sometimes - and more often, just now, than in the exhausting, exasperating days running the motel
- to make love. Last night, in the luxury of someone else's hotel, it had been especially good, for Barbara anyway.
The vast downy bed, the lights dimmed nearly, but not quite, to nothing. The champagne still bubbling
in their minds...last night, especially, it had seemed possible to put behind, forever, that black unhappiness.
Now David was far away in thought. Gazing at a tiny baby being carried in a blue sling, on its bearded
young father's chest. "What is it, David?" He eyed her for several seconds. He said nothing. But the
look he gave his wife betrayed more than enough. You KNOW. You KNOW what it is. And she
did know, of course. It was the baby. Sarah and the baby. His baby. The baby he was forbidden ever
to set eyes on.
Poor David. Bloody Sarah. Bloody, bloody Sarah.
******
That evening, in a smart cocktail bar, David sat on a stool, one elbow on the polished counter. He
stared across at the little crowd of laughing chattering people surrounding his wife. Mostly, they were her friends
from a previous life. A life before His and Hers.
She looked dazzingly bright, and was clearly giving them enormous amusement. If ever he had felt he
needed Barbara, needed to be with her, it was now. He needed peace of mind. But still...
If only I could see my little son.
