The Adulterer's Daughter: A Novel

by Sam Anthony

  She placed three used glasses on the bar and sashayed over to join them, wiping her hands on her apron. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

  “How’s your spelling?” said Eric.

  “Shit, why?”

  “Tell us how many words on this list are spelt incorrectly.”

  She studied the list.

  Steve, Eric and Ollie studied her chest.

  She looked up.

  They looked up, reluctantly.

  “One?” she said. “I know ‘rhythm’ is wrong, but the rest are okay, aren’t they?”

  Ollie turned to Eric. “Okay, I’m saying six, Steve’s saying three and Mandy’s saying one. Which of us is correct?”

  “None of you,” said Eric. “The correct answer is fifteen.”

  “Huh? There are only fourteen words.”

  “‘Mispelled’ was misspelled too. Here are the correct spellings.” He handed the second sheet of paper to Ollie, who glanced at it before passing it to Steve, who studied it more carefully before passing it to Mandy, who gave it back to Eric without looking at it at all.

  supersede

  concede

  proceed

  idiosyncrasy

  consensus

  accommodate

  impresario

  rhythm

  ophthalmologist

  diphtheria

  anomaly

  aficionado

  caesarean

  graffiti

  “Thanks for your help, Mandy,” said Steve with a wink.

  Six hungry eyes followed her retreating bottom all the way back to the bar.

  “So what was the point of that, Eric? Were you just trying to make us look ignorant?”

  “No, I was demonstrating what an interesting language we have, with all the weird silent letters and unnecessary double letters.”

  “What’s on your third piece of paper? We might as well get this over with.”

  “Here.” He passed it to Ollie.

  What’s cool about this group of words?

  Study this paragraph and all of its words. What’s vitally wrong with it? Actually, nothing in it is wrong, but you must admit it’s most unusual. Don’t just zip through it quickly, but study it scrupulously. With luck, you’ll spot what’s particular about this curious paragraph? Can you say what it is? Apply your brain and try again. Don’t miss out a word or a symbol. It isn’t all that difficult.

  Ollie read it through three times. “Looks fine to me. Steve?”

  Steve read it through once. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Look again.”

  They looked once more.

  “Well?”

  “No idea.”

  “Ooh, you’re so close. A no-eye deer is what you call a deer with no eyes. That’s a big clue.”

  “What’s he talking about, Ollie?”

  Ollie shrugged.

  “Come on, Stuv. You can get this.”

  “Why did you call me Stuv?”

  “That’s how you pronounce your name, isn’t it? S-T-V, Stuv.”

  “What …? Oh, I get it. Not no eyes, no e’s. There are no e’s anywhere in that paragraph.”

  “Exactly. It’s the most common letter in the English language by far, but there are no e’s anywhere. That’s why it looks weird.”

  “Can we talk about the cricket now?” said Ollie, hopefully. “How are we going to get Graeme Smith out? He’s on fire.”

  “Not yet, mate. I’ve got one more question for you.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “Can you tell me a sentence with five ands in a row?”

  “You mean ‘and and and and and’?”

  “Yep.”

  “Next to each other?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They thought.

  “Am I allowed to stutter?” asked Ollie.

  “No. I want a proper sentence that makes grammatical sense.”

  They thought some more.

  “I’ve got nothing. Steve?”

  “Nor me.”

  Eric resumed his smug look. “Have you ever noticed the sign above the door outside this pub?”

  “Of course.”

  “Describe it.”

  “Okay, there’s a picture of a hare being chased through a field by some dogs.”

  “And underneath it says …?”

  “Hare And Hounds.”

  “One word? Hareandhounds?”

  “No, three separate words.”

  “How do you know it’s three separate words?”

  “Because of the gaps.”

  “What gaps?”

  “The two gaps between Hare and And and And and Hounds.”

  “There you go. Five ands in a row.”

  “Hey, that’s not bad.”

  “If you’re impressed by that, I can tell you a sentence with eleven hads in a row.”

  “Bullshit!”

  *FT 13657 (Alberich)

  Chapter 12

  Monday 4 August, 2003

  McDougal living room, 9:15 p.m.

  Serena located the sexiest scene and then rewound the movie, pausing it five minutes before the first kiss.

  She checked her outfit in the mirror. It was just the right blend of classy and revealing that Eric used to love when they were first married.

  Then she waited for him to return home.

  ◆◆◆

  She heard the crunch of tires on the gravel drive, the keys in the lock, the door bang, and footsteps on the wooden floor.

  Eric walked into the living room.

  “Hi,” she said. “Have you eaten?”

  “Yes, thanks. I had a bite at work. That canteen food is bloody awful, but I was so hungry I decided to chance it.”

  “Drink?” she suggested. “A nice glass of wine?”

  “I’d better not. A cup of tea would be nice, though.”

  Serena fetched Eric’s drink and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.”

  He had chosen the single chair, so she reclined on the sofa, making sure her legs were on full display.

  She pressed play.

  Eric sipped his tea.

  On the TV, the kissing began. Then the fondling. Then the sucking.

  Eric crossed his legs.

  When the pounding started, Eric swallowed three-quarters of his mug of tea in a single gulp, and got to his feet. He stretched. He yawned. “I’m bushed. Think I’ll head up. You coming?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer.

  Serena managed to hold off until Eric reached the top of the stairs before she burst into tears.

  ◆◆◆

  Twenty minutes later, hair brushed and make-up reapplied, Serena entered the bedroom and sat next to her husband on the bed.

  “Eric, we need to talk.”

  Oh, God! thought Eric. What is it now?

  Serena waited for a response.

  He put on a fake smile. “What about?”

  “You want us to have a baby, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. We’ve had this conversation many times. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

  “Then don’t you think we need to …”

  “Just a sec, babe. I think that was my phone.”

  Serena hadn’t heard anything. “Was it?”

  “Yes. Oh, no!” He frowned at the screen. “I was worried this might happen.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “One of my patients has deteriorated. I’m going to have to operate again.” He climbed out of bed and began to unbutton his pyjama top.

  “Now?”

  “I’m afraid so. The sooner I get the bleeding back under control, the better her chances of a full recovery.”

  “Can’t someone else do it?”

  “I’m on-call. I have to go in. I’m sorry. If it all goes well, I should be back in a couple of hours. Three at the most. Don’t wait up.”

  He kissed his wife on the forehead, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  ◆◆◆

&nb
sp; Eric drove for seven miles in the direction of the hospital until he found a quiet lay-by where he stopped the car. He reclined his seat, folded his arms, closed his eyes, and within ten minutes he was asleep.

  He awoke three hours later, sweaty and uncomfortable, then drove home, crept into the house, and went to bed in the spare room, so as not to wake Serena.

  Chapter 13

  Saturday 9 August, 2003

  The pub, 9:40 p.m.

  Mia weaved her way back to the table, precariously clutching a pint of lager, a gin and tonic and a mojito. “Only two days until our vacation,” she said with a grin. “I hope everyone’s packed.”

  “I haven’t even started,” said Fiona. “I’ll probably just chuck everything into the car at the last minute, like I usually do.”

  “I’ve made a few piles of my stuff, but I’ll leave Eric to sort out his own things.”

  Three weeks into her summer holiday, Mia was finally beginning to wind down. “I hope this weather continues. They say tomorrow’s going to be the hottest day in the U.K. since records began.”

  “Oh, God. The beaches are going to be heaving.” Fiona wiped the sweat from her forehead. “This campsite better have decent showers. I’m going to need a cold one every twenty minutes to cool off.”

  “Who needs showers? We can just jump into the sea,” said Serena.

  “There’s no way I’m going anywhere near the water.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “No one wants to see two tonnes of cellulite waddling it’s way down the beach.”

  “Oh, Fiona, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve got a lovely figure.”

  “Thanks, Mia, but I know you’re just saying that to be nice.”

  “I mean it.”

  A burst of laughter erupted from the other side of the room, but it was just a group of youths absorbed in their own conversation.

  “So, what are we discussing this evening, Serena?” said Mia, with a wink.

  “Sex, as you know full well because I mentioned it last month.”

  “Really? I assumed you were joking.” Fiona took a sip of her drink. “I suspect the boys talk about sex every time they get together, but I thought our conversations were more … highbrow.”

  “Well, it’s my turn. I considered nineteenth century Russian literature and Pre-Raphaelite art, but then I thought, fuck it. I want to talk about sex.”

  Mia looked forlorn. “Well, there’s not going to be much sex for us on this vacation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re bloody camping! The walls are just thin sheets of canvas. You can’t even fart without everyone within fifty yards hearing it.”

  Serena couldn’t help giggling.

  “It’s so inconvenient,” said Mia. “The combination of sun, sea, alcohol, and no housework hanging over my head always makes me horny, but I won’t be able to let myself go.”

  “Can’t you just have sex quietly?” Serena asked.

  Fiona snorted. “I can. Especially if I don’t have to fake an orgasm. It’s Steve who makes all the racket. You should hear him; he roars like a wild animal when he comes.”

  “What kind of animal?”

  “A grizzly bear who was having a perfectly nice day until he accidentally put his foot in a bear trap.”

  “That sounds good. You should be flattered,” said Mia. “Ollie has very quiet orgasms. Sometimes I can’t even tell he’s finished. I guess that’s the price we pay for having thin walls and kids in the adjacent rooms.”

  “So, will you two actually be having sex in the tent?” said Fiona, aghast.

  Mia nodded. “I certainly hope so. There’s something very erotic about slow, silent sex after a hard day’s drinking and sunbathing.”

  Fiona couldn’t believe it. “But what if we hear you? What if the children hear you?”

  “It’s no big deal. They’re all old enough now to know about the birds and the bees. The most they’ll hear is a couple of grunts and a sigh, anyway.”

  Serena shook her head. “I doubt Eric will be getting frisky at all this holiday. Nothing seems to turn him on these days.”

  “I can’t believe that. I’m sure the sight of your tanned, fit body in a tiny bikini will get him going.”

  “I wish.”

  “Well, it’ll definitely get Ollie going.”

  Serena’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s always had an eye for a gorgeous figure.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “Not at all. I don’t mind other women getting his juices flowing as long as he comes home and takes out his sexual frustration on me.”

  “I’m not sure I’d be quite that understanding if Steve lusted after other women.”

  “How do you know he doesn’t?” Serena asked.

  “Steve? He’s too obsessed with recycling and saving the planet to even notice other women. And his libido isn’t what it was in our younger days either.”

  Fiona’s eyes went out of focus, and she was lost to a faraway look until Serena asked her next question.

  “How do you two seduce your husbands?”

  “What do you mean?” said Mia.

  “When you’re … in the mood, how do you get them to make love to you?”

  Fiona answered first. “Oh, I leave all that stuff up to Steve now. I can’t be bothered anymore. If he makes the first move, and we’re getting on all right, I’m usually amenable, but I wouldn’t dream of initiating sex these days. For fear of rejection, if nothing else.”

  “Does he ever reject your advances?”

  After some thought, Fiona shook her head. “No, to be fair, but he does give off a kind of aura sometimes that says Not now, love. Don’t even ask. I’ll let you know when I’m up for it.”

  “So sex is always on his terms?”

  “I guess so, but I don’t mind. Sometimes he …” She paused.

  “What?”

  Fiona’s faced flushed even redder. “Nothing. What about you, Mia? How do you seduce Ollie?”

  “I rarely have to. If either of us is up for it, we just ask. He’ll say ‘Sex?’ or I’ll say ‘Rumpy?’ and off we’ll go. Sometimes even words aren’t necessary. He’ll start caressing one of my breasts or I’ll run my hand up his inner thigh. That usually does the trick. Unless …”

  “Unless what?”

  “He does have these occasional black moods when he worries about all the different types of cancer he might get, and he convinces himself he’s going to die young.”

  Serena nodded.

  “A quick blowjob usually perks him up, though.”

  Serena nodded again.

  Fiona made a face like she was sucking a lemon dipped in fresh dog shit.

  “When’s the last time you had sex?” Serena said, looking at Mia.

  “Erm … Thursday night? Yes, that’s right. I was already in bed, and he jumped my bones when he came back from taking Lord for a walk.”

  “How was it?”

  “Short and sweet. No foreplay required. He came quickly, but that didn’t matter because I did too. Sorry, is that too much information?”

  “No, it’s fascinating. What about you, Fi?”

  “About four weeks ago, I guess.”

  “Where?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “In bed? In the shower? On the kitchen table?”

  Fiona mopped her forehead again. “I’d rather not say, if you don’t mind.”

  “Intriguing,” said Mia. “We’ll have to get her drunk on holiday and wheedle it out of her.”

  “Good plan.” Serena looked back to Mia. “What about oral? When’s the last time you did that?”

  “Him on me or me on him?”

  “Both.”

  “At the same time or …?”

  “I can’t remember the last time we had a sixty-nine,” Fiona interrupted with a sigh. “Sorry, carry on.”

  “The last time Ollie went down on me was last Sunday morning
.”

  “Did you reciprocate?”

  “No, we had sex straight after I came. I can’t remember the last time I went down on him. That’s bad, isn’t it? I guess it’s my turn. Perhaps I’ll surprise him in the shower in the morning.”

  “Fiona?”

  “I refer my learned friend to my previous answer: I’d rather not say.”

  “Spoken like a true solicitor. But you won’t be able to resist our interrogation after a couple of bottles of wine. You wait and see.”

  Fiona laughed. “I will not be getting rat-arsed in Cornwall. Not in front of Ava.”

  “Challenge accepted,” said Mia.

  “Do you two ever …?”

  “What?”

  Serena made a rapid wiggling motion with her finger.

  “What?”

  “You know. Down there.” She nodded towards her lap and wiggled her finger some more, even faster.

  Mia – who had already imbibed three strong mojitos – raised her voice. “Serena McDougal, are you asking us if we masturbate?”

  “Shhhh!”

  Fiona giggled. “I think she is, you know.”

  Serena waited for the staring heads to return to their previous conversations.

  “Well, do you?”

  “Of course,” said Mia. “Everybody does. Fiona?”

  “She’s right. In fact, the older I get, the more I do it.”

  “And the more intense the orgasms are,” Mia added, and Fiona nodded in agreement.

  “How many do you have?”

  “Orgasms?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “With Ollie or on my own?”

  “On your own.”

  “If I’m using my fingers, just one. But with a vibrator, three or four if I’ve got time.”

  “And with Ollie?”

  “Usually just one, unless he goes down on me first. There was a time when he would never penetrate me until I’d had at least one climax, but those days are long gone. Now it’s more a case of How quickly can I get this cock in there?”