Through the Dark Keyhole

by Rosalyn Richardson

  Eventually, I had a good talk to my mother and to the carers and we all mutually agreed that my mother would be best put into residential care. My mother seemed very keen on the idea. Not only would she have constant care, but company as well. This was very quickly arranged and she was thoughtfully placed in a care home not far from me.

  I made sure that I visited her as regularly as I could, which was every other day, and for once in my life, we had become closer, and even more like friends.

  However, it wasn’t her fault that Neil and I had started to grow apart.

  Within two months, my mother passed away peacefully. Although, of course I did grieve, I was thankful that we had had the time together to have the relationship we had never been allowed to have before, and she was now no longer in pain.

  But Neil and I didn’t seem to get back on track even though I was now back to my previous lifestyle. Our sex life – I say sex because it no longer seemed like love making, had now dwindled considerably.

  I could understand it during the time my mother had been alive, as I was tired most of the time or not even at home because of spending nights at her house, and Neil must have felt neglected.

  I noticed that Neil seemed to be away a lot more and seemed to always have a reason or excuse for not taking me abroad with him. He used to say that he needed me to man the office now that we were busier than ever. This was very true; in fact, I had cut my clients down to just one or two now as I was mainly taking on Neil’s work, as much as I could.

  I did notice that his flight bookings were mostly for the Ukraine, rather than his general list of customers overseas.

  When I tried to ask him out of interest, he didn’t really respond, but just said that his business was still expanding and spreading to new areas, which I should expect and understand. So, I left it at that.

  I was soon to find out painfully, that this wasn’t about work at all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There was a setting in a famous film that I had watched a few years ago where, a man is always going away on business, or when at home, often meets up with a business partner after work. The woman, who has a temporary part time job in a café notices one day a couple sitting together and he presents the woman he is with, who appears to be his wife, with a massive bouquet of flowers. Rather than being blown away by this generous gift she says, looking at him with piercing eyes, “Never trust a man, be it your husband or partner, if he brings you flowers, he’s more than likely having an affair.” Then she throws them at him and storms out. The husband, rather than looking indignant at her accusation, looks decidedly sheepish, to say the least.

  You can imagine that my mind immediately steered to this film, when Neil had started arriving from the airport with a beautiful array of flowers each time. I told myself not to be ridiculous, that it was only a film. However, it did prey on my mind, especially as Neil began to be a person I no longer seemed to know. His whole persona had changed. He became quite distant in both mind and body. We very rarely went out together for dinner or anywhere for a break from work. Our evenings were often spent either watching television with Neil only half watching, as he was always on his computer, or when he was relaxing, he was mostly listening to his classical music, spread out on the settee with his eyes closed.

  I did suggest that we have a talk as I was really worried about him; about us. I asked him if he wasn’t feeling well, which seemed to irritate him unintentionally.

  “I’m just resting – is that a crime?” he snapped at me one evening.

  “Of course not,” I replied trying not to ignite matters into a row.

  “Oh! I’m going to work if you’re going to start getting on my case,” he said curtly and picked up his coat and briefcase and headed for the door.

  I wasn’t sure what time he came back home, but it must have been in the early hours of the morning because when I got up during the night, he was flat-out asleep on the settee. I didn’t disturb him but went back to bed and listened to my radio, with my earphones and eventually drifted off to sleep.

  The following morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon cooking. As I came down the stairs, it was as though a transformation had taken place.

  Neil was busy cooking breakfast and the aroma of coffee wafted through the living room. That was the first hint. Neil vary rarely drank coffee, so I could safely assume that he had made it for me. Even this was progress, for all those little things which he used to do, seemed to be a thing of the past. I could even hear him whistling to himself.

  He turned as I came into the kitchen and smiled as he put my plate of scrambled eggs and the coffee pot on to the table.

  “You seem a lot brighter this morning,” I remarked trying not to sound intrusive and send him back the other way again.

  As he sat down opposite me he replied, “Yes, I’m fine, I’ve just been really overtired and work has been piling up recently.”

  “You should have said. I’d have worked longer hours to take some of the weight off you. I’m not shy of hard work,” I said, still trying to keep the mood light as the atmosphere felt very tenuous still.

  I felt Neil was almost brushing aside what I had just said and not acknowledging it. However, he did seem a lot brighter and that was something to be grateful for, maybe at last we could get back on track after a very rocky period.

  He suddenly broke my train of thought when he said, “Natasha, I would like you to have a bit of a break here and there.”

  “A break? What, you mean go off somewhere?” I asked, confused.

  “No, I meant, have some “me” time. We’ve both been under a lot of pressure these last few months, well, longer for you, with your mum being ill and everything. I think you should come to work in the morning and then spend some time and money on yourself for a change. I don’t mind what it is, a spa etc., just pamper yourself, and I will give you the money.”

  I was a bit taken aback. “You’ve just said that you have been snowed under with work and now you are suggesting I work part time?” I asked confused.

  “I’m talking about now,” he tried to reason with me. “It has been hectic but I’m on top of things now,” he assured me. I didn’t realise how true that sentence literally was!

  “Well, okay,” I responded. “I’ll give it a go.” I smiled and kissed him on the cheek and went and finished getting ready for work.

  Neil, as good as his word; when drawing our weekly wages from the firm, would also give me a handsome amount for my personal spending during my time off in the afternoon.

  At first it seemed like good fun, shopping and travelling on the train to Leeds and Manchester, even sometimes as far as York. I did go to the spa a few times and spent time shopping, updating my wardrobe. Eventually though, the novelty wore off. I had joined a lady’s gym but it was usually two or three times a week in the evening. I enjoyed going there at that time of day, as I made some friends who came in after work. The afternoons though, were becoming a drag. There wasn’t that much housework to do with it just being the two of us and it was only a small cottage.

  I had thought about signing up for a college course which I could attend in the afternoon, but to be honest, I preferred the evening classes.

  Eventually, I mentioned this to Neil and said perhaps I could restart my client list again, and pursue my own business once more. He wasn’t having it though, and said that it wouldn’t really fit in with his expanding business.

  I began to feel and become conscious that he was almost trying to keep me out of the way in the afternoons.

  One afternoon, when I had set off back home after my morning’s work, I felt down. It was a dreary time of year and the light was fading earlier and earlier each week. As I got out of the car at home I had a heavy heart. I walked into the living room which seemed very uninviting and cold. Everywhere seemed so quiet and still.

  I lit the fire and suddenly had an inspiration. I would do some baking! Unexciting as it might seem, Neil loved my baking and it was some
thing I hadn’t bothered to do for a long time.

  So, I set about making his favourite ginger biscuits and some scones and put a casserole in the oven for dinner that night. I was sure that he would like to come home to this after such a cold, dark and dreary day at work.

  Nevertheless, time still seemed to drag and I suddenly decided to surprise him and take down my samples of baking and have coffee with him at the office, anything to break this monotony. I was sure he would like a distraction. Little did I know that he already had that!

  I rang him first to make sure he was about before I set off. There was no reply to the landline and his mobile went onto answerphone when I rang it twice. Nevertheless, I decided to still set off.

  I made my way up to Ryedale, completely unaware of the consequences of my surprise arrival and the shock that would hit me as a result.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I drove slowly on to the pebbles of the drive at Ryedale, completely oblivious of the activities going on inside.

  I must admit, I did notice that all the blinds were closed, but somehow it didn’t register at the time.

  As I walked through the reception door, I was enveloped in the warmth from inside the building, in stark contrast to the wintery atmosphere outside.

  The first person I encountered was Tim. He was carrying two mugs of coffee. One for him and one for his brother, I thought. I suddenly noticed a change in his approach, as he saw me.

  In fact, as I looked back over the last few weeks, I had noticed that he hadn’t been as cheeky and friendly as he usually was, but today he was acting strange and when I greeted him, he replied as though out of politeness, but his eyes were downcast and did not meet mine. I decided to confront him kindly and show my concern for him.

  “Are you alright Tim? You don’t seem to be yourself for the last few weeks?” I asked.

  Then I continued as there seemed to be a bit of a delayed silence in his manner. “I haven’t had a chance to have a catch up lately, what with Neil wanting me to take things easier and work part-time.”

  I certainly wasn’t prepared for the reply which ensued. “I’m fine, really, Natasha,” Tim replied, nervously. “Look Natasha,” Tim started, then he paused. “I feel that there’s something I need to tell you, and it’s quite urgent,” Tim replied, now daring to look me in the eye.

  “What an earth’s wrong Tim?” I asked, alarmed.

  “It’s Neil,” he hurriedly replied.

  “What? Has he been in an accident? Is he hurt? Oh My God, I knew I shouldn’t have gone home this afternoon. He’s been so distant these last few months. Is, he seriously ill and can’t face telling me?” A flurry of questions burst out, as my imagination was doing somersaults.

  “No, nothing like that,” replied Tim obviously looking for the right words to break it to me.

  “Then what?” trying to not raise my voice, but feeling decidedly frustrated.

  “It’s none of my business, but now you are here in the moment as it were, I need to forewarn you that he has somebody in his office with him, another woman. She’s been here several times now, after you have left for the afternoon,” Tim blurted out.

  A few seconds passed which seemed like minutes, as I tried to get my brain to process the information. “Tim, I get the sense from your tone and the way you are delivering this news, that this is not to do with business. She’s not an accountant or here from a company is she?” I tried to say, in a reasonable way.

  “No, Natasha I’m afraid not. We don’t know who she is, but we can tell it’s not for professional reasons, let’s put it that way,” he replied.

  I stood rooted to the spot and then Tim spoke again but unhelpfully. “I did try to prepare you Natasha,” and with that he quickly slipped into his office and rapidly shut the door.

  I drew a deep breath, and despite everything Tim had said, I still tried to think positively, hoping that Tim had jumped to conclusions at least.

  I edged towards the office door and down the three carpeted steps, still trying to convince myself that it wasn’t necessarily anything to be suspicious about. Then suddenly, my thoughts and memory kicked in – the blinds, they were closed; and the memories came flooding back to when Neil and I had had our passionate sessions of lovemaking on the sheepskin rug. It was always more than a chat and a coffee!

  My stomach was filled with butterflies, and my deep anxiety made my lips dry and nausea began to wash over me. It really was the “fight or flight response” that is always talked about. “Shall I fight and face whatever is going on, ‘through the black keyhole,’ or should I run away, unable to face the truth and bury my head in the sand like an Ostrich?

  I chose the first option. My hand was now hovering over the brass door knob and shaking almost uncontrollably.

  I could hear Neil’s familiar tone as he approached sexual climax and his gasps of enjoyment and satisfaction. I could also hear “her” voice; I’m sure it was a Russian accent. I could hear her shout, “Udoudetrorit Menya!”

  I later found out that it is translated to mean ‘Satisfy Me’!

  This was followed by rapid and heavy panting, which I could only imagine was her supposedly climaxing after her torrential sexual experience with my husband.

  I slowly turned the door handle and braced myself to enter the office, as quietly as I could. Nothing could have prepared me, despite my overhearing their activity, for what was to hit my eyes.

  Neil had his trousers and underpants down and his appendage was in full view, but now for obvious reasons he was no longer erect. He then leaned back over her and was kissing her with force, which seemed to delight her. In his hand he held a riding crop.

  In my naivety, I didn’t see the connection, but could only assume this must have been something of a sexual ritual.

  His earlobes had a definite trace of red, almost like nail polish, at their tips, and I assumed this must be from her lipstick which was scarlet and because of her sucking them.

  My gaze then turned to the woman underneath him. A naked blonde, with very short spikey hair. Her nipples were erect and pert on her small breasts. Her slim body was well toned, what I could see of it.

  Her legs were bolt upright in the air, positioned as if in stirrups. Her nails were a deep scarlet and matched her lipstick.

  My strength and calmness suddenly took over, and I broke the somewhat “heated” atmosphere with a measured voice. “I see that it’s more than a bacon sandwich that you indulge in at lunchtimes.”

  Neil rose calmly to his feet and dressed himself without a word. His eyes looked cold and there was no apparent embarrassment or shame in his demeanour.

  I could feel resentment and a host of anger-fired emotions passing through my brain as I again spoke. “I’m surprised you like such cheap meat!” scowling as I said it.

  With an icy glare he replied, “Well I could hardly call you fillet steak or Lobster Thermidor, now could I?”

  The “blonde thing” then began to giggle to herself, irritatingly, while meeting my eyes, and then her lips settled into a pout.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out my spare office key, and the spare keys to Neil’s Bentley. I threw them with force. They flew past Neil and landed on the Chesterfield behind him; and as they did I said curtly, “I won’t be needing these anymore.” I turned and walked away.

  My legs were like jelly and my hands were shaking. I went to the kitchen and tried to gather my thoughts.

  Before setting off back to the cottage to throw a few clothes and essentials into my bag, I sat briefly in my car, trying to compose myself.

  I shouldn’t have really driven in that state of mind, but I did eventually arrive back at the cottage and immediately rang my best and most dependable friend, Jayne.

  I could hardly contain my tears and my voice trembled uncontrollably as I related my nightmare event.

  Another chapter of my life had dramatically closed, but a new one was about to begin.

  Chapter Eighteen

&n
bsp; Jayne had suggested that I go and stay with her and I was extremely tempted, but I decided that I would spend the night at the cottage and then decide what to do and where I was going to go, the following morning. I was quite sure that Neil would at least have the decency not to appear, and I reasoned that he would probably stay with “blondie,” who probably was booked into a hotel somewhere at least, and to be honest, by now, I didn’t really care.

  However, I did care, and once in bed, the bed that Neil and I had shared so many happy moments in, I began to sob uncontrollably. What a mess my life was again!

  I kept checking my phone from time to time during my fitful sleep. There weren’t any missed calls or texts from Neil.

  The following day, I bought the local newspaper and scrolled on my tablet while having my “elevenses” in the supermarket.

  It may not have been ideal, but I noticed a caravan site that was open all year round, and there were caravans to let on a weekly basis. On the site there was a communal pub and restaurant available, so there was an opportunity for an occasional distraction from my daily cares and woes, and the socialising would be very welcome. There were also lodges where people lived on a regular basis.

  It was only ten miles away and was a lot more economical and readily available than a house to rent. I felt the need to keep local until I had sorted matters out with Neil.

  A divorce was on the cards. I knew that after this outright and blatant betrayal, there was no other option. I knew that even if there was a remote possibility of reconciliation, which was highly unlikely, that I would never be able to trust him again.

  I needed to move on, and although I was financially secure at present, I knew that I needed the chance to repair myself, or at least let time and circumstances do their work, emotionally.