by Sam Anthony
“Welcome to the conversation! No. Not yet. But I took another test this morning and I really am pregnant!!! I’m so happy, Lee! We’re going to have a baby!!!”
“If that’s true, why don’t you and Joe bring it up together and just leave me out of it?”
“Because I’m in love with you, silly! Not Joe.”
“But I’m not in love with you. I love my wife.”
“I’m certain you’ll grow to love me as much as I love you. When little Ben/James/Thomas/Daniel/Mark comes along, we’ll be such a perfect family. Xxx”
“You’re not listening to me. It’s not going to happen.”
“Let me tell you what is going to happen. I’m going to give you until midnight on Friday to tell Tamsin about us.”
“What??? Why midnight on Friday?”
“So we have the rest of the weekend for Joe to pack up and leave home and for you to move in with me. I can’t wait! Xxx”
“You’re mad!”
“We could start off living at my house and then buy a new place together once the divorces are finalised.”
I typed the next message with trepidation.
“What happens if I don’t tell Tamsin by midnight on Friday?”
“Then I’ll come round to your house next Saturday morning and tell her myself. But I’m sure it would be much better coming from you. X”
“I’ll deny everything. She won’t believe you.”
“She will when I show her my proof.”
“You’re bluffing. You haven’t got any real proof.”
“I’m afraid, my love, I have incontrovertible proof, but I’d prefer not to use it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d rather not cause embarrassment to my future husband. Xxx”
“What is the proof?”
“You’ll have to wait and see. It’s very good!!! X”
“Please don’t do this. Just be sensible.”
“I’d better go. I’m planning a delicious, candlelit meal for us next Saturday and I want to find some nice recipes. Xxx”
“I’m not going to tell Tamsin about us and I don’t think you will either.”
“One of us definitely will. I really don’t want to hurt you, Lee. You’re the love of my life. But if I can’t convince you to be reasonable and just leave Tamsin, then I’ll have to resort to more drastic measures!”
“How about if I pay you? How much will it take for you to leave me alone?”
“You’re funny! This isn’t about blackmail. It’s about true love. X”
“I’m serious. I’ll give you £15000 cash if you’ll leave me and Tamsin alone.”
“Ha ha! Hilarious!!! See you on Monday, sweetie. Xxx”
“What can I do to make you stop torturing me?”
No reply.
“I’ll do anything you ask.”
No reply.
I ring Sophia’s cell phone.
She’s switched it off.
◆◆◆
I spend the remainder of the weekend planning my strategy. I’ve got about five days to come up with a scheme that will both save my marriage and eliminate any existing evidence that I’ve committed adultery.
So, here’s Plan A:
Meet with Sophia somewhere private.
Insist that she shows me her proof of our affair.
If it’s a bluff: walk away, hope Tamsin will accept my denials and get on with my life.
If it’s genuine evidence: convince Sophia not to show it to anyone, ever, then walk away and get on with my life.
And if plan A doesn’t work, here’s Plan B:
Murder Sophia, then walk away and get on with my life.
I’m rooting for Plan A, but Plan B is shorter and simpler.
◆◆◆
Of course, I do have another option. I could simply confess everything to Tamsin and throw myself on her mercy. I’m sure that conversation would go well:
“Hi, Tam, can we have a quick chat?”
“Bins?”
“Done.”
“Dishwasher?”
“Done.”
“Okay. Chat away.”
“Right, well, I’ve done something a bit silly …”
“Go on.”
“I’ve been having an affair with someone from work”
“Ha ha! Good one, Lee.”
“No, genuinely.”
“Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not especially. Why?”
“Just for some extra sex.”
“Fair enough. You haven’t been getting much from me lately. Did you contract any sexually transmitted diseases?”
“No. I always used condoms.”
“Well done. Is it over now?’
“Definitely. She turned out to be a right psycho!”
“That’s okay then. No harm, no foul. What would you like for tea?”
Or possibly not so well:
“Tam, we need to talk.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“I want you to know that you and the kids are the most important things in my life and I love you all dearly.”
“Oh my God, Lee! What have you done?”
“I’ve been having an affair with someone from work.”
“What! Lee, how could you?”
“Please don’t cry.”
“You’ve broken my heart.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Pack your things. I want you out of my house now.”
“Please, Tam. It was a huge mistake. I love you. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
“Get out of my sight! I can’t bear to look at you.”
“Please …”
“I hate you and I’ll be filing for divorce as soon as I possibly can. Now fuck off, you piece of shit!”
Or possibly really badly, culminating in some sort of murder-suicide event.
I can’t tell Tamsin. I couldn’t bear to humiliate myself in front of her. I’m following rule one for as long as possible: never tell anyone. I had to tell Jake, to get out of a sticky situation, but I have no intention of ever telling anyone else.
◆◆◆
At work on Monday, Sophia is positively blooming. She looks radiant, refreshed and happy. Her co-workers are drawn to her like bees to nectar. Never has she been so popular. She flirts shamelessly with some of the younger men, often looking over in my direction to see if I’m watching. I am, but I’m pretending to be very busy. She takes every opportunity to come and see me and make polite conversation. Nobody would know that she’s threatening to turn my life upside down in less than five days’ time.
◆◆◆
The week passes at a snail’s pace. At least twice every day, Sophia asks me, either directly or by text message, if I’ve told Tamsin yet, and every time I reply in the negative, but whenever I try to extend the conversation, to dissuade Sophia from her mission, she chooses not to respond.
◆◆◆
On Thursday, while Tamsin is out playing tennis and the kids are nominally tidying their rooms, I put the finishing touches to my argument to convince Sophia to back off, and not inform Tamsin about our affair. Then, when that’s finished, I do something I never dreamt I’d do. I actually resort to making a pros and cons list to determine whether or not I should murder Sophia.
Pros:
All my problems would be solved.
No more Sophia to tell Tamsin about the affair or show her any evidence of it.
No more pregnancy.
No anxiety every time my phone rings or vibrates.
No more constant fear of discovery.
I’d get to keep my family and my home.
I’d maintain the respect of my wife, kids and friends.
I’d have a fresh start; a second chance to try to live an unblemished life of happiness and contentment.
Cons:
No more mind-blowing sex.
I’d be a murderer.
I’d have to live with the guilt of my crime until
the day I died.
If hell exists, I’d burn there for all eternity.
I’d probably get caught and spend at least fifteen years in prison, being anally raped on a daily basis, and losing my wife and kids forever as well.
The anal rape thing is the deal-breaker. I’m just too good looking to go to prison. I’m going to have to reason with Sophia and hope for the best. If she chooses to tell my wife and succeeds in convincing her, then I’ll have to beg Tamsin to forgive me. Maybe, in time, she could come to trust me again.
Chapter Nineteen
The Canal
At work on Friday morning, Sophia approaches me, smiling sweetly, and asks her usual question.
“Have you told Tamsin yet?”
I whisper my response, hoping nobody nearby can overhear our conversation. “No. I need to talk to you first.”
“I’ve said all I have to say, Lee. It’s up to you now. You just need to tell her.”
“Shh! Not so loud. I really need to talk to you today, Soph.”
“I’m not interested.” She’s refusing to lower her voice. “We can talk once you’ve told your wife.”
She turns on her heels and strides away.
◆◆◆
An hour later, I attempt a text message.
“Hi.”
No reply.
“Please, can I talk to you?”
No reply.
“For your sake, it’s vitally important we talk.”
No reply.
◆◆◆
At lunchtime, I go to Sophia’s office, hoping to at least begin a dialogue with her. There’s nobody there.
I wait for about ten minutes and then, assuming she’s gone home, I decide to drive to Sophia’s house and have it out with her once and for all.
As always, I park several streets away and let myself into her garden through the back gate, but when I try the kitchen door, I’m surprised to find it locked.
I knock on the door, expecting Sophia to appear and let me in, but there’s no response from inside the house. I bang louder. Perhaps she hasn’t heard me. Still no signs of life from within the building. I walk around the house to the front door and try ringing the bell. I can hear it echoing inside, but still no one comes to let me in. I even shout through the letterbox, but to no avail.
I’m beginning to think something sinister may have happened to Sophia, when I realise there’s no sign of her car on the drive or on the street nearby. Where is she?
I take out my phone and call her.
She answers after two rings.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Oh, hi, sweetie. I’m at the supermarket. Just buying some things for our romantic meal tomorrow night.”
“What?”
“Can you hear me okay? I’m at the supermarket.”
“Yes. I can hear you fine. I’m at your house. I thought we could talk.”
“I told you, we’ve got nothing to talk about until you’ve told Tamsin about us.”
“Come on. Be reasonable. We need to discuss this.”
“We have discussed it. Now you need to get on with doing it.”
“Look, Soph …”
“How do you like your steak cooked? That’s something I really ought to know about you already.” She chuckles. “Luckily we’ve got the rest of our lives to get to know each other better.”
“I need to see you,” I say.
“It’s a simple question. Medium? Medium rare?”
I sigh. “Medium rare. When can we talk?”
“I’ve got to go, sweetie. I’m nearly at the front of the queue.”
“Hang on …”
“See you later. Love you.”
“Soph …”
She’s hung up.
◆◆◆
I make a few further attempts to speak to Sophia in the afternoon, but every time I bring up her ultimatum, she raises her voice to the point where I’m forced to change the subject to something more generic.
◆◆◆
At the end of the day, I pack up at the same time as Sophia and, as soon as she leaves – without even saying goodbye to me – I discreetly pursue her to the car park. I watch her walk towards her car and follow, timing my arrival to coincide with her unlocking the driver’s door.
“Soph, please can we go somewhere and talk?”
She sidles closer to me and, before I realise what’s happening, she embraces me in a spontaneous, overly friendly hug; right in front of at least seven of our co-workers, some of whom are looking in our direction with bemused expressions on their faces.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I’ve got big plans for you tomorrow night, sweetie,” she says as she reluctantly releases me from her amorous embrace.
She slides into her car, lowers the window and calls out, “See you tomorrow, Lee!” before blowing me a kiss as she drives away; leaving me standing, bewildered and speechless, next to her empty parking space.
One of my male colleagues raises his eyebrows at me, and two female co-workers, who had been heading towards their respective cars, change direction, walk towards each other, and begin a whispered conversation, occasionally glancing in my direction.
I’ve got to put a stop to this, but I don’t know how. I’m not prepared to chase Sophia across town in my car, and I’m reluctant to go to her house at this time of the day in case Joe comes back from work prematurely.
◆◆◆
I drive home, racking my brain trying to decide what to do next. I’ve got less than seven hours until my deadline runs out. What will Sophia do if I haven’t told Tamsin by midnight? Will she really come round to my house tomorrow morning and show Tamsin evidence of our affair? I can’t bear to even think about what that would be like.
Would they talk calmly and rationally? Would they fight each other the way women are supposed to do, with scratching and hair pulling?
My biggest fear is that Tamsin would just say to Sophia, “You can have him. He’s all yours. I don’t want him anymore.”
The clock is ticking.
◆◆◆
Shortly after 7:30 p.m. Tamsin leaves the house to spend the evening at a local pub with some of the girls from her tennis club. Normally, I’d be happy about this because she often returns home horny after one of these nights out. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the flirting with men at the pub, or the ribald discussions about their sex lives, but something gets Tamsin’s juices flowing.
Tonight, however, I’m relieved that I’ve got some time alone to try to salvage my marriage, while Tamsin remains oblivious to the gathering storm clouds heading her way.
I send a text message to Sophia.
“Hi.”
No reply.
“Can you talk?”
No reply.
“I need your help.”
No reply.
“I reckon I know what I’m going to say to Tamsin, but I’d really like your advice first.”
Sophia replies.
“What are you going to say?”
“It’s quite long and complicated. I’d like to tell you in person to get your feedback.”
“Why? Can’t you just tell her? I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Your opinion means a great deal to me. I’d really like to hear what you think.”
“We don’t need to meet up for that. My advice is to say this: ‘Tamsin, I’ve fallen in love with someone else and I’m leaving you.’ Nice and simple.”
“That’s brutal! After all these years of marriage, I owe her more than that.”
“Your problem is, you’re too nice! X”
“You used to say you’d do anything for me. Well, I’m asking you to meet me now so we can discuss what I’m going to say to Tamsin.”
Sophia doesn’t respond for several minutes. I’m about to send another message when she replies.
“Ok. Where and when?”
“Thanks, so much, Soph. How about the lay-by where you h
ad your ‘puncture’? Half an hour?”
“Make it 45 minutes. I want to make myself look beautiful for you! Xxx”
“See you then. Xxx”
◆◆◆
I get to the designated spot thirty minutes later, but I’m disappointed to discover that on this occasion it’s not vacant. There’s a van selling burgers and hot dogs, and as I’m waiting for Sophia to arrive, I see three cars turn up and park. Their drivers head to the van, order food, eat and leave, but it’s a slow process. We’re not going to have the lay-by to ourselves this time.
Sophia finally arrives about twenty minutes after the agreed time. She reverses into the space directly behind my car, switches off her engine and comes to join me.
“Hi, sweetie. Sorry I’m a bit late.”
“No problem.” I want to begin this conversation on the right footing. “I thought we’d be alone here, but people keep coming and going. I’d rather talk to you somewhere more private.”
“Do you like my new dress?” she says.
“Yeah. It’s very nice. You look lovely.” She really does. Why did she have to spoil everything by breaking the rules and going all nutty? “Perhaps we could walk along the canal towpath. Is that okay?”
“Fine by me.”
It’s a lovely evening; mild weather and no breeze at all. The sun is slowly sinking towards the horizon and the sky ahead of us is a beautiful combination of shades of orange and red. The birds in the trees are singing serenely as if all is well with the world.
Once we’re out of sight of the other people in the lay-by, Sophia takes my hand and I choose not to resist.
Under other circumstances, it would be a very pleasant, romantic, evening stroll.
◆◆◆
We walk, hand-in-hand as the light fades; neither of us speaking until we reach the canal.
The towpath is deserted. There’s no one in sight in either direction. Even the sounds of traffic have faded into the distance. We could be the only two people alive.