Betrayal, Shock, Mystery.

Natalie is stirring a pot of stew when a knock sounds at the front door.

Is anyone there? a voice asks.

Its me, Natalie, she replies, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

A woman about her own age stands on the threshold, eyes bright with curiosity.

Good afternoon. Are you Natalie? the stranger says.

Yes, thats me. And you are? Natalie asks, trying to place the woman.

My name is Gail. Im acquainted with your husband.

Oliver? Natalie repeats.

Oliver Oliver. Gail corrects herself, smiling.

So you and my husband are involved? And you think Im standing in the way of your happiness? Natalie says, a faint edge to her tone.

How did he explain this to you? That the kids are still small and he cant leave them? Gail asks.

No He said we have to wait until until your father passes away, she says suddenly.

Natalie freezes. Her father, Albert, is not even seventy yet; he keeps fit, rarely falls ill, and has no intention of dying soon.

You must be mixing things up, she says.

No, Oliver told me that as soon as Albert is gone, hell leave you and move in with me, Gail continues.

Why not sooner? Did he say hes worried about my father? Natalie asks, disbelief flashing across her face.

Oliver respects Albert a great deal, but he wants the flat you own. He says once Alberts gone, hell take it and youll have to move out.

My flat is my home, my inheritance from my grandmother. Im not handing it over to anyone, Natalie protests.

Then why dont you wait for the inevitable and let me have whats mine? Gail retorts. Im not young any more; I want to enjoy the rest of my life without fuss.

What do you want from me? Natalie asks, voice trembling.

Just let Oliver come to me, Gail says simply.

Take him, Natalie whispers.

How? Gail asks.

Im not keeping him. I never was. At first I loved him, hoped hed settle down, even thought the children needed a father. I never saw anything wrong with his behaviour, so I assumed his wandering ways had ended. Turns out I was wrong.

Youre sorry? Natalie asks, her eyes wet.

Of course Im sorry. Will you let him go? Honestly?

Take his things now if you wish.

No, I cant carry them. Oliver will collect them when he feels like it. Just let him leave.

Dont worry, Ill release him today. Tomorrow Ill file for divorce and split the assets fairly, as the court orders. I wont give him the flat its mine, passed down from my grandmother, the renovations paid for by my parents. All the receipts are still with my father; hes a bit of a stickler. But you have your own place, so its fine.

Fine, Gail says. Oliver wont be left homeless.

Natalie hangs up the phone, already gathering Olivers belongings. She doesnt plan to argue with him; she just wants him out of the house. She knows hell think he can return at any moment, but thats not happening.

This is absurd, she mutters, folding his shirts into a suitcase. Hell wait for my father to die, then hand over the flat Ive turned a blind eye to his affairs for years, and now he thinks he can do whatever he pleases.

Oliver arrives home from work, noticing the empty dining table. He barely registers Natalies refusal to serve dinner, and it doesnt bother him. He expects to take his usual evening walk and come back as if nothing has changed.

Thanks for the meal, love, he says, putting on his coat. I think Ill step out for a stroll.

Go on then, Natalie replies, watching him head out the door.

Of course, dear. At your age a walk does you good, Oliver jokes.

What age are you talking about? he asks, a hint of irritation creeping in. Im not that old.

Youre past fifty now, love. Not exactly spring chicken.

Im still Im still he stammers.

Dont try to convince me otherwise. Youre aging, and Im not.

Fine, I look fine. Women notice it too.

Really? Ive seen you giving up your seat on the bus lately. You even told me about it.

When did that happen? Oliver asks, genuinely puzzled.

I remember several times. Men like you always offer their seat.

What did they say?

Please, sir, you look tired.

Doesnt matter. Weve been sleeping in separate rooms for a year now.

And? Oliver asks.

Nothing, really. Maybe youve started to forget things. At your age thats common. My brother Peter, whos your age, keeps telling me he misses me.

Whos Peter? Oliver asks.

My neighbour. I thought Id talk to someone about how youve become distant.

Youre joking, arent you? Oliver sighs. Im still…

Enough, Oliver. Ill collect your things, and I wont ask for forgiveness. I once loved you, hoped youd settle, but now I realise I was naïve.

Youre sorry, then? he asks.

Yes, but I wont give you what you want. The flat stays with me. Its been in the family for generations, the work done by my parents, the papers all saved.

Ill take what I can, Oliver says, grabbing a suitcase.

Take it, love, Natalie replies. Just go.

Youre sure you wont contest the divorce? she asks.

Dont count on me leaving everything to you.

Ill take the flat, Oliver says. Its mine, after all.

No, its my grandmothers. Ive lived here for twentyfive years.

Lucky you.

Remember when we used to holiday in the countryside, when my father paid for the renovations? He kept every receipt.

Those days are over.

Dont think Ive forgotten. The court will sort everything out. Youll get the car, the garage, the cottage. Ill keep the flat.

Oliver grabs one of the bags, hurries out, and heads straight to Gails flat, where she waits impatiently.

The next morning Natalie files for divorce. Oliver doesnt object; he enjoys the new life with Gail, who constantly tells him hes still young and full of vigor. The judge awards him the car and garage, while Natalie receives the cottage.

She sells the cottage, drives to Bath with her father, then takes a train to Brighton, later visiting the Lake District and other spots together. Albert remains in good health and shows no sign of departing any time soon.

Six months later Gail notices Olivers habit of walking late at night and decides to keep tabs on him. She returns home, gathers Olivers belongings, and leaves them on the doorstep. When Oliver comes back from his walk, he tries to speak with Gail, but she never even opens the door.

Frustrated, Oliver walks to Natalies house, hoping to find refuge, but the neighbours tell him Natalie isnt home shes off again with her father. He wonders where to go. The garage is empty, the garden is quiet, spring is just ending and summer lies ahead.

Perhaps hell find another young woman; after all, hes still a man in his prime.