“So You Want My Husband? He’s All Yours!” said the wife with a smile to the mysterious woman standin…

Would you like my husband? Hes all yours! the wife declared, flashing a sly smile at the unfamiliar woman standing at her doorstep.

Hang on, Claire! Someones at the door. Ill ring back once I figure out who it is and what on earth they want, said Emily, reluctantly ending her call with her childhood friend. Claire had been regaling her with outrageously funny tales of her mother-in-laws birthday bash, and Emily had laughed herself silly, as though she were stuck inside a sitcom rerun.

Emily strolled to the door, peered through the spyhole, and froze. She had half-expected to see cheerful Mr. Wilson from next doorit wasnt usual for outsiders to stroll into their secure London block. Instead, a strange woman lingered on the mat: youngish, uneasy, and utterly unfamiliar.

Emily weighed her options. Leave the door shutit was the proper English thing to do, especially with scams all over the telly. She prided herself on never allowing herself to be deceived. No nattering with strangers, was Emilys dauntless motto.

She picked up her mobile, ready to resume her chat with Claire, but the doorbell echoed againlouder, more persistent. Whoever it was, they believed someone was in and werent about to give up.

The flat was quiet except for her own thoughts; her husband, Jonathan, was away helping a mate with his garden somewhere in Surrey. Emily returned to the door and, with growing curiosity, squinted once more through the peephole.

There was something peculiar and almost pitiful about the woman, yet Emily felt no real threat. Whats the worst that could happen if I just open the door and tell her to be off? She longed for the peace of her weekend to resumesurely the woman was simply lost or ready to peddle knock-off perfumes.

Decision made, Emily opened the door. The woman straightened abruptly, fiddling nervously with her scarf.

Afternoon! Are you Emily? the visitor inquired, twisting a ring around her finger. Well, of course you areIm not sure why I even asked.

Emily stifled a sigh. Scammers are terribly resourceful nowadays; shes even got my name, she thought.

Who are you and what do you want? Youve been hovering outside for ages. I havent invited you, so get to your point or be on your way, said Emily crisply.

Is Jonathan at home? the stranger asked, which caught Emily off guard.

Well, now! she thought, narrowing her eyes. She knows my husbands name. Thats careful planning.

Have you come about Jonathan? Emily challenged, though she wasnt sure why she even asked.

No, Im here for you. But if Jonathan were here, things might be, you know… trickier, replied the woman, almost breezily.

Trickier for you. And whys that? asked Emily, curiosity gnawing.

Hes not home. Whats your business?

Wouldnt you rather we went inside? Odd to talk about such things out in the hallway, is it not? said the woman, emboldened.

Absolutely not! I dont invite strangers in. Say what you must, and quickly, retorted Emily.

Are you really so keen to discuss the details of my affair with Jonathan out here where neighbours can listen in? the woman smirked.

What? What affair? Emilys voice leapt in pitch.

Emily, dear, is everything alright? Why all the fuss? called Mrs. Dawkins, the neighbour, stumbling out of the lift, tote full of Tescos shopping.

Oh, lovely weather, isnt it, Mrs Dawkins? Nothing to worry about here, Emily replied hastily, hoping her neighbour might shuffle along.

Looks as though well have showers by tea time, replied Mrs. Dawkins, but she lingered, her nosey curiosity getting the better of her.

Come on then, inside, Emily relented, reluctantly ushering the woman in with a silent sigh.

Once over the threshold, the woman eyed everything with unsettling interest. Her gaze lingered on trinkets, potted ferns, Jonathans wellies, and a pile of magazines.

Youve five minutes. Get to it, Emily warned, blocking her path to the sitting room. This isnt a heritage house tour.

My names Daisy, the woman announced, peeling off her coat and scarf. Jonathan and I are in love.

Well, how unoriginal! Couldnt you have tried something a bit less tired? Emily shot back, arching an eyebrow.

Whats boring about that? People fall in lovethese things happen. Youre not the first wife to lose a husband, Daisy replied, bravely trying to sweep past.

And youre absolutely certain he loves you and not me? Emily persisted, her smile never slipping.

Without a doubt! Why else would I be here? said Daisy, chin high.

Thats the rub, dear. My husband doesnt love anyone. Hes got the emotional depth of a teaspoon. Youre sorely mistaken, Emily responded with a shrug.

Daisy opened her mouth to protest, but at that very moment, the door swung open and Jonathan stepped inside

and Jonathan stopped short, staring at the strange woman standing stiffly in the hallway.

Daisy? What are you doing here, on a Saturday, no less? Is this about work? he asked, blinking in confusion.

No, shes here for you, Emily interjected, relishing the odd tableau.

For me? Whats that supposed to mean? Did something happen at the office? Jonathan asked, still confounded.

Oh no, love. Shes here to take you off my hands. Entirely, Emily said, lips curled in ironic amusement.

Daisy, cheeks reddening, fumbled to don her coat and began inching towards the exit.

Leaving already? I thought youd leap at the chance to have Jonathan for yourself. Truth be told, Id hand him over gladly, Emily teased.

By then, Daisy had already slipped out, without so much as a backward glance or farewell.

What on earth was all that about? Jonathan asked, collapsing into utter bewilderment.

Thats for you to explain! Why did this bold woman appear, demanding divorce and claiming youd be moving in with her? Emily demanded, arms crossed tightly.

Youre serious? I havent the faintest idea. She started behaving oddly at the office, but I never encouraged anything. Im fed up with this nonsense. I promised you, remember?

Of course. And you know, JonathanI dont tolerate this sort of palaver. But honestly, these days some women will go to remarkable lengths to tidy up their tangled lives, Emily sighed, shaking her head.

Jonathan kicked off his shoes and shuffled towards the kitchen, leaving Emily momentarily alone with her swirling thoughts. She vowed not to let such foolish episodes disrupt the tranquillity of their home. Despite herself, she grinned at how wildly misjudged Daisys plan had been.

Whatever others might try, it was plain that their partnership was far sturdier than anyone could guess.