Who’s Been Lying on My Bed and Messing It Up… A Story My Husband’s Mistress Was Just a Bit Older Th…

Diary Entry

Who was laying on my bed and crumpled the sheets… The entire ordeal still stings when I think about it.

Roberts mistress was just a smidge older than our daughtera chubby-faced girl, wide-eyed with a nose stud (the same sort our Emily had once pleaded for, only to be met with his furious objections). I really couldnt muster any genuine anger for the girlshe was naive, standing awkwardly with bare, bluish legs poking out from under her cropped jacket, and I nearly quipped, If youre planning on having this fools children, buy yourself a winter coat and wear tights under those jeans. But, of course, I kept the words to myself. I simply handed Sophie the keys, grabbed two bags of my remaining belongings, and marched to the bus stop.

Mrs. Miller, whats that contraption under the kitchen counter? Sophie called after me. Is it for storing dishes?

I couldnt help myself and lobbed a parting shot:

I used to hide Roberts girlfriends bodies in there, but you can wash plates in it if youd like.

Without waiting for her responsewithout even glancing at Sophies startled faceI descended the steps, oddly pleased with myself. So, that was that. Twenty years down the drain, as they say.

Emily, our daughter, had been the first to discover Roberts affair. Shed skipped a day at school, expecting the house to be empty, and walked in to find a young nymph sipping cocoa from her favourite mug. The girl was practically undressed, and from the bathroom Emily could hear the shower runningher father, of course. Our clever daughter immediately put two and two together and called me.

Mum, I think Dads got a girlfriend. Shes wearing my slippers and drinking out of my mug!

It felt straight out of a childrens story. I recall how upset Emily wasnot so much about her fathers betrayal, but about someone using her things. Who was lying in my bed and crumpling my sheets…

Honestly, I took it much better than Emily did. My pride was a little bruisedafter all, the girl was young and pretty, and I was battling the extra stone, cellulite, and effects of my forties. Yet I felt relief. All those years: the odd phone calls at night, the unpredictable work schedule, receipts from cafes hed never taken me to. Id never caught Robert red-handed, he always covered his tracks, and I ended up feeling guilty just for suspecting.

This is the first time, Robert had the nerve to claim. No idea what came over me, like a comet landing on my head.

The comet turned out to be a twenty-year-old hotel clerk from his last business trip. Not much going for her besides a pretty face, and apparently not much sense eithershed followed Robert down to London, spent all her savings renting a grotty room, and so they met at ours instead. That explained why my washing machine kept skipping to quick wash instead of the usual delicates!

The flat itself belonged to Roberthed inherited it from his dad before we marriedand once I filed for divorce, Emily and I had to pack up and move into my nans old flat in the farthest corner of London. Emily was outragedhow was she supposed to get to school?

Live with us, then, Robert suggested. That got him another mouthful of insults. At least our daughter could give him a piece of her mind.

Living in the new place was rough at firstdifferent routes, unfamiliar shops, long commutes to work and school. But we adapted. I found a new job, and Emily eventually got accepted into a college that was much closer. There wasnt time to be sad; between leaky radiators and her final exams, we barely had a moment to dwell. By the time our problems were over, neither of us felt like moping.

Sophie called a few timesasking about the right setting for pie in the oven or where to put the dishwasher tablet. Once she even popped by, bringing a forgotten folder of photos Emily needed for her graduation. Robert wouldntor couldntcome himself. I was bed-bound with a cold, and Emily flatly refused to set foot in the old flat, convinced itd damage her fragile psyche before her computing exam.

Charming place, Sophie mumbled, eyeing our faded wallpaper and Edwardian lamp shades.

I couldnt help but smirkyes, its charming. Roberts flat was modern and convenient because Id spent two decades making it that way. Never mind. Let her enjoy the fruits of someone elses labour.

That little errand haunted me more than I ever expecteda year after that infamous day, at dusk, someone jiggled the lock.

Is someone coming to see you? I asked Emily.

She just stared at me in wide-eyed confusion.

Sophie stood in the halltear-streaked cheeks, shiny black mascara running, clutching a sports bag.

Has something happened with Robert? I asked, nerves prickling.

It has! she sniffled. I caught him with the secretary! I thought Id surprise him since he was working late and…

She dissolved into uncontrollable sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

Well, what do you want from me? I asked, already guessing the answer from her bulging sports bag.

Can I stay over tonight? Ive got no money. Ill take the train to my mums tomorrow morning.

And how will you afford the train?

I was hoping you might lend me some.

My feelings hovered between laughing and crying.

Emily made up my mind for me.

You can clear off! she spat, adding a few choice words I hadnt heard her use before.

I looked at Emily reproachfully.

Come in, Sophie, I said. Its dark out. I cant send you into the street.

Then things got worse.

Emily was so enraged she announced it was her or Sophie. I shruggedits her choice; shes an adult. You can go stay with your dad.

As if! Im going to Natalies.

I had to call a cab for Emily to spend the night at her friends. Meanwhile, I brewed tea and fed Sophie valerian, consoling the unlucky mistress who, after a year in London, hadnt managed a job or any friendsjust a new tongue piercing. Of course, I lent her some moneywhat else could I do? Couldnt keep her at mine. I even drove her to the station so she wouldnt get lost.

Sophie thanked me endlessly, apologised again and again, and promised shed sort her life outshed go back to school, and stop getting involved with married men.

Mum always said I was hopeless. Turns out she was right.

I didnt wave her off as she boarded her train. That was a step too far. Emily and I patched things up quickly, though she still couldnt comprehend how I could let the girl who split our family cross our threshold. I stroked her silky hair, smiled, and said,

One day youll understand.

Robert called a week later. He said hed seen the error of his ways, ditched Sophie, and wanted to start fresh as a family.

Run out of clean shirts? I replied tartly.

Well, yes, sighed my ex. Besides, she cant do laundry. Ive spent a year in greasy clothes.

Of course, I didnt go back. Nor did I gloat. But I cant deny that something changed in me for the better that daya lightness appeared in my thoughts and my heart, and I began smiling more. I got a dog, walked him in the evenings by the river. Met a charming neighbourso what if hes ten years older? Im not a little girl anymore.

And life simply carried on.