Caught My Husband Red-Handed

I caught my husband in the act.

You even with her! I shouted, my voice cracking. Tom, have you any conscience left?

That doesnt count at all! Tom muttered from beneath the duvet. Its fine with an exwife!

Actually, it isnt, I snapped.

Sweetheart, I love you, Tom tried to smooth it over, Its just a habit

Your habit is a fine one, I said, halfdazed.

Can I at least get dressed? the habit whispered back.

And youve taken my favourite silk nightdress! The details hit me one by one.

Lovely dress, Violet chimed, her eyes bright. Ill buy one just like it!

Take it, I growled, Ill never let anything like that touch my life again!

So, what about getting dressed? Violet pressed. Im not shy about Tom, but you, Miss

And you werent embarrassed about some other mans? I snapped.

Lets keep the shouting down, Violet shook her head. Hes not even a stranger; we were married for almost twenty years!

He was practically family.

Tom fumbled his boxers under the sheets, clambered out of bed and, grabbing me by the elbow, tried to haul me out of the bedroom.

Come on, we need to talk!

I wont move until shes out of my flat! I crossed my arms over my chest. Go on, love, run while theres still some respect left for your respectable age!

Girl, dont be cheeky! Im only twelve years younger than you! Violet huffed.

Wait til I start calling you grandma! I snarled. Get out! Or do you need a stick, a cane? If youre slow, theyll hand you crutches at the A&E, and I hope its not a wheelchair!

Tom! Violet shrieked. Put your wife away!

Milly! Tom laughed, pulling me out of the room.

Better help this old lady disappear, I growled. Then well talk, I promise!

The scene unfolded like a farcapped comedy. I watched my husbands frantic attempts to shield his exwife from my furious gaze.

Violet, tangled in the sheets, struggled to pull on a piece of clothing.

When she finally stopped flaunting herself, I had to clench my fists to the point of pain, lest I give her any more momentum.

The front door slammed, and I barked,

Clean up after her, and Ill be waiting for you in the kitchen!

Right, right! Coming! Tom rattled off, dashing back to the bedroom to strip off his nightwear.

And tidy up now! a voice called from the kitchen.

Of course, of course, Tom shouted, gulping for breath.

When he finally entered the kitchen, I was there, tears streaming down my face as I stood by the window.

Milly, he said softly.

How could you? I sobbed. How could you be with her? I might have understood if it were someone else, but with her after everything between us, after everything weve been through? How could you forgive her?

I didnt plan it Tom forced a crooked smile. She rang, said our son was in trouble

Thats no excuse to drag her into our home! I snapped. After what she did to you, Id never even spoken to her again!

She mentioned our son

Youve already told everyone how much she owes you! And you? How could you

Ive never been attracted to men much older than me. My peers barely caught my eye; a fiveorsixyear gap was ideal.

But Tom was fifteen years my senior, and that hit my heart.

In my circle there were no men his age. Work introduced me to plenty of lads, but it stayed strictly professional. This was different: it hit my heart, not just my mind.

It was pure chance, really. I was driving home from work when my cars dashboard died, the steering went stiff, and the vehicle kept coasting.

Panic lasted a heartbeat. Thank goodness the road was a quiet side street. I nudged the car to the curb, set the handbrake, and stepped out.

Any motorist knows the basics: oil, coolant, windscreen washer. Anything beyond that goes to a garage.

In a fit of fury I popped the bonnet and stared at the engine, bewildered.

Whats wrong with you? I muttered. We were at the garage yesterday! Why didnt it tell me?

The car of course stayed silent. A passerby chuckled, stopped, and asked,

Not talking?

Its quiet, for once! I replied on autopilot.

Let me have a look, the man offered, nudging me aside.

I stepped back. What else could I do? Block him out? Let the car die? It seemed my last hope before a tow.

Do you always go to the same garage? he asked.

Yes, three hundred metres from my flat. Very convenient! I drop it off and pick it up in the morning.

You need a new garage, he said with a grin. They didnt tighten the battery terminal. It slipped, the engine stalled, and theyd have given you a nice invoice! Got any tools?

Theres something in the boot, I said vaguely.

He fixed the terminal, the engine coughed to life.

I dont know how to thank you, I said.

No bother, he waved.

Why so glum? I asked.

Ah, well Im horseless now, he sighed heavily.

Could you give me a lift home? I suggested, still shaking. Ill treat you to dinner.

Id prepared a meal the night before; I lived alone, after all.

Thats how we met.

Over dinner I asked,

Did your car break down?

Why would it? It runs fine, Tom (the mans name turned out to be Tom Hargreaves) replied, sighing again. Only my exwife drove it. At the divorce she took my daughter!

Word by word, I learned Toms sad tale. Hed been married to his wife, Violet Clarke, for almost twenty years. Add the years before the wedding and you get about twentyodd years together.

How did they live? Like most couples: some peace, some fights, a striped life. They had a son, raised him, planned to teach him, marry him off, hope for grandchildren. Nothing extraordinary. Both worked, both kept the house. In summer they went to the seaside, sometimes helped at the inlaws cottage.

A fairly normal family life.

Then Violet started saying she felt something missing.

Who will understand her? shed ask.

At times she wanted attention, at times she felt lost, at times her feelings faded.

I started buying her flowers, gifts, Tom confessed. I did that before, I dont know what changed.

First she kicked me off the sofa, then she ignored me, then she filed for divorce because she found another man.

I nodded, knowing how such things start. I didnt try to lecture him; he kept going.

We had to split the assets after nearly twenty years of coownership! And then

Their threebed flat had once been a gift to Violet from relatives. It arrived halffinished, needing a lot of concrete work, essentially a box to be turned into a flat. While it was being renovated, they lived in Toms premarriage flat.

The renovation was short; Tom was a jackofalltrades.

I did everything myself!

When they moved, the old flat was let out for a little extra cash.

Tom hoped to get something out of that flat, while the premarriage flat was, together with his wife, given to their son when things were still normal.

Over the years the flat needed repairs, so Tom took out a large loan to give his son a proper renovation. He shouldered that loan because, when they bought the family car, the loan was in his name, not Violets.

Violet started talking about buying a cottage, paying off the car, etc. Tom arranged a holiday on his loan to clear the car payments faster. Only three instalments remained when Violet filed for divorce.

In the end the court awarded the car to Violet because the loan was in her name. Toms loan for the renovation stayed with him. Hed even given his son a flat after taking out the loan and completing the work. The courts decision left Tom without the car and a part of the flat, as nothing could be proved otherwise.

Who keeps receipts for twenty years? I suggested,

Your son could let you back in the flat, so youre not on the street.

Ha! Three times! Violet told our son not to let me back! He never thought of returning the flat!

Now Im stuck with a twomillionpound loan and no home. Im crashing on friends couches, and I dont know whether to declare bankruptcy or move in with my parents.

The loan repayments chew up seventy per cent of my salary. If wed been married, we might have paid it off together, but now

Theres a peculiar Russianwoman trait of feeling sorry for the unfairly wronged. I let Tom stay the night, put him in the other room. In the morning he made breakfast and even washed the dishes. He even cleaned the stove.

He lingered in the flat, and two months later I married the landlady of the flat.

I was amazed at how interesting Tom was. He could talk about news, literature, films, music, and in bed he matched my peers.

His looming loan was like Damocles sword, and I helped clear it in two months. I was an entrepreneur, and when I met Tom I was preparing to expand my business, so I held off a little.

At least I helped my husband! I thought.

Toms gratitude knew no bounds. I never regretted the unequal marriage. Money will come. The feeling of care, protection, tenderness, and lovetry finding that elsewhere.

I didnt regret it until I found a womans coat on the hallway rack that wasnt mine. When I saw the pictures of Toms exwife online, my eyes welled up. Yet I kept my composure around his former spouse.

Milly, dont be so down, Tom said. It happened, it happened. Twenty years together, there were good times too. It just sort of piled up

Traitor! I roared. Youve not only cheated on me, youve cheated on yourself!

You threw her away, yet you forgave her! You never thought about me! When we married you were only a debt, nothing else. I gave you everything! I bought the car, cleared your loan, was ready to get a flat in your name. And you repaid me with who? The woman who humiliated you!

I get it, I really do. But you have to understand me too! Tom scratched his head. We were both tired of the marriage. We needed a break.

And with the property, you did the right thing. Thanks for paying off my loan! Ill be forever grateful, even if its just a graveyard thank you.

Just dont tell anyone I said, surprised at his calm.

Milly, Im sorry, but Im going back to her. We spent so many years together, you cant compare

I stared at the floor, studying the linoleum for a moment.

Keys to the flat, the car, and the card on the table! I shouted. And get out of my flat right now!

What? Tom was stunned.

Nothing! I snapped. If a fool walks in, a fool walks out! Get out!

Tom huffed, but he left the marriage with a profit. Id cleared his debt, and that was thankyou enough. It was all for the sake of the familyhis and Violets.

Now we can even think about buying a cottage