became a couple. And it was so easy, no niggles, no jealousies and no hidden agendas. I should have known it was too good to be true.
Ironically at the same time, Daniel split up with his girlfriend, thus starting a pattern where he and I were never single at the same time until the evening he and Emily had got together. I’d been so hopeful that our relationship might finally change that night.
In flagrante delicto always sounds vaguely amusing; a situation comedy moment, with people hopping about with one leg in their trousers. In reality it’s anything but funny. It’s about as bloody unfunny as things get.
Even now gazing at my reflection in the tube window, I could still feel the dismay at the sight of those lovely muscled buttocks rhythmically heaving, all graphic and porn film … with someone else.
I pulled a face at myself. Stupid cow. Any feisty film heroine worth her expensive lingerie would have charged in, slapped his arse smartly, yelling, ‘You bastard’. Not me, I crept away unnoticed. Numb. In shock.
Embarrassed I looked around the carriage. The girl was openly sniggering. Bloody typical. Even now, eight years later, I was making myself look stupid over Mike. I’d had other boyfriends but I’d always made sure I kept things light and superficial. No chance of getting hurt that way. Unfortunately light and superficial had worn thin of late. I wanted more. Through the window I could see the words Embankment. I needed to keep my wits about me. I hadn’t realised we were nearly at Waterloo.
I remembered Mike’s face when he realised I knew.
‘Busy weekend?’ I’d asked coolly, when he’d finally turned up at my door.
‘No, not really,’ he’d said smiling, charming as ever. ‘I had to get an essay done. Sorry babes, meant to call you but spent the whole weekend holed up in my room, burning the midnight oil to get it finished.’
‘Really, and here I was thinking you’d spent the whole weekend shagging some strange redhead,’ I snapped viciously
Shock registered in his face as his eyes widened. The big, fat, lying, slimy git.
‘Mike, you didn’t lock your door,’ I’d told him with quiet despair.
It turned out that the girl with red hair, Tracey, had planned her visit as a surprise. She’d certainly accomplished that goal. She was the girl from his home town, the one he’d been seeing since they were both sixteen. Fed up with Mike’s constant excuses of a huge workload, she’d arrived unannounced. Mm, that would be the workload that involved three hours of lectures a week, fifty-three down the pub and the rest shagging me.
Scowling, I pulled myself out of my seat as we drew into Waterloo. It wasn’t that I harboured any feelings for the bastard. It was the deceit. Would I have ever known if I hadn’t caught him? Never once had it occurred to me that there might be a Tracey waiting for him at home at the end of every term. I was, inadvertently, the other woman. Me! That was the ultimate irony. Fidelity ranked number one on my list of relationship prerequisites and another reason that made anything with Daniel impossible. He was Emily’s now.
I weaved my way along the platform heading up to the mainline station feeling depressed and cross with myself. Time to change things. I would go out for that drink with Ned. I ought to give him a chance, after all, three minutes was hardly any time at all and look at Piers and Lucy now.
When I left the flat at six the next morning, I felt decidedly groggy. I hadn’t slept well. I’d had one of those bizarre dreams that feels as if it’s lasted all night. My subconscious had run riot and conjured up one unlikely scenario after another, taking place in an airport, a junior school and a garden shed respectively. Throughout I’d been married to Mike, phoning Daniel with whom I was having an affair that Mike knew all about and had Anthony – crossword man from the speed-date – camped out in the garden shed waiting for me to run
Ironically at the same time, Daniel split up with his girlfriend, thus starting a pattern where he and I were never single at the same time until the evening he and Emily had got together. I’d been so hopeful that our relationship might finally change that night.
In flagrante delicto always sounds vaguely amusing; a situation comedy moment, with people hopping about with one leg in their trousers. In reality it’s anything but funny. It’s about as bloody unfunny as things get.
Even now gazing at my reflection in the tube window, I could still feel the dismay at the sight of those lovely muscled buttocks rhythmically heaving, all graphic and porn film … with someone else.
I pulled a face at myself. Stupid cow. Any feisty film heroine worth her expensive lingerie would have charged in, slapped his arse smartly, yelling, ‘You bastard’. Not me, I crept away unnoticed. Numb. In shock.
Embarrassed I looked around the carriage. The girl was openly sniggering. Bloody typical. Even now, eight years later, I was making myself look stupid over Mike. I’d had other boyfriends but I’d always made sure I kept things light and superficial. No chance of getting hurt that way. Unfortunately light and superficial had worn thin of late. I wanted more. Through the window I could see the words Embankment. I needed to keep my wits about me. I hadn’t realised we were nearly at Waterloo.
I remembered Mike’s face when he realised I knew.
‘Busy weekend?’ I’d asked coolly, when he’d finally turned up at my door.
‘No, not really,’ he’d said smiling, charming as ever. ‘I had to get an essay done. Sorry babes, meant to call you but spent the whole weekend holed up in my room, burning the midnight oil to get it finished.’
‘Really, and here I was thinking you’d spent the whole weekend shagging some strange redhead,’ I snapped viciously
Shock registered in his face as his eyes widened. The big, fat, lying, slimy git.
‘Mike, you didn’t lock your door,’ I’d told him with quiet despair.
It turned out that the girl with red hair, Tracey, had planned her visit as a surprise. She’d certainly accomplished that goal. She was the girl from his home town, the one he’d been seeing since they were both sixteen. Fed up with Mike’s constant excuses of a huge workload, she’d arrived unannounced. Mm, that would be the workload that involved three hours of lectures a week, fifty-three down the pub and the rest shagging me.
Scowling, I pulled myself out of my seat as we drew into Waterloo. It wasn’t that I harboured any feelings for the bastard. It was the deceit. Would I have ever known if I hadn’t caught him? Never once had it occurred to me that there might be a Tracey waiting for him at home at the end of every term. I was, inadvertently, the other woman. Me! That was the ultimate irony. Fidelity ranked number one on my list of relationship prerequisites and another reason that made anything with Daniel impossible. He was Emily’s now.
I weaved my way along the platform heading up to the mainline station feeling depressed and cross with myself. Time to change things. I would go out for that drink with Ned. I ought to give him a chance, after all, three minutes was hardly any time at all and look at Piers and Lucy now.
When I left the flat at six the next morning, I felt decidedly groggy. I hadn’t slept well. I’d had one of those bizarre dreams that feels as if it’s lasted all night. My subconscious had run riot and conjured up one unlikely scenario after another, taking place in an airport, a junior school and a garden shed respectively. Throughout I’d been married to Mike, phoning Daniel with whom I was having an affair that Mike knew all about and had Anthony – crossword man from the speed-date – camped out in the garden shed waiting for me to run
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