Betrayal, Shock, and Secrets.
Natalie was preparing supper when a knock came at the door. “Odd,” she thought, “weve a doorbell, and all our friends know it.” Opening the door, she found a woman of about her own age gazing at her with curiosity.
“Good eveningyoure Natalie, arent you?” the stranger asked.
“Natalie, yes. And you are? Forgive me, but I dont recall meeting you.”
“You wouldnt. Im a close friend of your husbands.”
“Olivers?”
“Ollie, actually…”
“Ah. I suppose I shouldnt be surprised by the pet nameIve grown used to it. Though I must say, Ive never had one of you turn up unannounced before. Most call ahead. So, what should I call you?”
“Margaret. You see, the thing is…”
“Dont fret, Margaret. You and my husband are in love, is that it? And Im in the way?”
“How did you?”
“Oh, youre hardly the first to tell me so. But let me assure you, Im not keeping him. Take him today, if you like. Whats his excuse this time? That our children are too young for him to leave us?”
“No, nothing like that. I know your boys are grownuniversity students.”
“Ah. Then is it that Im ill, and hes too honourable to abandon me? As you see, Im perfectly well.”
“No, he never said that.”
“What other lies has he spun? That his employer frowns upon divorce? Utter nonsense. His manager couldnt care less about his employees marital affairs.”
“No, youre missing it… He said we must wait… wait until your father passes.”
Natalie froze. Her father, barely seventy, was in robust health and nowhere near departing this world.
“You must be mistaken.”
“No, Ollie was quite clearonce Arthur Whitmore joins his ancestors, hell leave you at once.”
“And why not sooner? Has he been pretending to fear my father? I assure you, Dads never lifted a finger against him.”
“No, Ollie respects him deeply. But he says once your fathers gone, youll move into his flat.”
“His flat? The audacity! My fathers in excellent health, and Ive no intention of moving anywhere. That flat was mine before marriage, and I wont be handing it over.”
“ButOllie said it would come to him, and youd take the country house, the car, the garage…”
“Did he now? And yet you couldnt wait for all this to unfoldwhy come to me today?”
“Im not getting any younger. I want to enjoy my happiness while I can. It doesnt matter to me whether he has his own home. He can live with me.”
“Sensible enough. What is it you want from me, then?”
“Only for you to let him go. Nothing more.”
“Take him.”
“Pardon?”
“Im not stopping him. I never havethough I confess, I loved him once. Foolishly, I thought hed settle, then told myself the children needed their father. Lately, I even believed his wandering days were over. Clearly, I was wrong.”
“You were. Soyoull truly release him?”
“Of course. You may even take his things now, if you like.”
“Oh no, I couldnt manage. Ollie can fetch them when hes ready. Just promise you wont hold him back.”
“Set your mind at easehes free as of tonight. Ill file for divorce tomorrow, and well divide everything fairly. Though I wont promise him the flat. It came from my grandmother, and the renovations were paid for by my parents. Dad kept every receipthes meticulous that way. But no matteryouve a home of your own.”
“I do, yes. He shant be homeless.”
“Somehow, I doubt he ever will be. Ollies always landed on his feet.”
“Goodbye, Natalie.”
“Farewell, Margaret. Lets hope we never meet again.”
As Margaret left, Natalie began packing Olivers belongings. She had no intention of quarrelling, but she knew precisely how to ensure he walked out himself. Hed assume, as always, he could return whenever he pleasedbut not this time.
*The nerve of the manwaiting for my father to die so he can claim my home. Years of turning a blind eye, and this is his gratitude. Well, no more. Off you go, Oliver dear. Live long and…* she mused, neatly folding his clothes into suitcases.
When Oliver returned from work, he noticed nothing amisssave that his wife declined supper. Not that it troubled him. Hed planned to dine heartily, then slip away for his usual “evening stroll” before sauntering home as if all were well.
“Darling, supper was lovely. Think Ill take a walk.”
*There it is. Go on, then,* Natalie thought.
“Of course, dear. At your age, evening walks are quite beneficial.”
“My age? What do you mean?” Oliver bristled. At fifty-two, he fancied himself still in his prime.
“Well, youre past fifty. Not exactly young anymore.”
“Nonsense! Ive years aheadI could outpace any lad!”
“Could you now? I wonder. Weve slept apart for a yeartrouble in that department, perhaps?”
“Rubbish! Im fit as ever!”
“Are you? My friend Peteryour age, mindhas no such difficulties. He often says how much he misses me.”
“Who?”
“Peter. When you moved to the spare room, I thought it best to seek companionship elsewhere. Youve no use for me, but Im still a woman. Pity, reallybut there it is. Go on your walk, clear your head. Well settle things later.”
“Pity? Ill have you know”
“Spare me. Off you go.”
“Natalie, I wont stay where Im mocked! A woman who thinks me old has no place beside me. Pack my things. Dont expect forgivenessI could overlook your Peter, but pity? Never.”
“Your bags are ready. Ring if Ive missed anything. Go with God. Pity you wont live to see Fathers passing.”
“Whats that got to do with anything?”
“Nothing at all. Just a thought. Go on, dear. I trust you wont contest the divorce?”
“Contest? Ha! But dont think youll keep everything.”
“I wouldnt dream of it. Though you seem to have forgottenthe flat was never yours.”
“What?”
“Quite so. Grandmothers gift, remember? Dad has the paperwork.”
“But I lived there twenty-five years!”
“Lucky you. Fancy freeloading in a home renovated by your in-laws. We always holidayed while the work was doneDad signed every contract, kept every receipt. Youve no claim.”
“So thats it? I thought”
“Thought wrong. No fools here. Go, darlingthe courts will give you whats fair. Off to your new life, where youre valued, respected, and deemed ever youthful.”
Snatching a suitcase, Oliver stormed out, hastening to Margaret, who awaited him eagerly.
The next day, Natalie filed for divorce. Oliver raised no objectionMargarets flat suited him nicely, and her constant flattery about his vigour pleased him no end. The courts awarded him the car and garage; the country house went to Natalie.
Selling the unwanted property, she embarked on travels with her fatherfirst to York, then Brighton, then countless other places. Arthur Whitmore, hale and hearty, had no intention of departing this world anytime soon.
Six months later, Margaret noticed Olivers “strolls” grew longer. After shadowing him one evening, she packed his bags and barred the door. Returning home, he pleaded, but she wouldnt even answer.
So Oliver turned back to Natalie. Her opinion of his age no longer mattered.
*Let her think me oldso long as she gives me a room,* he thought, approaching her house.
But neighbours informed him she was awaytravelling with her father again. Where to now? The garage, perhaps? It had electricity. A stove could be fitted. Late spring still left all summer ahead.
Orwhy not seek out some naïve young thing? He *was* still a vigorous man, after all.
