After dropping his mistress off, Buchin bids her a gentle goodbye and heads home. He lingers outside his flats for a moment, mentally preparing what he’ll say to his wife. He climbs the stairs and unlocks the door.
“Hello,” says Buchin. “Claire, are you in?”
“I’m here,” Claire replies coolly. “Hi. Well, shall I start frying the pork chops?”
Buchin promises himself he’ll be straightdirect, decisive, manly! Time to put an end to his double life, before the taste of his mistress’s kisses fades and the dull routine of domesticity swallows him once again.
“Claire,” Buchin clears his throat, “I’ve come to tell you we need to part ways.”
Claire takes the news with remarkable calm. In fact, Claire Buchin is notoriously unflappable. Buchin used to tease her about it, calling her “Claire Frost” back in the day.
“What do you mean?” she asks from the kitchen door. “So, Im not frying pork chops?”
“Up to you,” says Buchin. “Cook them if you want to, dont if you dont. Im leaving you for another woman.”
Most wives, faced with such a declaration, might slap their husband or storm into a furious rage. Claire, though, is not most wives.
“What a performance,” she says. “By the way, did you pick up my boots from the cobbler?”
“Er, no,” Buchin stammers. “If its that important, Ill go and fetch them right now!”
“Oh, honestly” Claire sighs. “Typical Buchin. Send a fool for boots and hell bring back your old ones.”
Buchin feels rather wounded. His attempt to break off the marriage seems to be going all wrongtheres no drama, no passion, no bitter accusations. But what did he expect from a wife nicknamed “Claire Frost”?
“I dont think youre hearing me, Claire,” Buchin protests. “Im officially declaring that Im leaving you for another woman, leaving you behind, and all you care about is your boots!”
“Exactly,” replies Claire. “Unlike me, you can walk wherever you like. Your boots arent stuck at the cobblers. Why not use them?”
Theyve been together for years, yet Buchin still cant always tell if his wife is being witty or dead serious. It was her calm, non-confrontational manner and quiet nature that attracted him in the first place. Plus, shes sensible around the house, and has always had a certain firmness about her.
Claire is steadfast, loyal, as unshakable as an anchor. But now, Buchin loves someone elsepassionately, sinfully, sweetly! So hes determined not to hedge, to cut loose, to strike out for a new life.
“Claire,” he says with a mix of solemnity, sorrow, and regret, “Im grateful for everything, but I must go, because I love another woman. I dont love you anymore.”
“Well, thats a shock,” Claire says flatly. “Doesnt love mea half-wit in sneakers! My mum loved the man next door, my dad loved his dominoes and whisky. So what? Look how fabulously I turned out in the end.”
Buchin knows arguing with Claire is like banging ones head on a brick wall. Every word lands like a weight. His initial resolve slips away, and all desire to argue vanishes.
“Claire, you truly are fabulous,” he says weakly. “But I love someone else now. Hopelessly. And Im going to leave for her, do you understand?”
“Someone elsewho?” asks Claire. “That Natalie Nettles, perhaps?”
Buchin is taken aback. A year ago, he did have a fling with Nettles, but he had no idea that Claire even knew her!
“How do you know?” he starts, then catches himself. “Well, no, Claire, its not Nettles.”
Claire yawns.
“Then what about Sophie Butterworth? Going after her now?”
A chill runs down Buchins spine. Butterworth had been his lover once too, but that was over. If Claire knew, why had she never said a word? Ah yesshes made of stone, getting anything out of her is impossible.
“No, not Butterworth, not Nettles,” Buchin insists. “This is someone elsean amazing woman, the woman of my dreams. I cant live without her, and Im going to her. Dont try to talk me out of it!”
“Well, must be Maya then,” Claire says. “Oh, Buchin youre such a muddle, arent you? Some big secret. The woman of your dreamsMaya Valentine. Thirty-five, one child, two terminations right?”
Buchin clutches his head. Bullseye! He is, in fact, having an affair with Maya Valentine.
“How?!” Buchin gasps. “Who told you? Were you spying on me?”
“Elementary, Buchin,” says Claire. “Darling, Im a gynaecologist with years of experience. Ive examined nearly every woman in this godforsaken town, while youve only managed a handful. All I have to do is check the books to know exactly where youve been, you daft thing!”
Buchin pulls himself together.
“Okay, pretend youve guessed right!” he says bravely. “Lets say its Valentine. That doesnt change a thing, Im leaving.”
“Youre a fool, Buchin,” says Claire. “You couldve at least asked! By the way, if you think Mayas special, youre mistakenits all the same down there, take that from a doctor. Have you ever seen the medical records of your so-called dream woman?”
“N-no” Buchin confesses.
“Exactly! First, go have a shower. Tomorrow, Ill ring Simon to get you seen at the clinic without queueing,” Claire says. “Then we can talk. Its a disgracea gynaecologists husband who cant even find himself a healthy woman!”
“So what do I do?” Buchin asks plaintively.
“Im off to fry those pork chops,” Claire replies. “Get yourself washed and do whatever you like. And if you ever find yourself in need of a dream woman without any complaintsI can always recommend someone”
