Did the washing up again. Its been three days now, dishes piling up in the sink. Not even a mug left for tea. I waited and waited, but nothing changed. What now? Came home from the office, peckish, cross, drained. But before eating, theres no choice must scrub the plates, otherwise theres nothing left to dine on.
And the cupboards are bare. I flicked on the kettle and filled a saucepan with water. Perhaps Ill boil up a few sausages. Or just watch them simmer. My stomachs protesting loudly. I never imagined Id have to go through this ordeal… And Marinas leek-and-potato soup! How splendid it was! How I wish I had a bowl right this minute…
Those pies, too! Puff pastries with every filling you could dream of. And her roast rib specialty. And what about the house! Impeccably tidy, sparkling clean. When you got in after a hard day, everything shone with freshness the smell lingering everywhere. And now…
Why didnt I notice it before? It seemed Marina needed nothing but her laundry and her kitchen.
Once, I saw Lena in town. Stunning, wearing a short skirt and towering heels. Stepping out of a beauty parlour, immaculate and striking. At the moment, it seemed…
I never visited salons, never spent a penny on my hair, never fancied colours in my locks. And shops for the latest fashion not my thing. Though she was slender, beautiful, too. Just never cared for the girlish fuss. Jeans and trainers, always. Off to run errands, or dashing around the lounge.
I love someone else! I said to Marina when I got home. Im leaving you. I cant pretend anymore.
Marina kept whisking cream for her Victoria sponge, didnt even turn to look. I never realised she was crying, tears falling silently…
Got fed up seeing only a housekeeper beside me, not a woman. Thats why I was drawn to Lena. But now I do the washing up, mop the floors, vacuum, tidy. Havent mastered the art of cookery yet, and sometimes, I dream of Marinas apple turnovers through the night…
Lenas had a new set of nails done and wont touch the dishcloth. She sits sprawled on the settee, flipping through Vogue, planning the next hair appointment. Dresses scattered across the carpet, shoes here and there Ive tripped over them more than once. Shes undecided on what frock to wear to the salon. Yesterdays glass tumbler sits on the doorstep, still uncollected.
Why did I swap my wife for such a lazy girl? It hardly seems worth it. Shall I boil pasta again? Im absolutely starving…
