Did the washing up again. The dishes have been sitting in the sink for three days now. There isnt even a clean mug left anywhere. I waited, and waited… What am I supposed to do? I stumbled through the front door after work, famished, cross, worn out. But before I could have anything, the mountain of plates and cups had to be dealt with otherwise thered be nothing left to eat from.
And as for food, theres nothing about either. I just clicked the kettle on and put a saucepan on the hob filled with water. Maybe I can boil a few sausages? Or just eat them boiled. Im genuinely starving. Never imagined Id have to live like this… Oh, and what about Marinas leek and potato soup! Would give anything for a bowl of it right now…
And her pies! Proper English pies, with all sorts of fillings. And those ribs, her Sunday roast specials. The house was always spotless. Returning home after work, everything shining, smelling fresh and bright. And now…
How did I never see it before? Thought Marina only cared about laundry and cooking, nothing else…
I bumped into Lucy one afternoon. Gorgeous, short skirt and stilettos. She was just leaving the beauty parlour. Manicure gleaming, hair perfect. At that moment, she seemed the only woman in the world…
I never went to salons myself, spent nothing for a haircut, never fancied dying my hair. Never strutted around in the latest fashions either. Although Marina was slender and lovely in her own way. She simply didnt go for all that girlish nonsense. Always in jeans and trainers. Darting off to the corner shop or whizzing about cleaning at home.
I love someone else! I told Marina as soon as I walked in. And Im leaving. I wont lie to you.
Marina just kept whisking cream for the Victoria sponge. She didnt even look up. And I didnt spot the tears silently spilling from her eyes…
I got tired of seeing a housewife by my side, not a real woman. Thats how Lucy pulled me in. And now here I am doing the dishes, scrubbing the floors, cleaning up endlessly. I havent truly mastered cooking, and sometimes I wake in the night haunted by dreams of Marinas pies…
Lucys got fresh nails now, so she wont touch the dishes. Shes parked on the sofa, flicking through a glossy magazine, off to the salon again for her hair. Around her, dresses are scattered over the carpet, and her heels have tripped me twice. Shes still dithering what to wear to the parlour. And the empty glass by the door was supposed to go out yesterday, still standing there untouched.
Why did I swap my wife for someone as idle as Lucy? Wouldnt take much to waste away in this place. Maybe Ill make some pasta, again. Im still hungry…
