**A Late Farewell: A Goodbye on the Way Home**
After kissing his lover goodbye with tender affection, Philip Cartwright got into his car and drove home. He paused for a moment outside the front door, taking a deep breath, rehearsing in his mind what he would say to his wife. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.
“Hello,” said Philip. “Eleanor, are you home?”
“I am,” replied his wife, flatly. “Hello. Shall I fry the chops, then?”
Philip had promised himself he would be direct, firm, no beating around the busha man of action! It was time to end this double life while his lover’s warmth still lingered on his lips, before routine swallowed him whole again.
“Eleanor,” he coughed, steadying his voice. “Ive come to tell you we need to separate.”
The news was met with unsettling calm. Eleanor wasnt one for outbursts. In the past, Philip had even called her “Eleanor the Ice Queen” for it.
“What do you mean?” she asked, standing in the kitchen doorway. “Should I not fry the chops?”
“Thats up to you,” Philip said. “Fry them if you like, dont if you dont. Im leaving. For another woman.”
Most wives would react with furya frying pan hurled at their husband, perhaps. But Eleanor wasnt most wives.
“Oh, what a tragedy,” she murmured. “Did you pick up my shoes from the cobblers?”
“No,” Philip admitted, taken aback. “If its so important, Ill fetch them now!”
“Honestly” Eleanor muttered. “Thats just like you, Philip. Send a fool to fetch shoes, and he brings back the old ones.”
Philip was offended. The dramatic confrontation hed imagined was crumbling. Where were the tears, the shouts, the righteous anger? But what else could he expect from a woman as cold as Eleanor the Ice Queen?
“I dont think youre listening, Eleanor!” he said, raising his voice. “Im telling you Im leaving you for another woman, and youre talking about shoes!”
“Exactly,” she replied. “Unlike me, you can go wherever you please. Your shoes arent at the cobblers. Whats stopping you?”
Theyd been together for years, yet Philip never knew when Eleanor was serious or mocking. At first, it was her calm, her discretion, that had drawn him innot to mention her steady beauty and practical ways.
Eleanor was solid, loyal, and unshakable as stone. But now Philip loved another. He loved with passion, sin, and sweetness! It was time to cut ties and set off for a new life.
“So there it is, Eleanor,” Philip declared, solemn and slightly regretful. “Im grateful for everything, but Im leaving because I love another. I dont love you anymore.”
“Fascinating,” Eleanor said without raising her voice. “He doesnt love me, poor thing. My mother fancied the neighbour, my father loved dominoes and whisky. And look what an incredible woman I turned out to be.”
Arguing with Eleanor was pointless. Every word from her weighed like a boulder. His initial fire faded; he no longer had the stomach for conflict.
“Eleanor, you really are something,” Philip said bitterly. “But I love someone else. I love with passion, sin, and sweetness. And Im leaving. Understand?”
“Someone else who?” his wife asked. “Not Tanya Miller, surely?”
Philip recoiled. A year ago, hed had a fling with Tanya, but he never imagined Eleanor knew her!
“How do you know about her?” he started, then stopped. “Never mind. No, Eleanor, its not Miller.”
Eleanor yawned.
“Then it must be Sandra Fairfax. You went back to her?”
A chill ran down Philips spine. Sandra had also been his mistress once. If Eleanor knew, why had she never said anything? Of courseshe was a fortress, never revealing a thing.
“Wrong again,” Philip insisted. “Its not Fairfax or Miller. Its another woman, wonderful, the love of my life. I cant live without her, and Im leaving. Dont try to stop me!”
“Then its got to be Mabel,” Eleanor concluded. “Oh, Philip, Philip youre truly hopeless. Your big secret. The love of your lifeMabel Venton, thirty-five, one child, two miscarriages Am I right?”
Philip clutched his head. Shed hit the mark! His affair was indeed with Mabel.
“But how?” he stammered. “Who told you? Have you been spying on me?”
“Elementary, Philip,” Eleanor replied. “You know Ive been a gynaecologist for years. Ive examined half the women in this town, while youve only known a handful. One look, and I know exactly where youve been, you silly sod!”
Philip took a deep breath, trying to salvage his dignity.
“Suppose youre right!” he declared, haughty. “Even if its Mabel, nothing changes. Im leaving.”
“You really are thick, Philip,” Eleanor sighed. “You couldve asked. Then again, theres nothing special about hershes just like the others. And I say that as a doctor. Have you seen your sweethearts medical history?”
“N-no,” he admitted.
“Right. First, go straight to the shower. Second, Ill ring Dr. Harper tomorrow to see you straight away. Then well talk. What a disgracea gynaecologists husband picking an unhealthy woman!”
“But what do I do?” Philip asked pitifully.
“Ill fry the chops,” Eleanor said, turning away. “You, wash up and do as you please. If you want a healthy woman, just sayI can recommend someone”
