read. Sherry from Iowa was worried because she’d found a stocking in her husband’s car; Brandy from North Carolina was in despair because her boyfriend kept talking about a woman at work; and Chuck from Utah was upset because he’d intercepted his wife talking to her lover on the phone.
I’m almost certain he’s cheating, said Sherry. But although I want to know in one way, in another I don’t, because I’m scared of what I may find out.
Go with your guts, girl, advised Mary-Ann from Maine. A woman’s intuition is NEVER wrong.
Maybe it’s HIS stocking? suggested Frank from New Jersey. Maybe your husband’s a cross-dresser, and is too embarrassed to say.
Follow him to work, said Cathy from Milwaukee. But make sure you wear a wig.
I can’t. He’s a long-distance lorry-driver, Sherry had e-mailed back. I decided to log on as ‘Emily’ because that’s my middle name.
I think my husband may be having an affair, I typed. Or it could just be that I’m paranoid and insecure. But he has been behaving strangely, and I’m not sure it’s all due to pressure at work. He’s a publisher, I went on. So he gets to meet all sorts of glamorous people in the book world. And though I know he’s never strayed before, I think he may be doing so now. Firstly, he ordered flowers for someone in December, using our joint credit card. And when I challenged him about this he claimed – not very convincingly – that they were congratulatory flowers for an author. Secondly, I’ve been finding some odd things in his pockets – chewing gum, which he hates; and today I found a packet of cigarettes. But in fifteen years of marriage I have never, ever, seen him smoke. So I simply don’t trust him in the way I’ve always done before. And it’s making me feel terrible, so I’d be grateful for your thoughts.
The next afternoon I phoned Lily. ‘I need your advice,’ I said.
‘Of course, darling,’ she replied. ‘Whatever I can do to help.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘it’s about Peter.’
‘Is it?’ she breathed. ‘Oh dear. What’s happened?’
I sat down on the hall chair. ‘I’ve found out a few things.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. But I don’t know what they mean.’
‘They probably mean nothing,’ she said confidently. ‘But I’ll tell you what I think.’
‘Right … ’ I began nervously. ‘He sent me flowers.’
‘I see,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Mmm,’ she added with a regretful sigh. ‘You know what they say about that.’
‘Yes, but the thing is,’ I said miserably, ‘that he sent someone else flowers, too.’
‘No!’ she gasped.
‘He claims they were for an author, Lily, but I’m just not sure. And then … ’
‘Yes?’
‘Oh Lily, I feel so disloyal telling you this,’ I said as I twisted my wedding ring back and forth.
‘Darling, you’re not being disloyal,’ she said quietly. ‘All you’re doing is protecting yourself.’
‘Protecting myself?’
‘Yes. Because if it is serious – though I’m absolutely sure it’s not – you don’t want to be taken by surprise. So tell me, what else have you found?’
‘Well … ’ I began again. And then stopped. ‘Oh God, I can’t go on, Lily. I feel so treacherous. I mean, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you see, you’ve never had a husband.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly, Faith,’ she said with a giggle. ‘You know perfectly well I’ve had lots. Now, what were you going to say?’
I heaved a huge sigh. ‘I’ve found some pretty strange things in his pockets. For example, a packet of chewing gum, but Lily, he hates the stuff. And yesterday I discovered a packet of Lucky Strike. But the point is, Peter doesn’t smoke.’
‘Mmm. How very strange.’
‘And then this morning when I got back from work I went through his pockets again … ’
‘Naturally … ’
‘And I found this note in his jacket.’
‘A note? What does it say?’
‘It says: Peter, Jean has already phoned three times this morning and is absolutely desperate to talk to you, desperate is underlined. Twice,’ I added anxiously.
‘Jean,’ she said. ‘Well … that could mean nothing, really. It could be quite innocent.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Yes. I do. And if it is innocent – which I’m quite sure it is – then he’ll be perfectly happy to tell you exactly who this “Jean” is. So my advice is to ask him outright, and watch how he reacts. Now, don’t worry about all this, Faith,’ Lily added. ‘I’m praying for you, by the way.’
‘Oh. Thanks.’
‘I said five Hail Marys for you last night and I chanted for twenty minutes, too.’
‘Great.’ Lily has a slightly promiscuous approach to religion.
‘I also looked at your horoscope this morning,’ she went on seriously. ‘There’s a lot of tension in your sign at the moment between Saturn and Mars, so this is leading to adverse celestial activity on the relationship front.’
‘I see.’
‘But you’re doing the right thing.’
‘Am I? You know, Lily, I think I’d rather bury my head in the sand and let life jog along like before.’
‘Well, of course, ignorance is bliss, they say. But … ’ She sighed.
‘But I’ve got to see it through,’ I concluded as Lily murmured her assent. ‘And now I’ve started it’s becoming an obsession. I feel I’ve just got to find out the truth.’
‘Well, you’re going about it the right way,’ she said encouragingly. ‘And although of course I don’t want to interfere, it seems to me that you’re sleuthing away quite nicely there. I mean, your investigations are getting results.’
‘My investigations are going well,’ I agreed, ‘but now I’ve got a bit stuck.’
‘Well, Faith,’ she added, softly, ‘privately I’d say that your detection work has been very good.’ Privately? Detection? Eureka!
‘I need a private detective,’ I said.
‘Have
