Shock read: Betrayed... on the school run
Caroline Benson-luscombe, 45, was so grateful her husband helped with the school drop-off. But she had no idea what else he was up toé
‘I began to feel uneasy’
Walking through the school gates with my children, Hannah, then eight, and Rhys, five, one of the other mums, Sarah* hurried over. ‘Can I ask your advice?’ she said. ‘I think my youngest has a bug.’
It was 2007 and, kissing my own children goodbye, I then gave Sarah my full attention. As a pharmacy assistant, I was often stopped by the mums who wanted to check with me about little health niggles but I never minded at all.
Five years earlier my husband Greg and I had moved to a village in South Wales, from our home in Croydon, South London, and we hadn’t known anyone. It was only when Hannah had joined the nursery at the local primary school that we’d got to meet other families and now I loved meeting up like this at the school gates.
Greg liked to help with the drop-off, too, when he could. He worked as an aircraft engineer and for three days of the week stayed away at Heathrow Airport, near London. I always missed him like crazy.
We’d been together since we were 16 and were so close. And as soon as he was back, he would be there doing the school run or helping around the house. He also took part in a local martial arts class.
Then, a few months later, Greg came back from dropping the kids off and mentioned he’d bumped into Sarah, too. ‘She was telling me how she wants to learn martial arts,’ he said. ‘So I invited her to my class.’
I liked the idea of us being so part of the community. ‘Great idea,’ I said and, within a few months, Sarah really seemed to be enjoying the classes. Only, I noticed Greg kept getting texts from her. ‘She’s just asking about training,’ he said. But whenever I saw her at school, she’d always ignore me and make a beeline for Greg instead.
I told myself to stop being silly – Sarah was married, had six children herself. Besides, we knew her husband, too, and they always seemed happy. But as the weeks passed I began to feel uneasy. Then one day, in February 2008, when Greg was at work, I logged on to his computer.
‘I’m being terrible,’ I thought to myself as I checked his computer files. But to my horror, I saw a picture there from Sarah. Clicking on it, I almost gagged. It was a selfie of her posing in skimpy lingerie.
Then, in another email, I found a receipt from a hotel – with her name on. The date on the bill was from the previous month – when Greg had told me he was at a martial arts event in London with a male friend.
I sat there, shaking and appalled. When Greg arrived home, I pounced. ‘What’s going on?’ I said, telling him I’d seen the photo. His face went pale. ‘It was a joke,’ he stammered. ‘Sarah’s friend sent it to embarrass her, that’s all.’
‘And the hotel receipt?’ I asked. But he had an answer for that as well.
‘Sarah was at the event too and it made sense to book into the same hotel so she wasn’t on her own,’ he said. ‘Honestly, we’re just friends.’
We’d been together for so long, I told myself that of course Greg was telling the truth and that Sarah was obviously trying her luck.
Only, four weeks later, I’d just dropped the children off at school when she came over. ‘Look at this,’ she said, giving a smug smile. Holding up her phone, I saw a text message on the screen. My stomach lurched. It was from Greg to her. ‘I love you too,’ it read.
I stood there, my body shaking with anger. Grabbing my phone, I rang Greg. ‘Get to school now,’ I said. He arrived in minutes and when he saw me next to Sarah, he looked horrified – knowing he’d been caught out.
All around us, I could sense other mums in the playground pretending not to watch as Greg blurted out how he and Sarah had been having an affair. ‘It’s been going on for three months,’ he mumbled. I stared at him in disbelief. This was the man I loved and trusted, the father of my kids. ‘Don’t bother coming home,’ I spat, before turning and hurrying off.
I didn’t allow myself to cry until I was inside the house. In my mind, I kept replaying that awful scene in the playground as Greg confessed. How could he have done this to me, to his family? When Greg finally did turn up, it was to pack a bag. ‘I’m going to stay with Mum,’ he said, sheepishly.
I watched him leave and I wept all over again. When the children came home, I tried to be strong. ‘Daddy’s away working,’ I lied. I didn’t want to upset them and a part of me hoped Greg would come to his senses and realise he’d made a mistake.
Only that didn’t happen. The next I heard was that Sarah had been to see Greg at his mum’s house in Crawley. I even discovered that they had slept together in my marital bed. I felt sick.
I couldn’t believe my own husband could stoop so low. And, in February 2009, when Greg told me Sarah was pregnant and had split from her husband, I knew I wanted nothing more to do with him. But it was hard on the children, especially Rhys, then seven, as one of Sarah’s children was in his class. ‘Why doesn’t Daddy want us any more?’ he’d sob.
All I could do was push on with the divorce. When it finally came through in 2010, Sarah and Greg thankfully moved out of the area.
Staying strong
It was hard to pick up our lives. I was lucky enough to marry again and have a daughter, Abigail, but sadly my husband died from cancer shortly after we married.
Since then, the children have been a tremendous support and we’ve learnt to be strong. I have nothing to do with Greg but the kids are in touch with him. And I have heard he and Sarah are now married.
But I refuse to feel sad. I have Hannah, now 18, Rhys, 15, and Abigail, six, who bring me such joy.
I could never have imagined the school run would end up wrecking my marriage, but at least I got to see Greg for what he really is – a liar and a cheat. Sarah is welcome to him.
‘How could he do this to us?’