Hubby told his mistress I was dead!
Why did people think that I’d passed away.?! Lisa Tubbs, 52, Middlesex
Handing my teenage boys their coats and bags, I bundled them out of the door. ‘Time for school,’ I said, grabbing my keys.
It was early 2005 and, after splitting with my husband – the boys’ dad – over 12 months earlier, life had been non-stop.
After 18 years together, it felt strange being alone, and I really missed having someone to talk to.
So when I bumped into an old friend Graham Tubbs, in town that February, it felt like fate.
We’d been mates as teenagers, shared the odd kiss. But we’d drifted apart, married other people.
Now, we got chatting and I felt a flutter of excitement when Graham said he was single, too. Maybe my luck’s changing, I thought. Graham fast became a friend who I could rely on.
He was always on the other end of the phone if I needed him, and he genuinely seemed to care.
And when he offered to
Graham genuinely seemed to care...
help decorate my new house, I was touched.
By May, we’d picked up where we’d left off as teenagers. Our son was born in June 2006 and, that September, we married.
Another boy followed in November 2007, then a baby girl in April 2011.
Life as a family of seven was a struggle at times, but Graham and I bumbled along, too busy with the kids to make romance a priority. Then, in August 2011, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. I needed surgery. It was terrifying. Shortly after,
I was admitted to Guildford Hospital to have both thyroids and lymph nodes removed.
Graham kept things going at home, made sure the kids were fed and clean.
But, as I recovered – feeling alone, vulnerable and scared – he barely visited me.
‘I’m busy with the kids, love,’ he said on the phone. ‘You know what it’s like.’ And the truth was, I did. But it didn’t stop me wishing he’d pop in and give me a cuddle.
In January 2012, I began a short course of radiotherapy, and later that year, in November, I was given the all-clear.
Life slowly went back to normal and I counted my blessings every day.
Thankful that I had a second chance, I became determined to make more memories, spend more quality time with Graham and the kids.
But he didn’t seem to feel the same. Instead, he became distant, was always glued to his phone. He started working later and, whenever I tried to call, he’d never pick up. By early December 2014, Graham was barely around. As usual, I heaved the box of decorations from the cupboard, spent ages making the house festive. ‘Looks good, love,’ Graham said, arriving home later that day. ‘Glad you like it,’ I said, stepping back to survey my handiwork.
I sipped my cuppa and turned to say something else, but Graham was on his phone again. ‘I’m off out,’ he said suddenly, standing up. ‘Where?’ I asked. ‘You haven’t finished your tea.’ ‘I need to pick something up,’ he said. As he left, a gnawing feeling in my stomach told me that something wasn’t right.
The next week, my eldest son popped over, looking concerned. ‘Mum, I’ve had a weird message on
Facebook,’ he said to me. ‘Who is it from?’ I asked. ‘A friend who knows Graham,’ he replied, handing me his phone.
Sorry to hear about your mum, the message said.
What? Do they mean me? I was perfectly fine! ‘Graham’s been acting odd,’ I confided. ‘Always on his phone, hardly at home. What do you think the message means?’
‘I don’t know,’ my son said, but he told me he’d do some digging.
Later that week, Graham and I were driving to Sainsbury’s when my son called my mobile.
‘I think Graham’s cheating,’ he said bluntly.
My heart thudded. He’d been distant lately, but he was my best friend – I loved him to bits. He wouldn’t do that to me, would he?
My son said he’d scoured Graham’s Facebook profile, seen a mystery woman liking his pictures.
So my boy had messaged her, and asked if she knew Graham Tubbs.
When she replied she did, my son told her Graham was married.
He told me his wife was dead. That she died from cancer some years back, she’d replied.
‘They’ve been seeing each other for months,’ my son finished.
Looking over at Graham, I felt sick.
‘You’re a liar!’ I spat angrily, getting out of the car at the supermarket.
‘What are you talking about?’ he gabbled.
‘You’re having an affair!’ I screamed in the middle of
the supermarket car park.
He’d told this woman I was dead, so he could get away with his cheating. Despicable!
I stomped off, couldn’t bear to be near him for a second longer.
In a daze, I wandered around the shop, picking up bread and milk. I felt numb, struggling to take it all in.
Then I walked to pick up the little ones, then 8, 7 and 3, from school.
That night, after I’d put the kids to bed, I demanded answers from Graham.
‘You said I was dead!’ I sobbed, devastated. A sickening lie.
‘I’m sorry,’ he stuttered, but he couldn’t explain his abhorrent behaviour.
‘I want you gone,’ I hissed. ‘Don’t kick me out!’ he begged. ‘Not at Christmas.’
Watching him snivelling on the edge of our bed made my skin crawl. But I didn’t want to ruin Christmas for the kids, so I let him stay.
Come Christmas Day, seven days later, I bit back tears as I basted the turkey.
Thankfully, once we’d all opened presents, Graham had to work, and the kids running around gave me a distraction.
But, in the New Year, I chucked Graham out. He ran straight into the arms of his mistress.
Graham and I are friends for the kids’ sake, but I’ll never forget his betrayal.
He killed me off so he could cheat! Unforgivable.
Now I’m saving for a divorce and looking to the future. Because I’m alive and kicking – and far better off without a rat like that.
‘Don’t kick me out at Christmas!’