The 20-year

Helen thought their marriage was rock solid…

It’s not doing you any good, staying in every evening on your own, Helen. Why don’t you give my am-dram group a go?’ Mum asked.

She’d popped round on my day off work.

Unlike me, Mum had a great social life.

She was out almost every evening with one activity or another — ballroom dancing, the art circle, or an am-dram group.

‘I won’t be alone for long. Vince and I are only apart because of his job abroad. The paperwork will be sorted soon,’ I reminded her.

Vince worked in TV advertising.

‘Of course, love.’

She had a strange look on her face that I couldn’t read. My mind flew back…

The shock news of our friends’ divorce six months ago had affected me and Vince.

Like us, Mark and Julie had been married for 20 years. I had thought their marriage was so solid and steady!

‘Divorce is a drastic decision, Julie,’ I said, when she’d called in one evening for nibbles and wine.

Vince had tactfully popped out to the pub.

She shrugged.

‘Well, I started thinking, is this it? There must be more to life than trailing around the supermarket every weekend, a huge pile of washing and ironing and endless cleaning.’

Radio producer Mark wasn’t keen on housework, and he refused to hire a cleaner, so it all fell on to Julie’s shoulders. She was a successful team leader in IT.

‘It sounds like you’re stuck in a rut. Have you tried talking to him?’

‘A million times! And please don’t mention taking a holiday or booking in for couples counselling. Maybe it’s the 20-year itch, Helen, but over the years, the love I had for Mark has melted away.’

‘Right.’ I couldn’t really add anything to that.

‘I’ve moved out and found a nice flat near the river to rent,’ she told me.

Julie didn’t seem very teary or upset. But, I reasoned, if things had been simmering for a while, she would be relieved to make a new start.

After that bombshell hit, Vince began spending more time at work. This often happened when he was on a deadline, so I didn’t question it.

At weekends, he’d pop out to the pub — I assumed he was meeting Mark. The four of us had been pretty close, after all.

Childless by choice, we both had busy jobs. I was a graphic designer and Vince was in TV commercial production.

It sounded glamorous, yet it was a highly pressurised

career. He often worked late, he was shattered and I worried about him.

When I’d expressed my concerns, he’d waved a hand.

‘If I couldn’t handle it, love, I wouldn’t do it.’

Even so, I pondered. The advertising industry attracted a lot of bright, young graduates with new, fresh ideas. Were the company considering weeding out middle-aged employees on the verge of early retirement?

Maybe Vince wanted to ditch his career and take up a less demanding role. The mortgage was paid off, so we’d cope financially.

Then Vince took a weeklong golfing holiday with Mark. That reminded me — I hadn’t heard from Julie in a while.

I texted and she replied: We’ll meet up soon. I’m rushed off my feet at work! Take care.

Then the New York job came up. Vince hadn’t even told me that he’d applied for it.

When he’d finally fessed up, I was astounded.

‘So when you were with Mark on a golfing break — you were actually in the States at a job interview,’ I concluded.

‘It was a series of job interviews, Helen,’ he stated

He often worked late, he was shattered and I worried about him

proudly. ‘They certainly put me through my paces.’

My head whirled. He must have noticed my bewildered expression.

‘Look, love, I didn’t think I’d be offered it. There was no point telling you about it, when it was highly likely that I’d be turned down,’ he admitted.

I frowned.

‘What do you mean, there was no point in telling me?’

He shrugged. ‘I’ve told you why. Let’s not dwell on it. Let’s focus on the future.’

That wasn’t the loving, kind Vince I knew. He’d always involved me in the things we’d shared. Something had changed. I blinked back tears. Why had he lied to me and kept this secret?

He’d outlined his reasons, but I didn’t understand why he’d needed to bring Mark into it.

Anyway, Vince was clearly delighted.

‘You’re taking the job then?’ He grasped my hands.

‘It’s too good an opportunity to turn down.’

It seemed ambition still burnt bright for my 55-yearold husband.

So I brushed those niggling doubts aside.

We were starting an exciting new life in the USA, whether I was prepared for it or not!

‘Shall I hand my notice in today?’ I asked Vince the next morning at breakfast.

He was in a hurry, tension etched on his face.

‘Oh, you’ll need to hang on in the UK for a bit, Helen. It’s awkward, as I’m the person named on the work permit.’

‘I see.’

My spirit fell.

So for me, that wonderful adventure would be put on hold.

Well, I guess it wasn’t such a bad thing, I mused, when I was only just getting my head around it.

‘Oh you know what the States is like for red tape! You should be able to join me in around a month’s time. We’ll talk later.’

But, wrapped up in his plans, we didn’t talk later.

It was a horrid thing to admit to, but I had a strange suspicion that this job didn’t actually exist.

So while Vince was at work, I checked the details.

To my relief, it was all above board.

He prepared to fly out in a week’s time. The company had secured an apartment for him, and he was eager to go.

It was the apartment he’d always dreamt of — a glossy, hi-spec abode, with a wonderful view of Central Park.

When the day arrived for him to leave, he didn’t want me to drive him to the airport. When we hugged in the hall, I sobbed hard. He smiled sadly.

‘I’ll miss you.’

Hmm, I thought. Will you? A month later, I spotted Mark in the supermarket car park.

He strolled over while I was packing the boot. ‘Hello, Helen!’

I felt a bit ill at ease. Guilt pricked, because I hadn’t kept in touch with him after the divorce.

At the time, I’d assumed Vince had offered support.

‘Shopping for one, like me? I heard that you and Vince had split.’

‘Did you? Well, we haven’t actually split up as a couple,’ I said. He frowned.

‘Oh. But he’s in New York, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, that’s right. I’m just waiting for official paperwork to come through, in order for me to join him,’ I explained.

His face held a sympathetic, almost pitying, expression.

‘I hate to tell you this Helen, but he’s living with someone else.’

Before I could say anything in reply, the penny suddenly dropped.

A horrible, swirling sensation hit me when I realised who Vince was living with.

Julie.

I felt cold and sick.

Vince had been taking me for a fool all along.

‘I expect she fed you a lot of drivel about us being stuck in a rut and family duty. I discovered that she’d told everyone the same tale. When in reality, they were sneaking around behind our backs. It took me a long time to cotton on, Helen,’ he went on.

The hours holed up in his office — that’s when Vince had been seeing her on

It seemed ambition still burnt bright for my 55-year-old husband

the sly.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

‘I can see this news has come as a real shock to you. Do you fancy a coffee?’

Mark asked.

I looked over at the supermarket café.

It was Saturday. Through the window, I could see that it was crammed with noisy families.

It was hardly a suitable backdrop for an emotional, in-depth, shared ‘unfaithful spouses’ experience. I glanced at my watch. ‘Sorry, Mark, I have to get on.’

‘Where are you rushing off to?’

I thought quickly.

‘I’m popping round to my mum’s. If I’m late, she’ll worry.’

Six months later and I finally took Mum’s advice — I’m going out more.

I met a hunky, young, good-looking fella, Ben, at Mum’s am-dram group.

He’s a university student and when he mentioned that he was looking for accommodation, I offered him my spare room.

Meanwhile, Vince is nagging me to sell the house.

Apparently, the rent has shot up on his fancy New York flat and he can’t meet the cost, so he moved to a teeny, damp bedsit.

Julie only had a limited stay and couldn’t work there — you know what the

States is like for red tape!

As she ended up back in Blighty, the lovers went their separate ways.

But the house is in my name, and as Vince not only committed adultery, but chose to leave the marital home too, it doesn’t look good for him.

As for me — well, let’s just say that Ben didn’t remain my lodger for very long…