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that. Then he couldn’t cope with an affair I had before we got married, and then—well, he couldn’t cope with an affair I had while we were married, and then he just couldn’t cope.’

      Pierce—‘Sounds as though you both couldn’t cope.

      But if you didn’t have sex, how come you had Ben?’

      Sarah—‘A one-off. A wonderful one-off on holiday.’

      Pierce—‘How did he find out about the affair? Did you tell him?’

      Sarah—‘Told him on our honeymoon.’

      Pierce—‘Not the best way to start a marriage.’

      Sarah—‘I know. I know. I know. And then I had an-other affair with a journalist, two years ago, when I was away travelling.’

      Pierce—‘And you told him about that, too?’

      Sarah—‘No, he found that one out. Reading my e-mail.’

      Pierce—‘So that broke him?’

      Sarah—‘Yes, I suppose it did.’

      Pierce—‘Very sad, then, isn’t it? For Ben?’

      Sarah—‘Yes. But I’ve said sorry, and Paul said at the time he forgave me, and that was years back and now this. Now a new woman and he wants out.’

      Pierce—‘Well, I understand why he wants out. But I also understand why you had the affairs. No one can live in a completely sexless relationship. Not as far as I’m concerned. I couldn’t. But you need to protect yourself, Sarah. And Ben. Get a solicitor and listen to what she says. Paul’s a nice guy, but he shouldn’t have suggested you leave the house. Especially not with Ben. He’s got to be fair. I gave Jane £300,000 as part of the settlement, and we were married for only a year. Plus, we don’t have children. You have Ben, and he needs to be looked after, and then there is your future. You won’t be able to work as much when he’s at school. Won’t be able to travel as much. So you’ll have to change or give up your career. There’s lots to think about.’

      Sarah—‘I know. I know. I wake up in cold sweats a lot these days. And my feelings for Paul change by the minute. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and think I love him. Then I hate him. Then I love him. Then I hate him. Then I love him. It’s freaky. But Jane tells me this is natural, and will get better as time goes on.’

      Pierce—‘Yes, it will. Jane told me she used to play one particular song at full blast in her car when we were breaking up. You know the one about hating someone so much? It worked for her. You’ll get your own theme tune.’

      Sarah—‘Yeah, I have loads of songs. But the ones I’m playing at the moment are mostly by David Gray and Dido.’

      Pierce—‘Real wrist-slitters, then. Try to listen to something more upbeat.’

      Sarah—‘Such as?’

      Pierce—‘ “I Will Survive”—Gloria Gaynor. “Stronger”—Sugababes. “My Way”—Frank Sinatra. “I’m Not in Love”—10CC. That sort of thing. Nothing about heartache. Or one-night stands.’

      Sarah—‘Thanks.’

      Pierce—‘Have you given yourself a break recently?’

      Sarah—‘No—been looking after Ben. He’s not been well. And there’s plenty of work, which is good. Because it’s something else to focus on.’

      Pierce—‘Jane says you’re thin and need fattening up.’

      Sarah—‘So I’m told.’

      Pierce—‘Fancy dinner? Have you been taken to dinner lately?’

      Sarah—‘Paul took Ben and me to Pizza Express two weeks ago.’

      Pierce—‘And you haven’t been out since then?’

      Sarah—‘No. I’ve been looking after Ben. I think right now he needs to see one of his parents, if not both. And I need friends right now.’

      Pierce—‘I could do this Friday night. Can you get a babysitter?’

      Sarah—‘Yes. Tina can do it.’

      Pierce—‘The Waterhole Restaurant, round your way. Is that okay?’

      Sarah—‘Fine. Upstairs is posh; downstairs bistro.’

      Pierce—‘Think you deserve posh. Book upstairs. Say about seven?’

      Sarah—‘Fine—and thank you, Pierce. I’m not a bad person. I’ve just made bad decisions.’

      Pierce—‘We all have. It’s part of life. But you can’t change the way someone feels, and Paul feels very angry at the moment. You’ve just got to let him chill. He may see reason eventually. But it will take some time.’

      Sarah—‘I can’t change the way I feel either, Pierce. And I still love him.’

      Pierce—‘Perhaps. Perhaps you only want what you haven’t got. You sound as though you need a hug.’

      Sarah—‘I do.’

      Pierce—‘See you Friday, then.’

      Sarah—‘Okay. Bye.’

      Click.

      Paul isn’t coming home before midnight each weekday. And he never returns home on a Friday, usually arriving about three in the afternoon on Saturday to take Ben to the park for an hour or two. I don’t know if he’s with the girl or with the boys. I’m finding more receipts in his pockets. He is completely useless at hiding his trail. But perhaps he wants me to find them. Anyway, I am finding them. Lots of restaurant receipts. An eclectic mix. Thai, Indian, French, a few Italian, lots of sushi bars and Tuffnells once a week. Must be their favourite. I’m trying to work out if she’s a vegetarian. Think so. She likes chardonnay. Feel a bit like Miss Marple. Don’t think she’s a drinker. Well, not when she’s with him any-way. No champagne on the list ever, so perhaps she’s not that special. Or perhaps he pays with cash. The heartbreaking receipts are the hotels. When I see a receipt saying how many guests to a room.

      And then there’s the extras. The videos they send up for. The receipts list if they ordered room service or videos, but not what videos they were. Wonder if they were pornographic. Or funny. Or romantic. Wonder if he’s made her watch Highlander I, II and III, like he made me watch them when I first met him. Hope so. Serve her right.

      Then there’s usually a cinema receipt or two a week. I can tell if he’s seen a film with her already. He always makes a comment.

      Paul—‘One of my friends said they enjoyed this.’

      Or:

      Paul—‘One of my friends said they didn’t think much of this. Found it boring.’

      Or, worse:

      Paul—‘I know someone who would really enjoy this film.’

      When have any of his friends ever been one of his friends?

      When did Paul start to have nameless friends?

      It’s Friday already. Six p.m. Time has no meaning at the moment. Probably why I’m on time or early these days.

      Babysitter has arrived. Tina is busy running around after Ben. Getting him bathed, bedtime story then lights out. Kiss for Mummy. Then night-night. Thankfully Ben seems not to notice Daddy hasn’t been about much these days. Occasionally he asks where Daddy is, but he spends most days in the nursery, and I keep him busy with games and fun in the evenings.

      I’ve briefed the staff at the nursery about what I’ve come to call the situation at home. Sat down with the principal nursery nurse for half an hour, managing not to cry. She reassured me divorce and separation are becoming the norm, not the exception. There are four other

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