Luke lied to me. He’s somewhere else. With someone else.
The glitzy light and noise of the awards ceremony is jarring my nerves, and I jab the TV off. For a moment I just stare blankly, in silence — then, in a daze, I reach for the phone and find myself dialing Mum’s number. I need to talk to someone.
“Hello?” As soon as I hear her safe, familiar voice, I want to burst into tears.
“Mum, it’s Becky.”
“Becky! How are you, love? How’s the baby? Kicking away?”
“The baby’s fine.” I touch my bump automatically. “But I’ve got…a…a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Mum sounds perturbed. “Becky, it’s not those people from MasterCard again?”
“No! It’s…personal.”
“Personal?”
“I…it’s…” I bite my lip, suddenly wishing I’d thought before phoning. I can’t tell Mum what’s wrong. I can’t get her all worried. Not after she warned me about exactly this happening.
Maybe I can ask her advice without giving away the truth. Like when people write to advice columnists about their “friend” and it was really them who got caught wearing their wife’s swimwear.
“It’s a…a colleague at work,” I begin, my voice faltering. “I think she’s planning to…to move to a different department. She’s been talking to them behind my back and having lunches with them, and I’ve just found out she’s lied to me….” A teartrickles down my cheek. “Do you have any advice?”
“Of course I’ve got some advice!” says Mum cheerfully. “Love, she’s only a colleague! They come and go. You’ll have forgotten all about her in a few weeks’ time and moved on to someone else!”
“Right,” I say after a pause.
To be honest, that wasn’t the hugest help.
“Now,” Mum is saying. “Have you got a diaper holder yet? Because I saw a super one in John Lewis—”
“The thing is, Mum…” I make another attempt. “The thing is, I really like this colleague. And I can’t tell if she’s seeing these other people behind my back….”
“Darling, who is this friend?” Mum sounds perplexed. “Have you ever mentioned her before?”
“She’s just…someone I click with. We have fun, and we’re having a…a joint project…and, you know, it felt like it was really working. I thought we were so happy together….” There’s a huge lump in my throat. “I can’t bear to lose her.”
“You won’t lose her!” says Mum, laughing. “Even if she leaves you for another department, you can still have the odd coffee together—”
“The odd coffee together?” My voice shoots out in distress. “What good is the odd coffee together?”
Tears start running down my face at the thought of me and Luke stiffly meeting for the odd coffee, while Venetia sits drumming her nails in the corner.
“Becky?” exclaims Mum in alarm. “Sweetheart? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I snuffle, rubbing my face. “It’s just a bit…upsetting.”
“Is this girl really that important to you?” Mum is clearly baffled. I can hear Dad in the background, saying “What’s wrong?” and there’s a rustling as Mum turns away from the phone.
“It’s Becky,” I can hear her saying, sotto voce. “I think she’s a bit hormonal, poor love….”
Honestly, I am not hormonal. My husband is having an affair.
“Becky, now listen.” Mum is back on the line. “Have you talked to your friend about this? Have you asked her straight-out whether she’s planning to move departments? Are you even sure you’ve got your facts straight?”
There’s silence as I try to imagine confronting Luke when he comes home tonight. Calling him on his lie. What if he blusters and tries to pretend he was at the awards ceremony? What if he says he loves Venetia and he’s leaving me for her?
Either way, I feel totally sick at the prospect.
“It isn’t easy,” I say at last.
“Oh, Becky.” Mum sighs. “You’ve never been the best at facing up to things, have you?”
“No.” I scuff my foot on the carpet. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“You’re grown-up now, love,” says Mum gently. “You have to confront your problems. You know what you have to do.”
“You’re right.” I give a huge sigh, feeling some of the tension leave my body. “Thanks, Mum.”
“You take care, darling. Don’t let yourself get upset. Dad sends his love too.”
“See you soon, Mum. Bye. And thanks.”
I switch off the phone with a new resolve. It just shows, mothers do know best. Mum’s made me see this whole thing clearly for the first time. I’ve decided exactly what I’m going to do.
I’m going to hire a private detective.
FACULTY OF CLASSICS
OXFORD UNIVERSITY
OXFORD OX1 6TH
Mrs R Brandon 37 Maida Vale Mansions Maida Vale
London NW6 0YF
3 November 2003
Dear Mrs. Brandon,
Thank you for your telephone message, which my secretary relayed to me as best she could.
I am very sorry to hear your husband may be “having an affair in Latin,” as you put it. I can understand how anxious you must feel and will be pleased to translate any text messages you send me. I do hope this will prove illuminating.
Yours sincerely,
Edmund Fortescue
Professor of Classics
P.S. Incidentally, “Latin lover” is not generally taken to mean someone who talks to their lover in Latin; I do hope this is of some reassurance to you.
Denny and George
44 FLORAL STREET
Mrs R Brandon 37 Maida Vale Mansions Maida Vale
London NW6 0YF
4 November 2003
Dear Rebecca,
Thank you for your letter. I am sorry to hear you have fallen out with your obstetrician.
We are touched that you have had so many happy times in here and feel it is “the perfect place to bring a baby into the world.” However, I’m afraid we cannot convert our shop into a temporary birthing suite, even for an old and valued customer.
We appreciate your offer to name the baby “Denny George Brandon”; however, I’m afraid this does not alter our decision.
Good luck with the birth.
