The Infidelity Diaries by Anonymous

Author:Anonymous [Anonymous, ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2015-04-22T16:00:00+00:00

Two hours later I pulled up in Drew’s car in Warwick Avenue, not quite opposite the white stucco-fronted period building that once contained three large apartments but which, the name by the doorbell told me, now belonged entirely to just one person—Amanda Kirby, 36, divorced. Correction: Amanda Kirby, 36, Very Rich Divorcee—she had clearly divorced well if she could afford this entire building in this extremely wealthy part of London. Will’s car was still outside and I could see slivers of light whispering through the shutters that the Very Rich Divorcee had closed over the windows.

I had stopped a few streets away to put the hijab on, and now I put the back of my seat down so I could see VRD’s door without being too visible to passersby. I positioned the rearview mirror so I could also keep an eye on what was happening behind me, in case the pair had gone out for a post-prandial drink or dinner.

Then I waited. It was very boring. How did tabloid hacks manage to do this, I wondered. Doing nothing but stare at a front door for hour after hour. No wonder they’d started hacking phones instead. Much faster, and probably more fun.

Shadows passed by me—people pouring out of the tube station on their way home from work, couples going to the Red Pepper restaurant or the Prince Alfred pub. I was suddenly certain that I would find Will at the Prince Alfred, famous for the private little ‘snugs’ which had allowed unfaithful gentlemen of the late nineteenth century to entertain their mistresses unseen by polite society or suspicious wives. When I first took Will to the pub and told him its history, he’d pretended indifference, but I knew he would enjoy taking a mistress there and referencing his faithless predecessors.

I locked the car and started up Formosa Street. But, as I got to the Red Pepper, Will came around the corner, holding the hand of a small, quite dumpy blonde with a chemically enhanced mouth painted bright scarlet and oscillating hips that would have been seductive if she had been about three stone lighter.

He would hate that, I thought. Will hated garish makeup and overt sexual promise; he preferred catching tantalising glimpses of a woman’s sensuality, like slivers of light from behind the shutters.

They brushed past me. Will offered a glance of negligible curiosity, the woman no glance at all—she was too busy shaping her mouth into a perfect bow.

I stood in the doorway of a shop selling country furniture and watched them go into VRD’s house. I knew I would have to stay until Will left, or at least for several hours more, to prove to myself that this was more than just a passing visit.

As I slid back down in my car seat, my phone went off, twice. Two messages.

The first was from Will. ‘Back home tomorrow,’ it read. ‘So sorry I hurt you. Can we talk?’

So he would be staying the night with VRD. I didn’t text back.

The second message was from Claire.

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