After dropping off his mistress, Mr. Butcher bid her a gentle goodbye and headed home.
He paused by the front door for a moment, silently rehearsing what he would say to his wife. With a steely resolve, he climbed the steps and unlocked the door.
Evening, he called out. Evelyn, are you home?
Of course, I am, came her unhurried reply from the lounge. Hello, love. Shall I put the cutlets on then?
Mr. Butcher promised himself hed be directbold, decisive, manly! It was time to put an end to his double life, while his mistresss kisses still lingered and before the monotony of married comfort pulled him under again.
Evelyn, he cleared his throat. Ive come to tell you… we need to go our separate ways.
Evelyn took the news in her usual calm way. In fact, it was almost impossible to provoke her. He used to tease her about it in the old days, calling her Cold Evelyn.
What do you mean? Evelyn asked, poking her head round the door. Should I not bother with the cutlets?
Up to you, said Butcher. Cook them if you wish, dont if youd rather not. Im leaving you for someone else.
Most wives, he thought, would be at his throat with a frying pan after such words, or at least throw a fit. Evelyn, as always, was unfazed.
Well, arent you a clever clogs, she said, almost bored. Did you pick up my boots from the cobblers?
No, Butcher admitted, suddenly flustered. If its that important, Ill nip out now and fetch them!
Oh, for heavens sake, Evelyn muttered. Typical you, Butcher. Ask you for boots and youd probably come back with slippers.
Butcher felt slighted. This break-up talk wasnt at all how hed imagined. Where was the shouting, the drama, the passion? But then, what did he expect from someone known as Cold Evelyn?
I just dont think youre listening! he complained. Im telling you plainly: Im leaving you for another woman. And all you care about are your boots.
Fair enough, Evelyn shrugged. Unlike me, your shoes arent at the cobblers, so you can walk off whenever you want.
Theyd been together for years, but Butcher still couldnt tell when she was joking and when she was serious. Honestly, it was her even temper, her dislike for drama, and her sensible, practical ways that first drew him to her. Not to mention her curvy figure and her knack for running the house.
Evelyn was as dependable and steady as a barges anchor. But now he loved someone new, with the intensity of sin and sweetness! It was time to dot the is and pack his bags for a new life.
And so, Evelyn, he said, with what he hoped was solemnity, I am grateful for everything, but I must leave you because I love another. I no longer love you.
Well, I never, Evelyn replied. Doesnt love me. My mum fancied our neighbour. Dad? He was in love with his dominoes and the pub. And look at meI turned out a treat.
Butcher knew there was no sense trying to argue with her. Every word she uttered was a rock. His original enthusiasm fizzled away, and he no longer felt like starting a row.
You are fantastic, Evelyn, he muttered, but I love another. Deeply, desperatelyirresistibly. I have to go, do you see?
Whos the lucky lady then? said Evelyn. Is it Nicole from number sixteen?
Butcher stumbled. Indeed, hed had a fling with Nicole last year, but didnt know Evelyn even knew her.
How do you…? he began, swallowing. Actually, no. Its not Nicole.
Evelyn yawned. So is it Samantha Burbage youre off to now?
Butchers spine ran cold. Hed had a thing with Samantha once, too. How did Evelyn know? Of course, she never let anything slip.
Nope, said Butcher. Not Samantha, not Nicole. Someone else entirelysomeone marvellous, the pinnacle of my dreams.
Must be Margaret then, Evelyn replied. Oh, Butcheryou and your secrets. The love of your life: Margaret Valentine. Thirty-five, one child, two near-misses… Sound familiar?
Butcher grabbed at his hair in dismay. Spot on! Margaret was, in fact, the one.
But how? Was someone spying for you? he spluttered.
Its elementary, Butcher, Evelyn said dryly. Im a GP, remember? After twenty years, Ive checked half the women in this town, and youve merely sampled a few. One look and I know where youve been, you pudding-head.
Butcher tried to regain composure.
Alright, so youve guessed, he said, as if undisturbed. Even if it is Margaret. Makes no differenceIm leaving.
Youre a fool, Evelyn said. You could at least have asked what I thought! Mind you, nothing special about Margaret. All much the same, medically speaking. And have you seen the record of your pinnacle of dreams?
N-no Butcher admitted.
There you go! First, go get yourself a good scrub. Then tomorrow, Ill ring Dr. Simmons and have you checked over at the clinic. After that, well talk. Honestlymy husband cant even pick a healthy woman!
What do you want me to do? Butcher whined.
Im off to fry the cutlets, said Evelyn. You get yourself washed and do what you like. And if you want a dream woman without any oddities, let me know. Ill set you up with one…
Today, I learned that sometimes the excitement of chasing dreams simply cant compare to the comfort of realityand that reliable love, while not always fiery, has a strength all its own.
