Betrayal, Shock, and a Little Mystery
Natalie was just finishing up supper when there was a knock at the door.
“Odd,” she thought, “weve got a doorbell, and everyone we know uses it.” She opened the door to find a woman about her own age staring back at her.
“Good evening! Are you Natalie?” the stranger asked brightly.
“I am. And you are…?” Natalie replied, scanning her memory for a face that didnt register.
“Oh, weve never met. But Im rather well acquainted with your husband.”
“Olivers?”
“Ollies,” the woman corrected with a fond smile.
“Ah. Of course, Ollie,” Natalie sighed, unimpressed. “I shouldve guessed. Though, full disclosure, youre the first of his friends to turn up on my doorstep. Most just ring.”
“Im Helen,” the woman said, suddenly less confident. “The thing is”
“Oh, dont fret, Helen darling,” Natalie cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guessyou and Ollie are in love, and Im just an inconvenient obstacle?”
“How did you?”
“Because youre not the first,” Natalie shrugged. “Honestly, take him. Whats his excuse this time? That the kids are too young? That he cant abandon me in my hour of need?”
“No, nothing like that,” Helen said quickly. “I know your boys are grownuniversity students.”
“Right, then. Am I ill? Is he staying out of some noble sense of duty?” Natalie gestured at herself. “Clearly not.”
“No, he never mentioned that.”
“Ah. Did he claim his boss frowns on divorces? Because, newsflash, no one at his firm cares.”
“No, its” Helen hesitated. “He said we just had to wait until until your father passes.”
Natalie froze. Her father was in his late sixties, in excellent health, and showed no signs of departing this world anytime soon.
“You must be mistaken.”
“Oh no, Ollie was quite clear. Once Anthony Wilkinson is gone, hed leave you straightaway.”
“And why wait? Is he worried Dad will throttle him? Because I assure you, my father wouldnt bother.”
“Its not that. Ollie respects him. But he said once your fathers gone, youd move into his flat.”
“His what?!” Natalie laughed bitterly. “That flat was mine before we married! A gift from my grandmother, renovated with my parents moneyand Dad kept every receipt. Trust me, Im not going anywhere.”
Helen blinked. “But Ollie said the flat would go to him, and youd take the cottage, the car, the garage”
“Did he now?” Natalie crossed her arms. “So why didnt you wait for this grand inheritance before coming to me?”
Helen sighed. “Im not getting any younger. I dont care about flatswe can live at mine. I just want you to let him go.”
“Consider it done.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Natalie said smoothly. “I havent clung to him in years. Though Ill admit, I thought hed stopped his little adventures. My mistake.”
Helen brightened. “So youll really release him? Honestly?”
“Absolutely. In fact, you can take his things now.”
“Oh no, I couldnt carry them. Ollie can collect them when hes ready. Just promise you wont hold him back.”
“Dont worry, hell be free by tonight. Ill file for divorce tomorrow, and well split everything fairlythough the flat stays mine. Dads got the paperwork to prove it. But youve got your own place, so Ollie wont be homeless.”
Helen nodded. “He wont.”
“Im not worried. Ollie always lands on his feet.”
“Goodbye, Natalie.”
“Goodbye, Helen. Lets never do this again.”
As the door shut, Natalie set about packing Ollies belongings. No shouting, no scenesjust a few careful words later, and hed walk out on his own. Hed assume, as always, he could slink back whenever he pleased. But not this time.
*Wait for my father to die so he can have the flat? The audacity!* she fumed, folding shirts with sharp precision. *Years of turning a blind eye, and this is his grand scheme? Well, enjoy your new life, Ollie darling*
When Ollie returned from work, he noticed nothing amissexcept Natalie refusing to join him for supper. Not that he cared. A hearty meal, then off for his usual “evening stroll.”
“Darling, supper was lovely. Think Ill pop out for some air.”
*Oh, do pop off,* Natalie thought sweetly.
“Of course, dear. Very healthy at your age.”
“My what?!” Ollie bristled. He prided himself on being in his prime.
“Well, you *are* over fifty. Not exactly a spring chicken.”
“Excuse me?! Ive got years ahead of me!”
“Really? Because youve been sleeping in the spare room for a year. And Peterremember Peter?hes your age, and *he* certainly doesnt have any issues.”
“Who the hell is Peter?!”
“My point exactly,” Natalie sighed. “Memory going too? Shame. Run along nowclear your head. Well sort things out when youre back.”
“Sort what?! You pity me?!” Ollie spluttered. “A woman who thinks Im past it doesnt deserve me! Pack my thingsdont expect forgiveness!”
“Theyre already packed, sweetheart. Ring if I missed anything. Oh, and dont hold your breath waiting for Dad to kick the bucket.”
“Whats *that* got to do with anything?!”
“Nothing at all,” Natalie chirped. “Off you go!”
Ollie grabbed a suitcase and stormed out, straight to Helenswhere he was coddled and assured he was still *so* youthful. The divorce went smoothly: he got the car and garage; Natalie kept the cottage (which she promptly sold).
She and her father, Anthony, embarked on a grand tourLondon, Edinburgh, you name it. Anthony, spry as ever, had no plans to depart this world anytime soon.
Six months later, Helennow noticing Ollies unusually long “evening strolls”packed *his* bags and left them outside.
Ollie, undeterred, turned up at Natalies.
*So what if she thinks Im old? A spare rooms better than nothing,* he reasoned.
But the neighbours informed him she was off travellingagain.
With nowhere else to go, Ollie resigned himself to the garage.
*Could be worse. Running water, a little stove summers coming.*
Or there were always naive young things whod believe a silver fox like him still had it.
After all, he *was* in his prime.
