A Final Twist of the Knife

There were tears in her eye as Beverley told me that when Audrey said, good bye and ended the call, it sounded so final." Between her sobs she kept saying. "I really didn't know anything about it."

By now I was just staring at her, nearly in tears myself. I was also terribly hurt that my wife had phoned Beverley and not me.

The final shock was when Beverley told me that I would be served with divorce papers, here at home on Monday evening.

Because I was so devastated when she told me that, Beverley stayed with me for over an hour. Finally, I gathered the courage to ask her about Stephen.

"He's really a very nice man, always very courteous," she told me. "I also know he owned a very successful accountancy business."

'Oh, come on Beverly," I was annoyed with her answer. "You can tell me more than that. You've been fucking him for years, so come on, tell me what's so special about him?"

She stared at me for a moment. "Gordon, I'm a size queen, if you know what that means? Have been ever since I met Travis. Stephen is only a bit above average but it's the way he uses what he's got. Apart from Travis, he always gave me the best fucks I've ever had."

"What do you mean always gave you?"

"It been nearly five months since I last saw him," she said. Then I saw her realised what that

implied.

"That's soon after Audrey told you she started seeing him." Her look confirmed it.

Before Beverley left I had some idea that it was not just because Stephen was coloured that had attracted my wife to him. I also remembered something I had long forgotten. My concern when I saw them holding hands when that lift doors opened.

After she stood up to leave, Beverley delved into her hand bag. "Audrey sent me this to give you, it only arrived today in another envelope." She handed me a white envelope with just my name written on it in my wife's hand.

Now alone, I propped the letter against the fruit dish in the middle of the kitchen table and just stared at it. Was it going to be a diatribe of my failings or chapter and verse of her reasons for leaving me.

It was still there when I left for work on Monday and when I came home with a McDonalds I stared at it the whole time I was eating. Just as I chucked the trash in the bin the doorbell rang.

It was only when the man asked me to confirm my name that I remembered that Beverley had told me that I would be served with divorce papers this evening. When he handed the brown envelope to me and said. "You have been served," it sounded so final. Like, you have been found guilty.

When the door closed I slowly retreated beck into the kitchen. Now I had a problem, which

envelope do I open first. I stood them beside each other and wandered over to the cupboard where we kept the drinks. Then I realised what I'd just thought, there was no we, anymore. With an almost full glass of my favourite malt whisky I again sat and stared to the two enveloped.

The glass was nearly empty when I reached for the white envelope with Gordon, boldly written on it in my wife's hand. Slowly I turned it over and was about to slit it open with a finger as I usually did. Then I stopped when I realised this was the first and probably the only letter that my wife would ever write to me. It needed to be looked after so I found a suitable knife in the cutlery draw.

Taking it slowly and carefully I slit the letter open. After a moment of contemplation, I withdrew the letter and slowly opened it. Fearfully, I started reading.

Dear Gordon, I will always love you. Was hand written at the top of an ordinary piece of A4 paper. Then on the next line Audrey had continued.

I am now, 'in love', with another man and must leave you for him. His name is Stephen, the black man I spent my first night with.

I think I read it three time, each time pausing where she had put asterisks around, in love, before reading her next sentence.

You have been a wonderful husband, lover and friend to me for over fifteen years, and I will always remember you with great fondness. Now, for many different reasons, another man has taken your place in my heart, and my life.

I have no wish to hurt you any more than I know you already are after Beverley's visit, so I will not be sharing my reasons with you.

My sincerest wish is that you will also remember me with equal fondness and eventually find someone who will give you the joy that I have now found with Stephen.

It was signed. Very sincerely, Audrey.

After I'd read Audrey's letter again and then again, I laid it down in front of me. My mind was a complete confusion of thoughts as I hesitantly reached for the brown envelope. I think I was hoping for some understanding.

Instead, all I read was legal mumbo-jumbo about a petition for divorce on the grounds of incompatibility. I never thought my wife and I had ever been incompatible.

There was a headed covering letter asking me to sign where all the crosses were and either bring it to the offices of Donaldson and Henderson as soon as possible, unless I wished to consult with my own solicitor.

I knew my solicitor personally so making an appointment was quite quick. When we met and I told him the reason for our meeting he asked if I had any responsibility for Audrey having me served.

"No, the responsibility, as you put it, is entirely my wife's, though I would rather not discuss her reason."

Without saying anything, he gave me a very concerned look when I handed the brown envelope to him. I watched his face as he read through the divorce document, then held his gaze when he looked up at me.

"Gordon, the grounds of incompatibility are quite normal and don't really imply anything. It would appear that your wife want's nothing from you, no alimony, no part of your pension, no share of your investments or anything from your property except for her personal possessions as listed, which you are asked to have delivered to her solicitors offices."

He then looked at me for a moment. "Gordon, I have known you long before you married Audrey, and both of you since then. What happened?"

Though embarrassed by its content, I handed him the envelope with my wife's letter in it. I noticed he only read her letter once before putting it back in the envelope and handing it back to me with a very sad look in his eyes.

"Well, that explains everything. I would suggest you sign the papers and hand them to her solicitor, together with her personal possessions, as soon as possible."

"How long will the divorce take?" I asked.

"Uncontested like this, about three months."

It took me two days and several more readings of Audrey's letter before I signed the divorce documents. I knew it was something I had to do, but two things held me up.

The first was trying to understand the pain and disappointment I felt at the thought of no longer being able to reclaim my wife and hear about her occasional liaisons.

Much, much worse was the sheer finality of ending my marriage to the woman I still loved deeply.

When I handed the signed divorce documents to her solicitor, he gave me another letter, in another white envelope with my name on it, written in her hand.

I took it home and read it with a half glass of whisky. This letter was written on her solicitors headed paper, which seemed to add a formality to it. As I read her words it was as though my wife gave a final twist of the knife she had put in me earlier.

Dear Gordon, now that you have signed the divorce papers and returned them to my lawyer, there will be no more contact between you and me. Please do not waste any of your time or money trying to locate us because we have moved a long way from your part of the world. Goodbye my love, Audrey. I read it again, finding the words, us and we, the most difficult to read.

Despite the efforts of my family, Beverley and my many friends, it was well over three months before I overcame the devastating effect that second letter had on me.

I asked Beverly and my wife's family and friends it they knew anything about her whereabouts. Not one has heard anything from her. Obviously, her parents were the most concerned so I allowed them to read both of her letters. When they questioned me about Stephen, all I told them were some of the some of the things Beverley had told me about him.

The only comfort I have is knowing that like me, my wife is independently wealthy and also, so it seemed was the man who has taken my place.

It's now been five years since our divorce was final and every year, on the anniversary of the day Beverley gave it to me, with a full glass of my best whisky, I read and re-read Audrey's first letter. The second one, which I've never read again, I also keep in my safe with the divorce papers.

I still don't understand how, after fifteen years of marriage, the woman I thought loved me as much as I loved her could just disappear with another man without first talking to me about it.

Despite everything, I have survived and prospered while friends and family have unsuccessfully tried many times to fix me up with another woman. I just don't seem to have any interest. Probably because I harbour a fading hope that the woman I still love will eventually seek to give me some sort of closure, even if is a just a letter telling me she is still happy with the choice she made.