A Simple Conversation 02: Deborah

This one is only a shorty, 1,900 words. No sex, sorry, and it is mostly dialogue.

My thanks to CTC, once again, for the ideas and edit.

There is no twist, just a different way of presenting things.

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THE SCENE: Dave Brown is sitting at the kitchen table. It is Sunday evening and his wife, Deborah, has just walked in, carrying a small suitcase. They have been married for five years and are currently childless but aim to rectify that in the very near future.

"There you are, Dave. Wendy said to say hi. She was going to come in but wanted to get home to Mick. When you didn't meet me at the door, I thought you mustn't be here."

Seeing her husband's despondent demeanour, Deborah took another step toward him. "Dave? My god, what's wrong?"

Dave remained looking down at the table but spoke quietly.

"I've been sitting here since Mick rang me, asking myself the same question, Deb. What is wrong? What did I do wrong?"

"What on earth are you talking about, Dave? What did Mick say on the phone?"

"Well, let's just say that Wendy is in for a rude shock when she arrives home. Or should I say, her former home. She'll find her key doesn't work, her bank cards don't work, and all her stuff in garbage bags on the front porch."

Deb pulled out a chair and sat down heavily before she fainted. Dave remained silent.

"Oh god. He found out, didn't he?"

"Yes, the P.I. emailed him photos from your suite in Sydney, taken this weekend. He said they were pretty graphic. What was his name? Pete?"

Deb reached into her purse and grabbed her phone.

"Christ, I have to warn her."

Dave grabbed the phone out of her hand and threw it into a corner of the kitchen floor. It skidded across the tiles before hitting the cupboard under the sink. Deb looked from the phone to her husband and back again in bemusement. He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. The look in his eyes was alien to her. His voice, when he spoke, was tense and clipped.

"The only fucking reason the locks haven't been fucking changed on our house is that the hardware store was fucking closed after I got off the phone to Mick."

Deborah was confused. So many shocks were coming at once, she couldn't process them all. Then a dawning, horrible thought seeped into her consciousness.

"Oh my god. You think I was messing around on you as well, don't you?"

"Are you really going to say that even though your best friend was screwing her lover all weekend, in a hotel in Sydney, you were just up there to see the sights and go to that musical you said you went up there to supposedly see. Is that your defence?"

"Of course, Dave. I would never cheat on you."

"And I suppose you'll also say that on all your other trips with Wendy - Melbourne two months ago, Ayers Rock last year, Darwin before that, you just took in the sights?"

"I did, honestly, Dave. Yes, I knew all those trips were for Wendy to fool around, but you have to believe me, I didn't do anything that a wife shouldn't do."

"Except protect your husband's friend from a cheating slut wife."

A pregnant silence settled between the couple, where usually friendly banter came easily. Deb felt shameful. Dave was right; both Wendy and Mick were their friends. She'd covered one to backstab the other. The silence dragged on. Finally, Dave looked at his wife for the second time.

"Prove it."

"Prove what, Dave?"

"Prove that while your best friend was getting laid in one room of your suite, you were alone in yours."

"I was alone, Dave. All weekend."

Deb thought back to how the weekend had passed. She resented having to do this. Dave should know her well enough to believe her without proof.

"Well, after we arrived Friday afternoon, Pete met us at the airport and we checked into our suite. I walked to the monorail station and went to Darling Harbour. I had dinner at a small café overlooking the basin. If we jump online, you'll see I paid for only the one meal."

"You could have gone dutch with your boyfriend."

"Honestly, Dave! I went back and had an early night. I was asleep before Wendy and Pete got back from wherever. Saturday morning, I caught the train into the city and a ferry across to Manly, then walked to Manly Beach. On the way back, I spent a couple of hours at Taronga Zoo. Wendy wasn't there when I got back to the hotel. I showered, dressed, and went to the show. I can describe any of those to you if you like."

"Nothing you couldn't learn from Google, I suspect."

Deb was getting really annoyed with all this. She was innocent and Dave should know that automatically.

"Well, I can prove I went to the show."

At this point, Deb retrieved her phone from the floor, annoyed at the cracked screen, and scrolled through the photos. Finding the one she was looking for she turned the phone around to face her husband. He looked and saw a smiling Deb, standing in an auditorium, with a stage behind her.

"See; I told you I had seventh row seats, right in the middle."

"Who took the photo, Deb?"

Debra turned the screen towards herself and looked at the photo again.

"The girl I asked to take it. She was sitting in the row behind me."

Dave didn't react as Deb thought he would. Instead of looking shamefaced, he looked unmoved.

Annoyed, she scrolled through all the photos she took over the course of the weekend.

"Here, then. What about this one taken on the Manly Ferry. It's clearly a selfie. See, there's a bit of my arm holding the phone."

Dave barely glanced at the phone. He shrugged. "So what? That might be you covering your ass just in case I got suspicious."

Deb lapsed into silence as she realised she could never prove her story. She thought about the rest of the weekend. The two-hour wait for a cab after the show; her judging the train too dangerous for a woman on her own at night. Getting back to the hotel and tuning out the sounds of Wendy and Pete going for it, loudly. Her walking around the Opera House and the Domain, the water taxi ride out to Fort Denison that day. Even with the photos on her phone, none of it was provable. Not that she did it all alone, anyhow.

For the first time, she realised that even with her behaving herself, it was damaging to her marriage. She thought desperately how she could show her faithfulness to Dave.

"I know! You said that Mick hired a P.I. Get the report off him. It will show I never brought anyone back to the hotel with me."

Deb sighed with relief at that logic. She was impatient to ring Wendy and either warn her what to expect when she got home or offer a shoulder to cry on. Dave's words dragged her back to the here and now.

"Mick did send me the P.I. report and I have read it. They were there to spy on Wendy, so any mention of you was incidental. Just times you left the hotel and times you came back. It does say you were alone every time, but how do I know you didn't go somewhere else to fuck your lover? It said you left the hotel at five on Saturday night but didn't get back till after one in the morning. It says you left again before ten this morning and returned in time to pack and get back to the airport. Prove to me what you were alone during all those times."

Deb realised she couldn't and never would be able to. That didn't stop her remaining silent while she tried, though.

"And even if you could prove you didn't meet someone in Sydney, what about Melbourne and the other trips. Were you alone on this one because your lover couldn't get away this time?"

Deb was getting frustratingly annoyed.

"Well, you're just going to have to trust my word, aren't you, Dave. You know that thing that couples do?"

"Couples who don't lie to each other you mean?"

"Yes. Hang on; are you saying you think I lied to you?"

"Well, I can't prove you lied in the last two minutes, but there were whoppers before that."

"Such as?"

"For example, you just told me you had seventh row SEATS at the musical, then went on to claim you went on your own. Which is it, dear? You either had 'seats' multiple and went with someone else or went alone and lied about having more than one seat."

"I... I..."

"And then there's every time you came back from one of your trips with Wendy. For the next week it was 'Wendy and I did this' and 'Wendy and I saw that', all lies.

Deborah sat there dumbstruck. They were just little porkies.

"Catching you in one lie means you're capable of something I didn't think you were. It also means I can never believe anything you say ever again. Even if you haven't been hit with the Martian Slut Ray Gun like Wendy yet, it's only a matter of time till you meet someone and all of a sudden, she's covering for you. You displayed your morals loud and clear when you knowingly covered up her behaviour. You let her use you for an alibi to fuck around. That says to me you condoned it. That you don't have any moral or ethical problem with what she's done to her husband, our friend.

"The simple fact is, Deb, I don't trust you anymore. There are those, I suppose, that can continue a successful marriage without trust, but I choose not to be one of them."

"What are you trying to say, Dave."

"I've thought long and hard about this, Deb. I want a divorce."

EPILOGUE

The divorce was slowed only slightly by Deb not co-operating. It took weeks for her to accept that Dave was even serious about it.

The day the final decree was made, she still didn't understand what she'd done to cause the chronic overreaction.

Dave was a true friend to Mick during the angry times ahead and they emerged firmer friends than ever. Mick was worried that Dave would blame him for being the bearer of the bad tidings, but Dave reassured him he'd done exactly what a friend should. They were popular double dates in the singles scene and married twin sisters two years later.

Wendy and Deb didn't fare so well.

Wendy left their small town when the fourth old lady spat on her and called her a slut. Deb left town six months later; heartily sick of having to explain to all and sundry that she hadn't cheated on Dave but seeing in their eyes they didn't believe her.

She made the mistake of trying to date in the town once the divorce was final. After the third serious prospect dumped her after she put out the first time, she took the hint and left, still bemused as to why her life had turned to such shit in such a short space of time.

THE END

Now lighten the fuck up.

I WAS DRINKING AT A BAR SO I TOOK A BUS HOME.

THAT MAY NOT SEEM LIKE A BIG DEAL TO YOU,

BUT I'VE NEVER DRIVEN A BUS BEFORE.