She's not there

She gazed intently at me. "I am so sorry Tony. I could have spoken out but, once I'd kept silent, I was committed. I was terrified that the whole house of cards would come crashing down if you found out what was happening. I won't ask for forgiveness, I probably don't deserve it, so this is all that I can do. To tell you what I know. Ask me anything you want but I think that I've told you everything."

I sat silently as they watched me reassess every part of my marriage. Eventually I spoke. "What about the others? Did they know?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Certainly we've never discussed it. Obviously, we all knew Carrie was keeping something from you when she asked us to cover for her; but about the kids? I don't think so." Margot stopped to think. "I'd been ill and was still on medication at the party, so I couldn't drink. I wish I'd never gone." Her tone convinced me she was sincere.

She carried on. "The rest of them, including Carrie, were absolutely hammered by then. Even if they'd heard our conversation, I doubt they'd remember anything the next morning." She looked earnestly at me. "I don't think that Carrie even remembers telling me."

We talked some more but Margot really had nothing else to offer. I accepted her apologies, of course. Why? Because Carrie was her friend, not me. Because she was correct, by the time she had found out about Amy's paternity I had bonded with my little girl. Because when Carrie fell pregnant again, Margot was already complicit by her silence. I had more trouble forgiving her for agreeing to provide Carrie with an alibi. Margot sat meekly as I explained, quietly, how I felt about that.

Lance intervened. "Margot won't defend herself; she's prepared to accept any blame you lay on her." He squeezed her hand again. They were obviously a tactile couple. The way that I thought my wife and I had been.

He continued. "Margot feels awful about keeping silent about what Carrie did all those years ago, but she was never actively party to any of it. She did agree to lie for Carrie but, when I asked her, last Thursday, if Carrie was at all of their Girls Nights, she admitted the truth without knowing that you'd already told me what you'd discovered."

We left, if not as close friends, on civil terms at least. I couldn't hate Margot for wanting to stay out of my car crash of a marriage. I spent the next couple of weeks in a daze. Claire was brilliant. She made sure that I ate lunch, she managed my workload and even invited me for dinner a couple of times with her and her partner, Gail. An email from SH:24 had reassured me that I was free from any STIs and, while that was a relief, I failed to feel any gratitude towards my wife for sparing me that indignity. It should never have been an issue.

Eventually, the DNA results came back and were consistent with Margot's story. But then, I knew that would be the case. I lost some sleep over sharing the results but both kids had to know why they had been asked to take the test. This wasn't something that I could just pretend never happened. What were the results? Amy and Bryan shared the same mother, but had different fathers. Neither of them was genetically related to me. Carrie never returned her sample; why would she? She knew what the outcome would be.

Amy was the elder at twenty two; my wife had been cheating on me for most of our marriage. My relationship with the kids was fragile for a while, I admit. We walked on eggshells around each other: me afraid they'd reject me as not their real dad; them afraid I'd hold them responsible for their mother's adultery.

A month after that awful Thursday, they came home from their different universities and we'd had a long talk to clear the air and reach an understanding. It was difficult for the three of us. Amy, as a woman, empathised with her mother's need to have a child though she baulked at the way Carrie had chosen to conceive. Bryan, the objective one was also torn. What his mother had done offended him at every level. Yet, had she not done it, neither he nor his sister would exist. He struggled to reconcile his feelings about that.

Regardless of the biology, they are my kids, I raised them and I love them both. Almost as much as I hate their mother.

That was eleven months ago. The divorce was almost clinical. I offered 70/30 and she accepted without a murmur. I don't know if the kids still speak to Carrie, they certainly know better than to mention her name in my presence. I also cut all contact with her family. A shame really, because I got on well with her mum.

Jamie's husband tried to reconcile but, even after counselling, he just couldn't look at his wife and see the woman he married. Their divorce was nastier but it's over now. Alison, like Margot, was able to convince her husband that she'd tried to get Carrie and Jamie to see sense but elected not to get involved beyond that. She remained adamant that, though she never volunteered anything about Carrie and Jamie's activities, if asked she'd have told the truth. She and her husband are still together, though he apparently insisted that she cut the 'two whores' from their circle.

Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. About eight months ago, I had called into a small cafe on the outskirts of town for my lunch. A cute young woman called Raquel served me. As she set my plate of egg and chips down in front of me she asked, just in conversation, if I'd heard about the recent mugging. Well, apparently a bloke from one of the flats across the road had been mugged and quite badly beaten by two men wearing pig masks. It seems that he was so badly affected that, on his release from hospital, he'd moved out. She didn't seem to miss him.

Dave McGregor and I still meet for drinks now and again. It turns out that his sister suspected her husband was planning to leave her so she decided to inveigle herself even deeper into her dad's will. Dave chuckled ruefully as he told me the tale. "The daft bitch thinks the auld man still owns the business. He's nae so dim as she thinks and he knows fine well what she's about. He's running her ragged and she'll still get nae more than she would have anyhow."

He shook his head sadly. "But she's lost my trust, and all for nothing." He paused and then made a toast. "To trust." We shared a knowing look as we raised our glasses.

So here I am, mid forties and the ultimate empty nester. Two kids at university and an ex wife who was last heard of living with her mother. My parents are both dead and my relationship with my ex's friends is, let's say, cool at best. Claire, from the office, says she has some single straight friends who would love to meet me. She rather spoiled the effect by claiming that not needing to worry about contraception and having a clean sexual health certificate made me something of a 'catch'. Still, that made me laugh so perhaps I'm finally on the mend.