The Confession

'Okay,' she said finally. 'I'm going to go now. But can I call you again tonight?'

'Of course.'

'Good. Say hi to Tara for me.'

'I will.'

'Bye for now.'

'Goodbye, Becky.'

And Bryan held the phone to his ear and waited for her to end the call.

***

Becky tapped her phone off, put it in her pocket and gazed at the view. She was sitting on a bench under the canopy of a tree and before her were rows and rows of weathered gravestones, their dates-of-birth going back to the 1800s. But Becky's gaze went beyond the gravestones, to the old stone church that stood under a blue sky with white clouds--the same church she and Bryan had stood in only a few months' earlier when they retook their vows. It looked just as she remembered it--solid, strong, somehow impressive and unassuming simultaneously. Maybe it was just the fact that it had stood there for such a bloody long time that was impressive. Whatever the reason, the sight of it comforted her.

Becky would have preferred to be sitting inside, but the church was locked up. There would be a service tomorrow morning--it was Sunday of course--but Becky was reluctant to go. She wanted to figure out her own version of God, not join a bunch of people who already had their own ideas about Him.

'How are you feeling?' said the inner voice.

'I don't know,' said Becky to herself.

'Come on, try again.'

'Okay, I feel lots of things! Confused and angry. Happy and sad. I'm pissed off that the church is closed, but if it hadn't been closed, I wouldn't have called Bryan and it was good to hear his voice. But feeling good talking to him also confuses me, because aren't you supposed to hate and despise a man who cheats on you?'

'It's a puzzle, isn't it?'

'Damn right!'

Becky found herself thinking about the previous night and the conversation she had with Cathy. They had sat at the bar talking until past one in the morning and it was such a relief for Becky to unburden herself to another woman. Mind you, Cathy seemed genuinely interested in Becky's story. She and John had been together for just over a year, but they had no plans to get married and Cathy wasn't sure that she believed in marriage. She was curious to know why Becky had tied the knot with Bryan in the first place.

'To begin with,' Becky said, 'we were just caught up in the whole romantic dream. We met, we fell in love, and the dream's not complete until you get married, right? That's how it works in the movies.'

'Yeah,' said Cathy. 'But don't you have to be a bit naïve to think that's how it works in the real world?'

'I used to think that myself,' said Becky. 'But when it actually happens, when you meet a man who seems to get you and the conversations are great and the sex is out-of-this-world, well... you find yourself thinking: Maybe we'll be the ones who make that dream come true. Maybe we'll be the exception to the rule.'

'Sounds a bit egotistical to me.'

'Oh, ye-e-eah! Bryan and me have got massive egos! Bryan sees himself as this "Man of Truth". And I act like I'm God's gift to men.'

'Well, you are pretty tasty, you know.'

'Thank you!'

'I'm serious. If I were a man, I'd do you.'

Becky had laughed, her face going red, and she clinked the other woman's glass as a way of accepting the compliment. But now, as Becky sat under the tree remembering that moment, she began to wonder whether there was more going on under the surface. Cathy had a very direct manner and she didn't seem like the sort of person to say something without meaning it. Why hadn't Becky picked up on it at the time?

'Because Cathy was still asking questions,' said the inner voice.

That's right, thought Becky. Once she understood why Becky had got married, she wanted to know why she had stayed married.

'Well, Tara for one thing,' said Becky in response.

'Okay, so you had a kid,' said Cathy. 'But what else?'

'Well...'

And Becky had gone on to talk about her relationship with Bryan, how they had learned to communicate better, and how their love seemed to deepen the more they accepted that neither would ever be perfect or even a good person. But while Cathy was a good listener, she kept pushing the question, 'Yes, but what's marriage got to do with it?' Becky found it a difficult question to answer.

But as she sat pondering under the tree in the churchyard, Becky realised that she and Cathy had skipped over the topic of parenthood with only a mention. More than that, it felt natural to skip over it. It was as though marriage was the main event and having kids an optional extra. And for some people, it was. But when Becky thought about why she felt married to Bryan--not just 'in a relationship' or 'together' or 'a couple', but actually married--the answer was always the same.

It was because they chose to have a child together.

And now that Tara was here, Becky couldn't unchoose Bryan. Oh, she could divorce him, cut him out of Tara's life, never see him again... but Bryan would still be Tara's father. Becky could marry another man, get Tara to call him 'Daddy', and say to the world that the new guy was the real father... and Bryan would still be Tara's father. Becky could even attack the word 'father' itself, claim that it had no real meaning and that women should be free to do whatever they wanted in every situation... and Bryan would still be Tara's father.

Tara's parentage was as immutable and unchangeable as the stones of which the old church was built. She was literally made from her mother and father's DNA and although the people who built that church had no knowledge of DNA, they did believe in the importance of blood ties. They wouldn't have skipped the topic of parenthood. In fact, in those days, the creation of a family with children was the entire point of marriage. Whether the man and the woman made each other happy was secondary.

Looking at the church, Becky realised that this was the root of her inner conflict. As a woman, she absolutely believed she had the right--and maybe even a responsibility--to divorce Bryan for cheating. But as a mother, did she have the right to kick her child's father out of the family? Okay, if Bryan was dangerous or a drunk, the answer would be clear. But he wasn't either of these things. He was essentially a decent man and a great father who had had a one-time fuck with another woman. Yes, he shouldn't have done it. And yes, he should have owned up at some point before they retook their vows. But did his failure to do so justify kicking him out of the family? Becky saw that the mother-part of her had a very clear answer to that question: No.

And the woman-part of her was furious.

'If you had cheated,' it shrieked, 'he would have divorced you!'

'I know,' said the mother-part.

'So how is it fair that you won't divorce him?'

'I'm not being fair to him. I'm being fair to my daughter.'

'But that's not fair to me!' cried the woman-part.

'Perhaps, but you're a grown-up and Tara is a child. She needs her father.'

'But that's a violation of my rights!' cried the woman-part. 'My right to be happy! My right to be respected by my husband! My right to equality in the marriage!'

'How would equality work here?'

'If Bryan gets to fuck another woman, I should have the right to fuck another man!'

'And Tara?'

'This isn't about Tara! This is about me!'

'Yes, but--'

Becky groaned and leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. Her stomach was twisted into knots and the muscles of her neck and shoulders felt tight. Goodness, no wonder she felt torn up inside with that battle going on in her head.

The wind was picking up, shaking the leaves of the tree. Becky stood up and stretched her arms above her head. So much for peace and tranquillity. She began to head back to the car, but then realised that her inner shouting match would resume the moment she got in. So instead, she walked right past the car and headed for the hills.

***

It was past six in the evening when Becky arrived back at the Coach & Horses Inn. She walked through the reception area where John was checking in another couple and went straight up to her room. She took a shower, then changed into a dress and heels. Looking in the full-length wardrobe mirror, she wondered whether she was looking a little too feminine--she didn't want to be obvious. So she added a short denim jacket to cover her bare shoulders.

There was a second staircase which led down to the corridor leading to the bar, but Becky wanted John to see her, so she went back down the staircase which led to reception. Her luck was in. John was alone behind the desk. His eyes lit up when he saw her.

'Good evening!' he said. 'You're looking spectacular, if I may say so.'

'Thank you.'

'Are you off to dine in one of our little town's fine restaurants?'

'Actually, I thought I'd eat here.'

John's face turned serious.

'Um, you do know that our dining room is only open for breakfast?' he said.

'Yes, I do,' said Becky. 'But you have a menu in the bar, don't you?'

'It's not very extensive. Steak and kidney pie, chicken and chips... "pub grub", as they call it.'

'That'll do me just fine.'

Becky leaned on the reception desk and gave him a look of undisguised lust. If John had any doubts about whether this woman fancied him, that look in her eyes blew them away. Without breaking eye contact, he said:

'I understand that you and Cathy had quite a conversation last night?'

'We did,' said Becky.

'Well, it may interest you to know that Cathy and I had quite a conversation about you this morning.'

'Did you now?'

'Yes, we did.'

'May I inquire as to the nature of that conversation?'

John smiled. He leaned on the desk and looked Becky in the eye.

'One of the things Cathy and I found ourselves agreeing on,' he said, 'is how you are quite simply one of the most beautiful women to have ever walked through these doors.'

Becky's throat tightened. She had to look down at the desktop.

'Don't,' she said. 'You'll make me cry.'

'It's your husband who made you cry,' said John. 'And to be honest, Cathy and I are none too impressed with him.'

'Me neither.'

'Cathy thinks he ought to be taught a lesson.'

Becky raised her head slowly, until she was looking John in the eye again.

'What kind of lesson?' she said.

'Do you know the saying, "What's good for the goose is good for the gander"?'

'Yes.'

'That kind of lesson.'

Becky looked at John's tie as she turned this over in her mind.

'That's what Cathy thinks,' said Becky. 'What do you think?'

'What do I think?'

'Yes.'

There was another moment of silence. Then John took Becky's hand and lightly pressed his thumb into her palm. Becky's fingers closed around his hand automatically and suddenly she wanted him to fuck her so badly, it was almost painful. She had to close her eyes to stop herself offering her mouth up for a kiss. John leaned close and murmured into her ear.

'I think I would love to know you,' he said.

Becky felt herself go wet and for a few electric moments, she could feel her breathing, her heartbeat, her excitement. Then John let go her hand and moved away. Becky glanced down and saw evidence of a hard-on under his pants. God, this was making her horny.

'Go and have some dinner,' he said.

'I'm not hungry. Well...'

Becky stopped herself from saying it. But it was obvious she and John knew what was on the menu she was thinking about. He smiled and said:

'Cathy will be in the bar later. She wants to talk.'

'What's going on with the two of you?' said Becky.

'Let's just say, she owes me.'

Becky frowned, wanting to know more. But there were the sounds of a couple coming downstairs and Becky didn't want anyone to see her having a moment with another man. So she gave John a quick nod and walked off down the corridor, heading to the bar.

***

It was approaching nine o'clock in the evening. Bryan had put Tara to bed and he was now watching a movie in the living room. It was one he had seen a dozen times before, but as he was expecting a phone call, he wasn't in the mood for anything new. Even so, he found it hard to concentrate and when the phone finally rang and he saw his wife's name on the screen, his dominant emotion was relief.

'Hi there,' he said.

'Hello, Bryan.'

'What's wrong?'

'Um, why do you think--'

'I can hear it in your voice.'

There was silence on the phone. Bryan turned off the flatscreen and sat up. Every one of his senses was on high alert.

'Where are you?' he said.

'In my room.'

'Are you alone?'

'Of course I'm alone! Why would you even ask that?'

'Gut feeling. Intuition. If I'm barking up the wrong tree, please tell me. I'd love to be wrong about this.'

There was another silence. A silence that said more than a thousand words. Bryan felt his chest contract and he had to stand up and pace.

'Go on then,' he said. 'Give me the worst.'

'I haven't done anything, Bryan!'

'You haven't done anything... yet?'

Once more, there was a silence that spoke volumes. Finally, Becky just blew up.

'God damn you, Bryan!' she cried. 'God damn you!'

'Look, if I'm wrong--'

'Don't play fucking games! You know damn well you're not wrong!'

Bryan let out a sigh of something close to relief. He stood and looked at a framed picture on the wall. A random picture of a yacht that Becky had chosen for the house.

'What's he like?' said Bryan.

He heard a sigh of exasperation. But when Becky spoke, there was a note of resignation in her voice.

'He's nice,' she said. 'Good-looking, well-dressed. My guess is that his girlfriend cheated on him, so she's giving him a hall pass.'

'She knows about it?'

'Oh, yes. Last night, the two of us had a good talk.'

'Does she want a threesome?'

'I don't know, but anything's possible right now. It's kind of fucked up, but... I have to admit, it's very exciting.'

'I can imagine.'

'Yes, but you don't have to imagine, do you, Bryan? You already know how exciting it is to have sex with someone outside of the marriage.'

Bryan went quiet. He sat back down on the couch and rested his head on his free hand. He heard Becky clear her throat.

'Would you like to say something, Bryan?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Please don't do this.'

'You have no right to ask that!'

'I'm not claiming any rights! I'm asking... please don't do this.'

'Bryan...'

'Please don't do this, Becky.'

'Bryan! This is happening whether you like it or not!'

Bryan felt his entire chest go cold. It was the moment he had always dreaded and now it was happening. One of his deepest fears was being cuckolded by his wife and now it was a reality and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He sat back, trying to catch his breath.

'Bryan?' came the voice from the phone. 'Bryan, are you still there?'

'Yes,' said Bryan quietly. 'I'm still here.'

'You brought this on yourself!'

'Did I?'

'Yes, you did! You do understand that, don't you?'

'Not really, no.'

'Well, you'll have plenty of time to figure it out. I have to go now.'

'Becky...'

'Goodnight, Bryan.'

And the phone went dead.

***

Room three in the Coach & Horses Inn used to be one of the cheaper guest rooms back in the day, with three beds crammed into its low-ceilinged space. Today, there was only the double bed against the back wall, but it was still fairly cramped by modern standards. Despite that, its present occupant had used every inch of carpet space as she paced, turned and flung her hands around during her phone call.

Becky was deeply regretting her decision to call her husband. She had already decided to have sex with John and was even excited about it. Ironically, the only reason she called Bryan was because she'd told him earlier that she would and she didn't want him to get suspicious. The plan was to ask after Tara, reassure Bryan that she loved him--which she did--and say goodnight. Becky could then have her sexy adventure and go back to her marriage with the feeling that she had redressed the balance.

Well, that plan was now in tatters. Bryan and his fucking intuition had pulled the rug out from under her feet the moment she'd opened her mouth. Becky turned off her phone to prevent him calling back and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Part of her brain was shouting, 'You go, girl!' and yet seeing how beautiful she looked just made her feel sick. Getting together with John no longer felt like a sexy adventure... it felt like an act of revenge.

Becky put her phone into her string purse, left the room and headed for the stairs. Cathy had yet to put in an appearance and Becky was hoping that she might be in the bar by now. Maybe she was secretly hoping Cathy would change her mind so that Becky didn't have to make a decision. It seemed terribly unfair to Becky that the fate of her marriage seemed to lie in her hands, even though she had absolutely insisted on it.

The bar was busy, as you would expect on a Saturday night, with two barmen serving the drinks. No, three... there was Cathy, looking smart with her hair pulled back, coming out of the back with a couple of liquor bottles. Becky found a spot near one end of the bar and within seconds, a gin and tonic was placed before her. The service made her feel like a VIP.

Becky sat sipping her drink and doing everything she could to avoid eye contact with any number of men who were aiming glances in her direction. The last thing she wanted was to be chatted up by some stranger. But she needn't have worried. After a quick word with her staff, Cathy made her way to the customer side of the bar and plonked herself next to Becky. She looked her right in the eye and, for a moment, Becky thought the other woman was going to kiss her on the mouth.

'Hello, beautiful,' said Cathy.

'Hi there,' said Becky.

'You look fantastic. You do know that, don't you?'

'Thank you.'

Cathy waved to Jake to get her a drink. Then she leaned in close to Becky.

'Okay, here's the deal,' said Cathy. 'On the other side of the staircase from your room is a door marked "private". That leads to my apartment, here in this house. John finishes at ten, so he should be there after about quarter past. Just knock on the door.'

Becky took a long drink, the ice tinkling in the glass. Cathy smiled as Jake discreetly placed an identical glass in front of his boss, then disappeared off to serve another customer. Cathy leaned against Becky so that their shoulders were pressing against each other.

'You nervous?' said Cathy.

'A little.'

'You'll be fine. I probably won't finish work until after midnight, so you and John have plenty of time to get to know each other.'

'Why are you doing this, Cathy?'

'Not everyone believes in monogamy, Rebecca. One could even argue that we're sexual beings by nature and that trying to be monogamous is unnatural.'

'Are you saying that my husband did the right thing sleeping with this other woman?'

'No, I'm not saying that. If a man makes a promise, he should keep it. And if he doesn't keep his promise, why should you keep yours?'

Because I made my promise to God, thought Becky. But she didn't say that out loud; didn't want Cathy to think she was a religious nut. Becky felt Cathy's hand squeeze her thigh and then Cathy leaned in and kissed Becky on the cheek.

'I have to get back to work,' she said. 'But do whatever you want to do. Trust me, Rebecca. I want this to happen every bit as much as you do.'

Cathy hopped off her barstool and finished her drink in one go. Then she gave Becky a smile and headed back to her place behind the bar. Becky found herself watching the other woman in fascination. She was absolutely in charge of that place, like a queen with the two barmen who clearly adored her. Becky had never been with another woman before--had never even been interested--and yet now she couldn't get the thought out of her head. She imagined herself naked in Cathy's bed after being fucked by John and then hearing Cathy come home late. Becky would pretend to be asleep, but after a while she would feel a woman climb into bed behind her, feel naked legs against her legs, a new pair of hands on her body...