The Girlfriend

Four

"Mandy?"

Mindy had only just woken up when I knocked on her door. It was a new-build house on a little estate tucked away behind our park. She'd kept it after the breakup and now just her and Adam lived there. She opened the door hurriedly at my incessant ringing, still pulling on her dressing gown. Anyone passing by at just that moment would have gained a glimpse of bare boob as she pushed an arm into the sleeve.

"What's wrong?"

She ushered me in and took me through to the living room with her arm around me.

"It's Ray." I said through struggling breaths as I fought to control myself.

"I caught him with someone."

I didn't need to say anything else. She knew.

"Oh fuck.

Mandy. I'm so sorry."

She wrapped her dressing gown around herself more tightly and held my hand. Even straight out of bed, she managed to look the upmarket model of me. Perhaps if I'd been more like Mindy none of this would be happening. But then it didn't stop Graham. Oh, I didn't know, perhaps all men were the same.

"He was in our bed with her when I got home yesterday. I saw them... doing it.

I can't get the image out of my head."

"You saw them? Actually...?"

"Yes. She was on top of him. Naked."

"Fuck. At least with Graham, I didn't have to actually see it.

Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Gone. Probably with her."

I would have cried again but I was all out of tears.

"Have you told mum and dad?"

"No. I can't. Not yet. Mum'll just say I told you so."

"She won't. She'll support you. Same as I will. Anything you need. You know that."

"Oh, Mindy. I don't know what I'm going to do. Am I so unattractive that no one wants me? Not even Ray?"

"What? No. You're pretty. You just need to believe in yourself. Same as I've always told you."

I shook my head.

"You should have seen her. All glamorous and long legs. Perfect boobs and makeup. I can't compete with that."

"I'm your sister. I've seen your tits. They're like mine, and trust me, there's plenty of people out there who are gonna like them. All you need to do is make more of yourself. Some decent clothes and a little makeup.

But that's not important right now. First things first. Make sure you have access to money..."

"Perhaps I should ask him to come back. Apologise."

"Apologise? What for?"

"For being no good in bed. I can do better. Perhaps..."

"Mandy. Stop right now. He cheated. Not you. You've nothing to apologise for. And if... well, it takes two to... you know. If there's anything wrong in the bedroom department, he's to blame as well.

Or perhaps you're just with the wrong... person."

"He was." I retorted.

"You haven't seen her. She's gorgeous. I'm just..."

"Mummy."

Adams's voice drifted down the stairs and cut into our conversation.

"He's awake."

Mindy said stating the obvious.

"Let me go."

I jumped in.

"I need something to take my mind off... other things."

Mindy held her hand out to the doorway.

"Be my guest.

Expect fun and games trying to get him dressed. It can be a battle of wits some mornings."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself before climbing the stairs.

"Hello, Adam." I said playfully, crouching down as I approached his bed.

"Aunty Mandy." He jumped up excitedly, showing me his Spider-Man pyjamas.

"Good morning. Good morning. Good morning." I said with an over-the-top extravagance I didn't truly feel.

I dived at him and tickled his ribs to his great delight. Adam was giggling and kicking his feet. The innocence of childhood that I wished I could go back to.

"Okay.

Shall we get you dressed?"

"Yes."

"What do you want to wear today?"

I looked through his drawers, pulling out socks and pants.

"It's warm so shorts and tee shirt?"

"I want to wear trousers."

"Okay. You put these on and I'll find your trousers."

I had to rearrange his socks and help with the fastening on his jeans but otherwise, Adam had just about managed to master the art of dressing. And he'd done it without the fuss Mindy had foretold.

"I want breakfast."

"Come on then. Aunty Mandy will make breakfast for her favourite boy."

He didn't move. Instead putting his arms out.

"Carry me."

Mindy was smirking as I came past with Adam in my arms and him hanging from my neck.

"Breakfast time apparently." I said taking him to the kitchen.

"That'll be waffles and maple syrup."

"What?

I was thinking Frosties or toast. That's what we had."

"We didn't grow up watching American-made children's programmes."

I put Adam at the table and glanced around looking for what I needed.

"How do you cook waffles?"

"Toaster. They're in with the bread.

Butter then syrup."

"Lots of syrup." Adam added helpfully.

"Lots and lots and lots."

I wasn't so sure about that.

"If you're okay doing that, I'm gonna take a quick shower and put some clothes on."

I was hit with the memory of my conversation with Anna. And the idea it was all my future held when it came to a sex life. But then was that such a bad thing? I hadn't exactly enjoyed it so going without might not be so bad.

"What?"

Mindy stared at me quizzically.

Oh god. It'd shown on my face.

"Sorry. Just made me think of something Anna said."

"So, share."

"It doesn't matter."

Mindy wouldn't let it go.

"You've gone red. So yes it does."

I glanced at Adam. He was engrossed in watching his waffles toasting.

"Christ, Mindy."

I moved closer to whisper.

"Do you...

I mean... is it true you can use... With a shower head?"

Mindy started laughing.

"Are you asking if you can get off with the spray?"

I blushed so hard my cheeks burned.

"Yes."

"How do you think I'm managing without a boyfriend at the moment?" She grinned wildly.

"Won't be long."

She walked away as I stood there slightly shocked.

"And if you're wondering. No, I'm not. Not this morning.

That's an evening thing."

I bit my lip and turned to check on Adam.

"You should definitely get a shower though." She called back.

"Dad will fit one."

No way was I asking Dad to fit a shower just after telling him I'd split from my husband. Not when everyone seemed to use them for... other things.

"Don't touch." I warned seeing the waffles pop up.

"They're hot darling."

My morning with Mindy had given me a backbone. I was fired up when I went to Ray's office that afternoon. I wanted answers. Not a scene. I was too timid for that. I just wanted to know why.

Who I got those answers from hadn't been clear in my mind. At least not until I was met with the chance sighting of Ophelia leaving just as I arrived. She didn't see me but I saw her. All legs and blonde hair in her flash clothes. A Honeychile Rider in a street full of Rosa Klebb's. She was impossible to miss. I don't know why, but I followed her.

She headed along the mall with me staying a few yards back. So many people milling around it wasn't likely she'd notice me. I was just another unremarkable face in the crowd at a glance. Nevertheless, l kept my hood up and stayed near the shop doorways.

She stood out. So elegant. She walked with a poise lifted by small heels. Graceful. I noticed several men take a look back at her. No one did that when I passed. I hated her for it.

Ophelia made the bus just as it was leaving and I cursed my bad luck seeing it pull away. I was about to give up when I saw the public gardens and remembered how the road curved around them. A fair stretch following the bus route, slowed by traffic, but a much shorter route on foot. It was a straight line.

I found myself running through the park along the main pathway that linked the front and rear gates. There was another stop just beyond those gates. With traffic, the bus would take about the same time I could cover the distance.

This wasn't the small park of grass, playground and the old bandstand near my home though. It was a grand city park with trees and a small lake. So much bigger and by the time I reached the far gates I was gasping for air. My lungs burned and I wasn't so far from vomiting with the exertion.

I looked along the road with my heart fluttering from fear that I'd missed the bus. No. It was there, coming around the corner. The big red and glass front towering above the mass of cars slowing its progress.

I straightened myself up and joined the other waiting passengers at the Stop. As the bus came to a standstill with a hiss of brakes, I pulled my hood back into place and climbed on. I was careful not to look down the rows of seats. If she saw me it had to be coincidence.

I paid the fare and started down the centre aisle as the bus continued on. Ophelia was sitting alone with her attention directed out of the window. I went past and sat at the rear. My eyes burned into her back. A back I remembered so clearly. Every rib and toned muscle etched in my mind, naked as it'd moved up and down in its sensual manner while she'd committed adultery with my husband. And then the image of her sex, penetrated by him. It was crystal clear in my head. Etched into my memories. It made me sick. I hated her even more.

But what was I going to do now? The momentary feeling of being James Bond had passed. Now I was left with the realisation that it was a pointless exercise if there was no end game.

Great. I would know where she lived. So what? It wasn't like that helped me in any way. Should I confront her? To what end? I hated conflict. No matter my anger I'd come away the loser. I was too timid and far from clever with my words. Ophelia was sophisticated. She would easily put me down and then she would know how much she'd hurt me. She'd laugh at me. I suddenly felt stupid.

With no plan, I stayed put and waited until the bus passed into a more suburban area of the city. A mixture of grand houses and apartment buildings. All dating back to the interwar years. Nineteen-thirties opulence and art deco designs.

I waited as Ophelia hopped off then made a quick dash for the door at the last moment, skipping out onto the pavement as she strode towards a nearby building. Yes, it was pointless, but I was here now.

It was a posh apartment block. Not the kind of place you'd expect a Secretary to live in but Ophelia had an air about her that it didn't surprise me. I watched her go inside and I took a seat on a bench in the small green opposite. This hadn't helped at all. But somehow it made me feel just a tiny bit more powerful to know where she lived.

I looked up the street wondering if I'd see Ray coming along for another assignation with his fancy piece. What if he was already in there waiting for her? I glanced up at the windows as if I'd see them together at one of them. Doing it again to torment me as I watched.

That made me wonder about the late evenings and the Sunday golf. Had he been here all those times? And was it my fault because I wouldn't do the things she would? Perhaps if I'd enjoyed sex more he wouldn't have strayed. But then I couldn't be what I wasn't.

I think I sat for about an hour lost in my thoughts before I made my way back on the returning bus. Home to an empty house while Ray cuddled up to his fancy woman.

I told Anna the next day. It was obvious something was wrong as soon as she came through the door. I hadn't even combed my hair let alone dress.

"I'm so sorry."

When I thought about it, Anna was the only friend I had. Aside from Mindy of course. The only other person I could talk to.

"Men are such arses."

She put her arms around me and I screwed my face up trying not to cry as she held me. It felt nice to be hugged.

"They were together. In my bed."

"Come and sit down."

She continued holding me as she led me over to the sofa and sat me down. Again she pulled me in and hugged me.

I didn't want to leave her embrace. She was more comforting than Ray had ever been. I put my head on her bosom. It felt soft. A fluffy pillow.

"Leave the cleaning today." I said.

"I need your company."

I snuggled tighter into her, feeling relaxed and comforted.

"It's fine. I'm here for you." She whispered before kissing my head.

"Talk about it if it helps."

"I came home and they were upstairs. I saw them together. They were naked. Doing it. It was horrible."

"Have you spoken to him?

Men do stupid things. Doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

"You haven't seen her. She's Little Miss Perfect. Everything I'm not. I can't compete with her."

"No one is that perfect."

"She is. She's glamorous. I'm just ... boring next to her."

Anna slowly stroked my hair.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're as beautiful as anyone. Ray's a dick if he doesn't see that."

I wanted to tell her she was wrong. That no one ever looked at me that way. I wanted to tell her that all the things she found fun, I found disgusting. I wanted to tell her that was why he'd left. Because his Secretary was more able to please him than I ever could be.

In my head, I saw the scene again. I saw Ophelia's perfect breasts and excited face. I saw his penis going into her over and over. I felt sick.

"I do need one thing, please.

Can you change my bed? Throw everything away, including the pillows. I can't sleep on sheets they ..."

I trailed away unable to voice it.

"There's some new ones in the ottoman in the spare room.

Anna didn't even question it. She understood.

"Of course. I'll do it before I leave. Promise."

"Thank you."

Five

It was the third time I'd followed Ophelia. Three days in a row. Each time back to her apartment. I hadn't seen Ray with her once.

I did what I'd done the previous times and sat on a bench on the grass verge across the road. I had twenty minutes or so before I needed to make my way back to the bus stop for the return home. And now it was drizzling to add to my self-pitying mood. Of course, this act achieved nothing except to reinforce some fake idea in my head that it gave me power.

"Why are you sitting out here?"

I jumped at Ophelia's voice behind me. The last thing I'd expected and with it that power vanished. I was Mouse again. Meek and weak.

"I... don't know."

She looked down at me as though I was nothing. I wasn't.

"I just ..."

Christ, I was mumbling. Pathetic.

"You've been following me for days."

I flushed bright red at the realisation I wasn't a budding MI5 agent after all. More Inspector Clouseau than James Bond.

"I... I thought you were inside."

Hardly a justification.

"I was." She said.

"I came out the back way to catch you."

I glanced back at the building.

"I hadn't realised there was a back way."

Ophelia sighed.

"Not very good at this are you? Watch more Cop shows, that's where your partner should be. Watching the back while you go in the front in case the suspect makes a break for it."

"I don't have a partner."

Her face softened a little. Almost laughing at me. She sighed.

"Never mind."

She glanced about and I braced myself expecting to be verbally lashed. Instead, she relaxed her stern posture a little.

"Look.

I know why you're here.

I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean it to. It just did."

"He was my husband." I said pathetically.

Ophelia eased her voice to match her face. Almost apologetic in tone.

"Yeah. Well. Husbands aren't always the delightful loyal men we see in the movies. Especially when they're in positions of authority."

She pulled her coat tighter around herself and her eyes studied me closer.

"How many times have you been here? Twice now that I know of."

"I don't know. Three, I think."

"What do you expect it's going to achieve?"

"I don't know. I just wanted to see who you are."

"You know who I am. I'm Ray's Secretary. You've seen me loads of times."

"Yes. But, not the real you. I wanted to know who you really are. What it is that you have and I don't."

She looked up at the rain. It was starting to come down harder."

"Okay. You want to see who I am? Come up. I'll give you the guided tour."

I stared at her for a moment. This wasn't what I'd expected at all. She started walking towards her apartment block.

"Come on. I'm not standing out here getting wet while you feel sorry for yourself."

I followed behind. For the life of me, I didn't understand why. Through the grand doorway and up a flight of ridiculously wide stairs.

Her apartment was a plush place. Modern and expansive for a flat. A large living space with a raised level along one side and a wrought iron balustrade. Two doors, one was open to the bedroom beyond.

Dark highly polished wooden fittings hinted at the period origins of the building. As did the furniture. Exuberant materials and rich colours gave a very modern twist while also reflecting the Art Deco design of the time it was built.

"Give me your coat. It's soaked through."

She hung it over the entrance radiator to dry off and went towards the kitchen area while I stared at her shapely legs. Heels that clicked on the floor kept her back straight and gave her that glamorous poise I envied. Perhaps I should wear heels?

"I know what you're thinking. It's not mine. Fourteen hundred a month. That includes most of the furnishings.

It's what being nice to your husband secures. A job that pays for it."

"Nice? You were sleeping with him."

She sighed.

"Yes. Sorry. I said that wrong. I didn't mean to make it sound that way..."

I turned away and looked at the artwork decorating her walls. It took me by surprise. Where I had scenic views of village life and arranged flowers, Ophelia's choice was for female figures. Not precise human forms. These were angular in their depiction, portrayed in varying states of undress while just managing to remain decent. They had a hint of sexuality without reaching into the pornographic. Fitting for her I thought.

Ophelia noticed me looking.

"What can I say? I find the female form beautiful."

Not so much as she'd found Ray's form enticing.

My eyes fell on the bedroom. The door was open and I could see her bed. It was like her. Tastefully dressed and presented. Lots of cushions. Almost like a show home. I took a couple of steps where I could see it more clearly.

"Did you and him... there?"

She studied me. I could see her trying to decide whether to lie or not. I appreciated that she chose not to.

"Yeah. A few times.

It was mostly here in fact."

I stared at the quilt, wondering if it smelt of him.

"I'm sorry.

It happened. You weren't supposed to find out."

She found two mugs and used a boiling water tap to make coffee.

"Milk and sugar?"

"Please."

It felt surreal to accept hospitality in the lair of my nemesis.

"Here." She pushed a mug into my hands.

"If you hadn't come home that day it would have fizzled out and you'd have never known. I can't promise there wouldn't have been someone else. But he'd have still come home to you. He'd have still been your husband.

Lots of men fuck other women and stay married. It's not such a big deal really."

"It is for me."

She sipped her coffee. I could almost hear her thoughts as she decided what to say.

"You should know, I've told him it's over. Perhaps if you.."

"If I what?"

For a moment there was strength in my voice. A strength born out of anger.

"Beg him to come back? Say all is forgiven? I can't do that. Not now."

I saw her eyes glance me up and down, assessing me.

"He's what? Twenty, twenty-five years older than you?

Just how many girls do you think he fucked before he even met you? Am I really so different to any of those? It's just a matter of timing."

I shook my head.

"You don't understand. He's the only one who ever... I can't just move on. And I have to live with the idea that I wasn't even good enough for him."

The weakness was back and with it came a look of pity from her as she started to grasp my meaning. There was a mixture of frustration and disbelief in her voice when she spoke.