The Letter

As I understand it the word 'cuckold' means a man whose wife is having sex with other men with his knowledge and generally against his will. On that basis the following story does not accord with the definition but I felt that it was worth relating due to the undoubted degree of poignancy.

When the husband, a Thomas Fairfield, rang me I felt from his voice that he was somewhat older than my other confidants and this impression was confirmed when he later walked into my office. I guessed at middle sixties and it turned out that he had just celebrated his sixty-fifth birthday. He was somewhat below average height and could have been classed as dapper but for a thickening round his middle of the type that I always attribute to contented living. After the polite preliminaries, I sat in silence waiting for him to begin in his own time - I always try to avoid prompting if at all possible. Thomas obviously wanted to get it off his chest because he began almost immediately on what had to be a prepared speech.

"If I had spoken to you at last New Year I would have said that I was only six years away from my golden wedding after a marriage filled with happiness and mutual fidelity," he said ruefully.

"But late this summer my younger brother Robin died very suddenly. His widow Jane, my sister-in-law, declared herself capable of handling all the financial aspects of his estate but felt unable to go through his personal papers. So it was logical that I, as a last fraternal duty, should step in and undertake this task for her. I worked with mixed emotions because although at times I was intrigued to discover aspects of my brother's interests that I had never known, at others I felt intrusive and had to force myself to continue. For all the good that my perusal of these documents did, I might as well have dumped the lot unread into the bin - and I wish to God that I had. Tucked in the back of a well-worn wallet I came across a very old letter. Written thirty-five years ago, it was from May, my wife, ending an affair with him."

At this point he halted with a film of moisture in his eyes. I waited to let him regain composure but when he displayed no inclination to continue I murmured quietly, "And?"

"I don't know what to do about it," he said.

His dilemma was obvious but I was not willing to say anything constructive on such sparse information - if fact, offering advice even after full disclosure is generally frowned upon. "Have you got the letter or have you destroyed it?"

In answer he took the mentioned wallet from his pocket, extracted a faded envelope from it and this he laid in front of me with almost religious reverence. It read:-

Dearest Robin

Ever since first discovering that you were so much bigger than Tom

I have been completely crazy and perhaps am only now regaining my

senses. I love Tom and cannot bear the thought of hurting him or ruining

my marriage so we have got to stop what we are doing. I will miss our

special afternoons together desperately but I must ask you not to call

again when I am alone.

Sorry darling

May

I spent some moments contemplating how I should approach this and finally asked what he could remember about the period in question.

"I think it was a time when my brother was often there when I got home from work," he said. "Rob had a job then which involved working evenings and early mornings so that much of his days were free. My little girl Sarah, (we only had the one then) was three and went to a nursery during the afternoon. I do know that for a period of months I frequently got home to find him playing with my daughter - that's when the affair must have been going on although I don't know if it was right from the start. Rob tended to stay and eat with us. He used to jokingly refer to May as 'our wife' and it is only now that I have belatedly realised the joke was on me."

"Did this change after your wife must have ended it?"

"Yes - Rob suddenly stopped calling at all but at the time I believed that this was because he had changed jobs. He actually dropped out of our lives completely for a couple of years and when he did reappear it was with a girlfriend called Beth in tow. During the following months he seemed pretty serious about her and May and I went out with them two or three times as a foursome. Then suddenly he switched to Jane and shortly after that married her. Since then we raised our family and they raised theirs. Over the years we met at family gatherings, sometimes on a pretty regular basis but at others with two years or more intervening between meetings. When greeting and saying farewell I noticed that May and Rob shared more natural affection than occurred between myself and Jane - I have always been pleased at their rapport and only now realise that it was a reflection of that one time shared intimacy."

"Is there any other factor you can think of that might have a bearing on this?" I asked.

"Yes - Rob's character," he told me bitterly. "Right from the start of his marriage he was a compulsive womaniser. Jane knew but it didn't seem to decrease her love for him - the only time that she ever commented on his behaviour was to say simply, 'It's the way he is.' Rob must have been with hundreds of other women over the years because his different jobs always brought him in direct contact with the public. Once when he was a rent collector, for some reason I accompanied him for a morning as he made his round. After leaving one young woman he said, 'Stripped she's got the most amazing pear shaped tits' and a few calls later his comment was, 'That woman may not look much but she's a volcano in bed.' I can't say that I was jealous because I had no real desire to act like that but I did resent the way that he went through life not caring who he hurt and invariably getting away with it."

"To your knowledge - was he well endowed?" I had to ask.

"I never saw him naked as an adult but odd remarks he made gave that impression. One time, possibly that same morning on his round he said, 'Once women know what I've to offer, they just can't say No'. I suppose that he must have been," Thomas added sadly.

"And you?"

"Average I guess, I've never given it much thought."

It all added up. Apart from the historical nature all of the elements of the case were distressingly familiar - but I was still unsure how to proceed. By default I remained silent. Thomas initially assumed that I was considering my response but after a while with none forthcoming he asked, "So what do you think I should do?"

I resorted to the classic bounce-back technique. "You must have given this a great deal of thought since discovering the letter - what do you think you should do?"

"It was a very long time ago and sometimes I think that I should forget about it but at others I get so knotted up inside that I know it's impossible to pretend that it never happened."

"What do you think a confrontation would achieve?"

"Nothing I suppose," he conceded," - It would at least let her know that I know."

"That would not gain you much and it could be counterproductive," I pointed out. "I think that at the very least it would introduce an unnecessary degree of tension between you and your wife for the remainder of your lives together."

"Yes - but won't that tension be there from me anyway?"

"It doesn't have to be. You said yourself that it was a very long time ago," I reminded him.

"Suffering the particular vulnerability of a young mother, your wife succumbed to a combination of pressure, situation and momentary overwhelming attraction. But later her love for you reasserted itself, forcing her to give him up and allowing you to enjoy well over three decades of happy marriage. There are few marriages that even last that long. I would leave this infidelity in history where it belongs and put it out of your mind for the rest of your life." It was categorical advice but I felt sincerely that it needed to be given.

Thomas Fairfield left my office looking somewhat happier and I was confident that would be the last I saw of him - so it was with a degree of surprise when a fortnight later I received a telephone call from him requesting another appointment. At the agreed time I ushered him into my office and got him seated comfortably.

"Despite what you said, I'm afraid that I spoke to my wife about the letter," he said but then, having made the announcement he seemed to become preoccupied by the glass of tranquillising refreshment that I had provided.

I waiting quite a long time but finally had to say gently, "Do you want to tell me about it."

The question broke him out of a reverie and he threw me an embarrassed smile. "I didn't come right out and accuse her. It seemed better to work up gradually - I think I hoped that she would confess before I mentioned my proof."

At this point I switched on the tape recorder, not making a great point of it but at the same time not hiding what I had done. The following section is entirely his words transcribed from the tape:-

May and I were chatting about Rob anyway so it seemed an ideal time to mention the letter. I started by asking casually, "Did Rob ever make a pass at you?"

May laughed and said, "When in particular?"

"Any time - but I was really thinking about that period when Sarah was little and Rob seemed to be always at the house," I told her.

She still seemed amused. "You mean when he used to refer to me as 'our wife?'" I nodded pretending to smile as well but then she answered with another question by saying, "What makes you ask?"

"I've been remembering how Rob chased women all his life and it struck me that he must have tried his luck with you."

"Oh he would have liked to all right - all it needed was for me to say 'Yes' - you being his brother was not a factor in his thinking," May told me easily, her voice sounding amazingly relaxed.

"Did you say 'Yes' to him," I asked softly, steeling myself for her confession.

"I didn't say 'Yes' or any other damn thing," May said with a touch of anger, the denial spoken in such a firm voice that had I not known otherwise I would have been thoroughly convinced.

"Then you would have no reason to write a letter ending an affair with him."

My wife's face showed nothing; only a hand straying to the cigarette packet betrayed her sudden tension. "Are you telling me that he kept the damn thing?" she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"It was amongst his papers - I wish to hell I'd never found it."

"And me," she agreed. "I never wanted you to know. It happened such a long time ago that I thought I was safe."

"But you're still lying about it," I accused.

"Not strictly lying. I never did say 'Yes' - I just let it happen." May lit her cigarette and then said, "I suppose that I'm going to have to tell you after all. I'd fancied Rob from the start - he was an attractive man especially when he was younger. That was all though, you can fancy a lot of men without actually jumping into bed with them. At that time, it was a bit boring for me while Sarah was at play-school so I enjoyed Rob calling round. It was fun, we were relaxed together, he told a lot of stories and made me laugh. He was always coming on to me but it turned into a game and I could put him off without much problem. Then one day for some reason it was different - there seemed to be a kind of electricity in the air between us. I dashed out of the room and ran upstairs into the spare bedroom. I don't honestly know whether I was trying to hide or simply going somewhere we could do it - perhaps if I'd really wanted to escape I would have gone in our bedroom and locked the door. Anyway, next moment Rob was standing in the doorway. Without saying anything, I just undressed and got into bed, then he did the same. Neither of us said a word to each other."

May got a faraway look in her eyes and this caused me a sharp twinge of jealousy because I knew she was remembering their times together.

"When I found how big his cock was and knew how it made me feel, I went crazy for a time," she said. "It wasn't just his penis because he was also a very good lover. He taught me several little tricks that I later did to you for years without you realising - so you did get benefit out of my affair. It was my love for you that stopped it because one day I realised how much my mind was dominated by thoughts of Rob and I knew my marriage was in danger if I didn't end it. That's when I wrote the letter - it was the hardest thing that I have ever done. For a time I was tempted to write another letter changing my mind but then being pregnant took my mind off him.

I had a sudden horrible thought and the question spilled out before I could stop it, "Is Leslie mine?" Leslie is our second daughter and she was born during that two-year period when Ron disappeared from our lives.

May gave me a long look and then said, "Even though Leslie arrived earlier than expected, all of her life I have never doubted for that she was yours for a moment."

"But?" I prompted. A simple 'Yes' would have sufficed - so that careful wording betrayed some reservation in my wife's mind.

"Until Rob's funeral," she continued slowly. "Seeing Leslie and Rob's daughter standing together by the grave side, it suddenly struck me that they looked far more like sisters than cousins. It's possible - I've heard that women can have a kind of reduced period after they first get pregnant."

"What else have you got to tell me?" I asked in despair not seriously believing that there might be more to be revealed.

"Are you sure that you want to keep digging in the past - it can't do anybody any good?" May asked in a resigned voice that said she had indeed got more to tell.

"I think that I've got a right to know," I managed to say.

"Maybe it is better to get everything out in the open," May agreed with a sigh. " - In that case I have to tell you about Alvin."

For about three years, some twenty years ago, my wife worked as manageress of a small dress shop. She was actually employed in the cake shop next door until the dress shop owner Al Cohn invited her to work for him instead. During those three years I never had the slightest suspicion even though there were many times she seemed to stay unnecessarily late after the shop was closed.

I think that my mind was not prepared to accept any more distressing information because I found myself incapable of speech and after a momentary hesitation my wife continued, "I had an affair with Alvin for most of the time that I managed his shop. When he asked me to work for him I knew he fancied me but I didn't seriously believe that it would lead to anything. In the third month we were in that pokey little office at the back of the shop totalling up the days receipts when he said, 'You know I want to fuck you don't you?' It was like a damn bursting. The next minute I'd got my panties off and we were at it hammer and tongs on the floor."

My wife stopped talking at that point, which gave me time to visualise that unwelcome scene but thankfully she continued, adding, "It was partly your fault because of Fiona."

I must explain about Fiona. This happened about eight years before. She and her husband were our best friends in the street for several years. I had the hot's for Fiona, made no secret of it and it was all treated as a big joke. They moved and shortly afterwards came back to see us on a flying visit. Before they left, Fiona got me alone and said, "I want you. I've always wanted you and we should have done something about it when we had the chance. Give me a ring." Well I rang her from work at the first opportunity and for the next two weeks we had exciting erotic conversations every day describing what we would like to do to each other. The upshot was that I secretly took a day's holiday and went on the train to see her. Even before getting there I was beginning to have reservations and on arrival at her new house I could see how sordid my intention was. I stopped for a cup of tea, made an excuse and set off on the long journey back home. All went well for a time until Fiona, drunk and feeling rejected by me, rang May to spill the beans. All I could do was tell the truth.

Now I reiterated what I said then, "Nothing physical happened with Fiona."

May gave a sigh of exasperation. "I hoped that you might be prepared to admit it at last. Fiona told me in small detail what you had got up to that day and despite what you say, I can't seriously believe that any man would spend a days holiday travelling all that way for nothing. If you had told the truth then I would have forgiven you because I didn't have much choice after Rob. It would have evened the score but when you continued with that ridiculous story I lost a lot of respect for you for a time. It rankled year after year that you thought you could treat me like a fool, so when Alvin turned up I felt that it served you right."

"I'll say it one last time and I've no reason to lie after what you've just told me - nothing happened with Fiona, I got there, changed my mind and caught the train back home," I told her spreading my hands with sincerity.

"I wish you had fucked her," May said with passion. "You should have given her what she wanted then she wouldn't have rung me. I need never have known a thing about your little indiscretion."

Weighed down by the injustice of life, I could not keep the petulance out of my voice as I reminded, "You were telling me about Alvin."

"From then it carried on all the time I was at the shop," she continued. "We did it twice a week when he turned up near closing time to deliver new stock. The little office was always so cluttered that more often than not I sucked him off. I know that I never really liked doing that with you but he had such a beautiful penis. It was even bigger than Rob's and with him being Jewish it looked prettier, well certainly nicer to put in my mouth. For actual screwing he either sat in the chair with me on his lap or I kind of perched on the edge of the desk - we seldom did it on the floor again after that first time. The best times were those five occasions when I went with him to the London fashion sales when his wife couldn't go. That's what caused the trouble because the last time, she saw the hotel bill for two people when she knew she hadn't been. One night after closing, we had just begun making love when she started hammering on the shop door and saying that she knew he had a woman with him. Alvin admitted everything through the door but asked her to wait for him in the car and not to make a scene so that everybody knew. That gave me the chance to slip out without her seeing me."

"So his wife never knew that it was you," I asked.

"Not officially but next day when she told me they were shutting the shop and then handed me less money than I was entitled to, it was obvious that she had a pretty good idea. Alvin couldn't do anything because all the money belonged to her and I reckon he was desperate to hang on to his marriage. I didn't complain about the cash because nothing about this was going to get back to you and that was the important thing."

"So you still thought enough of me to want to preserve our marriage?"

"I still loved you - I have never stopped loving you. You see right from when we first met I never thought that staying faithful was as important you said it was. That's why with the Fiona thing, it was such a let down to think you were as weak as everybody else despite your all high moral attitude."

I was beginning to get a bit of perspective. Hoping to bring the conversation to a close, I said, "Is that it - you've no more affairs to tell me about?"

"Not what you'd really call affairs," she said.

My heart sank. "Does that mean that you have been with other men? How many - one, ten, a hundred?"