She followed him when he left the house, keeping a good distance so he wouldn’t notice. The streetlights shone on the wet pavement making everything glow yellow and there was the drip drop of rain from the roof tops, trees and cars. She slowed her pace feeling her heart racing in her chest, but she had to know who the other woman was.
Her husband paused at the corner of their street and looked both ways. He turned left, not actually crossing the road, but carrying on. She listened to his footsteps then tailed him. He walked to the end of the road, checked both ways again the crossed and rounded a corner.
Seeing him disappeared, she picked up pace and almost got run over by a car she never saw coming out of the darkness. She stumbled on to the pavement and her hands hit the damp surface as the car horn blared behind her. Gasping, she scrambled up and ducked behind someone’s parked car in a driveway.
She peered out, but didn’t see him. Getting up, she tried to follow him again, but she couldn’t spot him. Wandering around only resulted in her walking back home. Sighing, she went inside and sat on the sofa. Crossing her arms and legs, she tried to figure what where he had gone.
Must be somewhere local as he walked, she thought, Or else he was doing that to throw me off. I was so careful though.
Getting up, she went upstairs and into the spare bedroom. She pulled a small diary out from under the mattress and flipped through the pages. Some of the days were marked with red dots. She turned to today’s date then picked up a red Biro pen from the bedside draw and placed a red dot in the corner.
Flicking backwards, she saw that almost a week ago there was another red dot. Then there was a gap of a two weeks whilst they had been on holiday, but right before their leave day was another dotted date. She carried on for a few moments, trying for the hundredth time to figure the pattern, but there didn’t seem to be one.
She closed the book and decided to root through his study again. Putting the diary back, she got up and went into the next room. It had been awhile since she had been in his writing space. Ignoring the stale smell of sweat, coffee and mints, she turned the light on and began searching through his drawers of his desk. There was nothing but stationary things and a broken mobile phone.
Turning she checked the book shelves which were packed with writing books, mythology books, non-fiction works on a whole range of subjects then a few fiction works that had been well read and written in. His small selection of published books had a high shelf to themselves and she reached up and took them down one by one. Flicking through the pages, she uncovered nothing.
Sliding the last one back, she looked around and tried to see anything that was out of place. Nothing came to note. Making sure everything was tidy, she walked out and searched their bedroom. Though the idea of him hiding the mystery woman’s details in their marital bed of twenty years didn’t make any sense to her.
Once again, she found nothing. Tried, she got into the bed and lay there thinking, who is she?
To Be Continued…
The Story Files 