We were supposed to be a team. He was supposed to be my equal. I felt let down, deflated even and deprived, without theinitial high of ever actually being properly in love. But having made my bed, I lay in it, cold and lonely.
Rob and I lived separate lives under the same roof, under the pretence that the situation was normal, but we both knew deep down it was far from it.
I’d accepted that it was just going to be that way.
Now and then, somebody would ask that painfully awkward question: ‘When are you guys going to have a baby?’
It wasn’t entirely unreasonable I suppose, given we’d been married for seven years, but there was zero chance of that happening. We all know how babies are made and there was none of that going on. There hadn’t been for years. Plus, I already had the man-child to look after and I could barely manage that, let alone anything else.
But bar the complete lack of any form of romance or intimacy, life was good. Intimacy seemed overrated to me, anyway.
I completely and utterly lacked desire.
Until that night…
I didn’t bank on really falling in love.
With somebody else.
I met him one balmy summer night.
Bang, The Universe dealt me a brand-new hand of cards, the Royal Flush. The prize was phenomenal, more than I could comprehend, but so were the stakes, and I’d never gambled with anything before–let alone my life.
Cupid’s bow struck me hard and fast when I least expected it. I fell head over heels, crazy in love. The ‘couldn’t eat or sleep for thinking about him kind of love’. The irrational, uncontrollable, overwhelming, all-consuming love I would sacrifice anything for.
Chemicals, though they might be, were more addictive than the purest drug in the entire universe. Who would have thought?
The only teeny tiny problem was, I was already married to somebody else.
Chapter One
FRIDAY 29TH JUNE 2012
FRIDAY
It was the weekend of my future sister-in-law’s hen party in Bristol. The day was seasonably humid; the surgery lacked air despite the open sash window. My cobalt scrubs clung to my clammy skin. My backside numb from the day spent sitting on the saddle stool peering into people’s mouths.
Most days, I absolutely loved my job as a dental hygienist. It’s not a career you could afford to be squeamish in. I loved the patients, loved my colleagues, loved being able to help people and to make a difference.
A commotion downstairs in the patient waiting area sounding largely like a heard of elephants in stilettos announced the arrival of my girlfriends. I peeled off my scrubs, threw on a sun dress and raced down to join them. Friday afternoon traffic was a pain in any city, but it would be worth it when I was sipping a Cosmo in the Harvey Nichols bar the following day.
My future sister-in-law asked me to be her bridesmaid, despite the fact we weren’t close. English wasn’t her first language, and she tended to translate exactly what she was thinking–Bluntly. Her hobbies included body building and calorie counting, neither of which I was very good at.
I was a girly girl, and an unashamed Dairy Milk lover, and proud of it. But I hoped this weekend would enable us to bond.
‘Ready ladies?’ My spirit soared at the prospect of a weekend in a city full of unexplored bars and shops with eleven other women for company.
‘I was born ready, baby!’ Clara shrieked four octaves higher than necessary.
Clara was the practice manager in the other dental surgery I worked in. I split my shifts between Dental Connections and Appollo Dental Practice, both of which were in Winchester.
Over the last four years, Clara had become a great friend. We had the same messed up sense of humour and we loved the same sports; shopping, sunbathing and of course, our Wednesday Wine Club.
Heidi lurked awkwardly in the doorway with a Bride-to-Be luminous pink sash on and flashing penis earrings. Clara clutched a bottle of Prosecco under her arm and four plastic flutes. Our friend, Ruth, stood between them, looking fabulously understated in jeans and a white bardot top.
Ruth was engaged to one of my childhood best friends, Oliver. We clicked the first time we met. When Oliver left the room, she asked if Oliver and I had ever slept together. Her question caused me to dissolve into belly-clutching fits of laughter.
The answer was a resounding no. The visible relief that swept over her delicate features was endearing. We’ve been firm friends ever since.
