Edith and Albert

Edith Smith took another deep breath as she pushed the old mower down the garden. It had passed its best years ago, but Albert thought a new one would be too expensive. Not to worry, she thought, Albert likes the lawns cut and the exercise is good for my figure.

‘You should let that husband of yours do that when he gets home,’ said Mrs. Burry leaning over the garden fence. Mrs. Burry was always offering Edith advice on how to stand up for herself against her husband. ‘Oh, I quite enjoy it actually,’ retorted Edith. ‘Well you won’t find me doing all that pushing and shoving, let the men do it I say!’

Edith didn’t want to get into a long conversation or, as more likely, a long listening session with Mrs. Burry; she wanted to get Albert’s favorite dinner prepared. ‘I promise I’ll have a word with him when he gets home,’ said Edith as she turned her back on Mrs. Burry and started pushing the old mower away.

Edith was quite happy with her marriage to Albert. He could be described as boring, a typical male, or even lazy around the house, but all together he was a good man, always reliable and very predictable.

At precisely six o-clock, Albert’s BMW pulled into the driveway; bang on time as usual, thought Edith. ‘Hello love, see you have been cutting the lawn again,’ said Albert as he kissed her on the cheek, ‘looks really nice.’ ‘Hello darling, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, boring really, the usual.’

Albert had been an accountant with the same firm for more than twenty years, and for every one of years he had said the same things when Edith asked him how is day had been. Perhaps one day he will come home and tell me he isn’t an accountant after all, mused Edith, perhaps he is a secret agent or a racing car driver. She laughed to herself as she pictured Albert looking stern and saying ‘my name is Smith, Albert Smith, my number is 008.’

After dinner – Albert’s favorite was English meat and potato pie, with ‘just a few peas and a nice cup of tea’ – Albert sat in his favorite chair to read the daily paper as Edith cleared away the dishes. ‘I see there is a documentary on BBC two later,’ said Albert. ‘Yes, I was thinking we would watch that, I’ve a little laundry to put away, then I’ll join you, said Edith.

Edith made her way upstairs to their bedroom, checking Albert hadn’t followed her. She unpacked the black lace Basque she had bought in town, carefully folded it and placed it under her regular underwear. Albert wouldn’t find it there, she thought to herself, in fact he probably wouldn’t have noticed it if she had left it on the dressing table, she thought to herself.

Later they both sat in the lounge watching the documentary. But Edith’s mind was on other things. It was nearly the end of the month and she knew he would soon announce that he had to work late one night to finish up the monthly reports. ‘Shouldn’t complain,’ he would say, ‘we can always use the extra income.’ They never did, but they were pleased their nest egg was growing.

As the documentary finished, Albert looked across at Edith and said, ‘I’m afraid I will have to work late tomorrow, usual monthly thing, you’ll be all right though’ he asked as usual. ‘Yes, I’ve plenty of things I want to do,’ replied Edith. She often wondered what Albert would say, or do, if he ever found out what she really did when he worked late.

The hotel manager gave her a knowing look as he handed over the keys to a room number 122. They had met in this room a number of times now, but it was still exciting for Edith. She changed quickly into her new Basque and added some fish net stockings. With her high-healed shoes finishing off the look, she was no longer the respectable suburban housewife everyone thought she was. ‘That should do it,’ she said to herself as she looked into a full length mirror. She quickly put on a bath robe and sat waiting in a chair.

At three o-clock the door latch moved. Edith could feel her heart rate go up; she pulled the bath robe a little tighter. She breathed out as she saw his face, it was Michael, Albert’s boss.

She stood up and let the bathrobe fall down. Michael’s face changed from smiling to serious. ‘You look incredible,’ he said, his voice almost a whisper. She may have been a middle-aged woman, but she had a perfect figure, Michael had told her so many times.

They wanted nothing more from each other. It was the perfect arrangement. Being with Michael was always good, exciting, different. She loved the secret rendezvous’, the build up of excitement before their meetings, buying sexy underwear. But above all, she enjoyed being treated like a different woman.

She had often thought once a month wasn’t enough. But then she would have missed the build up of excitement, the anticipation. All sure in the knowledge that Albert would work late one night, and she would free and he would never know.

At the end of their date, Michael took the room key back while Edith went to her car. She placed the key in the ignition and pressed start. The engine turned over and over but it would not start. ‘Got a problem,’ said Michael peering in at the driver’s window, ‘I can give you a ride if you like, there is a repair shop just down the road.’
Edith tried one more time, but the engine refused to start.

She felt uneasy as she slipped into the passenger seat of Michael’s Jaguar. She had never been in his car before, preferring to use her own car for their meetings. ‘Don’t look so worried, I’m sure the mechanics will have you up and running in no time at all,’ said Michael trying to reassure her as he started to pull onto the main road. He suddenly braked as another car came into view and passed in front of them quickly.

Michael didn’t see the other driver, but Edith did, it was Albert.

Michael had been right, a mechanic had her car running in a few minutes, ‘just flooded he said,’ whatever that meant thought Edith, not caring. Edith drove home wondering what Albert was going to say. What would she say? There was no doubt he had seen her with Michael, why hadn’t he stopped? There was no point trying to deny it; Albert had looked straight at her. Why hadn’t he stopped?

She kept going over what Albert would say, or do, as she drove home. Perhaps he would divorce her. Perhaps he would get angry, even violent! No, not good old Albert, she reasoned, he was the most placid man she had ever known. The only thing she knew for certain was that she had to face him and tell him the truth, she owed him that at least. All those years she had been cheating on him, gold old faithful Albert; she began to cry.

It was the worst journey she had ever had. As she parked her car next to Albert’s, she glanced up to see him watching her from the lounge window. She tried to see what expression was on his face. There was none. She let herself in and went straight to the lounge.

Albert had sat down in his favorite chair, he was watching her every move. She was shaking from top to toe. ‘Albert I . . . ’ He held up his hand and gestured for her to sit. She sat as instructed. ‘Edith, you have been seeing Michael for ten years now, haven’t you?’ Edith nodded in agreement then glanced down at some fluff on the carpet. Her mind was racing, how did he know, why hadn’t he said something before, what on earth was he going to say next?

‘I know this Edith, because I have been seeing Michael’s wife for the past ten years.’ He stood up to leave the room. Edith was speechless, she just starred at him, mouth open. ‘I’ll put the kettle on for tea, I believe there is a good documentary on BBC two,’ said Albert.