Page 1 of A French Adventure
1
Vivienne Wilson slipped into the passenger seat and placed her laptop bag safely on her lap before clicking her seatbelt into place while her husband Jeremy stowed her suitcase in the boot of his Mini.
‘I could have taken a taxi to the airport, you know,’ she said, as Jeremy got in the driver’s seat and pulled his door closed. ‘But it’s lovely of you to take the time off. You’ve been so busy recently, it’s nice to have time together.’ She kept the thought ‘and that’s the understatement of the year’ to herself. For the past few months she’d barely seen Jeremy, other than at breakfast before he dashed out of the door for a long day at the newspaper where he was editor and currently in charge of a mammoth revamp of the six local Devonshire papers that were under his remit. She’d given up waiting for him to arrive home in time to eat supper at their usual time of 7.30. After several evenings of meals drying out as she tried to keep them warm for him, she’d stopped cooking evening meals and Jeremy had been reduced to egg on toast or pasta he cooked for himself at whatever time he arrived home.
Vivienne had felt guilty at first, knowing that he was under a lot of pressure at work. She had hoped that Sundays, now that both Natalie and Tim had left home, would become a day when the two of them would enjoy their time together, like when they were first married. Sunday papers, tea and croissants in bed, a leisurely drive somewhere for Sunday lunch. Instead Vivienne had begun to dread the weekends. Jeremy had been increasingly short-tempered and moody with her even on those days, so much so that she took refuge in her own study, catching up with social media and networking with other authors to stay out of his way. Accepting a contract to write a new book involving the Jazz Age in the South of France, and telling him it would need a lot of on-site research, even though Google was her go-to friend, was all part of the avoidance plan.
By the time she returned after two months away on what was virtually her own writer’s retreat in Antibes on the French Riviera, the revamp of the newspapers would be finished and she and Jeremy could settle back into their normal married life once again, ready to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary at the end of the year. She’d suggested Jeremy took some leave and joined her in Antibes for the last week of the retreat for a holiday, but that idea had been rejected instantly, even though he had been the one to urge her to go to France.
He shrugged. ‘The paper can manage without me for a couple of hours. Sami is here for a few days, so I’m sure they can cope. They can always call me if there’s a problem in the next hour,’ he said, concentrating on joining the stream of traffic on the main road. ‘I need to talk to you and I figured that this would be a good time.’
Vivienne glanced across at him in surprise. ‘What about? And why not talk to me at home? Why wait until I’m about to leave the country for two months?’
‘I thought neutral ground would be better for what I have to say,’ he replied, his voice clipped. ‘I’ll explain over a coffee when we get to the airport. Right now, I need to concentrate on driving.’
Vivienne felt herself subside into her seat as anxiety flooded her body. Something bad was clearly going on. Was Jeremy ill? He looked tired and was definitely stressed. Was he about to be made redundant? The news that Sami, the deputy big boss, was in the office was unusual. No, the newspaper group he worked for was expanding, not contracting. Maybe Jeremy was being promoted, asked to move to one of the other towns and run things from there? She wouldn’t mind that so long as they could live on the outskirts, she wasn’t a fan of suburban living; these days, she much preferred the quiet of the countryside. They’d lived in their detached four-bedroom house for twenty-six years now and she would enjoy having a new house to sort out. Yes, a house move could be good, bring their relationship back on track.
There was, of course, always the possibility that he was having an affair with one of the female journalists he worked with. Vivienne cast her mind over the women whom she’d met at Christmas office parties. There had been a couple of new faces last year, but only one had really registered with her: Helen. A vivacious charming woman who was new in town and recently married, so surely it couldn’t be her? Besides, it was impossible to think of Jeremy being unfaithful. Had she missed any tell-tale signs of him having a mid-life crisis? Had he truly been working all those hours on the papers – or was that a cover-up for something else?
‘Jeremy, this is driving me crazy. For goodness’ sake tell me what’s wrong. Whatever the problem is we can sort it together. Are you ill?’
‘No. But I’m not discussing anything while I’m driving.’
Vivienne risked a quick glance at Jeremy’s set face. He’d always had what she called a good face for poker, not that he played, but it made it hard to see or judge what he was thinking. Did they have financial problems? They each had their own bank account and a joint one they both paid a monthly sum into for general household expenses. Their mortgage was due to finish soon, in fact this summer. Being mortgage-free could open up all sorts of possibilities for the money they would be saving.
‘Shall we move house this year?’ she said, desperate to get him talking about anything that might give her a clue as to what was wrong. ‘The house value has gone up and with the extra money we could find somewhere out in the country. Not too far for you to commute obviously, but it would be lovely to live in the countryside.’
‘No, I don’t think we’ll be doing that,’ Jeremy replied, indicating before he took the slip road into the airport and then following the short-stay car park signs.
Once they’d parked, Jeremy took her case out of the boot and together they walked to Departures. Vivienne had checked in online but had to hand her suitcase in at the desk and Jeremy said he’d wait for her in the cafe across the foyer.
Five minutes later, a worried Vivienne joined him at the table he’d chosen in a quiet corner and carefully placed her laptop bag down before picking up her coffee and taking a sip. Jeremy, she noticed, had already drunk half of his and was fiddling with the spoon.
‘What’s this all about, Jeremy?’ she said as the silence between them lengthened. ‘You are starting to worrying me.’
‘Viv, I need to tell you something. Something that in one way I wish had never happened because of the hurt that it is going to cause you, the children and other people, but it has happened and I can’t deny it. Or walk away from it. Not that I want to.’ There was a pause as he took a deep breath before lookingVivienne straight in the eyes. ‘I have fallen in love with someone else and I’m leaving you. I’m sorry.’
A lengthy silence developed between them as Vivienne stared at him, open-mouthed in shock.
‘You’re having an affair?’ she said when she finally summoned the necessary strength to say the words.
‘It’s more than an affair. I want to be with her permanently.’
‘How long has it been going on?’
‘Six months or so. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t looking to… it just happened.’ He shrugged helplessly.
Vivienne, aching from the shock and hurt his words had unleashed in her, gave him a scornful look. ‘These things never just happen, Jeremy. A conscious decision always has to be made – the choice usually being between yes I will have an affair or no I won’t. There is always,always, a choice to do the right thing.’
There was a painful silence before Jeremy said quietly, ‘I’m doing the right thing for me. I’m telling you now so that while you are away on your own you’ll have time to adjust to the situation. To the idea of… of things being different when you return.’
Vivienne stared at him. ‘What things in particular?’
‘Me moving out. Selling the house. Divorcing. Us telling the kids, telling my mother.’
‘Stop right there. You are telling the kids and your mother. On. Your. Own. Your affair is yours to confess to. Alone. It’s your decision to break up the family, hurt the children and your mother in the process.’
Vivienne closed her eyes and rubbed her face, trying to conceal how shaken she was by Jeremy’s admission. She’d known this man for thirty-two years, lived with him for nearly thirty years, loved him, been faithful to him, born two childrenand never in all that time had she ever dreamed he could behave so cruelly, so selfishly, so impersonally towards her.
