Husband

Where are you going to say you were, to your husband? How are you going to account for yourself?

I’ll say I was at the gym, as usual. At exercise class. Or was working late.

Does he suspect? Surely he must suspect. He must have some sense that your mind’s elsewhere. And your body …

My body’s not elsewhere. I fuck him too.

Fuck. You’re so shameless.


How does he spend his time, anyway?

Consult. Put in funding bids. Zoom calls to Bulgaria and other half arsed nations. Tajikistan. Uzbekistan and the rest. Giving them advice. As if they haven’t got other problems.

What advice does he give them? What does he know about business?

He’s a professor of organisational management.

How could I forget?

He’s consulted with all kinds of people. He’s published a few things. He’s actually very productive.

Woo – productive!


What if I did leave my husband? What kind of life would I have? Who would we be together? What kind of couple would we make? How long before we’d just be like everyone else? How long would it be before we couldn’t bear one another?