Kim—‘Yes. Shortsighted, small-minded, but natural.’
Sarah—‘Do you think Paul still loves me?’
Kim—‘I don’t think he fell out of love with you suddenly. But I don’t think he’s in love with you now. No. But it isn’t a sudden thing. It’s a gradual process. But he didn’t have the courage to just leave you. He had to have someone to move on to. He probably thinks you’ll crumble and he’ll get out of this losing very little.’
Sarah—‘I am crumbling.’
Kim—‘You are now. But you just wait. You’ll be fine, Sarah. Has he been to a solicitor?’
Sarah—‘He says no, but I think he has.’
Kim—‘What makes you think that?’
Sarah—‘I opened his post.’
Kim—‘Good girl. Have you been through his pockets, too?’
Sarah—‘Of course. I found receipts. That restaurant Tuffnells—you know, the romantic one round the corner from here where you can’t see what you’re eating? He took her there. And he’s taken her to Cambridge. Think he took her there when I was away on that trip to Brazil.’
Kim—‘Keep the receipts somewhere safe. How long does he say he’s known this girl?’
Sarah—‘He says it’s only recent, but I think it started in June.’
Kim—‘Methinks so, too. Rule of thumb is always double what they say. If they say three, it will be six. They think it will hurt less. Hurt them less. He’ll feel less guilty about hurting you, that is. Anyway, think of the positives, Sarah. You can have guilt-free sex with who you like now. Form a new relationship or not, as you choose. Have your own home. And you’ll probably see more of Paul’s money than when you were married to him.’
Sarah—‘I still am married to him, Kim.’
Kim—‘He wants a divorce. He’s told you there’s someone else, as he so coyly puts it. He’s a fool for telling you, of course, but at least you know the situation now. You know why he asked you to move out. You know his motivation—that he’s a devious little bugger. And now it’s a case of What Sarah does next. It’s your call now.’
Sarah—‘So much has been going through my head. Do I stay with him? Do I agree to the divorce? I’ve written a list of his good and bad points. I wanted to weigh up the pros and cons of trying to make it work or letting go. It’s here somewhere…’
I delve into my handbag, which is a mess of old receipts—some of which are Paul’s—train tickets, credit cards and used handkerchiefs.
Sarah—‘Here it is.’
Kim reads.
Arsehole tendencies:
Picks nose and eats bogies
Toxic farting during nights
Snores very loudly
Mean with money
Mean with me
Large car syndrome, small willy
Likes me to stick my finger up his bottom
Arrogant and boorish qualities becoming more apparent
Controlling with sexual favours—i.e. gives none—to me anyway
Has lousy taste in furnishings—soft or otherwise (house looks like gentlemen’s club)
Criticises the way I drive (unsurprising, perhaps, as crashed his Lotus two years ago)
Criticises the way I talk
Criticises the fact I don’t earn enough money
Criticises the way I don’t spend enough time with him (perhaps not include this one, as not relevant anymore)
Doesn’t praise me when I do something well
Doesn’t support me in my work
Has boring friends
Always leads when dancing and has lousy timing
Don’t like his family
Fussy with food
Hypocritical
Untidy and lazy in the house
Good tendencies:
Good when on holiday—fun to be with and funny
Good dad to Ben—gives lots of cuddles—except recently when very drunk. Ben would never go without
Have never loved anyone as much as I loved him.
No, doesn’t count. These are my feelings for him.
Not his qualities
Used to be considerate lover—doesn’t count. Notanymore. Delete this one. Only now counts, not past
Would never have money worries as controls all finances
Lovely eyes Lovely hands
Good dancer when not being held by him
Good cook if cooking without dairy or wheat
Tries hard in the garden
Sarah—‘I kept wanting to write things down that were in the past. His kindness. His sense of fun and romance. His spontaneity. But they aren’t relevant any more. Haven’t been for a long time. I always felt safe with him. I knew I could always trust him. But I couldn’t write those things down. Not now. Because they aren’t true now. Good stuff in the past doesn’t rectify what is happening now, and the arsehole tendencies outweigh the good almost two to one.’
Kim—‘Does he really eat his bogies? How disgusting. Finger up the bum thing, I understand. Jamie likes that, too.’
Sarah—‘Why the fuck did this man marry me, Kim?’
Kim—‘Well, the romantic view is that he loved you. Cynical view is that he thought he could change you and you were a good catch and he knew it.’
Sarah—‘To be fair, I thought I could change him, too. Our sexual relationship was never great even before we got married. I told you about the abortion I had when we’d been going out for nine months? Well, he never really recovered from that.’
Kim—‘So perhaps it wasn’t such a clever thing to do to tell him about the abortion you had with John, was it?’
Sarah—‘Okay. I know. But it was clean slate time, and it was also a possible opt-out for me.’
Kim—‘Why do you still want to be with him?’
Sarah—‘I don’t know. As I said, perhaps it’s a combination of guilt, the fact that I’m fundamentally loyal, and that there is still love there. Or perhaps it’s fear of the unknown.’
Kim—‘Not because of Ben, then?’
Sarah—‘Ben will be happiest if his parents have a happy marriage. If it’s not happy, he will sense it. So I don’t want to stay together for his sake. Paul will always see Ben—not as much as he thinks he will, but I will never stop him from seeing his son. Unless he starts to behave towards Ben the same way he does towards me. That’s different. But this issue is to do with Paul and me.’
Kim—‘You really think you still love him, don’t you?’
Sarah—‘I think it’s love. I fell in love with his soul when we first met, and the feeling’s still there. Would be so much easier to say it’s