The Woodworker's Wife

I straightened, my back creaking in protest, my fingers stiff. I picked it up turning it over and over and then unlocking the cupboard placed it on the shelf with the other pieces I had yet to share with anyone.

An hour later I'd given the sideboard its final coat of polish and it was ready for the client. Zoe's studio was dark and I locked up mine and the building, setting the alarm.

The kitchen was warm and welcoming as were my two ladies who sat at the table. There were wonderful aromas coming from the Aga. I kissed Zoe and picked up my daughter. She laughed and wriggled in my arms as I pressed my face into her tummy and blew a raspberry.

"Isn't daddy silly," Zoe said, happiness suffusing her voice.

My daughter giggled as she looked down at me as I held her out. "I'm a big girl," she cried out.

"That you are beautiful." I held her close and she tucked her head on my shoulder and I could smell the hint of cinnamon in her hair.

"Have you been helping mummy with the baking?" I asked.

She looked across to Zoe who nodded, "It's a surprise for you, spidy...spicy buns, is that right mummy?"

"Oh how did you guess they were my favourites?"

She whispered in my ear, "Mummy told me."

Zoe came over and took Siobhan from me, "Daddy needs to have a wash and get changed, while we check on the buns."

I took the hint and took a quick shower and changed into clean clothes. As I stood on the landing looking down at Zoe and Siobhan, I realised it had been, all things considered, a very pleasant day.

~ ~ ~ ~ <> ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a week later that we first met Marcus. His arrival epitomised his character. A bright red Porsche sped up our drive scattering gravel in its wake. He screeched to a halt in the courtyard. He unfolded himself from the interior of the car and stood surveying his surroundings.

We came to the kitchen door and walked over to greet him. He was just over six foot tall, a smart looking man in a tailored suit. His face was thin, with brown eyes and a sharp nose, and capped with styled light brown hair. An elegant handsome man, who I guessed was in his mid-thirties.

He stood watching us approach; I could sense him accessing the pair of us.

"Hi, you must be Zoe," he said, "I'm Marcus." He held his hand out to her.

She shook it, "Nice to meet you," she replied. She gestured to me, "This is my husband, Dave."

I offered my hand and he took it briefly, "Oh that's right, you're the woodworker." Then he turned back to Zoe. I flashed her a surprised look and she shrugged.

"Shall we go in and sort the details out," Marcus said.

This time it was Zoe who gave me a surprised look. I unlocked the studios and switched off the alarm. Zoe showed Marcus into the office while I opened both of the studios. It took me a couple of minutes to set my workshop to rights and then I joined them in the office.

Zoe was shaking her head as I entered. I could sense the tension in the room. I flipped the coffee maker on and took a seat on the battered old sofa that sat in the corner.

"I'm sorry but it's a rule we have." She was saying. "I never have and never will do nude sittings outside of my studio, and even here I only will do them if Dave is around."

"Surely you can make an exception in my case," he said. "I'm a busy man and I have a flat near the office we could use. This place, as nice as it is, is over an hour's drive each way."

"Again I'm sorry but the reality is I don't need your commission. If you want me to paint you then it will be here."

Marcus turned and appealed to me, "You understand my position don't you?"

I shook my head, "I have to agree with Zoe, we made these rules for every one's safety."

He argued for another ten minutes but we didn't change our position. He kept offering more money.

"Compensation for your extra time and effort," he said.

Finally he accepted that he couldn't change her mind and that they would use Zoe's studio. She pencilled him into the appointments diary, and they agreed that she would start in a few weeks' time.

As I heard his car race down the drive I commented, "What an arsehole, why would you agree to paint him for Christ sake?" And I wondered why he wants a nude of himself.

"Because he's offering to pay me an obscene amount of money, that's why. But mind you he's intriguing, but definitely an arsehole."

~ ~ ~ ~ <> ~ ~ ~ ~

Over the next month our life followed its usual pace, but there was something about Marcus that kept rankling with me. Zoe wasn't concerned, but I kept wondered why Linda had suggested to Zoe that Marcus would be a suitable client.

Finally, curiosity got the better of me. On a day that Zoe was in Brighton delivering some canvases to a gallery, I gave Linda a call. When I mentioned Marcus's name she fell silent and then said that we needed to meet for lunch at the local pub.

She was already settled at a table in the corner when I arrived. She was sipping a glass of red wine, and had ordered a couple of rounds of sandwiches. I ordered a pint of best bitter and took it over to her and sat down.

I gave her a kiss on her cheek and said hallo. She looked deeply at me and then asked, "Has Zoe started painting Marcus yet?"

I shook my head and said no. "She's scheduled to start next week," I told her. "There's something about him that doesn't sit quite right."

"Watch him Dave, don't leave him alone with her," she said. "He's a charmer. He could charm a bird from the tree. I've learnt the hard way believe you me. You don't want to leave him alone with Zoe."

I gave her a concerned look, "What do you mean?" I asked.

"He's got a reputation as a womaniser. He's had at least three affaires with women from our offices in the past six months, and he doesn't care if he gets caught. One is getting divorced; the others are hanging on to their marriages by their fingernails."

I looked at her in surprise wondering why he still worked there and she replied to my unspoken question. "Because he's the nephew of the chairman of the board, that's why."

"Ohh. How the hell did he ever get to hear about Zoe?"

She didn't answer immediately; she sat there twisting the corner of a paper napkin around her fingers. Finally, she drew a breath in and said, "Dave it's all my fault." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please you need to promise me you'll never breath a word of what I'm about to tell you. You can't tell Paul or even Zoe. It would destroy him and end my marriage!"

This sounded so unlike her that I agreed and she looked sharply at me, "You promise?" I nodded.

She took deep breath in and then let it out. "He knows about Zoe because he saw her paintings of us in our bedroom while he was fucking me. I was one of his three affairs."

Of all the things she could have told me, this was the last I'd expected. I could see tears in the corner of her eyes.

"Dave, he was like a drug. I love Paul; I'd never contemplated an affair. It was like my mind was saying one thing and my body another."

"But I don't understand how did it happen?" I asked.

She sighed, "About three months ago we had to entertain some American customers up in town. I knew it was going to be a late night so Paul insisted I book a room. He didn't want me to have to travel back here late at night. God, I wish I had now. Don't ask me how but I ended up in bed with Marcus. I couldn't get enough of him and I don't understand why because he's only an average lover. Paul's so much better."

She spoke in a monotone; it was as if she was describing something that had happened to someone else. "I told him never again and I meant it. But a week later he walked into my office as I was working late and within a few moments he had me bent over my desk fucking me and I loved it. He just had to touch me and I was taking my nickers off. We carried on like that for almost two months; I think half the office knew something was going on between us."

I interrupted her monologue, "Linda, what about Zoe?"

She shook her head, "I'm getting to that. You remember six weeks ago, Paul was up north on that golfing weekend." I nodded; it had been his thirtieth birthday present from her.

"Marcus appeared at the house; fortunately the children were over at my sisters. He just walked in and made me suck him off in the hallway. He made me show him around and he saw those photos of the four of us on holiday last year. He wanted to know who Zoe was, so I showed him the paintings. The next thing I remember we were fucking on our bed. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was lying on the bed, his cum oozing out of me and I got a reality check. I looked around the room and all I could see was Paul and the children. I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid, it wasn't even great sex. I felt sick to my stomach and threw up all over the carpet, screaming at Marcus to fuck off."

"Why in god's name after all that would you recommend him to Zoe?"

She looked at me with anguish written across her face, "I'm so sorry Dave. The only way the arrogant bastard would leave me alone and not tell Paul about our affair was if I introduced him to her."

She held her hands out to me and I took them. "He wants her Dave; I can see it in his eyes. He says it's the painting he's interested in, but I don't believe him. The painting is just a means to an end, he'll pile on the charm and I don't think she'll be able to resist him."

"She won't be on her own with him, that I can promise you," I said. And I meant that, she might not realise what he was doing until too late, she could be too trusting.

"I've got to get back," she said. "I didn't intend to give you all the gory details, but you needed to know how easily he can get to her." She gestured to herself. "I'm the prime example of how charming he can be. I guess he's already trying to get her on his own?"

"He tried but she shot him down. There were a couple of awkward instances in the early days. Now she won't paint male models unless it's in the studio and I'm close by."

"Good, if she can keep him at arm's length for long enough, he'll get bored and look for easier prey. He's got the attention span of an insect. Just let me know when he's coming. I don't want to be around in case he takes it in his mind to try and see me again."

She stood up, gave me another kiss and left. I sat back and finished my pint trying to work out my options. In the end I didn't have many. It came down to two. Try to convince her to drop the commission and if that didn't work watch him like a hawk.

I set about the first part that evening but I fell afoul of her other trait that only very rarely raises its ugly head. She can be as stubborn as a mule on occasions. She'd somehow convinced herself that she was doing this, partly as a favour for Linda, and partly because it was her biggest commission to date.

"We don't need the money," I said, "and in any case I've been hearing some odd things about him."

I gave her a much-edited version of Linda's tale. I made it sound like it was one of Linda's work colleagues that Marcus had been hitting on.

Zoe gave me a long studied look. Then she said, "I'll be fine, just stay in earshot while he's around." She paused, "I'll try to cut his sittings down to the bare minimum, I can probably get away with half a dozen, maybe only five if I'm very lucky."

I nodded, that was probably the best I could hope for.

~ ~ ~ ~ <> ~ ~ ~ ~

Marcus just laid the charm onto Zoe the next time we met him. I had hoped that I'd be able to limit her exposure to him to just the sessions in her studio which I intended to control. Unfortunately, fate reared its ugly head and decreed that wasn't to be the case.

There was a dance that Saturday at the golf club and we had gone with Linda and Paul. Zoe was beautiful in a classic LBD, it was simple yet elegant. The hem fell a couple of inches above her knees. Underneath I knew she wore my favourite black lingerie with its matching garter belt and seamed silk stockings.

I didn't mind dancing, especially with Zoe but neither I nor Linda was in Zoe or Paul's class. There was usually a point in the most evenings when we would step back and give our partners their heads and let them demonstrate their skills, while we talked and watched. Zoe was in her element, floating gracefully across the floor.

It was about ten-thirty when I had my first inkling that something was wrong. Linda went as pale as a ghost and started shaking.

"Oh fuck no, no, he can't be here," and she looked around her in desperation.

I glanced around the room and saw to my disquiet that Marcus was standing at the bar with a blonde woman and another couple I vaguely knew from somewhere.

"What's he doing here?" I asked.

"I've no idea, he not a member, he must have come as a guest of the Peterson's."

That's who they were, Roger and Lydia Peterson, they had bought one of my very early pieces, a sideboard. "Who's the woman with him, is it his wife?"

"No, I think she's Lydia's sister. Look can you get Paul for me. We need to go; I just don't trust myself around him. Marcus's so bloody arrogant; Paul will know something happened between us if he comes over."

"Wait here, Marcus can't see you from where he is. I'll go and fetch them. I'll tell Paul you're sick and you need to go. The way you look at the moment he'll believe it."

We both watched Marcus while we talked. He kept casually looking around. Then when he saw Zoe dancing with Paul he smiled a hunter smile. He started to move in their direction but stopped when he saw me casually walking across the floor to them, sidestepping the other dancers. I tapped Paul on the shoulder.

He looked a bit surprised, he knows I'm not the world's greatest dancer and usually I'm content to sit out the dances. It's rare that I would ever cut in when they were in full flow.

"Are you cutting in Dave?" He said.

I shook my head, "No, not that I wouldn't want to dance with my lovely wife. But Linda's not feeling well; I think she needs to go home." They both turned to look at her.

"Christ she looks rough," Paul said, and we all headed back over to her.

Linda quickly convicted Paul that they had to leave. We would have gone as well but Zoe needed to speak to a couple of our friends first.

"I just need half an hour," she said, "Then we can go. Can you get me a drink while I find Geraldine?"

"I think I saw her on the terrace a little earlier," I offered.

"Thanks," she said as she headed out in that direction.

The bar was busy so it took me fifteen minutes to get our drinks. Then an old college mate waylaid me as I started to look for her. It took me another ten minutes to get away from him and resume my search for her. I looked around the room and couldn't see her or Geraldine, nor could I see Marcus. Linda's words rattled around my head. Don't let him be alone with her.

The terrace I remembered and walked outside. The terrace was dotted with tables and chairs, lit by flickering candle light. It took my eyes a moment to adapt. At first I didn't see her and then I saw her sitting by Geraldine at a table over in the corner half hidden by a conifer in a pot. I must admit I felt myself relax as I walked over, only to tense up as Marcus came into view sitting on the other side of Zoe. He'd been hidden by the damn conifer. His hand was casually resting on Zoe's arm and she was laughing at something he'd just said.

He must have seen me approaching as his hand unhurriedly fell to his side and he pushed his chair away from Zoe. I think he would have liked to have made his excuses and leave before I finished weaving around the intervening tables. Unfortunately he'd managed to box himself into a corner and had nowhere to go.

I placed the drinks on the table and pull up a chair from a nearby table and squeezed in between Zoe and Geraldine. It put me opposite Marcus and he shuffled in his chair to face Geraldine.

I said hi, and kissed Geraldine on the cheek, and Zoe took my hand and squeezed it. The table fell silent.

There was a short pregnant pause before Marcus broke the silence. "I came looking to find you, but I found these two beautiful women first." I looked a tad surprised and Geraldine's expression must have mirrored mine.

"Oh," I said. Not my wittiest option but I was intrigued to see where this was going.

"I was over at the Peterson's for dinner earlier this evening," he carried on. "And I saw that amazing sideboard they have. Lydia was telling me you made it."

I nodded, "That's right, it's one of my earlier student pieces," I couldn't help adding, "Not bad for a woodworker."

Marcus choose to ignore the comment, "I'd like to commission something similar for my place in town. What would the damage be?"

I smiled at him; I wasn't interested in a commission from him, which is why I said what I said next. "If I were to even consider it, you're looking at something in excess of £35,000, with a ten grand non-refundable deposit, and a delivery date at least two years down the line." Not that I was ever going to make him anything. When the first question is how much, I'm usually not interested in producing anything for them.

I think that's the point when this all turned from being a bit of fun for him into a serious game with Zoe as the prize. I know I regretted being as blunt as I was.

"That's a lot of money for a just a piece of furniture," he commented. Then shifting to face Zoe said, "I'm looking forward to starting with you next week, I do so admire your work."

Zoe blushed. Like a lot of artists I know, she's very humble about her own work. She finds it difficult to believe that people like it as much as they do. It also makes her vulnerable to praise. I watched her as Marcus carried on commenting on her pieces he'd seen. He'd done his homework as he said just the right things; she went from embarrassed to happy with a hint of adoration in the space of a minute or so. I knew I had a fight on my hands.

Geraldine came to my rescue, she announced that she needed to 'powder her nose' and took Zoe with her. I'm a man; can someone tell me why it is the women don't seem to be able to go to the bathroom on their own when they are out in public. This time I didn't care as it got Zoe away from Marcus, and from the look on Geraldine's face she was about to have a quiet word with Zoe.

I could sense that Marcus wanted to carry on talking to Zoe, but I had decided that he'd done enough damage for the evening. I said our goodbyes and headed indoors to intercept Zoe on her return.

I found her and Geraldine near the corridor to the rest rooms. Zoe was looking rather embarrassed as Geraldine gestured animatedly as she spoke to her. Geraldine fell silent as I approached and Zoe hugged her and then came over and hugged me.

"Can we leave please?" She asked. She turned to Geraldine, "Come and see me on Monday please." Geraldine agreed and we left.

I glanced back and saw Marcus by the doorway to the terrace watching us leave. I gave him a wave and then I wrapped my arm around Zoe, resting my hand on her bottom. She moved in closer and put her arm around my waist.

"I love you," I whispered into her ear.

"I know you do, and I don't deserve you."

We'd reached the car and I turned her to face me. "I've loved you from the first day we met. You are everything to me. Every night I fall asleep grateful for another day with you and Siobhan."

She buried her face into my chest and I heard her whisper, "I love you so much it hurts."

We drove back home in silence, her hand delicately caressing my thigh. I paid the babysitter, Jane, the eighteen-year-old daughter of our next door neighbours. I drove her home, as although she lived next door, next door was a farm half a mile down the road.