The Woodworker's Wife

"The table's booked for eight. Jane will be here at seven."

I looked at her and a thought flitted across my mind. "I'm intrigued," I said, "What would you have done if I'd said no."

She hesitated for several long seconds before answering. "Then I would have called to cancel," she said firmly. Not call to accept I noted, that meant she'd already accepted the invite.

"Zoe I warn you, any funny business and I'm walking out!"

The Hungry Monk is a favourite restaurant of ours and is about half an hour's drive away. So I was ready just after seven and let Jane in when she arrived. Zoe came downstairs fifteen minutes later. She looked amazing in a red cocktail dress that was form fitted to her top and flared at the skirt. It was less than a year old and I'd bought it for her to wear at last year's New Year's party. This was only the second time she had dared to wear it. She wore four-inch heels and black stockings to complete the mind-blowing package. My problem was, is she dressed like this for me or Marcus?

Zoe can read me like an open book. "This is for you and you only. I want you to be proud of me, love." She said as she held her arms out to me.

She hugged me tightly and we kissed, Jane clapped her hands in appreciation.

My apprehension grew as we drew close to the restaurant. Zoe could sense my discomfort and she chatted on about a range of inconsequential items. When we arrived we sat for a few moments in the car. She turned in her seat to face me and taking my hand, placed it under her dress at the top of her thigh, at the junction of silky stocking and soft skin.

"This is my promise to you," she whispered, "This is yours and only yours. When you want to go, we go, do you understand?"

I nodded and swallowed nervously.

We were the last to arrive; there is no room at the tiny bar at the restaurant so the others were already seated at the table. It appeared that Marcus organised the seating arrangements to suit his pursuit of Zoe. It was a rectangular table laid for six. Marcus was sitting in the middle seat on the far side with the woman we'd seen him with at the golf club dance seated to his left. Lydia was sitting opposite him and Roger was to her left, leaving only the two opposite corners for us.

It was obvious that Marcus expected Zoe to sit next to him, as the first thing he said was, "If you sit here Zoe, we can keep the boy, girl sequence going."

"Damn it, not going to happen Zoe," I muttered under my breath and my hand tightening its hold on hers as she started to move to his side. I was fucked if I was going to let him monopolise her all evening.

"I warned you, he's playing games. Let's go, I'm not staying," I said softly for only her to hear and started to turn away.

Zoe stopped moving towards the seat and turned her head to look at me with a nervous expression on her face. Lydia came to my rescue; she saw the look of thunder on my face and the hesitation in our steps.

She stepped in quickly. "Marcus you can't do that, you're separating our two lovers here. Marcus darling if you take this seat," and she patted the vacant seat beside her. "David can take yours and Zoe the one beside him and then everything is sorted."

Marcus didn't have a choice, not to move would have made him look churlish. His lips tightened as he gracefully stood and moved around to the proposed seat. Zoe and I took our seats and Lydia introduced Marcus's companion to us.

"This is Sylvia, my sister. She and Marcus are old friends, they went to Cambridge at the same time."

Sylvia said, "Zoe, Marcus's been telling us all about the amazing painting you're doing of him. I'd love to get the chance to see it. You must be so proud of your wife David."

"It's Dave," I said smiling, "and yes I'm proud of all of Zoe's work, not just this piece. She an amazing artist and mother. She is very talented."

Zoe squeezed my hand and gave me a grateful look. She said, "It's Dave who's the master craftsman. I just wish I was as skilful with my hands as he is with his."

Lydia said, "Yes, Sylvia darling, you've seen our lovely sideboard. Well Dave's the one who created it."

I smiled gratefully at her, "I should thank you Lydia, and it was one of the first pieces I ever sold. It has a couple of flaws I'd love to get the opportunity to fix."

"Never," she said, "It's those little flaws that make it perfect."

The evening passed reasonable smoothly from that point with me ignoring Marcus as much as I could get away with. The saving grace was that food was up to its usual standards, and I enjoyed Lydia and Roger's company. The table was just the right size that no one needed to raise their voices to be heard. Marcus seemed to take care that he spoke directly to Zoe no more than he did to anyone else at the table. He even tried to include me in his conversations. He still hoped that he could convince me to create a piece of furniture for him.

When the desserts were being served I swapped seats with Zoe so she could continue a conversation with Sylvia without talking over me. She rubbed her thigh against mine and dragged her fingertips along my inner thigh. She talked animatedly to Sylvia and Marcus about her plans to submit her work next year to the royal academy. Her lips curled into a smile as she felt my fingers work their way up her silk covered thigh beneath her dress.

We took our coffee seated by the inglenook fireplace in the bar. Marcus was sitting next to Sylvia on a cosy old sofa opposite the rest of us. As I returned from a trip to the bathroom I could see them looking at Zoe and talking quietly. I paused and stood hidden from their view behind an ancient Oak post beam to one side of them and listened.

Sylvia bent her head close to his and said in a low voice. "She's a cute one, not your normal style."

I froze, not wanting to breathe as I waited to hear his reply.

"I suppose she isn't, she's pretty enough. She was just a game to start with. It's the painting I want."

"I still don't understand why?"

"I saw a pair of her canvases recently; they were hanging on the wall of my lover's bedroom. It made me want to strip and ravish her. She has a skill in bringing out the raw sensuality of the subject. With one of those hanging on the wall of my flat I shouldn't have any problems getting them into my bed to see if reality matches the artists view point."

"You mean Linda's bedroom you sly dog. But you said Zoe wasn't your type to start with, what's changed? Do tell."

"She's sweet and fun to be with, and she grows on you. She's so easy to manipulate. She won't even know what I'm doing until I'm cock deep in her."

She gave a little laugh at his comment.

"Plus her husband's an arrogant little shit and it'll be fun when he finds out I'm fucking his wife.

"I think he's wise to you from the evidence of tonight Marcus."

"Maybe, it shouldn't be a problem though. I've been convincing her that his jealousy is centred on her success, and his reaction to me is a gut reaction to my support of her. It's a win-win for me."

"Ohh, sneaky Marcus."

I'd heard more than enough so I backed away and approached the group from the other side. Linda didn't want to talk about the story of her infidelity, but it seemed Marcus was happy to discuss it. I think I need to reconsider my promise not to tell Zoe.

I was surprised to see that it was almost eleven by the time we rose from our seats to leave. Roger and Lydia tried to invite us back to their place for a nightcap. Sylvia and Marcus were staying at their place. I could see that Zoe was interested, but I wasn't, especially after what I'd overheard and I'd caught Marcus's expression of hope as he heard the Peterson's trying to change my mind.

As I was driving I'd limited myself to a couple of glasses of wine all evening, Zoe had drunk considerably more and was in a happy place. In the car Zoe reclined her seat and pulled her dress up around her waist. She spread her thighs and took my hand and placed it on the damp crotch of her black lacy panties, her pussy was mine and I was going to prove it. Thank god for automatics. I was able to play with her the whole trip. Pushing the wet fabric to one side and sliding my fingers inside her.

She rocked against my hand, holding it tight against her with one hand and pinching her nipples with her other. Unintelligible moans announced her orgasm.

When we arrived home she stood by the car and straightened her dress. She looked at me with her loving eyes. "I told you that this was just for you," and she ran her hands down her body.

Jane was half asleep on the sofa so Zoe showed her the spare bedroom next to Siobhan room. I took my wife to our bedroom and stripped her naked except for her garter belt and stocking. We ravished each other until she begged me to stop.

~ ~ ~ ~ <> ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning Jane dropped Siobhan off at the kindergarten for us. I tried to talk to Zoe about how I felt about Marcus and that she needed to be careful around him. But she wasn't interested and seemed to get upset that I kept bringing it up.

"I'm sorry Dave but that's not the Marcus I see," she told me.

I retreated to my workshop as I had a lot to do on the bookcase. But before I started I had to check out her account.

His text after the meal was interesting: Hubby was being extra boorish last night wasn't he. Told you he's jealous.

She replied: He wasn't jealous, just annoyed with you, but do you blame him. What were you thinking?

What do you mean?

I told you he wouldn't be happy with the invite. I had to work hard on him to accept and then you stupidly tried setting it up like that in order to get me to sit next to you. It was so obviously a set up. If Lydia hadn't stepped in he would have left.

And would you have gone with him.

I would have had no choice, I love him.

He didn't reply to that one.

I logged off and started working. I was busy when Marcus arrived. Zoe stuck her head through the door to tell me he was here and she propped both sets of doors open.

I was definitely nervous after what I'd just read and overheard the night before. So I tried to keep the noise down so I could hear what they were saying. I glanced in several times but I heard or saw nothing untoward. In fact there was very little conversation, from the look of him; they must have carried on drinking into the wee hours of last night after they had got to the Peterson's.

I wasn't aware of him leaving. The first I knew was when Zoe tapped me of the shoulder. I switched off the router and she brushed the sawdust from my hair.

"He's gone," she said.

"Did he give you any problems," I asked.

She shook her head, "Nope, other than being worried that we won't get finished on time, I've slotted in another appointment for tomorrow afternoon."

"Don't forget its half term next week and we have plans."

"Umm, yes. I'm going to prepare lunch. We can discuss our plans for next week then. Fifteen minute ok?"

I nodded and she left. Her response worried me and I decided to check her appointments diary.

She had him pencilled in for the session on Friday afternoon she'd mentioned, that was fine. It wasn't until I turned the page to the following week that my heart sank. She had sessions booked for him every afternoon for the whole of next week, but that couldn't be right! It was half term and I know that only last week both of our diaries had been clear. Ever since Siobhan had started school we had kept half term week free so we could indulge her. I took her diary with me when I went indoors for lunch. Marcus and the painting were becoming an obsession with her; he was obviously working his charms on her.

I didn't need to say anything when I placed the diary on the table in front of me.

She looked up from the salad she was dressing and saw the book on the table. Her hands stopped moving, "Dave, I know what you are going to say but I had to put the extra sessions in for next week. I've only got ten days to finish it. It's important that I get it done and I did promise Marcus it will be finished on time."

"So neither I nor your daughter are important?"

"You're not being fair; you know the pair of you are important to me. Please Dave, you could keep Siobhan occupied, and I'll join you later in the day."

I said, "It is fair, and you damn well know it. You knew for weeks it was half term next week and we'd made plans. I kept my schedule clear and I'm closing the workshop for the week as we agreed."

I was seething; there was just no way I was letting him be with her on his own. I could kiss my marriage goodbye if I did because infidelity was the one thing I couldn't accept.

"I need the time to finish the painting, she'll understand."

I shook my head, "She won't and you know it. She's been talking about it for weeks. I've already booked the hotel in London for three nights and we are booked in to Euro Disney for the rest of the week just like we discussed. So just how are you going to join us? Look if you won't tell him I will. There are no penalty clauses in our contracts so it doesn't matter if you take next week off."

"But can't you see it from my point of view. I've promised to finish it on time, and I don't want to let him down," she said.

I lost my temper, "For fuck's sake Zoe, so it's ok to let you family down, but not him. What's more important, your family, that bloody painting, or is it something else?"

I'd had enough. I walked out of the kitchen calling back over my shoulder.

"I'll be in the workshop. Let me know what you decide, but I'm taking next week off to be with Siobhan with or without you. And if you do decide to stay I think it would be better off all round if you weren't here when we get back."

She moaned in horror and disbelief when she heard what I was saying. I think Zoe was now realising how dangerous the whole situation was. Tears flooded into her eyes as she saw the consequences of her obsession with Marcus and the painting. Had she lost everything she held dear?

I wasn't sure I'd done the right thing giving her that ultimatum. But I knew I needed to give her a good hard dose of reality. I honestly didn't know what else I could do. I sat in the office and found the bottle of whiskey I kept in the filing cabinet. Alcohol and sharp tools don't mix, but this time I needed a stiff drink. I poured a decent measure into a glass and sitting down on the sofa sipped at it. The stupid thing was I knew she loved me, but Marcus and his damn painting seemed to be a drug to her, and she couldn't see it.

It must have been a good hour and a half before Zoe's tear stained face appeared in the doorway.

"Can we talk please?" she said. I nodded and she came and sat down beside me.

"Dave, I love you; please tell me that you love me." She said and held out her hand. I took it and gave it a squeeze. She wrapped her arms around me and we kissed.

After we had pulled apart she said, "But I don't know what's wrong with me. I know what I should be doing, yet every time I talk to him I seem to make the wrong decision."

"So, did you come to a decision?"

She whispered, "Yes."

"Did you talk to him?"

Again she whispered, "Yes."

I sat there twisting my wedding ring around my finger. Her eyes were drawn to my motion and she went white.

"And?" I said softly.

"I told him sorry but we have plans for that week and we wouldn't be here." I felt the breath I didn't know I'd been holding in, escape my lips in relief.

Then she carried on, "He wanted to know where we would be..."

"It's none of his damn business where we will be," I retorted.

"Sorry, I didn't think it mattered if he knew."

"So what did you tell him?"

"That we are staying at the Hilton, Park Lane Monday through to Thursday and then Euro Disney until Sunday, that's all."

I knew her so well that I watched her carefully, and there was something more and I could see she didn't know how to broach it.

"Zoe, there's more isn't there?"

"Please, Dave, don't get mad, but he called back a little while ago with a suggestion."

Which is?"

"He wanted to know what our plans are for London."

I had a sinking feeling where this was going. "What's his suggestion then?"

"He says he can get access to a studio in London I could use. I could spend a couple of hours each afternoon we're in London working on the painting, and maybe one or two evenings after she's gone to bed."

"Oh, for Christ's sake Zoe!" The anger in my voice was obvious.

"I told him it wasn't a good idea; I didn't say yes, I said I'd ask you." She looked at me with a hint of desperation.

I counted to ten in my mind; I needed to because I was so close to telling her to fuck off.

I could almost hear what he'd been saying to her. 'If he loves you then of course he'll agree, if he doesn't then it proves he's jealous of you'. Fuck, I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't. He was a master at manipulating the situation.

"Christ, is this damn painting that important to you that you want to risk our relationship - our marriage? I don't understand why this week is so important to Marcus. Sure I want you to finish it but there's no need for you to do it next week, or is it more than the painting Zoe?"

"No," she almost screamed, "Nothing is more important to me than you and Siobhan."

"Then prove it! I don't know why you are asking me. This is your decision, I've made mine." As far as I could see this was my only option. I needed her to make the decision.

Her face fell and she took several deep breaths. "Then I'll tell him no."

"If that's your decision." My voice was full of sarcasm.

"It is."

I looked at her and said in a clipped tone, "Thank you."

She threw herself into my arms, kissing me. "I love you so much it hurts."

Early the next morning I took the opportunity to check her folder.

Her call log showed that she had called him soon after I had first walked out, and the call had lasted five minutes. He had called her back an hour later for ten minutes. In-between the calls there was one to Geraldine's office and a second to her mother.

In the hour between the calls he texted saying: Please answer my call. I have a compromise that should work for both of us. I will call in a few minutes to explain.

(It was interesting to be able to fill in the missing parts of that conversation).

She replied: What part of I'm not putting my marriage at risk for a painting do you not understand. Dave is adamant if I don't go with them then it's over for us.

After the call from him he texted again: I don't understand why you won't ask him, it's the perfect solution. How can we arraigning for you to spend a couple of hours each day painting while hubby looks after your daughter be putting your marriage at risk. Or is it that shaky?

It wasn't until I meet you. You're nice person but I'm not interested in you like that. I hadn't realised how much you were interfering. Stop texting me it's not going to happen, I love Dave.

At least ask him or I will.

No that could make the situation worse. He's not going to change his mind but if you insist I'll talk to him.

The text from her after our discussion was brief and to the point: I asked, he said no. Don't contact me again.

~ ~ ~ ~ <> ~ ~ ~ ~

She told him her decision when he arrived on Friday afternoon. He arrived fifteen minutes early and we were both sitting comfortably on the sofa eating our lunch - a plate of sandwiches.

As soon as he walked in he said, "It's all confirmed Zoe. Let me give you the address. It's a friend's flat with an attached studio. He flies to the States on Sunday and has given me the keys. I've booked a van on Monday to come and pick up your equipment and the canvas and deliver it."