The Woman At The Door by Daniel Hurst (books successful people read .TXT) 📕

‘What is going on here?’ I ask, throwing the shirt onto the kitchen table and taking a few steps towards Rebecca. ‘I thought we’d agreed that what happened last Saturday was just an unpleasant incident and that it didn’t mean anything.’

‘We did. But that was before I found another woman’s lipstick on your clothes.’

I look into my wife’s eyes, the eyes that are clouded by alcohol, and I have to believe that her current state of inebriation is not going to do me any favours as I try to talk this through rationally.

‘Have you been drinking?’ I ask, even though I know the answer. I just want to see if she lies to me.

‘Yes. I’ve had a few drinks.’

‘How many?’

‘I don’t know. Who cares? Just tell me how that lipstick got on your shirt!’

‘I have no idea, Rebecca!’

‘You’re lying to me!’

We’re both shouting now, and that’s never a good sign. That’s why I pause for breath and try to figure out how to stop this argument from escalating further.

‘Do you want me to cancel tonight? You’re obviously not in the right frame of mind, and I’m not really in the mood for it now either if I’m honest.’

‘No, I’m not cancelling. I want to go and see my friend. I also want my husband to tell me the truth!’

‘About what?’

‘About everything! The woman at the door! The lipstick. What’s going on?’

‘Nothing is going on!’

‘I don’t believe you!’

There. She’s said it. Now I know. My wife no longer trusts me. And why? Because of some lying bitch on our doorstep last week and a random lipstick stain which I genuinely have no idea about how it came to be there.

‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ I tell Rebecca as I sink into a chair. ‘I’ve never lied to you, and I’ve certainly never cheated on you. I don’t know what else I can do.’

‘You can explain things.’

‘How can I explain something if I don’t understand it?’

‘You need to do better than that!’

‘I can’t!’

Rebecca shakes her head and storms past me, where I presume she is on her way out of the kitchen. But she isn’t. She is going back to the fridge for another drink. I watch her crack the lid open on a can of vodka and tonic, which I guess is her drink of choice tonight, and she takes a long gulp before coming up for air.

‘I’m not going out with you if you’re going to be like this,’ I tell her, being honest like I always am. Maybe that’s my problem.

Maybe I should start lying.

‘You’re coming out because I’m not cancelling, and I’m not explaining why you couldn’t make it. So get yourself ready. But don’t think I’ve forgotten about this. I won’t forget about it until you tell me the truth.’

With that, Rebecca walks out of the room, taking her drink and her bad mood upstairs, where she is going to get ready for our dinner this evening. It’s a double date, but the idea is almost laughable right now because we are at war, so I hardly feel like playing happy couples with other people.

What should I do?

I guess I’ll take a leaf out of Rebecca’s book and have a look in the fridge.

If she’s drinking tonight, so am I.

18

REBECCA

I should have cancelled this dinner. I should have known it was going to be a disaster ever since the argument when Sam got home. But I foolishly kept the booking, and now I’m sitting in this restaurant opposite my best friend and her boyfriend while my husband sits beside me stewing in his bad mood. I’m not the only one who’s been drinking a little too much tonight. Sam had a few beers after I left him in the kitchen. I knew that when I came down an hour later and saw him sitting there with the empty cans in front of him.

Now we’re both drunk, and we’re both mad at each other.

We’ve somehow got to get through this meal without the people opposite us realising that.

While my marriage might be lacking right now, at least this restaurant is nice. It’s an Italian, and I’ve never been here before, but I’ve heard good things. So far, those things have been true. The service has been exquisite, the food has been divine, and the atmosphere in this room is warm. The company is good too. My best friend is called Ally, and her boyfriend’s name is Phil. I’ve been friends with her since school, and she’s been dating him since last summer. That’s only a few months, but by Ally’s standards, that’s a long time. It’s also a good sign that she is bringing Phil on a double date with us because it must mean that she is serious about this guy. And I can see why she might be. From what I can tell so far, Phil is a friendly and charming man who looks dashing in his smart blue shirt. But apparently, he’s not the only one.

‘I like your shirt, Sam,’ Ally says. ‘It’s very dapper.’

‘Thanks,’ Sam replies before taking a large glug from his pint glass. He’s going to need another drink soon if he keeps going like that, but I think that is the plan. I really hope he doesn’t get too drunk tonight and do something embarrassing, but then I’m in no position to criticise. I’ve been knocking the drinks back as well, and we’re only on our starter. There’s a long way to go in this meal yet, but it’ll be over quickly if hubby and I keep drinking like fish.

‘So, how’s your week been?’ Ally asks me. ‘Any funny things happen on site?’

‘Just the usual,’ I reply.

‘Ally tells me you’re an engineer,’ Phil says, looking impressed. ‘That sounds cool.’

‘I get to wear a bright green jacket and boss some men around on a building site. It could be worse, I suppose.’

Phil laughs at my joke, and Ally does the same. But Sam doesn’t. He just