“You want to wait behind the front door and club him to death when he comes home. Hold onto that impulse. I have a better idea. You’re coming to t...he office Christmas party this weekend, right?” I asked.She nodded, telling me that Barb’s insistence that he wouldn’t be there was torpedoed. “Yeah. My parents are taking the baby overnight. It’s the one night of the year that I really get to go out.”“Okay, make a point of talking to the people he works with. Ask them about how well he does. Tell. Mum ordered a cosmopolitan and I decided to take a Manhattan. We said cheers and drank on our lives and our love and whatever you drink on when you go out with your mum who you are sleeping with and who’s sex slave you voluntarily are. Finally the waiter led us to the table. It was a small round one on the wall, aside from the center so we would be not disturbed. I liked the restaurant. Although it was doubtless expensive and had this certain French restaurant in the US charm it was in some way. I remember thinking it did nothing for her; and she wears Chanel No. 5!" Oh my god, Simon, you can't possibly think that your father is having an affair with the deacon at the church? That's preposterous." Dunno, mum, but I know of a way of finding out. Do you remember Ted Bull, a guy who was at uni last year—he called round here a couple of times, and I did him one or two favors. He dropped out to start his own private detective agency. I think I might call in those favors." My mother looked. "You live alone?" (Better just check, right?)"My husband is away." Oh, you're married?" (Didn't see that coming.)She nods and rolls her eyes."Where's the ring?"A sly grin. "Honey, don't you listen? My husband is away. Not back till tomorrow ... Late tomorrow."Ok, fair enough. Won't be the first married piece I've done."Visiting his sick mother," she says, looking me right in the eye.I hold her gaze for a moment. I have a feeling she's testing me out. Then I shrug and say good for him. "Yeah,.
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