Sarah Tucker - The Last Year Of Being Married

‘Felicity managed to squeeze £ 300,000 out of a marriage that lasted less than a year. Something unheard of in the industry. Pierce was happy as he had over three million in the bank, so a mere £ 300k was peanuts to him. But he didn’t think of it that way at the time. And, from what I hear, crashed a few cars and a few parties for a few months. I didn’t get my hands on the offshore funds, non-listed American stocks and miscellaneous works of art he bought for cash. I knew about them, of course, because I managed his books while we were married. But I didn’t care. I wanted to keep on good terms with Pierce post-divorce.

‘You see, Sarah, Pierce has a lovely, gentle side to him, and if I’d gone for everything—well, he would have hated me till the day he died. Anyway, I have enough. Money doesn’t make you happy. Too much and it ultimately makes you greedy for more.’

Jane drinks her coffee in one. And stands to leave.

Jane—‘I’ll get Pierce to call you. He’s always had a soft spot for you and he may be able to reach Paul on an emotional level. He might be able to reason with Paul. It might not be too late.’

Sarah—‘Thank you. Everything will be all right, won’t it?’

Jane—‘Yes, everything will be all right. But not immediately. You will go through denial, regret, anger, sadness, joy—the lot. It takes time. Sometimes years, sometimes decades. Some people—both men and women—never get over it.’

Jane’s mobile rings.

Jane—‘Sorry, Sarah—got to take this one. It’s important. Buying a house.’

To phone…

Jane—Hi, there. Yes. Yes. No. Tell them no. Don’t care what they say. Tell them no. Tell them that’s the offer or we walk away. Tell them for every week they refuse the offer we will drop by £ 5k. We’ll do that for four weeks and then walk away. Tell them to fuck off, then.’

Click.

Sarah—‘You don’t want the house, then?’

Jane—‘’Course I do. But don’t want them to know that. All a game, Sarah, all a game. Bit like divorce, really. If you can’t convince the opposition of your motives, confuse them. Got to go now, Sarah. Text Pierce. That’s the best way to reach him these days. And expect a call from Felicity. She’s good.’

Interesting character, Pierce. Equity salesman in the city. Earning, according to Paul, ‘a fucking fortune’. I met him through Paul. When he was still married to Jane. Paul invited them both for Sunday lunch. They came one Sunday in August. We ate outside. One of those rare hot summer days.

Paul cooked trout on the barbecue. I’d done the stuffed peppers dish from Delia Smith’s book that looks wonderful and is impossible to mess up. Paul had retrieved his guitar from the guest bedroom and had started to play his edgy rendition of ‘Stairway to Heaven.’

Pierce said he played a bit, and then proceeded to play Led Zeppelin. John Williams. Elton John. Brilliantly. Then he started to sing. Beautifully. He was amazingly multitalented. There was nothing that Pierce could not do with ease. With grace. Style. Flair. Tall, dark, handsome, brooding, he looked at me when I first met him at our front door as though he wanted to devour me. Paul reassured me he looked at all women that way. Disconcerting for Jane, I thought at the time.

But if anyone could handle Pierce it was Jane. She was amazing in her own right. She was incredibly talented, well-travelled, English degree at Oxford, and spoke five languages fluently—but unfortunately not even she could understand Pierce sometimes. Jane had boundless energy and enthusiasm for life, and she was still only thirty-four when I met her.

Only problem was, Jane was wife number three. And Pierce was then just thirty-six. Paul said Pierce had a dark side. Which I’d never seen. Pierce had seen counsellors, psychotherapists, spiritual healers, and none had worked. He talked in consultant-speak when he talked about relationships. He knew all the theory, but somehow couldn’t put it into practice.

He also had a reputation in the Square Mile for being rather sexually kinky and masochistic. Exploring the little shops in Soho for that must-have latest dildo or nipple clamp. Hey, whatever turns him on, I thought. He’s not harming anyone—except himself, of course. I ignored all this. It was all irrelevant. Jane said he would be a good contact, so I made contact. And anyway, he could keep me informed on how Paul was in the office, or if he had turned up in the office at all.

I sent a text message.

Message sent: Hi Pierce. It’s Sarah, Paul’s wife. Jane suggested Ishould call you. Can you talk?

Message received:

Yep.

Message sent:

Can you call me?

Phone rings.

‘Hi, Sarah, it’s Pierce.’

Sarah—‘Hi, Pierce. Thanks for calling. Jane suggested I contact you. Has Jane told you?’

Pierce—‘Yes. Not all of it, just the gist. I couldn’t believe it. Paul having an affair. Thought he would be the last person to ever have an affair. He dotes on you and Ben.’

Sarah—‘Well, I’ve had an affair, and we haven’t been happily married for some time. But I love him and don’t want to end the marriage. But he seems determined, and now—well, now he’s suggested Ben and I move out of the house.’

Pierce—‘Sarah, Paul is my friend, but I’m your friend, too. My advice is not to do that. Go and see a solicitor.’

Sarah—‘Yes, Jane has already said I should do that. And I will. But I want to save the marriage.’

Pierce—‘Moving out won’t save the marriage. I think this has gone too far. Can I ask, why did you have the affair?’

Sarah—‘It’s been a sexless marriage. And we didn’t have sex for most of the time we were going out.’

Pierce—‘It’s a personal question, but why?’

Sarah—‘Because I had an abortion early in our relationship, and Paul couldn’t cope with that. Then he couldn’t cope with an affair I had before we got married, and then—well, he couldn’t cope with an affair I had while we were married, and then he just couldn’t cope.’

Pierce—‘Sounds as though you both couldn’t cope.

But if you didn’t have sex, how come you had Ben?’

Sarah—‘A one-off. A wonderful one-off on holiday.’

Pierce—‘How did he find out about the affair? Did you tell him?’

Sarah—‘Told him on our honeymoon.’

Pierce—‘Not the best way to start a marriage.’

Sarah—‘I know. I know. I know. And then I had an-other affair with a journalist, two years ago, when I was away travelling.’

Pierce—‘And you told him about that, too?’

Sarah—‘No, he found that one out. Reading my e-mail.’

Pierce—‘So that broke him?’

Sarah—‘Yes, I suppose it did.’

Pierce—‘Very sad, then, isn’t it? For Ben?’

Sarah—‘Yes. But I’ve said sorry, and Paul said at the time he forgave me, and that was years back and now this. Now a new woman and he wants out.’

Pierce—‘Well, I understand why he wants out. But I also understand why you had the affairs. No one can live in a completely sexless relationship. Not as far as I’m concerned. I couldn’t. But you need to protect yourself, Sarah. And Ben. Get a solicitor and listen to what she says. Paul’s a nice guy, but he shouldn’t have suggested you leave the house. Especially not with Ben. He’s got to be fair. I gave Jane £ 300,000 as part of the settlement, and we were married for only a year. Plus, we don’t have children. You have Ben, and he needs to be looked after, and then there is your future. You won’t be able to work as much when he’s at school. Won’t be able to travel as much. So you’ll have to change or give up your career. There’s lots to think about.’