We had been married about two years and things were going great when he lost his job. I was working, but only a mundane shop job that paid peanuts. We had just about enough money to eat. There was no way I could stretch my income to pay the bills that dropped through the letter box with frightening regularity.
Perhaps I should give you a bit of background. Andrew was my first boyfriend. We met while I was still at school and it soon developed into a wonderful relationship. We loved each other so much and we got married after a few years. I was just eighteen and so naïve, but he soon taught me the way to be a good wife. He had previous girlfriends and some of them were quite wild, if all the things he wanted me to do were anything to go by. I didn't mind that he had previous experience, as one of us needed to have some knowledge didn't we?
My sex education was nothing more than we were taught in class at school and a little playground tittle-tattle, girly gossip. I, of course, knew what I needed to do and I quite looked forward to married life.
Following the loss of his job he tried to find work. Day after day he sat at the computer following every lead, going for interviews several times a week. He had protected the mortgage by insurance so that wasn't a problem, and from our savings we could last a few more months, but money was getting tighter every day.
I economised on food and stopped buying any kind of extras; not a drop of wine passed my lips for weeks. He lost his car it was part of his salary, so we only had my old banger, it needed some repairs to make it suitable as the family car.
He took it to the local garage and asked them to fix it for him, as he had to have it on the road to get to interviews. We lived in a rural village, no trains, no buses, just our own transport, so it was absolutely essential he had a car.
He came home with the car but he didn't say anything at all. I asked him if it cost much but he fobbed me off with excuses. I just thought he was upset at his inability to find work and be the man he expected himself to be. He was a bit old fashioned, he thought of himself as the breadwinner. There was nothing wrong with that. I respected him as a man and as my husband. Weeks went by, but still no job. By now he was getting desperate and applying for jobs way below his capability, but still nothing.
One day we were trying to work out our finances when there was a knock at the door. It was a warm summer's evening and I was wearing a sun suit - just a pair of pink towelling shorts and a marching bra top. It was mostly like a bikini, just bigger pants and sort of fun rather than sexy. It was several years old, as new clothes were the furthest thing from my mind.
I got up and went to the door; it was the local mechanic and his bookkeeper, or accountant as he liked to be called.
"Is Andrew in, Chrissie? He asked. "
"Yes come in," I answered, and held the door open for them to enter.
The look on Andrew's face when he saw them told me something was seriously wrong. He looked as if he was going to be sick.
"Why don't you come through and sit at the kitchen table?" I offered, as I cleared our paperwork out of the way.
"Sorry Andrew," began George, the mechanic. "I know you are having a hard time of it at the moment, but I can't wait any longer for my money. I fixed your car under the agreement you would pay it off in a month at the most, but it's now three months and I haven't had a penny from you." George looked seriously concerned. "If you can't pay I shall have to take your car and sell it. Of course any surplus I will give back to you, but that's really the bottom line."
He asked for the keys and vehicle documents.
"I've got an important interview tomorrow," said Andrew. "And I can't get there without the car. Can you give me a little more time to pay?"
"I can't do that." George was quite adamant, "It's either the cash now, or the car."
I felt quite uncomfortable sitting there in my sun suit. The accountant chap was eyeing me up and down quite openly. It was both embarrassing and suggestive. I made an excuse to leave the room and ran upstairs, changing into a summer dress, not as revealing as my sun suit. I needed a little time to consider our predicament. How on earth were we going to get out of this one? We had juggled money and robbed Peter to pay Paul for months. There just wasn't anything left in the kitty.
I sat on the bed for a while thinking about it, but realised I had left Andrew on his own down there long enough. After all I am his wife, and no matter that he didn't tell me, I still needed to show him my support.
I came downstairs and walked into the room, all eyes on me as if I had come from outer space. I felt the tension in the room. I didn't sit down but offered everybody a cup of coffee. They all accepted so I had my back to them for a while at least, but even then air felt thick, as if something was amiss.
Coffee made and served, I took my place at the table again and asked if they had reached a solution.
"Well we've come up with a proposal that would clear his debt to us," said George, "But you two will need to talk about it. We will go out to my car and await your decision."
He took his coffee but left the paperwork on the table, I looked at it. The bill was for three thousand pounds. How on earth did George think we were going to be able to pay that off in a month, even if Andrew got another job?
I was so angry with Andrew, the first time in our relationship I had even been really angry. I let him have it both barrels, right between the eyes.
"Sorry darling that's not the worst of it. The only way he will let me keep the car is if you will fuck him right now, tonight, and his mate wants to film the whole thing."
"He has promised not to show it to anyone else but what do you think?"
