Ted and Kate
will gossip kill a marriage.
I arrived home at 7pm after a three-day trade show in Brisbane. It's only a one-hour flight but you have to be at the airport and hour beforehand and then the trip from Sydney airport to our home in a small town to the west of Sydney in the Blue Mountains meant two trains, a hassle but less stressful than driving in Sydney's rush hour. I had told my wife, Kate when to expect me and I hoped she would have a cold beer and a hot meal ready as usual for my return.
I'm Ted by the way, age 42 and married to Kate also age 42 for the past 20 of those years. We are both what you would call average in looks both having dark brown hair, mine cut in a standard "short back and sides" and Kate's just over her shoulders. Neither would win any beauty contests but neither would we be considered ugly, far from it, as I said, pretty average. I am six foot and have a slight, even skinny build which I maintain by visiting the gym regularly. Kate is five foot nine and, after two children has managed to retain a slightly voluptuous figure, which is kept by joining me at the gym. We both also spend a lot of time walking the many trails in the area. Both of us are what you may call outgoing types of people. We have twin daughters both in uni in Canberra, 200km's away, and sharing student accommodation in the town. They come home about every second weekend as it's only just over a two-hour drive. I am a sales rep with an electrical goods supplier of cables and switches to the building trade I sell to retail electrical shops and to tradespeople on sites. Kate works for a small publishing house as a graphic designer and mostly works from home with only occasional forays into the city. We have had our ups and downs during our marriage but never anything serious and tried to follow the old adage of not letting the sun go down on an argument. Our love life was, to be honest, probably in a bit of a rut and I think we both knew it but didn't know how to voice it. We both found it difficult to talk about such things so have tended to let it slide. In retrospect, not a good idea. One thing I was sure of is that we loved each other.
Have you ever entered a house and had a feeling that it was empty, no-one home. Still, I called out "Kate, I'm home." Silence pervaded the house, so I dropped my bags and went searching through the lounge, kitchen, bedrooms and Kate's office. Nobody in so I went out to the back garden, where she had a beautiful collection of roses, thinking she might be there. No sign. I went back inside and looked to see if she had left a message and on finding none, I rang her mobile phone. It went to voice mail, so I left a message asking her to call me. It was most unusual for her not to be home when I got back from a trip, we miss each other and feel the need to reunite when I return, usually in bed.
I got a beer from the fridge and started to unpack my suitcase and put the dirty washing in the laundry and my briefcase in the corner of the family room where I have a desk, Kate's work takes up the whole of the bedroom we converted into an office.
After the beer I again called Kate's phone and left another voice mail. I was beginning to be a little concerned as this was so out of character for her. We had spoken the day before and everything seemed normal and happy. I had told her which train I would be home on so I thought she would be waiting as always.
I was concerned enough by nine-thirty to call her boss who lived in the city, thinking she may have gone to the office and gotten held up. She had spoken to Kate a few days ago but not seen or heard from her since. I next called our local hospital, but she was not there. By now I was worried enough to call her parents who lived in the next town eight km's away. I didn't want to worry them, but I was concerned by her silence, hoping she hadn't had an accident.
What they told me rocked me to the core. Kate had told them I was cheating on her and had gone to stay with a friend, Debbie, in Sydney. She intended to get her own back on me. They could not tell me where this friend lived, only that they were at uni together, that was 20 years ago, and I knew she kept in touch with a couple of those friends, I had even met them on occasion but did not have any of their addresses or phone numbers. I went through her desk hoping to find some contact details for them but came up empty-handed. I phoned her again and left her a message that I had never once cheated on her and asking what it was all about. I begged her to talk to me.
It was a long, lonely night. I'm not much of a drinker so didn't dive into a bottle but did not sleep much imagining what Kate might be doing and who she might be doing it with.
The next day was Friday and my boss had already told me that since I had been away all week I may as well spend the day at home to write my reports and come back in on Monday.
Friday dawned after a sleepless night and as I stumbled down to the kitchen for coffee, I again rang Kate but, again, no answer. I sent her a long text asking her where she got the idea that I was cheating and again told her that, whatever she had heard was totally untrue. I didn't think that either of us had any enemies, we got on with all of our neighbours and the local townspeople and went to BBQ's and events at many homes and hosted some ourselves.
Due to the shock of not finding Kate at home I had skipped dinner the night before so made myself a breakfast of eggs and toast. Whilst eating I picked up our copy of the local free paper which is delivered on Thursday and noticed it was open near the middle. An article caught my eye as it was circled in green pen. Kate habitually uses green pen for some reason lost in time. The article was part of a column written by a local gossip columnist, Marsha, known for adding two and two and getting five. She never let the truth get in the way of a juicy piece of gossip and had been threatened many times and taken to court on several occasions, always skirting around with innuendo and never naming names. The article was damning.
"A friend of mine, on holiday in Brisbane told me she chanced to see a local "Live Wire" salesman from our small town who was having lunch in a hotel restaurant in the city on two consecutive days with a young, attractive redhead. On the second occasion he was seen to enter the hotel elevator with her, both looking very cozy. Just because you are 1,000 kilometers away you cannot escape my all-seeing eyes."
This was going to upset my plans and I needed to take swift action to get Kate back on side without telling her the truth about these meetings.
I took the paper with me and drove to her parent's house. At first, Bob and Doris would not talk to me even though we had always got on very well and treated each other as family. Finally, I persuaded them to listen to what I had to say. The redhead is Sandra, the daughter of Kate's sister, Tracy, who had a falling out with the family many years ago and had left home, causing much distress to her family who thought she had overreacted to events that had occurred.
Over the past few months, I had hired an investigator to find Tracy and I had contacted her and spent hours on the phone with her trying to persuade her to reconcile with her parents and sister. She knew that she had been wrong in leaving but was too embarrassed to contact them, fearing that they would reject her. I had finally persuaded her that they all loved and missed her and would love to see her again. My meetings with Sandra were to arrange a date for both Tracy and Sandra to come to Sydney and meet up with the family. I had taken her to my hotel room in Brisbane, to show her a couple of albums of family photographs. Sandra was all for re-connecting with her grandparents and aunt whom she had not seen since she was very little and was pushing her mother to take a trip to Sydney to visit us all. I was trying to keep this reunion as a surprise for the family but felt compelled to spill the beans to mum & dad. Kate's parents were over the moon with my efforts and thanked me profusely for taking the trouble to try to reunite the family. They immediately phoned Kate but only got voicemail as I had. They left a message saying that what she had read was all a misunderstanding and I had not done anything to harm the marriage. By this time, it was late afternoon so I went home and waited for Kate to call either her parents or me.
Friday and Saturday nights were both long and lonely with still no contact from Kate to either her parents or me.
Sunday morning, after trying once again unsuccessfully to reach Kate I tried to keep busy by doing the regular household chores, mowing and weeding, washing the car and then started on those reports for my boss.