Soon after I'd retired from the police service, I realised that I needed some sort of hobby; a pastime that would occupy me but without too much physical exertion. The bullet in my right thigh still ached most days, just to let me know it was still there.
It was my wife, Maggie, who suggested ornithology. At first, the idea of bird watching didn't exactly fill me with enthusiasm, but as she insisted that I get out from under her feet, it began to feel like as good an idea as any; and anyway, at least it would get me out of the house, I thought.
And so I became a bird watcher. In fact it began to grow on me. Days on end would be spent roaming the local countryside with a pair of high powered binoculars that I had stolen from the police department stores before I'd left. I became quite an expert at spotting rare birds and bought several books on the subject and logging each sighting in my note book. I suppose it made me seem very dull, but I was really enjoying myself.
But then the rain came. Day after day of cold, wet drizzle that soaked me through to the skin after less than an hour outside. It became impossibly uncomfortable to continue with my hobby and so, once again, I spent my days moping around the house and generally getting in Maggie's way.
"Why don't you watch out of the window?" she said to me one day, after losing her temper with me yet again. "There must be something you can see in the back, and to be fair, Frank, you're starting to drive me fucking crazy!"
I grunted, noncommittally. After seeing some of the wonderful, rare specimens in the open countryside, what chance did I have of seeing anything more than a sparrow in our back yard!
"Oh, for God's sake!" Maggie yelled at me. "If you're gonna just pace around here all day, I'm going out! I have to see Mrs. Bailey at number 34 anyway. Her two boys Mike and Paul have promised to help me set up the tent for Saturday's carnival."
As my wife left through the back door and I was alone, I thought about Mike and Paul Bailey. The brothers must have been both in their twenties by now. I had known them since they were kids and had the unpleasant task of busting them a few times in their teens for minor offences. But they had kept out of trouble recently and were becoming good citizens. I wandered around my empty house for another fifteen minutes listening to the incessant rain patter on the windows before eventually deciding to take Maggie's advice. Watching the back yard would be better than nothing, I supposed. I grabbed my binoculars and books from the hall closet and, making myself a strong coffee, I strode purposefully into the dining room.
After twenty minutes of watching little but starlings and sparrows flutter between the trees and perch on the washing line, I was becoming bored. Maybe I ought to try another room, I thought. The back bedroom offered the best vantage point, I realised, and gathering my stuff together I made my way upstairs. The room was in darkness and smelled a little musty; it hadn't been used since our daughter, Jane left for university two years ago. I pulled the drapes back and opened the window. A cold breeze wafted through the room. I sat on the bed and opened my books: I should see something from here, the view stretched over the adjacent houses and into the farm fields beyond.
For half an hour I panned the binoculars over the fields and tree-line in the middle distance. As usual, whenever I saw something out of the ordinary or slightly unusual, I would refer to my book and try to identify the species. This procedure continued for a full half hour, panning the glasses from side to side in the hope of seeing something exciting. And then something else caught my attention. It wasn't in the sky above the fields or in the trees beyond, it was in the house opposite - number 34! My heart raced. It was Maggie! Her dark hair and petite body unmistakable in the upstairs bedroom window. What the hell did she think she was doing! And why was she in the bedroom with Mike and Paul! The truth slowly began to sink in: She was about to have sex with her friend's son's - Both of them!
My first reaction was one of complete disbelief: I just couldn't accept that Maggie would be unfaithful to me. When I soon realised that this was exactly what she was doing, that reaction was quickly replaced by anger, then nausea and then, surprisingly, by a feeling of excitement. I realised that I was becoming turned on by the thought of my wife with two burly young men! I quickly closed the window and pulled the drapes part of the way across. It was as if I were in a dream world: I could hardly believe this was happening. But it was happening. My wife was about to get laid by two young men that we had both known for years and I was going to watch it all happen from the comfort of our daughters old bedroom. The whole situation was surreal!
I trained my powerful binoculars back onto the window and adjusted the focus. I felt so close to them, it was almost like being in the same room. Maggie was between the two men on the bed already virtually naked, the only item of clothing that protected her body from prying eyes and fingers was a pair of lacy black panties.
