I can see that I had been manipulated from the start, but what choice did I have when it was my wife doing the manipulating?

It had all started when we were driving alongside Streatham Common, on the way back from Beryl’s sister’s place.  Although it was early evening, there were already some working girls about.  I hoped that the wife wouldn’t notice them, but she had.  I saw her neck whip around as we passed one.  I was just waiting for her to pass a derisory remark.

‘Gosh, did you see that one?’

‘What, sorry love, I was concentrating on my driving’ I lied.

‘She was really pretty.”

‘What?’I thought I’d misheard.

‘That last one, she was so pretty, a bit thin though.  Didn’t we have any sandwiches left?’

            ‘Yes, there’s a few left and a spot of tea if you’re thirsty.’

            ‘Not for me, for her.’

             ‘She’s working luv, you can’t just drive up to her and offer her a sandwich.’

I was wrong, Beryl had a new mission, I had to do a U turn and head back to the common. As I stopped at the kerb, the prostitute jumped into the car. She looked startled when she saw Beryl in the rear seat.  After an awkward moment, they started chatting together like old friends.