Unfaithfully Yours

Nigel Williams

Published by Corsair 18 July 2013

320 pages, hardback, £18.99

 

Nigel Williams, best known for his Wimbledon Poisoner trilogy, is a noted comic writer and chronicler of the English ‘burbs, never more so than in his new novel, his first in a decade, a tale of intrigue and late-flowering lust in four interconnected suburban marriages.

This little-England comedy in epistolary form has been called ‘cruel, clever, hilarious and stylish’ by The Times. Now sample it for yourself.

*

Dear Mary –

I thought I would put together all the letters that passed between what I still cannot help calling the Puerto Banús Eight. Nine, I suppose, if you included me, but I was never – thank God – conscripted into one of those villa holidays.

I come over as an absolute jerk. I think that is what I was in those days. Maybe that is still a good way of describing me, but at least now I am an absolute jerk who is loved by you.

Don’t ask me how I got hold of them. That’s my job. I am rather proud of being a snooper – and getting better and better at it with every new marital breakdown in Putney. I am no longer ashamed of who I am – and have even been known to own up to the fact that I went to a minor public school.

These aren’t all the letters, of course, and, as well as letters, there were emails and phone calls; but I think the letters say more about us all than any of the more casual traffic. Your prose style tells the world more about you than almost anything else, which is perhaps why now I take more trouble with it.

I have typed them up – so that you don’t get John Goldsmith’s unusually neat doctor’s hand, Barbara G’s wild scrawl, Mike Larner’s prim italic, Sam’s bold cursive or your wonderful way of managing to make the alphabet look as if it was eating itself. The butch, broad strokes of Gerald Price’s Parker pen are also absent – as are the hideous, spider-like marks made by my (now abandoned) Mitsubishi Uniball. The only handwritten letter I have left as it was is the last and, I think, rather touching, message from Elizabeth Price to me.

Her handwriting was not as I had imagined it. It was crazy. There were wildly irregular spaces between words, sentences and even, sometimes, different ingredients of the same character. Significant?

Here they are anyway – Elizabeth and Gerald Price, Sam and Mary Dimmock (that’s you!), Mike and poor Pamela Larner and the Perfect Couple Who Weren’t – John and Barbara Goldsmith. They come over as clear as day, don’t they?

That is the beauty of letters. There is nowhere to hide. So here you are. I thought it might amuse you. I’ve touched them up a little and added a few chapter headings, but – I promise – I have not seriously interfered with what any of us wrote to each other. This is Putney, red in tooth and claw. My version of the Great Putney Novel, the one I often talked about writing back in the day. All You Ever Wanted to Know About Sixtysomethings – a group I have only recently joined.

Enjoy!

XXXX Orlando

 

Chapter One

Mrs Price Hires a Private Dick

From:

Elizabeth Price

PO Box 132

Putney

12 June

 

To:

Roland O. Gibbons

Gibbons Detective Agency

12 The Alley

Putney, SW15

 

Dear Mr Gibbons,

I am writing to you because I think my husband may be having sex. I am not sure with whom he is having it but it is certainly not with me.

He may, for all I know, be involved with more than one person. I use the word ‘person’ advisedly. He may be doing the deed of darkness with females, males, or some combination of the two, since, as far as I can gather, at his public school, a boarding establishment, homosexuality was more or less compulsory for the younger boys. I am fairly certain he is not a paedophile, however, which is some comfort. We have two children and, as far as I know, he has never interfered with either of them. Indeed, it has been something of a struggle to get him to even acknowledge their existence.

I have studied various kinds of detective agency but none of them seemed entirely convincing. Indeed, from the general tone of their advertisements, I gained the impression that many of them would have joined, enthusiastically, in whatever it is my husband is doing.

I am not, at this stage of the proceedings anyway, interested in photographic recordings of him committing adultery. Nor am I sure, at the moment, what I will do with the information you obtain or, indeed, what it is I expect you to uncover. It may be that he is not having sex with anyone at all. Though, from my observation of him over more than twenty years, I think that highly unlikely. He once told me that he would ‘shag the Archbishop of Canterbury if that was the only thing on offer’. A joke – of course – but people reveal themselves through their jokes. Don’t you think?

We have – as people do over the years – grown apart and, to be honest with you, he has become, in many respects, a complete mystery to me. I want, in other words, to find out more about him without having to go to the trouble of asking him. It may be simply that he has discovered a new hobby and is not keen to tell me about it. He may have bought a boat. No fewer than three men married to friends of mine have done precisely that – without telling their wives.

I want information about him, Mr Gibbons, and I want it gathered with complete and utter discretion. I suspect you are well placed to supply that commodity. If only because – during the quite extensive period of time in which I have lain in wait outside your offices – it has become clear that you are about the only person who ever visits them.

There may well come a time, Mr Gibbons, when I will require professional surveillance of his activities even when he is on our premises. We have a five- bedroom house and it is not always possible to keep track of him inside the property; but, for the moment, I am only interested in finding out what he does when I am not there. I see no reason why you and I should ever have to meet.

For reasons of security I do not wish you to reply to the address at which – for the moment – I am forced to reside with him.

Perhaps you would write to me care of the Post Office and let me know your rates and the kind of details you might need to help you begin the complex and probably unrewarding task of tracking the man to whom I am, unfortunately, married.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Yours

Elizabeth Price

 

PS I think he may be contemplating the prospect of doing away with me. I have seen him giving me some very suspect glances when we are watching television and he thinks I have not got my eye on him. For some reason this often seems to happen when we are tuned to Channel Four. I am pretty sure, however, that he has not got the kind of nerve it would require to stab, gas or strangle me.

 

 

 

From:

Roland O. Gibbons

Gibbons Detective Agency

12 The Alley

Putney, SW15

14 June

 

To:

Elizabeth Price

PO Box 132

Putney

 

 

Dear Mrs Price,

 

Thank you very much for your letter.

I was really glad to get it. I know I should pretend to be ‘cool’ and look as if I can only just manage to fit you in – but – yowzas! A job! This was my reaction. The recession has affected our business very badly and small private firms such as mine are seriously at risk from the major conglomerates.

Well done with the ‘research’ too. I will admit to feeling slightly ‘weird’ that someone has been doing a ‘snoop job’ on me (shouldn’t it be the other way round????) but, in fact, Mrs Price, I completely understand you wanting to make sure that we would be a ‘good fit’. I do not know if you have been following me home or monitoring my telephone calls and emails but, if you have, I hope you didn’t find any real dirt on yours truly!

Your letter does not suggest what it is that has made you feel Mr Price is having an affair, although you seem to imply that, whatever he is up to, it is pretty serious.

Are there stains on his clothing? Has he been making or receiving phone calls that he has attempted to hide from you? Has he been visiting inappropriate websites? I do appreciate your need for privacy but, obviously, in order to make an assessment, a ‘face-to-face’ meeting would be helpful. Perhaps you would call by the office. You seem to have had no difficulty finding it and I am pretty much free most of the time at the moment.

I’m not a hermit! I do occasionally get out for a light snack at the La Mancha Tapas Bar in Putney High Street. I usually bring a selection of sandwiches (cheese, ham or coarse pâté and pickle) to work or – on special occasions – order a delivery from the Royal China in Chelverton Road. Their Steamed Eel in Black Bean Sauce has brought me more moments of real ecstasy than – for example – my first wife. Although that would not have been difficult!

If you would prefer to telephone – and I often feel that, if a physical meeting might cause embarrassment, a chat over the ‘blower’ can be more helpful than words on a page – I enclose a leaflet, which, as well as giving our email and telephone details contains our mission statement and a few selected testimonials from satisfied clients.

 

I remain, yours respectfully,

Roland O. Gibbons (MA [Reading], PIAA registered)

 

 

 

From:

Elizabeth Price

PO Box 132

Putney

17 June

 

To:

Roland O. Gibbons

Gibbons Detective Agency

12 The Alley

Putney, SW15

 

 

Dear Mr Gibbons,

 

I fear it will not be possible for us to meet face to face. I am not horribly disfigured and am not more noticeably hideous than other late-middle-aged women of my acquaintance. I am, however, trying to keep our relationship as secret as I suspect my husband has been keeping his extra-marital activities. Although you may think you are adept at snooping, Mr Gibbons, you have no idea of the talents of the women of Putney in this area. Very little escapes their notice, and, were you and I to meet, even at a prearranged location many miles from this area, it would not take them long to rumble us.

I do not anticipate you and I ever having to go through a face-to-face encounter. I would prefer to restrict our contact to the form in which it is presently enshrined. I have used email, but it is, on the whole, a barrier to successful communication. People begin sentences in the middle, abandon paragraphs before they have got to the point and are – with some reason – usually so frightened their words will reach people for whom they are not intended that they do not bother to make the smallest attempt at honesty.

I am afraid I did not find the leaflet you enclosed very informative. The quotations from clients were positively off-putting. Who is ‘Mrs L.B.’ of Raynes Park and why did she think you were ‘utterly smooth and professional’? Why on earth does ‘Mr C. Lewis’ of Southfields believe that ‘your enquiries saved his marriage and restored his faith in humanity’? Are these people real? And, even if they are, is their opinion of any value?

You say your rates are ‘between £125 and £150 a day depending on the type of surveillance required’. I am not quite sure what this means. Do you concentrate harder if you are being paid more? I am sure I do. I am sure that keeping my husband under observation is worth at least £150 per diem. Although large, he is physically agile and naturally suspicious. He is a lawyer. Need I say more?

Perhaps – if you are willing to undertake this job – you could write back to me and give me some details about yourself and your working methods. I always think it is possible to deduce all one needs to know about a possible employee from studying their prose style and, indeed, their handwriting – should you feel moved to scribble your reply.

 

I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours,

Elizabeth Price

 

PS Inverted commas should only really be put at the beginning and end of directly reported speech.

 

 

 

From:

Roland O. Gibbons

Gibbons Detective Agency

12 The Alley

Putney, SW15

30 June

 

To:

Elizabeth Price

PO Box 132

Putney

 

 

Dear Mrs Price,

 

I am sorry to be late replying to your letter. I was called away to Norwich on a difficult case involving a missing animal.

If you do not wish to meet – let’s not meet! I want what you want, Mrs Price! I am not one of those private investigators who argues with the chap (or lady!) who is paying his bills! I am happy to accept your terms. Indeed, in the interests of ‘transparency’ you will have noticed that I am writing this reply with a black Uniball ‘Eye’ pen, made by the Mitsubishi Pencil Company. You are welcome to make what deductions you may from my handwriting!

A graphologist, who did some work for yours truly, once told me that my signature was ‘a cry for help’. My wife said she started to lose faith in me when she received my first love letter to her in what she called my ‘pathetic, spidery writing’.

Well, Mrs Price, you are in charge, and if the style and formation of my letters lay me open to you, I am happy for it to be that way! You is de Boss Lady!

Your typed letter tells me diddly-squat about you, ma’am! It was written, I would guess, using the Microsoft Word Program and printed with an HP LaserJet 2015 that is nearing the end of its cartridge life, which might suggest that you are a person who writes for a living. Your quite stern attitude to the old ‘references’ and my habit of being a bit too free with the ‘inverted commas’ tells me you may be a teacher of some kind (English possibly?) but otherwise, Mrs Price, I am quite happy for you to remain a mystery.

I would warn you, however, that the more I find out about your husband the more I am likely to find out about you. What is it the Spanish say? ‘The husband wears the wife on his linen; the wife wears the husband on her face.’

What can I say about myself?

I am fifty-four years old and have a degree in English from Reading University. I was married for twenty years and am now divorced. I was brought up in a working-class household in Putney and was the first person from my family ever to go to university. Hence my ‘penchant’ perhaps for ‘inverted commas’. I have been a private investigator for over thirty years and I take my calling very seriously indeed. I may not seem an appetizing person, Mrs Price – though I hope your sighting of me did not make you feel I was the shabby ‘man in a mac’ of detective stories – but in my quiet way I am a moralist.

I am very happy to start at the rate of £150 per day, which I usually reckon at eight hours. If I have to observe him after the hour of eleven p.m. there is a surcharge. I will obviously need a current photograph of your husband and some idea of where and when he is to be found. You mentioned that he is a lawyer so I presume he visits an office on a daily basis. Adultery is, in my experience, often committed with work colleagues – sometimes, I am sorry to say, even in the workplace itself. Perhaps he goes on ‘away days’ – a modern management notion that has done wonders for marital infidelity.

Does he, for example, have hobbies? You mentioned a boat. I have done several cases in and around Portsmouth where the bunks of seagoing yachts were not always being used for the purposes for which they were intended. Is he a keen sportsman? Leisure centres are a hotbed for this kind of thing. Is he, perhaps, a member of a local dramatic society? You mentioned your fears that he might be a homosexual and, of course, it is in these sorts of places that our ‘gay brothers’ are often to be found! I am also, at some stage, going to need to know your home address – if only so that I can make sure I go nowhere near it! Believe you me, our motto here at the Gibbons Agency is total and complete discretion at all times.

I say ‘our’. It’s just me here. I often joke that I am so discreet I usually do not have a clue what I am doing and why I am doing it!

Seriously, though, I take your confidentiality seriously and your address will not be divulged to anyone. I will make sure all my letters are directed to the ‘PO Box number’ you have given me.

 

Yours,

Roland O. Gibbons

 

 

 

 

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