“Timothy is that you?” Lucy shouted as she put the Turkey in the oven.


“Yes, I will be in, in a minute,” he replied. Timothy stood in the hallway his heart pounding trying to get himself under control. He couldn’t let on. She must never know.


He came in and kissed his wife, fixing a smile on his face. Lucy was too busy to look at him closely.



The twins had been a handful today, they were both teething. She checked the oven temperature and suggested they sit on the sofa. Her legs ached, she had been up and down all day.


“I have a few things I need to do, work stuff you know. Give me a shout when dinner is ready,” said Timothy.


Timothy walked quickly to the study and locked the door tight behind him. He sank down into a chair and sobbed quietly. How did he get himself in this mess? Why hadn’t he suspected before now. He never realised his inability to read people would lead him into such trouble. 



He ran it over in his mind again, trying to find a way out, but there seemed no escape. The only thing he could do now, he thought was to keep it from Lucy. No point in both their lives being ruined by what he couldn’t change. She should live in blissful ignorance, her and their babies. At the thought of his little girls, a fresh wave of tears stained his hands.


Drying his eyes and doing his best to compose himself he went to see his little girls and hoped that in the nursery he could forget his troubles for a while.