Til Debt Do Us Part

Chapter 4

He stared at his wife. "Where did you get these?" He croaked. This definitely was not spontaneous. This had been carefully planned, something he knew Lillian was not capable of on her own.

"They were delivered to me this morning. Proof of why you walked out."

"I didn't walk out . . . Who is it, Lillian?"

She looked up, dabbing theatrically at dry eyes. "Who is what?"

"The reason for all this, and don't tell me you don't know what I mean."

He knew before she said a word it would be a lie. After thirteen years her range of facial expressions were on permanent file in his head.

"There isn't anyone . . ."

"Fine. Who helped you with these papers?"

"Hum-- I found a divorce lawyer." Her eyes betrayed her and Mathew finished the hesitation.

"Humphrey! You used Humphrey Borden, Percy's lawyer!"

"He offe-- I-- he was the only lawyer I knew." Her posture was shifting to uncertain defense mode.

Mathew sagged onto a chair. "He offered? Is that what you said? He offered? And this all took place in the one and half days and one night that I was gone? just why would Humphrey Borden offer to help you . . ." His mouth fell open and he leaned back in the chair, his life running behind his eyes like a broken film strip. "Percy?"

Lillian turned red and tied to hide it with her tissue. She hadn't pictured this scene at all. Hers was one of a subjugated Mathew whining for forgiveness as she sadly informed him it was over.

"Percy," he said again, absently. The idea as remote as one of Lillian's vacation islands.

"It's not what you think, Mathew."

His attention snapped back. "Yes. Yes it is, Lillian. It's exactly what I think. I see now why I suddenly became redundant -- professionally and personally."

"No, that's not--"

"How long? How long have you and bloody Percy Rudman been planning this day?"

"We didn't plan--"

"You mean all the time he was shtupping you the topic never came up! Did he croon the words, vacation villa in your ear?"

There was a slight gasp and it looked like all Lillian's blood had congregated in her face.

"Jesus!" He stood up and started out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"To pack."

"You have to sign the papers . . ."

Mathew's pirouette in the doorway was so shockingly swift he blundered into the large, framed brass rubbing of Lady Elizabeth Cobham, 1374, sending it crashing to the floor and shattering the glass. He picked himself up and glared at the mess then taking slow deep breaths, transferred the look to his wife. Lillian's alarm was evident when his voice was so low and controlled.

"The papers for your unplanned divorce action you mean? These papers are ready for me to sign? Not just-- those pictures but you have papers here too?

"Mathew . . ."

He turned again, safely this time and stormed up the stairs to their bedroom.

******

"It's your private line, Mr. Rudman," Janet called from her desk.

"What now, who is it?"

"It's your private--"

"Oh for god's sake. Fine. Fine." Percy snatched up his receiver. "What? Who is it?" The voice made him roll his eyes and slouch back in his chair. "What did you expect? . . . I know but not so soon- . . . I know what I said at the restaurant . . . so will he sign? . . . Packing! Packing for where? . . . So can't you ask? . . . He knows about Humphrey! . . . Did you tell him . . . good god, what were you thi--? . . . hello? Hello? Oh good Christ!"