After yet another night spent tugging lightly at the hem of his pyjamas to no avail, I knew my husband was cheating.
Osi was crazy about sex and it had taken a while for me to adjust to his constant need for a tangle between the sheets after we got married. But I had caught up. I had to, I didn’t want my man checking any other woman out on account of my sexual passivity.
So when Uche mentioned she knew some private investigator, I didn’t hesitate to engage his services.
He would trail Osi for a couple of weeks and get me hard evidence on who the scheming bitch was that was taking all my husband’s attention.
Three weeks later, I was at the salon. I would only have Madam Betty fix my hair. She knew that and had made herself available.
My phone rang, it was Mr John, the private investigator I had hired to unravel the mystery of my husband’s unfaithfulness. “It is ready. My assistant will get the envelope across to you now.”
He had told me earlier that he had gathered all the evidence he needed and would get them across to me that Saturday afternoon.
True to his words, a young man was at the salon less than one hour later to deliver the slightly bulky envelope.
As my hair disappeared into the rollers, I nervously tore the flap of the envelope. I would check videos and other memorabilia from my husband’s philandering later. But I needed to see the face now. That couldn’t wait.
After what seemed like an eternity, two pictures slipped out, both revealing their white backs.
My thoughts raged.
Was she prettier than me? Was she fair or dark-skinned? It’d most likely be one of those silly undergraduate ladies who just wouldn’t leave married men alone.
I flipped the pictures over.
Eyes bulging…a lump that suddenly found its way into my throat. Shock couldn’t even begin to describe what I felt.
I looked into the mirror and the face of my husband’s mistress was staring back at me.
I turned in horror. “Madam Betty!” The scream was mine.