My Wife's Li'l Secret (8 page)

Facing Olga and Viggo was not something I looked forward to. I worried I would snap and fuck the shit out of both of them. I wanted to.

It would be a crime of passion, all right. I was sure the courts, after seeing the footage of her pleasuring him, in my home, in my bed, then taking it doggie style, would be sympathetic and spare me the chair.

Hell, I would ensure that not only the courts see that footage, but the whole world.

But, I had two precious little girls with Olga, so the last thing I needed was for them to live in shame for the rest of their lives. They needed me now more than ever. They were the main reason I was going home. Someone had to ensure they were being fed and taken care of.

Luckily, the moment I entered, Olga was on her way out, dressed in denim jeans so tight, I wondered how she could breathe in them. Her top was once again strapless and stopped short of her midriff. I used to like red lipstick on her. Now it just made me think of her in the video footage, when she was wearing it while fucking Viggo. That was the end of red lipstick for me.

I ignored her angry glare and Viggo’s curious stare. Bet they were dying to ask me where I had been all day. Bet they wanted to know why I hadn’t answered their calls.

For once I was happy Olga was leaving my house. It was a relief not to have to talk to her, not to look at her deceptive face or listen to her lies.

“We’re going out for a while,” she threw over her artificially bronzed and shimmering shoulder.

Yeah
.

Loosely interpreted: we’re going out to party and maybe fuck somewhere along the line, after which we’ll come home, as we need a place to crash.

I willed myself to say
okay
in a spritely voice, but I couldn’t. The words stuck in my throat. Even though I promised Bear and Arena I’d play it cool and say nothing until I obtained more information on Viggo, I worried I was going to disappoint them. My anger was getting in the way and staying cool was a real challenge.

As they moved around, I observed them from the corner of my eye. In the past, when Viggo touched her, stood behind her and put his hands on her hips, I thought nothing of it. But now it was different. I felt nauseated when I saw him stand behind her with both hands on her hips. It wasn’t innocent; it was sexual and rehearsed – doggie style.

When they talked to each other in Russian in hushed tones, I despised it. Despised the language, despised the accents, despised their stupid dance, despised everything about it. Their banter, the smiles they shared, their touch, their whispers; like lovers.

When they heard my voice, Ally and Becky ran into me. Just crashed into me and almost took me down.

“You were gone for so long,” Becky said in a chiding voice. “Forever!”

“Forever?” I asked, laughing. “How do you know how long I was gone for?”

“Um…I counted,” she replied, playing with the buttons on my shirt.

I laughed and kissed her angelic face.

“Where have you been all day, Daddy?” Ally demanded, hands on her hips.

“Out,” I said, pulling her into a hug. “Stop nagging daddy, you guys!”

“Daddy, can we swim?” Ally asked. “Please?”

“Eh…”

“Please, Daddy?” they chorused.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “But only if I can throw you guys into the water.”

Laughing nervously, they began to back away from me.

Slowly, I started to creep after them. Shrieks of laughter filled the room as they ran out to the pool.

I caught Ally first and held her above my head. “Tell me the drill!”

“Deep breath, kick my legs and become a beach ball so I rise to the top!”

“That’s right!” I cried as I tossed her into the water and watched her rise to the top before she swam to safety.

Becky grabbed my legs. “And me, Daddy! And me! And me!”

“Nah, ha. You’re too little. Hold on.” Quickly, I stripped off my shirt, then grabbed her. “Hang tight, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Geronimo!” I cried, as I jumped into the water with Becky hanging onto me.

For the next few minutes my daughters tried their best to drown me. I let them. My silver lining at that moment was hearing their peals of celestial laughter.

Pity their mother had checked out of their lives, I thought sadly. Poor babies. They were so little and they really needed their mother. It must be equally confusing to them to wake up one day and find their mother had changed into a hard, abusive bitch.

How could things change so radically overnight? I asked myself. Take a turn of such magnitude that I can never recover from? That we all may never recover from?

Soon, I would have to break it to the girls that Olga and I are splitting. How would I tell them about the divorce, the separation? Would they understand? Would they miss their mother in spite of all that happened recently?

Olga may have been AWOL at that moment, but there was a time when she was the world’s greatest mother. Doting, nurturing, attentive, and the kids came first. Always.

“Daddy?”

I looked into Ally’s face.

“Are you sad again, Daddy?”

“Huh?” I peered at my daughter. “Again?” I shook my head. “I’m not sad, hon, I’m…tired.”

“Why don’t you go have a nap like Uncle Viggo does?”

“Huh?”

“When he’s tired, Mummy puts on her red nightie and takes him into the bedroom to tap him to sleep.”

“Then we have to watch to see if anyone comes home,” Becky added.

Dumbfounded, I stared at my kids.

“I’m not tired,” I quickly said, and attempted to change the subject. “You guys want pizza?”

“Yes!” they chorused.

We got out of the pool, showered, changed, and ordered pizza.

While waiting for the pizza, I played house with the kids. When was the last time Olga played with our kids? I wondered. Bet it was a long, long time ago.

“Dadda, drink your tea,” Ally said, pushing a tiny cup and saucer in my hand to my face.

“Um…” I peered at the empty cup, “need more sugar, Alley Cat.”

Becky, using a plastic teaspoon, scooped imaginary sugar into my imaginary tea. “That ’nough, Daddy?” she asked with the sweetest smile ever.

“That’s better,” I said, and under their watchful eyes, I knocked back my invisible tea. “I’m sorry, but I’m too tired to help with the washing up,” I said and flopped on my back, my hands spread wide, my eyes shuts. When I faked snoring, they laughed, climbed over me, and tried to pry open my eyelids.

I grabbed them and began to tickle them until they once again screamed with laughter.

“Tell me you love me, then I will stop.”

“I love you, I love you! I love you!!” they chorused.

“Now tell me something interesting. Quick!”

“Eh, Mummy was mean to Ally today,” Becky said.

Slowly, I stopped my goofing around with them and looked at Ally.

“What happened, Ally?” I think my voice was threatening, because she looked really scared.

Becky wasn’t scared or intimidated. “Ally say, ‘Mummy, Mummy, I wanna swim.’, and Mummy say, ‘No! Not now!’, and Ally say, ‘Please Mummy! Please Mummy!’, and Mummy grab Ally’s neck and say, ‘Shut your mouth, you hear! Don’t make me lose my temple with you!’, and Ally, she –”

“Temper,” Ally corrected.

“…shut her mouth.” Becky clamped her lips together to demonstrate.

I stared at them with bulging eyes. Not only was I aghast at Olga’s treatment of Ally; I was equally aghast with the ease in which Becky could emulate her mother. She was a real bad influence, all right.

As for Ally, I stared at her, not knowing what to say.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Ally said, in a placating voice. “I think Uncle Viggo was being mean to Mummy, so she was mean to me. That’s all.”

My ears pricked. “Uncle Viggo was being mean to Mummy? Really? Tell me about it.”

Ally shrugged. “He pushed her into the fridge.”

“What? Was it an accident?”

“Naha!” Becky said. “He did it on purple. He was angry.”

“Not purple,” Ally corrected in a haughty voice. “Porpoise.”

Purpose
.

I said nothing, distracted at the thought of Viggo shoving Olga into the fridge. That better be an accident, or I will shove his head into the fridge, I fumed.

No matter what she had done to me, I would not allow Viggo the cunt to hurt Olga.

That night as I lay in my bed in the spare room, tossing and turning, thoughts of Olga and Viggo flooded my head. Haunted me something terrible.

Questions plagued me:

Would they pull over in some dark make-out point and fuck before they got home?

Would they do it in the back seat of her Ford Explorer?

Would she  perform fellatio on him, then kiss my children with the same mouth?

Were they laughing behind my back at my stupidity?

Was she wearing a condom?

The biggest question I asked myself over and over again: how the hell does one sleep with a sibling? How long had it been going on? From childhood?

Did she give him a blow job then kiss
my
mouth? Fuuuuuck!

That day I arrived home early and found her in a see-through night dress at 2 p.m., that credit card troubling day – had I disturbed them? Viggo had been in bed…

Questions, questions, questions with no answers.

Well, a few things were clear; Viggo was sleazy, Olga was a dirty slut, and I needed an AIDS test, pronto.

****

Jai hadn’t called, and waiting for information from him was killing me.

Be patient, I told myself. Keep busy. I heeded my advice and resisted the urge to call and pester him for an update.

For forty-eight hours. Then I caved and dialed his number.

“Soon, Big. Be patient, mate. It’s coming soon. Promise.”

“Okay,” I muttered, and hung up.

Three days later, I got a call from Jai. Finally. I jumped to take his call and held my breath.

“Are you able to meet me tomorrow morning, Big? Seven-thirty?”

Was he serious? I’d been waiting for this call for days!

“Can’t I meet you now?”

“Now? It’s…almost midnight, Big…”

“I don’t care. I will meet you now, Jai.” My eyes flew to the wall clock – 11:52 p.m.

“O…kay, but you may not be able to sleep after this.”

My mouth went dry at his words. “Fine, fine,” I said more to myself, then hung up. I wanted to ask him what he meant, maybe even demand he read his findings to me over the phone, but something stopped me. Fear.

It had to be bad news.
Worse
news.

My buzzing phone interrupted my morbid thoughts. It was Bear. Why was he calling me at this time of the night?

“Bear?”

“How you doing, Big?”

“Eh, good. On my way to see Jai. He’s got info for me.”

“Oh? Really, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. Come over when you’re done, then.”

“Might be late.”

“That’s okay. I’ll be up.”

“Sure.”

Jai’s car was parked on the side of the road and when he saw me, he flashed his lights.

I slid the Jeep into a spot behind him, got out of my car, and walked up to him.

With each step that I took, my mouth became a little dryer.

You may not be able to sleep after this.

I had already been struggling to sleep, but his info, his findings promised to give caffeine a run for its money. I got into the passenger seat of his white Toyota Corolla and looked at him in the dark.

Jai vigorously scratched the back of his head.

“Spill, Jai!”

“Mate, in a nutshell, my Ukrainian connections report, and this is a theory, as we can’t be sure right now, that…”

“Yeah, yeah…?”

“The man calling himself or passing himself off as Viggo Alvang…”

‘Yeah, yeah…?”

“… may actually be Cruikshank Koslov, and –”

“What do you mean?”

Jai held up his hand.

I shut up.

“Now Olga Alvang …”

“Yeah…?”

“…she was once Olga
Koslov
.”

I jerked back in my seat and stared at him.

“No theories about that. It’s a fact.”

I peered at Jai. “Wait, you mean, Olga’s brother…?”

“Is Olga’s ex-husband and…he may not be Viggo after all.”

“You're kidding me!”

He shook his head. “They were once husband and wife, mate. If he is Cruikshank, that is.”

My jaw dropped as I tried to absorb all that he was saying.

Olga’s ex-husband is living in my house?

As if he was reading my mind, Jai nodded, a gloomy look on his face. “They got divorced about five years ago.”

“Five…?” I peered at him, my mind racing. We had only been married five years, so that would mean that Olga and I had gotten married almost immediately after their divorce.

“Cruikshank Koslov, he was arrested and charged with
human
trafficking, but charges were dropped when two crucial witnesses in the case disappeared and...”

My daughters were in the company of a human trafficker? “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” I said with my hands on my head. I would need to kick him out ASAP. Both of them.

“Olga’s parents, they died nine years ago.”

I sat back and peered at him. “Jai, that can’t be…they didn’t die…?”

“They died nine years ago, Big. Within six months of each other.”

I blinked rapidly as I stared at him. “So…so…so who were the old couple in my home almost a year ago…?

He lifted and dropped his shoulders. “Big, I’ll tell you this much: my source is reliable. That part, it’s been verified.
That
part. You need to look into that, mate.”

I stared at him, at a loss for words.

“Got a photo of the parents?” he asked.

“No, not
with
me. But Olga has one on our mantel piece. I’ll get it for you.”

He nodded. “You do that. I’ll look into it. Into
them
.”

“So where is Viggo? The
real
Viggo, then? ”

“The real Viggo – nobody knows. He disappeared years ago under suspicious circumstances.”

“So this Cruikshank character is using Viggo’s identity.”

“
May
be using Viggo’s identity.”

“Wow!”

“And Olga? What can you tell me about Olga?”

“He's digging and he’ll come back to us on that. ’Fraid that’s it for now, mate. I’m waiting on more. I'll share with you the moment I get it. The language barrier, it gets in the way, you know. Delays things.”

For a while, I just stared ahead at the dark as Jai’s findings swarmed my head, further shattering my world and stealing whatever little peace of mind I had.

“You said dribs and drabs and that’s what I’m giving you for now. There's an old woman, the village gossip. Likes to talk. My source spent a great deal of time with her. But it cost.”

“I don’t give a shit, Jai. Just pay it and send me the bill.”

“Sure.”

I stumbled away from Jai feeling like I was stoned. How I got home, I have no idea. Auto pilot for sure. I didn’t go to Bear. I just sent him a text saying I would see him in the morning and that all was okay. Big lie for sure, but why rob us both of a good night’s sleep?

Before I saw him and Arena, before I burdened them with the weight of Jai’s
suspicions
(that’s what I was going to call them until I got solid proof), I needed to get my head around things first, come to terms with what I had learned.

****

At 3 a.m. that morning, I was tossing and turning in my bed. Jai was right about not being able to sleep.

Okay, so incest may not be the case after all, I thought, trying to put things into perspective.

I should have been breathing a sigh of relief, changing my mind about Olga and feeling sheepish about calling her perverted, yet I couldn’t.

The situation had just morphed from debauched to sinister.

Cruikshank.

He had to be Olga’s ex-husband. A lot of things fell into place.

I remembered how she came alive when he came to Sydney. In all my thirty-two years, I’d never seen a sister that excited to see her brother. I’d never seen a sister wait hand and foot on her brother like Olga did.

What an ingenious crook my wife was, I thought bitterly. You had to give her credit, she was really clever. She had managed to successfully smuggle her lover into the same house as her unsuspecting and gullible husband, and got her husband to pay for her lover’s plane ticket and all his travel expenses. She had also obtained, falsely at that, more credit cards to keep him happy, probably so that he wouldn’t leave Sydney and return to Ukraine.

What a fool I was to believe that cock and bull story about him being her brother.

If it was Cruikshank living in my home, the man I met almost eight years ago, then it was an orchestrated and carefully crafted scam.

Incest to me was not only a crime, but also a deep sickness. They were sick, I got that. And I felt discomfort, disgust, deep revulsion. But all that changed – it was probably a full-blown affair, simple unfaithfulness and pure deceit. It called for anger, fury even. I hadn’t reached that point as yet. Shock at Cruikshank’s identity kept me a little numb. Should I confront him, kick him out of my house? I wondered.

What about Olga; kick her out as well?

Should I go to the cops? But what would I tell them?
“Officer, I have suspicions...”

After a lot of thought, I decided to wait for Jai before I went to the cops.