Chapter 1 - The Photo

The coats smell of my wife's perfume and another man's aftershave.

I'm standing in the cupboard in my own entrance hall, and it was my idea. We moved the couch two days ago so I'd have a clean line to the rug in front of the fireplace, and then we moved it again because the first angle wasn't good enough. Sindiswa tested it herself. She lay down on the floor where she was going to lie and called out to ask whether I could see her properly.

I could.

A car turns in at the gate. Headlights sweep along the passage wall and go out. My wife checks her face in the hall mirror one last time, in the red dress I bought her for tonight, and she doesn't look at the cupboard door.

Not yet. Later she will. Later she is going to look straight at this door while another man is on top of her, and I am going to love her for it.

Three weeks ago I could have told you exactly what a man does when somebody touches his wife. I had the whole speech off by heart. My father gave it to me and I suppose his father gave it to him, and I believed every word of it right up until the night I found out that none of it was mine.

It started with a photograph.

"Hhayibo," Sindiswa squealed. "Thabo! Come here! You have got to see this. I can't believe what I'm looking at."

I put my cold Castle down and left the patio. My wife stood in the kitchen, phone in hand.

"What?" I asked.

"Look!"

She stretched her arm out, waving her phone at me. I took it and looked at the screen. I saw a man's penis, erect, big. The head looked like a fireman's helmet.

"Why do you have a picture of a man's cock on your phone?" I asked.

"Look who it's from."

I tapped the name for more information.

"Given? Given Mahlangu? Are you saying this is your boss?"

"Yes! Read the message under it. He thinks he sent it to Amahle, his old PA. She resigned a few weeks ago. She's the woman who lives on our street."

I read the words that went with his picture. Missing you so much. See you tonight?

"Oops," I joked. "Now you know why she resigned. They were having an affair. Still are, I think, judging by that message."

"There is so much wrong with that message."

I studied the photograph again.

"The man has got a big dick," I mumbled. "Lucky bastard."

"What do I do?"

I gave her a confused look.

"I have to say something," she said. "He'll realise his mistake. How should I respond? I can't get angry at my boss for accidentally sending me a dick pic, and I'd like to avoid shaming him, but from now on work will be awkward. I need to laugh it off like ha-ha, I saw your pee-pee, no big deal, but not only have I seen his cock, I also know he's cheating. I feel like that makes me a liability. I worry he'll find some reason to fire me."

"Firing you only makes you angry and more likely to tell people his secrets. I think he'll probably give you an increase to buy your silence. Let him know he can trust you. Tell him he has a nice big cock and thank him for showing it to you and then let him know you'll say nothing to anyone."

She took the phone out of my hand and looked hard at the photograph.

"You're staring," I said.

"Sorry. I just never imagined, you know? I've worked for the man for years and had no idea. Work tomorrow is going to be so weird. You're right, though. He's big. Really big." She stopped to think. "You know, Amahle used to go to his office several times a day and stay there fifteen, twenty minutes. I thought she was writing his emails but I bet she was blowing him."

"They probably fucked."

"Right under our noses. Sneaky bitches."

My wife looked at the picture again.

"Sindi. Baby. Are you imagining that cock fucking Amahle?"

My wife turned shy, laughing at herself.

"Yes," she chuckled. "Super inappropriate, neh? Sorry. At least I'm not imagining it fucking me. Then you'd have a reason to be jealous. I'm just wondering how she did it. She's a tiny thing. I mean, I get why he did it. She's a total babe. She's young and gorgeous with big titties and a firm ass. Every man at that office wanted to fuck her. She could have taken her pick."

"I think she did."

Sindiswa laughed again.

"I suppose so. Cost her a job, though."

"Maybe. Maybe he's paying her under the table. Maybe she's his paramour."

"Paramour? Who talks like that?"

"I do. I believe it's the best word. If I remember correctly, she's married and so is he."

"I have her number. Maybe I should check that she's doing all right. See how the job hunt is going. I wonder if Given made her resign."

"Maybe her husband found out."

"That would be terrible. We were friends at the office. I've bumped into her a few times at the shops. I think I'll invite her to lunch. Do you want to come?"

"Sure. I'll verify whether she's as hot as you say she is."

"You'll keep your hands to yourself, and you better not flirt with her, but I suppose there's no harm in looking."

"Yes. You just demonstrated that."

She looked at the photo again.

"Stop looking at his dick, Sindi."

My wife laughed again.

"It's a beautiful cock," she said, pointing at her phone.

"I thought women hated looking at dicks."

She shook her head.

"Who told you that? Some are ugly but some are lovely. What women hate is men who send a picture of their dicks without asking if it's okay first."

I grunted.

"Isn't that what Given just did to you?"

"Stop twisting things. Given sent that to Amahle, not me. At least, that's what he meant to do. Now help me think of what to say to him. I need to say something."

"How about this. Dear Given, I can't stop staring at your cock even though my husband is standing right here. It's the nicest cock I've ever seen. I bet little Amahle loved it."

She laughed.

"You're an ass."

"Seriously, though. How about something like: Hi Given. I think you meant to send that photo to someone else. Not that I mind. See you at work tomorrow."

She thought about it.

"That's actually really good. He can tell I'm not upset or disgusted, I leave the question of who he was sending it to out of the conversation, and I jump over any fallout by mentioning work tomorrow like it's no big deal. Like men send me dick pics all the time. That's a great response."

"You should add a note at the end."

"Saying what?"

"Complimenting his dick. Nice cock, or something like that. Wouldn't you want to know what the person who got it thought, even if they were never supposed to see the picture in the first place? I would. Imagine you sent a picture of your amazing tits to someone and they said nothing. Even embarrassed, you'd want to know what they thought."

"Fair point. It won't bother you that I'm complimenting his junk?"

I shook my head.

"It was my idea, Baby. It's just good politics."

She started typing. She hit send.

"Read it to me," I said.

"Hi Given," she began. "Nice cock, and it's not even my birthday. I'm pretty sure that was meant for someone else, so I'm just letting you know you missed the target. Have a good night and I'll see you at work tomorrow. I need to ask you a few questions about the Ramaphakela file."

"Perfect."

"Thank you."

She stared at her phone again.

"Okay, now you're just trying to annoy me."

She laughed.

"I'm imagining Amahle getting fucked again. I bet she struggled to walk afterwards. She used to wear these cute little dresses to work. Now I know why."

"Hopefully you can pick her brain over lunch. I bet she'll love having someone she can talk to about it. She'll be relieved that somebody knows."