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By Root 1290 0

(including Tony) on strictly organised routines. Tony would love that. I always wondered about the nature of the connection between them - despite his denials I knew it must have been powerful, if only because it kept them together all that time - and I’ve come to the conclusion that what he might have been seeking all along was someone to look after him, another mother figure in a way. Maybe that’s not unreasonable considering he has so much responsibility in his day job, but seeing I went into our marriage seeking pretty much the same thing, it’s hardly surprising we came a cropper. And you know, when I think about it there is a touch of the Pamela about Wendy, in manner if not appearance.

If my story was assessed as a moral tale it would fail on all counts. If it was one of those nineteenth-century novels I, the fallen woman, the faithless wife, would be dead by now. I would have wasted away from consumption, or drank arsenic like Madame Bovary or thrown myself under a train like Anna Karenina. Instead I seem to be in robust good health and quite high spirits. Real life doesn’t always contain a moral, I suppose.

Ultimately my story also fails as a fairytale. There were no villains here, just a bunch of flawed individuals making a mess of their lives. Some may argue that I have just replaced one handsome prince with another, but nothing’s that simple. That doesn’t account for the fact that I’ve changed. I’m no longer seeking a man to look after me - I’ve found out that I am quite capable of looking after myself, thank you very much. What I want now is a partnership of equals and I think I may have found it, although it’s early days yet.

Just the other day Alex gave me the loveliest present I could ever have wished for. It was the gift of understanding.

He was playing peek-a-boo with little Henry at the time, enthralled with the activity way longer than I would have ever been. He turned to me and said, ‘You know when you left me and told me that you were not making the choice between me and Tony but between me and Isabel, and that one day when I had children I would understand…’

‘Mmm…’

‘I understand now.’

‘Ah, so this little fellow has usurped me in your affections has he?’

‘I wouldn’t put it exactly like that. It’s a different sort of love, isn’t it? But all consuming - I wasn’t expecting that. But of course you knew already.’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

So some time later this year we will have a wedding: one of those informal garden weddings with a few close friends and family and a little blonde girl with flowers in her hair and a little dark-haired boy toddling somewhere close by as we make our vows.

And will we live happily ever after? Who knows? I hope the gods are kind to us, but it’s unrealistic to expect it’s all going to be smooth sailing. That’s life. But I have learnt my lessons the hard way and now have a man I can talk to and with those things on our side we might just make a better shot of it than most.

Reviews

‘An irreverent and painfully honest take on the

fairytale of wedded bliss. O’Reilly is a wickedly

funny, naughty, new Australian voice.’

Grazia

‘This book...will prompt you to re-evaluate

your own ideas of forgiveness, unfaithfulness

and when to walk away.’

Madison

Benison Anne O’Reilly has university degrees in pharmacy and commerce and works as a medical writer. She is co-author of the best-selling Australian Autism Handbook. Benison lives in Sydney with her husband, three sons and a menagerie of small animals. This is her first novel.

About the author

Benison Anne O’Reilly has university degrees in pharmacy and commerce and works as a medical writer. She is co-author of the best-selling Australian Autism Handbook. Benison lives in Sydney with her husband, three sons and a menagerie of small animals. This is her first novel.

Acknowledgements

A common piece of advice handed out to aspiring novelists is to write about something you know. I don’t know why I thought I could ignore this advice and get away with it. Thus, I am extremely grateful to the gentlemen aviators