After a small but deeply unsettling discovery, author Ann Turner wonders just how well you can ever know another person...
How well can you know someone?
I’ve always thought that I could read my partner of twenty years like a map. I keep no secrets and felt comfortably assured that was reciprocated. In the past I haven’t been as perceptive as I thought, and this should have acted as a warning.
In my twenties, my colleague Michael was my best friend. He was supportive, and always there when I needed him. We'd stay up talking, confiding everything. When Michael met his wife-to-be, I was thrilled. Jenny was bright, with a quick humour and a warm heart that matched Michael's. After they married and Jenny became pregnant, I was so pleased for them. Until one day, Michael and I had lunch on a sparkling spring day and he told me that he was having an affair. Horrified, I said he must stop. He then confessed he'd had several affairs with married women he hadn't told me about. I couldn't believe my ears. I was very worried for Jenny.
Should I tell her? I didn’t think that was my business – but I did feel strongly that it was my duty to get Michael to tell her, and to commit to not being unfaithful again. But Michael didn't confess; he ran away, and stopped talking to all his friends, including me. At first I'd still see him at work. We'd pass in corridors, see each other in meetings, and he'd pretend we barely knew each other. And then he left work too. In spite of Jenny trying to contact him after their gorgeous little girl was born, he refused to see his daughter for the first years of her life, and after that only sporadically. How wrong I'd been about him. How little I really knew Michael, after all.
There's a shadow in me, a doubt. Secrets don't have to be big: small ones can cut deeply, like a sliver of glass.
Years later, I discovered my own partner had a secret. I was rummaging around our shed for gardening gloves when I found, tucked away in a dimly-lit corner, a beautiful little oil painting of the sea. What was it doing there? I’d never seen it before. Turning it over, slipped into its frame, was a card. From the ex-girlfriend of many years before, Fiona, wishing happy birthday, with kisses.
I supposed she had given it before we met, but I was concerned that it was hidden. I looked again at the front. The artist had signed the date – 2013. Only three years ago. Churning with shock, I rang Jenny, now a dear friend. She came
straight over, we walked around the park, me crying, she giving advice.
I found I wasn't up to a direct confrontation, I felt too raw and vulnerable. Instead, I hung the painting in our family room, near our dining table, where it fitted perfectly with our other landscape art. A chill ran through me – had Fiona been to our place, to know our taste so well? Two days later my partner noticed the painting, and froze. I asked what was wrong? Nothing... After dinner there was a visit to the shed.
I was washing the dishes when the altercation began. My partner had been seeing Fiona, but promised that it was just as a friend. They were both historians – it was logical their paths crossed, but not wanting to upset me, I had been kept in the dark. I wasn’t fond of Fiona, a game-player who had tried to inveigle her way into our relationship when we first met, with odd invitations. She was peculiar, and deceptive. I was distraught that deception had spread. The painting was taken off the wall, with an apology. It went back to the shed where it was quickly lost amongst the mess and detritus of our lives that inevitably ends up there. I've always trusted my partner. Did I believe it was only friendship between them? I wanted to keep trusting – I had to keep trusting.
But there's a shadow in me, a doubt. Secrets don't have to be big: small ones can cut deeply, like a sliver of glass. I wish I'd never found the painting, because sometimes now I look and wonder: how well do I know my partner? I hope better than I knew Michael.
When we look into their eyes, hear their words, do we ever really know what's going on inside another person, or is there something unreachable in us all?
Ann's book The Lost Swimmer is published by Simon & Schuster and is available now from Amazon.
By Ann Turner
Twitter: @Gransnet
Any situation is alright until something better comes along.
We've been together since 1972 and in all that time OH has never wondered, or has HE
I don't think I want to know, I'm quite happy being who I am in a relationship that seems to have lasted well.
Trust is a wonderful thing, how can a person remain in a relationship with out any.
Being married to someone you don't have total faith in must be miserable. A big blow to someone's self esteem. I admire anyone who can rebuild trust after a betrayal they say it can be done. I found out after my marriage broke up from my ex's next ex he had cheated on me. I was very unaware. If I'd known I know I'd not of had thoughts of wishing it had worked out. I'm happily remarried 
30 years and he lives with his mother.
I am aware that some folk have really dreadful and upsetting experiences and I have great sympathy for anyone in that position 
I think [willa] is right and that you do have to give the benefit of the doubt for your own peace of mind. One of my friends acknowledges her own paranoia and often says, "Just because you are paranoid it doesn't mean they aren't out to get you." 
As someone else on here said about her DH, my DH is also a simple soul and what you see is what you get. He has, in the past, been totally traumatised when a woman colleague made a play for him. He innocently thought his wedding ring was protection enough and had to call in the cavalry - me! Even to this day he tells me I was good - very good! 
Jaxie, I feel so sad for your situation and I sincerely hope you find some comfort in you life as it is now.
For everyone who has been betrayed, in whatever way, by the people who should give you unquestioning support.
Jings - my husband usually has a stash of choccie, but it's run out 
. It's only a certain type too, and I'm supposed to find it in the shops!
He also has a mancave.
Already??
East Sussex is lovely. 
I need a short break.
jingl. Same here. No pots and pans to bang as it's all in the oven but he can't see it so he thinks I'm not bothering.
He's now doing his usual thing of desperately trying to find excuses not to go away next week. He hates the idea until he gets there and then he's the life and soul.
So far:
He's constipated....So?
DD might forget to feed the cat....No she won't
The car might break down....We have AA cover.
We can't afford it....Bollocks Nonsense.
And so it goes on.
We're only going to East Sussex!!!
All of you are right. I suppose I now look for the other things in life together that are good. If I ever found out that he had been or is unfaithful, what would I do anyway. I don't fancy life on my own, so while there are still good bits I shall focus on them instead. By the way, he has secret choccie stashes all over the place 
I'm glad I married a simple soul.
I agree and I feel sad for people who have not had that comfort in their lives.. DH drives me bonkers at times (Eg currently 
) as I'm sure I do him, but I know he's there for me come what may!
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