Why My Wife And I Stayed Together, Though Her Deceptions Were Extraordnarily Complex

In 1967, my young wife Serenella, keen to lie in bed most mornings, while I taught Italian, took up with a Linguist called Michael Sharp. He was so obviously effete, that he must be gay, I thought, and I tolerated coming home to the graduate students' village, entering my house, and seeing Serenella and Michael Sharp lying in my bed together. "Oh, we felt like a little cuddle," he wd say, or my wife wd call in Ludovica, our daughter, and joke about playing hide-and-seek with the handsome babysitter, Mr Sharp.

A few years later, when Dr Sharp and his new wife went to Romania on a Fullbright fellowship, I was strangely amused that everyone in the plane was killed when they crashed near Bucarest Airport.

The next story is funnier. Serenella took up with a celebrity in the world of Physics. His name was H.P.. Even then, in 1968, he was spoken of with awe. You might have heard of him. He was an early inventer of Linear Accelerators, and he spent his day teaching little physicists to send small atoms at the speed of light round tunnels, and taking sexual pleasure with my wife. He once insisted on taking us camping at a ludicrous Hippy hide-out called Big Sur. At night, he would slip into our tent, wriggle up between my wife's thighs, and quietly have his way with her, while I slept. Argus never sleeps, or closes his eyes, one imagines -- wrongly.

I asked Serenella later: "What's all that ***** on the sleeping-bag, when, as far as I know, we never made love in the night?"

She answered: "Oh, maybe Heinz came in. But I definitely thought it was you, Bruce."

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66-70, M
May 14, 2012