MOTHER-of-two Jane, 49, from Wells, Somerset, tells her husband she’s going to walk the dog . . . but is reallynipping out for a cheeky Xmas Dayquickie with her bit on the side.
She confesses all to Mel Fallowfield.
Pulling my welly boots over my stockinged feet, I’ll quickly wrap my coat around me to hide my slinky dress, and I’ll cover my carefully-styled hair with a bobble hat.
Then I’ll pop my head round the door of the kitchen, where my husband Ed, 62, is peeling the potatoes, and tell him I’m just taking our black labrador Bessie for a walk.
Little does he know I’m actually meeting my lover for an illicit quickie in a garden shed at our local allotment, after cheating since February with two different men.
I’ll be one of just five per cent of people in Britain having an affair who manage to spend time with their fling on Christmas Day, according to new figures.
Meanwhile, 41 per cent of those cheating say that not being able to see their lover on December 25 will add to their stress.
But I’ve got it all planned out and it gives me a thrill every time I think of it.
I’ll have to leave my home near Wells at exactly 11am to get to the allotment five minutes’ walk away.
It must be precise as I won’t have much time. Nor will my lover, John, who will be leaving his wife and kids to “walk the dog” too.
His house is just five minutes away on the other side of the allotment.
We’re both determined to escape the confines of supposed quality time with our families to see each other on Christmas Day.
Fortunately, we’re close enough and both have pooches that we can use as an excuse to slip out, so it’s feasible.
And I won’t feel an inch of guilt — I’ll feel excited and relieved that at least someone recognises I’m not just the drudge that makes Christmas happen.
I’ve shopped, wrapped, decorated and planned for weeks without so much as a grunt of acknowledgement from my husband of 23 years, Ed, or my daughters, Rose and Milly, aged 18 and 15.
It was this feeling of being invisible and unappreciated that made me sign up to an extra-marital affairs website in January this year.
I’d been toying with the idea since one of my friends got divorced at the beginning of 2023. Once she was through the initial turmoil, she started dating again.
She was glowing and looked ten years younger. I envied her new life and the excitement of meeting men. It made me feel old and boring.
I absolutely acknowledge I’m in the grip of a midlife crisis. I feel as though I’ve only got a few more fun years to go and I want to make the most of them.
Since cheating, I’ve realised that I’m still attractive — it’s been a huge confidence boost.
I’ve even dropped from a size 14 to a size 10 because it feels worthwhile to look good, and I’ve gone back to running, too — my favourite sport in my 20s.
It all started when I went for a few coffee dates organised through the website and then, in February, I started seeing someone.
It gave me back all I’d been missing in my marriage.
It’s not just sex for me, it’s the talking afterwards, the excitement of getting to know someone else’s body and mind.
The connection was phenomenal. I remember, after I had sex with him for the first time, feeling elated and very glad that I hadn’t forgotten what to do.
Sadly, it fizzled out after three months. He was younger than me and had young kids, so it was harder for him to escape.
Six months ago, I met John on the dating site and we’ve been seeing each other ever since.
I don’t feel guilty now. My husband and I have slept in separate rooms for years. I can’t remember the last time we made love.
But I can remember the last time I asked him yet again to go to counselling.
That was three months ago, when I did have pangs of guilt and felt sure I should end it with John and concentrate on my marriage.
But, once again, he just grunted at me and said, “It’s all fine”.
His view is that I wanted to get married, and now I’ve got what I wanted, I should be happy.
When the girls are settled I can end my marriage. For now, seeing other men is what gets me through
Jane
I find it weird how life can change so much. Ed and I used to laugh and chat all the time after meeting 25 years ago at a party.
We were head over heels in love when we wed two years later, and I never thought we’d be one of those couples who go out for dinner and sit in silence.
But gradually, that’s what we’ve become.
We were watching The Day Of The Jackal the other day and I loved it.
I wanted to talk about it with my husband afterwards and got zero response — he doesn’t want to interact on any level.
His jokes that used to make me laugh now make me cringe. He retired a couple of years ago, aged 60, from his job in a pharmaceutical company, and he’s always around. The way he thunders up and down the stairs sets my teeth on edge.
He’s also been very unsupportive about me going back to work as a doctor.
I had an interview recently and he didn’t even wish me luck or ask how it went. And I’m sure he finds me irritating, too.
I’d taken two years off to support my younger daughter. She’s 15 and her mental health took a hammering over Covid. She wasn’t able to go to school for a couple of years, so I needed to be with her.
Although she’s recovering now, it’s also the reason I can’t get divorced, along with the fact that my elder daughter is about to do her A levels. I can’t disrupt their lives at the moment.
I do worry about the disruption it will cause if my affair gets discovered. Ed finds it hard to show any emotion so he’d probably just shut down further, and I don’t think he’d want the marriage to end.
But I think the girls might understand. They can see that I’m unhappy and I’m much closer to them than Ed is.
However, the likelihood of them finding out is vanishingly small. I’m incredibly careful.
I delete everything from my phone immediately.
Only one friend knows, and she’s supportive, as she realises how unhappy I’ve been.
I’ve always gone out shopping or to meet friends on my own during the day, so I’ve stuck to those patterns.
I only meet up with John properly a couple of times a month in a hotel. Other times, we sneak off for a quick fumble at the allotment.
He’s his own boss and can get away quite easily. I’m not in love with John — yet. But he feels necessary to my life. I love the fact that we really laugh together.
And he’s interested in my life — he did wish me luck for my job interview and asked how it went afterwards.
For Christmas, we’ve agreed to exchange silly presents costing no more than a fiver.
I’ve bought him a pen, a nod to our in-joke that I’ve always wanted a proper love letter. He’ll buy me something similarly unremarkable that will mean something to me.
And no, I don’t worry about getting too involved. In a way, I’d like to fall in love again and have a proper relationship on the side.
It gave me back all I missed in my marriage. After we had sex I felt elated and glad I hadn’t forgotten what to do
Jane
My husband, on the other hand, will buy me something expensive but with no thought behind it. He usually gets me a handbag, which isn’t “me” at all.
On my last birthday, he bought me perfume, which I’ve never worn and never would, and a large, beautiful bouquet of lilies, which I’m allergic to. So I spent the day sneezing. He just didn’t care enough to remember that would happen.
I’d rather have had a Mars bar, which I really love, because it would show he still remembered what I like.
Christmas is a time when, if your marriage is miserable, you’re lonelier than ever. You’re bombarded with adverts of the perfect family and happy couples. Ed and I used to be one of those.
We’d do the Christmas lunch together, laughing as we peeled the vegetables, drinking champagne and singing along to carols.
That’s why it’s all the harder now that I’ve become invisible to him.
Now, he’ll help if I ask. And our children will grudgingly lay the table.
It’s a thankless task and I’d be depressed if I didn’t see my lover. While it may seem shocking that I’ll leave Ed peeling spuds while I grab a quickie, I think it’s understandable.
In those 30 minutes with John, he’ll cheer me up, make me feel seen and appreciated — and I’ll have great sex. I’ll go home glowing and ready for anything.
At home, I predict a few appreciative mumbles at the end of the meal, followed by Ed falling asleep in front of the television and the children disappearing into their rooms to watch TikTok.
It was just days after last Christmas that I Googled how to date when you’re married.
I found the Illicit Encounters site and signed up — it was so easy and suddenly I was getting messages from men constantly. So I know if my fling with John ended, I could easily find a new fella.
Hopefully, when the children are more settled, I can end my marriage and live without lying again. But for now, seeing other men is what gets me through.
I know people will judge, but being in an unhappy marriage is so lonely.
I feel I deserve some happiness. You only live once, after all.
