I’m just the bloody wife…

The phone rings.

I answer it and the voice at the other end asks: “Hello, my name is…. May I please speak to Mr. F.”

“No” is my short answer. I’ don’t bother apologising any more  for his lack of availability.

“Oh, Ok then.  When might Mr. F be available so I can speak to him?”

“In maybe  a month’s time, what do you want to talk to him about, maybe I can help you?”

“Sorry, we are only authorised to speak to the account holder. Who are you?”

I’m his wife.”

There’s a moment’s pause. I can imagine they’re thinking: he’s left her. Messy divorce on the horizon so we’ll have to be even more tight-lipped in case we’re sued for breach of confidentially in the future.

I try to explain. Continue reading