Chapter Twelve
Stella & Vincent
“‘By coming back,’ I told him, ‘I take it you understand what I expect from you from now on?’
Vincent looked tired and dispirited from his week or so on a friend’s sofa — a friend I knew just as well and who I also knew was just selfish enough not to want his personal space invaded for longer than necessary. Meaning my husband, whose parsimony and stubbornness in the handing over of a pound coin was well known in our circle and had long been a point of conflict in our marriage, would be compelled to shell out what he saw as his hard-won money on a hotel-room or — god forbid — a pricy apartment rather than another eighteen-holes of golf. Along with the fear inspired by my threat to take his business illegalities to the relevant authorities should he defy m
