Laura was no longer Mr Big I Am’s partner, no longer his live in wife. Laura now took the role of Mr Big I Am’s mistress, she was happy with that.
Back when Laura lived in the house with Mr Big I Am, sharing a mortgage, Husband and I were led to believe Mr Big I Am had treated Laura to a new car. A brand-new, out of the box, shiny black sports car. The car we had bought her was sold.
The new car was registered to my address, this is how I found out: The whisper of the letterbox, a brown envelope hit the mat, addressed to Laura. I know, I should not have opened it, but I did. A speeding fine: forty-five miles per hour in a thirty-mile speed zone. Oh, and the area? Near the house of Mr Big I Am.
I handed the opened letter to her. Laura did not comment that it had been opened. Questions I had: Why was the car registered to my address? Why had she travelled at speed? Why was she passing Mr Big I Am’s address? No satisfactory answer to any of these questions. Lies, that’s all.
I knew why the car had documents registered to my address: the raising of finance. Maxed out on credit, Mr Big I Am, and Laura had used my address for a healthy financial check. My eyebrows raised at the deal she had signed for, the amount she paid each month for a car. My eyebrows lowered when I realised the car had not been gifted.
‘Get the documents changed to your own address,’ I said. But, she never did.