“I’m home darling,” said Eamon, walking in through their front door. Getting no reply, he walked through the house to the patio doors and looked down to the garden.

“Oh shit!” he said to himself.

His wife was walking up the steps toward him. She was stark naked and carrying her towel. She was making no attempt to cover up. He knew that whatever he said, he would be in trouble.

“If this weather holds,” she said, as she drew closer to him, “these tan lines should be just about gone by the end the weekend.”

“I see,” said Eamon. “Is there a particular reason for getting rid of the tan lines?”

“I can wear clothes of different cuts, neck and waistlines et cetera without a glaring bit of white. I am also thoroughly enjoying naked sunbathing. I’ve not tried it before.”

“But why somewhere that you can be so easily seen?”

“To add a little spice and naughtiness, darling. My body doesn’t seem to inflame you, as it once did. I’ll cover up when you’re around, don’t worry. Dinner can be ready as soon as you want Eamon. I’ll just go upstairs and get dressed again.”

Melanie began walking toward the stairs but suddenly stopped and turned round quickly, with a big mischievous smile.

“Darling!” she said. “Why don’t we see if some of the magic is still there? Get your lovely cock out for me now.”

Eamon leapt backwards when she reached for his trousers.

“I … I, I need a shower,” he stammered.

“Alright Eamon, mood passed,” said Melanie in a resigned tone. “You’re not doing much for my self-esteem, are you? I’ve half a mind to go back outside. I know there are at least two neighbours enjoying the view. Anyway, grab your shower and I’ll set the table once I’ve dressed.”

As she walked up the stairs Melanie could hardly contain her glee. When she got to the bedroom she punched the air with a silent shout of “Yeesss!”

“You daren’t risk getting it out, do you Eamon?” she said quietly to herself. “It may show signs of recent illicit action. Now, my darling husband, you will have to work very hard indeed, to get past first base. If you think I might want a mercy fuck, then think again. I’m just going to give you more and more rope to hang yourself with.”

Melanie wondered once more, why she was so calm about the situation. It was very likely to end in divorce. Financially she would be secure. She found herself looking forward to the prospect of finding a Hal or a Ben to share her life with.

Eamon was giving thanks for his escape. Just about everything in that encounter with his wife had gone disastrously badly for him. He would have liked to have tried making love to his wife. She deserved some attention, after all. He dreaded to think what would have happened if she had managed to get his cock out. Carrie liked to send him off, after they had played, with his cock smothered in lipstick.

It's mine,” she would always say, with a wicked leer. Suddenly, Eamon felt very unsafe.

Mel decided to make things easier for him. He had to think that she had calmed down and everything was back to normal. By the time he had his shower, she had their dinner on the table. She chatted about various things, including the two nice gentlemen she had been helping with their shopping. At this stage, she forbore to mention the forthcoming cookery lessons.

Eamon talked about the various jobs he was going to get done in the garden over the weekend. “Was there anything she needed doing?” he asked.

Melanie thought for a moment, then smiled brightly.

“Actually, yes there is darling. It would be very helpful if, at some point over the weekend, you could get me a couple more bales of general purpose compost. B&Q usually have a good offer if you buy three.”

“No problem at all, my darling,” said Eamon, smiling broadly.

‘The best way to B&Q goes very close to Carrie’s house,’ he said to himself. His own wife was sending him that way, he could hardly believe his luck.

Luck had nothing to do with it. His wife’s bright smile meant something other than gratitude. ‘Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly,’ she was thinking.

“Would you like to pour us some drinks, darling?” asked Melanie, once the dishwasher was loaded. “I fancy just doing a bit of tidying in the greenhouse to make room for the compost.”

“I’ll bring it down for you, darling,” said Eamon happily. It seemed he had an opportunity to regain some ground.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said Melanie.

A bumper glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc was duly delivered with appropriate remarks of affection.

Once back in the house, Eamon poured himself a large glass of Malbec and then got out his phone.

The following morning, Eamon was up early. He wanted to get the lawns cut, and told Melanie he would leave about ten for her compost. She was not surprised that he decided to have a shower before going out.

A few minutes after her husband had left, she began to track his phone.

“Oh, so predictable,” she said, with a note of satisfaction, when he saw the signal stop moving.

Eamon pulled his BMW onto Carrie’s drive and parked next to her Avensis. He grinned as he saw Carrie walking toward him, with a wicked smile all over her face.

“Brilliant bit of planning, boss. The nice man at B&Q loaded the bales into my car for me. If we transfer them now that gives us the best part of an hour.”

Melanie was puzzled for a moment when the signal indicated that her husband was heading straight home. How would he explain being out for an hour and a half and forgetting the compost? Then she laughed.

“Very clever, very clever. Which one of you thought of that one? Well, the sun’s warming up. Time to top up my tan, I think.”

Eamon walked through the house, half expecting to find his wife nude sunbathing again.

“I’m over here, darling,” she called. “Thought I would be a bit more discreet this morning. It’s not overlooked in this corner. I’ll just go and get dressed.”

Eamon watched his wife disappear indoors wrapped in a towel. He was relieved that she hadn’t made any overture regarding sex. Carrie had once more marked her territory.

By Sunday lunchtime, Eamon was thinking his fears were ill-founded. Melanie seemed her normal bright cheerful self.

“I’ve a two-day meeting in Edinburgh next week,” Eamon announced, casually after lunch. “Going up on Tuesday, back late Thursday.”

“Oh! Fine, okay,” said Melanie.

“Is Ms Fawcett going too?”

“No. She’s taking the opportunity, while I’m out of the office, for a quick visit to her Mum in Lincoln.”

“I was wondering if you fancied some shopping in York and you could run me to the station? Otherwise, I’ll go from Harrogate.”

“York sounds a lovely idea, darling. Thank you. Very happy to drive you in. I’ll ask one of the girls if they fancy a day out.”

‘Too smooth Mr Frobisher,’ she thought to herself. ‘Like hell is the tart going to Lincoln.’

On Monday morning, Melanie waved her husband good bye, before dashing back upstairs to change and dab a bit of make-up on. She was excited, indeed she had butterflies in her tummy. At ten o’clock, she was due at Hal’s house. They would both be waiting. She expected some frantic last minute hoovering and polishing might be underway.

Melanie had chosen her outfit carefully. It had to be practical, but it had to be feminine. Thus far, her new friends had only seen her in ‘shopping clothes’. What to wear had been her most consuming thought over much of the weekend. That and amusing herself with the games her husband and the Tart were playing.

Hal and Ben were like children watching out for the arrival of Father Christmas. The house was cleaner than it had been for some time, and they were stood at the lounge window, watching the road. They cheered when they saw Melanie’s Lexus pull up.

Their jaws dropped for a moment when she climbed out of the car. Hitherto they had seen her in smart trousers, simple tops and a plain jacket. Melanie noticed their faces and was pleased she made the right choices.

Melanie hugged and kissed them both. She was just as excited as they were.

“Hal,” she said, “let me hold your arm please as you show me around downstairs and the garden. I want to try and feel Jane’s permission for me to be here. Show me some pictures of her, please.”

“Ben! I will ask the same of you later. I want Mandy’s blessing too.”

The next half hour was cathartic, and it could have stretched out for the rest of the day. Melanie brought their time to order, gently.

“There will be lots of other times, Hal. It’s time to see your kitchen.”

“Jane was very well organised, wasn’t she?” said Melanie. “You’ve got everything you need, but you might want to organise it differently for how you want to use it, in due course. The recipe books are exciting but, apart from the battered copy of Delia, they’re not for the beginner. We can address that.”

It was a similar tale at Ben’s house, except that the gadgetry was even more pronounced.

“Your Eamon is a very lucky man,” said Ben. “You’re totally gorgeous, Mel, in every sense of the word. Maybe when we’ve practiced a bit we could invite you both over for dinner.”

“Yeah!” said Hal. “I want to cook salmon with fresh homemade pasta.”

“I want to cook a cassoulet,” said Ben.

Melanie looked at their happy grins. She decided this was not the best time to tell them that Eamon had forgotten what a lucky man he was.

“Casserole type dishes are a very good place to start,” said Melanie. “Ben, you wanted to cook a cassoulet. Then that is what we shall do. Some other things as well, but Wednesday, the three of us cook here. I have to take Eamon to the station in York, tomorrow morning. I’ll be back early afternoon and we go shopping.”

“Is Eamon quite cool about you helping us like this?”

“I’ve told him I’m helping two widowed gentlemen with their shopping. This evening I will tell him I’m helping them to work out how to use their kitchens, and show them some cooking skills. To be quite honest boys, he has his mind so focused on this business trip to Edinburgh, I doubt he will even hear me. Don’t worry about him getting the wrong idea. I’ve given cooking demos before now, albeit usually to women’s groups.”

The following morning, Melanie accompanied her husband to platform 4 to wave him on his way. She scanned the platform, but there was no sign of Ms Fawcett. Eamon had been very relaxed with her presence. He showed no concern about being ‘discovered’.

'I wonder if she is catching a later train,' Melanie thought to herself as she walked back to her car.

Carrie Fawcett had caught an earlier train for one stop. At Northallerton, she was smiling seductively when she slid into the seat next to her lover.

“Two whole nights,” she giggled.

Eamon, as always, was just captivated by her proximity.

“What’s Mel doing today?” Carrie asked.

“Social work. She’s come across a couple of old guys who’ve lost their wives. She’s teaching them to make toast and boil eggs, or something.”

Melanie arrived at Hal’s house at twelve thirty.

“I’ve made us a light salad,” said Hal, once they had each enjoyed a hug.

After they had enjoyed their lunch, Melanie checked Hal’s shopping list. She added some items; she was broadening the scope of their forthcoming class.

The patrolling of the aisles was huge fun. Hal and Ben each had a trolley. Melanie made sure they acquired the items needed. As she did so, she tutored them on what was, and what was not, a bargain; offers to be taken advantage of, or ignored.

“Right, boys! We reconvene tomorrow morning at Ben’s at 9.30 to make our cassoulet. Ben, remember to get the beans in to soak as soon as you get home.”

It was gone four o’clock when Melanie arrived home. She was feeling very pleased with her two students, but now it was time to investigate Eamon and the tart. She tracked his phone. He was at the hotel. Picking up her iPad, she hit the facetime icon and set the screen to record their conversation.

“Hello, my darling,” said Eamon. “Lovely to hear from you. Good time to call as well. I’m meeting some of the other delegates in the bar in 45 minutes.”

“Did you have a good journey, dear? Was the train on time?”

“Yes, very straightforward. Have you had a good day?”

“Lovely, thank you. I helped Hal and Ben with their shopping; they’re both so sweet.”

Melanie jolted upright. Eamon had swivelled his seat as his attention had been drawn elsewhere. In so doing the room was revealed in the large mirror behind him. Ms Carrie Fawcett had emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel on her head. She grinned at her lover, realising he was talking to his wife, but then turned her back to him. Had she not done so, the dangers of the large mirror would have been obvious to her. The gestures she proceeded to make left little to the imagination.

“You’re so kind, my darling,” said Eamon, tearing his eyes away from the floorshow. His movement removing the mirror from the screen, thus keeping him equally ignorant of the accidental revelation.

“Have a nice evening, and don’t work too hard,” said Melanie.

“Love you, Mel,” shouted Eamon. His eyes had gone back across the room. “I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

“Silly fool has even forgotten it was me who called him,” said Melanie, out loud.

For the first time, she began to feel anger and hurt. The tart had bent forward from the waist, reached hands behind her back and pulled the cheeks of her bum apart. Melanie got up and poured herself a large gin and tonic. A very, very large gin and tonic.

“Ms Fawcett, that gesture was not for the titillation of my husband. It was your silent message to me. Well, you stupid little tart, what you don’t realise is that I received it. Not only received it, but recorded it all for posterity.”

As soon as she intoned the word ‘posterity’, she broke into a fit of giggles as the image of Carrie’s most intimate parts came back to mind.

“Time to phone Cousin Lizzie, again,” she announced to the empty room.

After an hour on the phone, she returned, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Eamon, my darling,” she said to the room. “I almost feel sorry for you. Lizzie is a truly wicked minx.”

“Ladies!” she intoned, raising her glass to an imaginary gathering. “I am engaging the enemy. Raise your glasses, please, ‘To the destruction of the husband and the tart.”

“Who needs men!” she shouted. Then she thought of Hal and Ben, and the tears began to flow. They were fuelled by the G&T, and her envy of the passion her two friends still felt for their wives.

“Time for a mug of tea, girl. You’ve a cookery lesson to take tomorrow.”

The following morning, Melanie revised her plans and put an extra bag in the back of her car.

“Right boys!” she declared, on entering Ben’s kitchen. “We’re doing a real prawn salad to begin with. Watch me take out the digestive tract on this one, then you do it with the others. Hal, get these mangetouts and cauliflower pieces cooked until their crispy, then plunge them into cold water. Ben, see to the avocado and oranges. When you’re done, we’ll do the dressing.”

The boys were in their element. This was so much fun and it was giving them so much confidence.

“The cassoulet itself, Ben, can be cooked in so many ways with a variation of ingredients. I couldn’t detect which recipe Mandy used. I suspect she had her own variation. Please, don’t be disappointed if the flavours don’t match your memory.”

As she said it, she took hold of Ben’s arm and leaned up to give him a peck on the lips. His face was a picture. As Melanie turned she saw Hal.

“Oh come here, you lovely man,” she said. “One for you as well.”

Melanie gave the men a few moments to recover.

“Action stations!” she commanded.

They all felt a sense of pride and achievement when the cassoulet had been built and placed in the oven. The first pastry lesson began and it was accompanied by huge laughter. They took soft drinks into the garden and enjoyed each other’s company.

“Ben, may I ask a favour please?” said Melanie.

“Of course love. Hal, and I both went to good schools. We learned that doing what the teacher asked was always a good idea.”

“You’ve done the work and soon we’re going to enjoy a beautiful meal together. I would like to dress up a bit and feel special. It’s almost like a mini graduation for you both. I’ve got a bag in the car.”

Beneath the cheerful, jokey, exterior, a deep well of emotion was bubbling. Suddenly, the cavorting of the tart and her husband’s deceptions were biting at her sense of identity.

Both men read the words and the body language.

They retrieved Melanie’s bag and Ben escorted her upstairs.

“Take all the time you want, and use anything you find. This is your space, for the moment,” he said, showing her into the bedroom he and Mandy had shared.

Thirty minutes later, Melanie took a deep breath, preparing to make her entrance.

“I’m coming! Ready or not,” she called.

Hal grinned at Ben and gave a thumbs up. Ben hit the start button on the CD player, then skipped over to join his pal near the foot of the stairs. Melanie slowed as she heard the first strains of music. Oh! her boys were making this something special. Strauss’s ‘Also sprach Zarathustra’ filled the house. She chose the first bars after the introduction to begin her descent. As the dawn cadences broke, the two men dropped to their knees.

“Fuck you, Carrie Fawcett!” she whispered to herself.

Melanie walked down the stairs toward her grinning acolytes. Her grin was as big as theirs. They were making her feel very special.

Ben and Hal looked up to the vision of curves and cleavage, to the happy grin of their friend, and rejoiced. Suddenly, they felt released. They felt they had permission from Mandy and Jane to move on.

“Mel, you look absolutely stunning,” said Ben.

“I think we’d like to eat you,” said Hal, licking his lips.

“Before we go any further,” said Ben, “I have a suggestion. It may not fit your plans, Mel, but how about we call you a taxi to take you home later. You can have a drink and relax. One of us will come and pick you up tomorrow. What do you think?”

Melanie’s heart began to beat faster as a frisson of excitement swept through her.

“Thank you, Ben, I would love that. Thank you both of you. You don’t know how much that means to me just now.”

“Then what may I pour you a very large one of?” asked Ben.

“I’ve seen some rather nice Mosel on your rack, Ben. A modest one of those, but plenty of Cahors or Corbieres with the Cassoulet itself. You’ve got them both on your rack. I want us to drink a toast, please.”

The ‘boys’ were infected with Melanie’s excitement and the atmosphere became quite heady.

“Gentlemen, I give you the first students of the Melanie Mackenzie School for Masterchefs!”

They drank, but both Hal and Ben looked puzzled.

“Darlings,” said Melanie, “ever since I was a little girl, I wanted my name on a board, or even up in lights. Mackenzie is my maiden name, and that was always what I imagined. You are probably going to the only students that ever get enrolled in the school; so I expect you to shine.”

“We’re slow learners, Mel,” said Hal.

“I’ve had experience in a previous life of working with ‘remedial’ children. If extra lessons are needed, then so be it.”

The Prawn Salad was a delight. The cassoulet was a triumph; a gourmand’s vision of heaven. The Corbieres was poured liberally and the party atmosphere was something that each one of them hadn’t experienced for a long time.

For Hal and Ben, it was the sort of relaxation with a woman that had been so cruelly taken from them. Offers of companionship had all come with too many strings attached. Here was unconditional friendship.  They enjoyed the flirting. The compliments were genuine from the two men who were becoming such good friends. They made no secret of enjoying the glimpses they got from her cleavage. At one point there was nearly a very serious spillage of wine.

“Mel,” said Ben, with a smile, “For both of us this is the first time we have been able to relax and have fun with a beautiful woman since we lost our wives. Thank you, it’s all such fun.”

“Yes,” responded Hal, “I’m sorry, but you’ve probably noticed us appreciating your feminine charms quite a bit. I hope we’re not embarrassing you,” he said, with a cheeky grin.

“Far from it,” giggled Melanie, “far from it. Ogle away boys. You’re doing a lot for my ego. Eamon hasn’t taken any notice of my body for some time. In fact, do you know what he did when he caught me sun bathing? He yelled at me to cover up.”

“Where you topless?” asked Hal.

Melanie simply grinned and both men were suddenly suffused with a wonderful vision. For a moment they forgot they were holding glasses.

“Mind your wine!” Melanie cried. She saw the wistful longing in their faces and reached out to hold their hands.

“I’m not actually going to answer your question, suffice it to say I was on a mission to get rid of tan lines.”

Both men uttered a theatrical low moan of lust. Melanie was thrilled.

“You really are giving me such a lift, you lovely, lovely men. I don’t want you to start thinking me shameless, but it’s party time and a girl likes to keep the attention of handsome men around her.”

Ben was sure his heart actually stopped. Hal forgot to breathe. Melanie slowly undid two more buttons at the front of her already plunging vee line.

“Some eye candy for dessert, gentlemen. That’s all you’re getting, though.”

“Ben,” said Hal, after they began to recover the power of speech, “how about opening some champagne?”

Melanie laughed. “It would be a bit of a waste, after all the strong red we’ve had. I can assure you that no more buttons are being undone until I’m home.” She laughed again, at their exaggerated expressions of disappointment.

They all felt giddy as they cleared away. Melanie gave the boys plenty of ‘downblouse’ and revelled in doing so; enjoying her exhibitionism as much as they. They were a breath of fresh air in her life; a life that she had not realised had become rather stale.

They walked the garden, with Melanie holding onto their arms. She skipped and danced, reciting lines from ‘A Midsummers Night’s Dream'. They were touchy feely as they planned the cookery session of the following day.

“Mel?” said Hal, “at the risk of spoiling the mood, I want to say something. I think Ben will agree, but you have broken us out of a place we had become trapped in. You became our friend and so much more. We’re moving on, thanks to you.”

“Boys, you’ve restored my belief in being a woman. More important than that, you’ve broken me out of a place I didn’t know I had become trapped in. Mr Frobisher is finding amusement elsewhere. He has his tart to keep him warm. At least I now have some friends. Can we all have a big hug before my taxi arrives, please?”

For Ben and Hal, it was a seminal moment. Their friendship with Melanie had shifted to a new dimension. They appreciated that they were giving, as much as receiving. Nothing was said, but a quantum leap was in the offing. As the taxi arrived, Melanie sealed the direction of travel. This special evening was not to be a one-off.

“May I also bring a change of clothes tomorrow, Hal?”