Monkey's bones
Like the bone twirling overhead in "2001 A Space Odyssey" transformed into modern technology, my indiscretion was found out.

I had begun a marriage which wasn't quite right. We'd known each other nearly seven years but a long-distance relationship with someone from the other side of a very large ocean doesn't perfectly reveal all the tiny irritations which can lead to an insurmountable problem. About three months into the marriage, for which I moved away from Blighty, leaving everything behind except memories of a career, we could hardly bear to be the in same room as one another. It wasn't anything malicious: just two people who shouldn't have been married at that time.

The mind plays tricks, under such pressure. It perceives anything on-line to be the emotional equivalent of real life. My mobile telephone never left my side unless it was locked (and my spouse and I didn't habitually check each other's phones) and a flush familiarity with certain types of dating websites brought me some relief, even though my co-conspirators lived some two hundred miles away in a very rural area of a vast country considerably larger than Britain.

The fruitiness of secret conversations, very secret pictures, and some verbal contact, exceeded most people's wildest boundaries. Some of it should be recycled into a book, for the prurient interest of course. Never did I reveal my real name or location; but my grumpiness with some elements of the instant overseas family made no disguise of my married status, and I explicitly discussed certain issues with the family which seemed not to be resolvable by the people directly concerned, especially my stepson who was a violent, petty criminal.

Work arrived in the UK so, with a hope to clear things up between my spouse and me, for neither of us wanted things to be so badly wrong, I left to earn some income, taking my phone with me, of course.

About a week later, the prime female correspondent in all this, a very adventurous, filth-obsessed, but mostly-responsible person, was involved in a minor road accident while she was travelling some hundreds of miles from her home. No-one was hurt, but her own telephone was flung out of her car in the accident, wheeling through the air like the bone thrown by the ape in "2001 A Space Odyssey", coming to land by the roadside for anyone to discover it. However, that large, mainly rural, country does not have a tradition of "lost property" offices especially so far from civilisation, so the phone, being capable of really very good photographs, was found and fenced.

The accident occurred ten minutes from my marital home. The eventual fence was my wife's son, the violent one, who still lived in the same house as her.

Can you imagine what he thought when he looked at the telephone's contents?

About a week later, at four o'clock in the morning, the telephone rang in my London flat. My wife's voice asked, "Who's Rebecca?"

So, I was caught. Day by day, each and every message found on that telephone was drip-fed back to me via email. Along with the photographs. Both sides.

Oddly enough, my spouse and I are in good contact now. Sometimes, you never expect to be caught...
(Sky Channel 760, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:52, 6 replies)

my wife's name's Rebecca
you cunt!
( monstrinho do biscoito teeeshurts = www.nogunarmy.com, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:57, closed)

My girlfriend's name's Rebecca!
You spaffgargling badgerbotherer!
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:36, closed)

my ex sister in law's name is Rebecca
damn you
and she owned a mobile telephone
(nimrodihnio making gravy for one., Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:41, closed)

You know, from that description, it's just about possible that I know her, and therefore you.
Edit: Oh look, you're even the right age.
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:47, closed)

wha?
Not being mean, but that was really hard to read :(

Its a good story, and seems honest, but you skip between parts so quickly, its hard to tell where you are or who you are speaking about in parts!
(Panda_z is sweating like a chav in dixons, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:21, closed)

What are the chances?
Click for stunning unlikelyness.
(SimianKid internet faffer, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 15:23, closed)