My wife and shaun the Scaffolder Parts 1,2 & 3

Part 1

I’ve just turned private eye. It’s exciting, dangerous and I’m not sure I want to know the results of my investigation.

If I am going to leave my wife, then it will be me that has the affair, walks out with a canoe under my right arm, or leaves my clothes on a beach at Yarmouth.

But, it’s my wife, that’s acting very suspicious of late. Texts at all hours, quick trips to the local shop that take longer than a weekend in Devon and thongs! Yes. Thongs! I didn’t know my wife had any let alone wore them.

Having discussed this with a couple of close pals, apparently this is a classic hallmark of an affair in progress. In fact, the only thing lacking to confirm this is a fully re-invigorated sex life-well I never really had one in the first place so I can rule that one out.

And that brings me nicely onto the point that concerns me the most. I’m told that affairs start with an explosion of sex while the messy things like who gets the kids and the CD collection comes a long way down the line. Well, my wife having explosive sex is about as likely as the Pope buying Asian Babes magazine.

So, here lies a quandary. If my wife is having explosive sex on Shaun the Scaffolders pole, I need to find out.

So, my newly found love, the Internet, has turned up a few tantalising pieces of undercover 'Simon Templar' gadgets that will come in handy. Having decided on the appropriate piece of equipment I set about a plan.

So here it is, have you ever seen such a thing? It’s a SIM card reader, that once inserted into a PC, will read the last 20 deleted texts from a mobile phone. Fan-friggin-tastic.

The excitement quickly turned to fear while reading the instructions.

In order to read the sordid texts between her and her hip-hanging tool belt lover, I would need to do the following without anyone noticing: find the offending phone, remove the SIM card-taking off the battery cover and place into a USB device. Then, take this to the PC, insert, and perform a 3-minute program that reads the SIM and places the info onto my computer. Then, remove the SIM from the PC, return to the mobile phone and replace the battery.

WHAT! That is a 20-minute operation that even the SAS would turn their noses up at. My wife and her mobile phone are attached like Torvill and Dean. This will take some planning, but having recently watched a re-run of 'Steven Seagal' movies, I had an idea…..

Part 2

It was 7am and the sun was shining fiercely through my bedroom. My wife was as ever, putting on the slap and getting herself ready for another triumphant day at the office, a simple 50-minute transformation!

I waited downstairs in the study for the moment to show its sorry face and it came like clockwork. She will dry her hair at exactly 7.30am and that little job will take about 10 minutes-on and off.

The key was this; while she is drying her hair she cant leave the room, it’s a military operation getting her blonde Medusa locks just right and feeding the snakes, but not as big a military operation as mine was going to be.

First blast on the blower and off I went like a missile, darting upstairs and then rolling from a high altitude parachute jump into bedroom number two where she charges her mobile. With one swift movement the phone was in my hand. The blower stopped.

This is where it could all go horribly wrong. While she is drying her hair, it's impossible to be in two places at once, but….


Off it went again and trembling like an alcoholic looking for whisky at a bottle bank I took off the battery and released the SIM.

I was behind schedule due to the trembles, but the battery was back on. Phone looked normal. SIM in hand. I was starting to sweat slightly but took an unhurried walk back down to the study like I didn’t have a care in the world.

Blower on again. I dashed to the PC and fiddled endlessly with the stupid USB thingy. I was panicking-it wouldn't go in. Took a deep breath and it was good to go. Ran the program. Downloaded the info. Hey presto and back upstairs.

The dryer turns off and her door opens on the landing as I walked up the stairs looking like I’d been on a ten mile hike (I should have trained for this first). "Have you seen my….....are you OK...….are you having a heart attack?" I’d bet she’d love that. 'Mouth to mouth? - Oh not right now darling.'

I appeased her and the conversation stumbled as it usually does, and she goes downstairs. I had only seconds to get the SIM back in and the battery back in place before she came back up again.

Then I remember, I left the bloody computer screen on with the program results still showing, and she was just about to walk past it and immediately win in the divorce courts on the grounds of harassment, paranoia or both. I could only do one thing and call her back upstairs before she could see it, but only to find me with her SIM card in one hand and the battery in the other and looking more suspicious than a Muslim wearing a rucksack.

I called her urgently. She comes back up. I slot everything back into place with milliseconds to spare. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I fell exhausted to the floor in a red faced sweaty heap, hands trembling uncontrollably. "Oh my god" she said, "you really are having a heart attack…….."

Part 3

Unbelievable!

Having faked a heart attack and risked certain death, I found nothing. But I’m not convinced……