chapter 6

Trevor did not know it, but six months into our marriage, all his clothes were one size bigger. He still had a toned, athletic frame, but he was softer all over. Soft enough to stop our bones clashing when we made love, but not soft enough for him to realise he was finally putting on weight.
He was less fussy with his meals nowadays. He didn't always insist on salads and fruit. He would ask me if he could have chips occasionally. He didn't even mind a slice of pizza.
His coffee habit had almost disappeared, replaced by at least 2 litres a day of fizzy, sugary, caffeine laden Coke.
We still went out to the all you can eat restaurant once a week. He always looked forward to going there. The sight of the other diners stuffing their faces with as much as possible had desensitised him to what was and was not acceptable. I tried to encourage him without being too overbearing. He still liked to sample small amounts of different foods on the same plate. I now tried to steer him towards the deep fried battered pork or the crispy duck. Fried rice was tastier than plain boiled. The crispy seaweed was good too. I knew it was deep fried, seasoned green cabbage. It was Trevor's new favourite. He topped every plate at the restaurant with a generous portion of crispy seaweed.
He could eat one or two plates of food without difficulty. He had even sampled a couple of the desserts!
At home, I had to continue with the good work. I switched his semi skimmed milk to whole milk. Many meals started off with frying an onion. I used to fry it using that spray oil that you can get, to minimise the amount used. Now I poured enough oil to coat the entire base of the pan to fry my onions and I didn't drain it off afterwards.
If he was having mashed potato, I added a large knob of butter as I mashed it, instead of leaving it plain or adding a half a teaspoon of low fat spread mixed with yoghurt. He got butter on his mashed carrots, parsnips and turnip as well.
I used cuts of meat that were fattier, or I added extra fat to the sauce.

However, he was still going to the gym. He was working out too hard to hold onto all the delicious calories that I was giving him.
How could I persuade him to give it up?
I continued to leave my trip hazards around the house. Trevor thought I was careless and untidy. He'd got used to stepping over and around obsctacles. He was forever picked them up and putting them away.