Pledge your troth to a chesterfield sofa: you know it makes sense.

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What present can you buy for the couple who seemingly have everything? When they’ve already got the swanky house, the posh kitchen, the shiny new car, a well-behaved adolescent and the chesterfield sofa, what more could they possibly want? In the case of Doctor Gemma Foster and her ‘philandering’ husband Simon, they’ve got the whole package, so we’re struggling to come up with an answer to that. There doesn’t appear to be anything missing, other than trust, oh and marital fidelity; the two things that are guaranteed to scupper even the strongest relationship. Still, the chesterfield sofa looks great.

The BBC’s latest contemporary drama, Doctor Foster, is certainly a nail biter. It’s a tale of a marriage increasingly poisoned by doubt and suspicion. Unfortunately after just two episodes we aren’t really in a position to work out who to trust. All we have to work with are our own suspicions and prejudices, and that’s a definite recipe for disaster.

So we’re left with more questions than answers as things stand. Is Simon cheating? Is Gemma’s paranoid? Are teenage boys really that pleasant in a morning? Do GPs really trade sleeping tablets for information and amateur surveillance? Would a doctor really halt a medical examination to check their WhatsApp messages? Do suspicious people really type “cheating husbands” into a Google search bar when they suspect their partner’s playing away? Oh, and of course the obvious one, where did they get that lovely leather chesterfield sofa?

Will it all come out in the wash? Will the chesterfield sofa become a hostage to fortune? Will the family be happily reunified, or will Gemma eventually succumb, and accept her inglorious fate as yet another of William Congreve’s women scorned? Well, only time will tell. We’ll learn over the final three episodes of this gripping drama whether her suspicions were founded or not.

If Simon does turn out to be a rotter, then our advice is simple. Make sure you take him for everything he’s got, and make sure you get custody of that lovely chesterfield sofa. If it turns out it’s all been a dreadful misunderstanding, then take the sofa anyway. Once trust is lost, there’s no going back. Stick with something reliable. Pledge your troth to the chesterfield sofa. It won’t stray, it won’t cheat and it won’t let you down. It just keeps on giving. Put your faith in good old British craftsmanship. You know it makes sense.