How well do married couples really know each other?

Maggie Jackson's Odyssey is a bittersweet romance about the pathos and bathos of marriage, mortality, and growing old.

Psychotherapist Maggie would have said she was contented, if not happy, in her marriage until she found amorous text messages on her geriatric pop-philosopher husband Colin's phone. Taking his credit card from his wallet, she set off from their affluent home in Twickenham on a spontaneous odyssey across Europe, visiting their old haunts and brooding on her sense of betrayal and loss. But Maggie's libido was not as exhausted as she thought, and she too was susceptible to the seductive allure of a late-life dalliance.

Back home, a year of separation has rekindled a libidinal passion, shot through with Maggie's rage and Colin's fumbling attempts at reconciliation. Now, lockdown has forced them together again.

Maggie broods and reminiscences as she prepares for Colin's 71st birthday. Can she forgive him? Does she want to stay in their marriage? It's not as if she expects perfection: "Good enough is as much as we can hope for, and it helps if he keeps his dick in his trousers. It's not too much to ask, is it?"

Restless and irritable, in a day zinging with tension, she reflects on their relationship and on her solo jaunt around Europe: "It wasn't really a jaunt. What can I call it? A pilgrimage? An odyssey? Yes, an odyssey. Maggie Jackson's odyssey. That's what it was. Not exactly a Greek tragedy. Probably more of an Ealing comedy if the truth be told. Shirley Valentine meets Mrs Dalloway."

Through it all, Maggie does her best to play the good wife, trying to suppress the guilt-inducing jibes at Colin that threaten to derail her efforts. But as her alter ego keeps reminding her, Colin wasn't the only one to go astray.