She doesn’t know why she hasn’t told him. Say she’d met this man at the meeting and that she and he went back to his place and had a drink or two and then, it sort of happened. But she can’t, because it isn’t true, not about a man anyway. It was a woman. She can’t believe it herself now in the light of day, but it did and she enjoyed. It happened.

God, what am I saying? Could I tell him that? Say it aloud? No. Daft. To think I could even begin to say such a thing. I almost did in bed, but stopped myself.

She was ordinary; no, she wasn’t, she was beautiful, or it seems so now. Thinking back. Mother of God, did I really do those things and let her do them to me, too? I’m an idjit. In Dublin, too.

And he sits there totally unaware and watching the TV, thinking all’s well and that his wife Nuala’s as boring as a dim light and sitting next to him thinking about nothing except what to do for tea. Look at him. The way his jaw moves when he’s concentrating. Love that. No I don’t. It’s childish.

But she was something else. A woman. Those eyes. Lovely they were. Right there. Una she said she was. Una. Like the sound of it.

I could repeat it aloud and he’d say nothing. Might give me a look and smile. He can smile; I’ll say that for him. Been married ten years and he still has it, the smile.

She had a smile, too. Fine smile. God, did I? Do those things? Odd what you do do when you’re not quite yourself. If I wasn’t myself who the hell was I? Silly thing to say. I was me. Drunk a small bit, but not legless or off my head, so. Just nice and warm and then she says to go for a drink at her place and talk about the meeting and such and then…

He’s looking at me. The eyes on him. Blue and big. Can’t tell him. Love him. Silly really.

But she was special. I mean I’d not have done that with any woman, not in a thousand years. Just a one off.

He’s put his arm around me the big softy. He likes his hugs; likes being close.

I’ve never really looked at a woman naked before. Seemed odd touching and so.

His shoulders are soft and pillow-like. He’s breathing gentle like he’s going to live forever and never know grief.

Mary and Jesus, what did I do? I didn’t plan it; sort of happened. Out of the bloody blue. When it was over, I felt a glow all over me, like you do after a good meal or drink or when you kiss your first boy or girl whatever the case.

He’s speaking; I can’t hear him. Something about tea. Boring stuff.

I wonder what she’s doing now? Seeing her on Tuesday. Same place.

- Tea? Fine.




Horsham, United Kingdom

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