He would invariably greet her with:
—How’s it going in journalism, any good scoops?
—Nothing much this week, she would say, with a pleasant gleam across her forehead. It seemed like she would light up with pleasure at seeing him, he’d noticed that, over the months, and it showed no signs of wearing off. The shape of her face, perfectly symmetrical, and the hair line painstakingly sculpted, spinning a little web of her magic to make herself appear so symmetrical.
He liked that they had coffee or a light something, in a cafe, attendance at a meal, ritual, then they’d walk along the avenue with the antique shops…
How pleasant to meet up and go before the park with the hotel, that they conversed like sensible adults, instead of the instant dive into sordidity.
He is now used to waiting for her by the chestnut tree
He is usually there first. Sometimes, less often, she.
She always was well dressed up, had taken a special, and that had not changed from the first time they began the tryst,
She had applied and perfume, eau de toilette, and he took it as compliment, which it was,
It seems though as if the pleasure they both get from infidelity is
Give infidelity a chance, don’t knock a sin until you’ve tried it; they were in tune with the liberating aspects and seemed to minimise the guilt aspects.
When they were in bed in the hotel room, the large luxurious bed, who knows what devil made him ask it, but ask it he did.
—Do you have a partner, he asks.
You know, like a regular person, maybe under the same roof, not necessarily married, but with, like, commitments together…
She winterised in front of him.
—We said we wouldn’t discuss these things, while we were together — you know the rules for a good adulterous relationship. We know you have a wife, but that’s where it ends. I wanted it that way, if you remember, and you agreed to it.
—I know I did. It’s caused me… you know… soul-searching.
—A lot of soul-searching?
—No not a lot, Not like that. You see, the thing is, I don’t know why I did agree to it.
I am being unfaithful, but I don’t know if you are being unfaithful or not…
It has soured the atmosphere, and he could not help being at a disadvantage when it was plain that subject was closed.