Part 2 (2/2)

'You are gorgeous, you know.'

'Yes, I know. Thanks!'

Suddenly his look changed and he seemed less drunk than disoriented. There was something vulnerable about him, something that suggested he needed help.

'Look, Kate, I know I've messed you around since that night in the Merry Widow but I've been thinking about you constantly. I didn't tell you this before, but I'm married.'

'I know you are.'

'Oh!'

He took a step back and leaned against the edge of a table. He was about to say something, but changed his mind. He covered his face with his hands and let out what could only be described as a cross between a sigh and a howl. I felt as if I'd been watching him for eternity. Then he glanced at me and said he was sorry. He looked sorry. He looked like the sorriest, saddest man I'd ever seen. So I went closer to him, close enough to smell the fresh sweat on his body. Our heads touched first, temple to temple, then our cheeks, then our lips. It was one of those kisses that is born somewhere deep inside you and grows as it moves to the surface, then bursts out of you. Then there is aftershock after aftershock as your whole body trembles. It's what an o.r.g.a.s.m used to feel like before you knew what an o.r.g.a.s.m was.

As we kissed I was convinced that I loved this man and that I wanted to be with him, no matter what. His touch seemed to be the touch my body was crying out for. If there were danger signals I couldn't hear them for all the noise in my head. When we finally let go of each other I knew there was only one thing I wanted to happen next. I told him I was leaving the party. I asked him if he wanted to leave with me. He said nothing, but bundled me out of the back door. A few minutes later he reappeared carrying our coats and fumbling for his keys. Suddenly I remembered Colette. I couldn't leave without telling her. I told Daniel I'd only be a minute and rushed back inside.

It took me ages to find her, but eventually I saw her sitting at the top of the stairs, smoking a cigarette.

'Look, Colette, I'm going, OK? Will you be all right to get a taxi home?'

I was hoping this would be enough and I could slip away without further explanation, but Colette knows me too well. 'Wait a minute!' She scudded down the stairs. 'You're going home with somebody?'

I hadn't told her, or anyone, about my first evening with Daniel. 'No. Yes. I'll tell you tomorrow.'

'You're going home with someone you shouldn't be going home with?'

'Look, I'll tell you tomorrow.'

I didn't want to be impatient with her but I didn't want her to persuade me out of anything either.

'It's important. It's big.'

'OK, then. I'm sure you have no idea what you're doing. I'll talk to you tomorrow.'

I touched her arm and walked out of the back door.

Daniel was waiting in the car. I asked him if he was all right to drive. I don't know if I was worried about him losing his licence or about him killing the two of us. He leaned over, took my hands in his and said he was fine. Then he kissed my cheek so softly and asked if I was all right about this. I still had no full idea what 'this' was but I knew I wanted it.

All the way back to my flat we said nothing. He parked on the street and held my hand in the lift. As soon as I closed the door behind us we fell upon each other, kissing wildly, even biting. We were naked in seconds. The way we made love that first time was furious, as if neither of us had ever done it before and might never do it again. It was profoundly physical, yet I felt as though I couldn't separate my mind from what was going on. I felt as though something terrible would happen if he were ever to leave my body. And he, also, seemed to find less pleasure in that first time than a necessary relief. Our lovemaking would become more relaxed, but that night we were both exorcizing something.

Of course he couldn't stay the night. We both slept and when we woke it was almost three o'clock. He had to get up and leave. As he walked out of the door, with one last hurried but pa.s.sionate kiss, I should have felt something like guilt or remorse. But I didn't. I had either had a one-night stand with a married man or was about to begin a long-term affair with one, and everything in me hoped it was the latter. I had never felt pa.s.sion like that before and I desperately wanted more. All I could think of was him, his touch, his smell, his body. All I wanted was to have him again.

The following day was Sunday so I slept in. I stayed in the bed we had made love in, replaying our night over and over. If my memory was to be wiped of everything but that, it would have been enough.

Some time late in the afternoon, after I had finally dragged myself out of bed and taken a shower, my door buzzed. It was Daniel. I let him up.

'I want you to know,' he said, 'that last night was amazing. I love you. I want to keep seeing you.'

I guess I had my answer.

Since we had been engaged for more than thirty-six hours and I still had no ring, Keith decided we were taking Monday afternoon off to go shopping. I was less than useless at work that day so my boss had no problem letting me go. In fact, everybody at work was still bemused by my announcement. Most people in the office didn't take me for the marrying kind, especially those who were privy to my recent romantic history. But everybody wished me well; some of them meant it, others looked forward to another crisis. You know the sort those who lead monumentally boring lives but take unnatural delight in the messes other people make.

I skipped down the beautifully restored staircase of our carefully preserved Georgian building and lunged into the pink light of a warm April afternoon. I felt positively buoyant.

We had arranged to meet for a coffee first in Lily's Cafe. It had become a regular spot for the two of us. It was central, offered good coffee, great cakes, friendly service and was always open. It was one of my favourite places. It occurred to me one day when I was sitting there waiting for Keith (I was early for once) that this was something I hadn't done in a long time. I hadn't dated. I hadn't simply gone out with somebody to the cinema or to restaurants or to the pub. And I liked it. There was something pure about meeting your boyfriend at a cafe, then going to the cinema. Or getting dressed up for dinner in a special place, then going home to fall asleep watching a video. When you have an affair with a married man in a small city, you spend a lot of time behind closed doors.

Keith was waiting for me, and he had ordered me a cappuccino. It was all falling into place. Here was the man who would look after me for the rest of my life. He would open doors, order drinks, remind me when the bills were due, fix the was.h.i.+ng-machine, cut the gra.s.s, talk to my parents, program the remote control, and buy me jewellery. I could live with this. As he sat by the window, illuminated by the afternoon sun and the pale pink s.h.i.+rt he had changed into on leaving work, he was the very picture of connubial bliss.

As soon as he saw me approaching the table he stood up and kissed me somewhat formally on the cheek. 'Hey, honey,' he said, holding out a chair for me.

'Hey,' I said, with what I intended to be warm emphasis.

'I don't know if you've thought about what you'd like,' he began immediately, 'but I was looking in McDermott's window and they have some lovely stones.'

'No,' I said, surprised, 'I haven't thought about it. I'm sure all the rings are lovely.'

'Oh, sure, they might look nice but you have to know what you're getting. An engagement ring isn't just any piece of jewellery.'

'Oh!'

'Well, not only will you have it for ever but you'll wear it for ever and probably hand it down to your children and grandchildren.'

'Yeah... I suppose so...' I'd never thought of it like that.

'I want it to be the right one for you.'

'I'm sure I'll like them all.'

'I don't want you to rush it now, I want you to be sure.'

'It's fine, Keith. Let's go and pick a ring.' I wished he wouldn't make such a big deal of it.

'Right, we'll go so,' he said, pus.h.i.+ng away the last of his coffee. 'We want to give ourselves plenty of time.'

'Sure. Fine.'

By the time we made it to McDermott's and entered their richly carpeted emporium, the euphoria I had been feeling at the start of the afternoon had almost dissipated.

Unlike many of my peers, I had never had a particular interest in engagement rings. I had never pored over the fingers of my engaged friends or sisters, I had never cruised the windows of jewellery shops, I had never held my left hand in the air and fantasized about diamonds.

Neither had I ever asked the price.

I was astounded.

I had no idea that these tiny pieces of stone and metal could cost so much. Frankly, I felt a little nauseous. Was I really going to let Keith pay out several thousand euro of his money to buy me a ring, symbol of our love, hopeful indicator of our future together? As far as he was concerned, no ring was big enough or expensive enough, and he knew what he was talking about. He kept asking about carats and clarity and other things I'd never heard of. I tried on several: a solitaire so big it made my wrist hurt, a clump of three diamonds, a clump of five that dazzled so much I had to look away, then an emerald cl.u.s.ter that would have been useful in a street fight. They looked like interlopers on my hand. The jeweller detected something of my discomfort and a.s.sured Madam that many young ladies are unsure at first which ring suits them best. I found Sir's consideration even more suffocating and finally I turned to Keith and asked if we could leave.

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