had ever told me a direct lie. Though how would I know? But this was a lie; I knew it.
* * *
? ? ?
I worked hard all day but I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. Why was I just lying down and taking this? I was his wife and I didn’t want to lose him. I looked up at the clock. It was nearly four. Time to act. I would go to Paris, too. If I did that, nothing could happen between Harry and Ruby. I knew I’d feel a fool, gate-crashing their little party, but what was the alternative?
I took my laptop from the office; I would work in the hotel room. I drove home and quickly packed an overnight bag. Minutes later I was in my car, heading toward Manchester airport.
I hurried from the car park to the terminal building. The check-in line was pretty long and I stood against a wall, away from the crowd, waiting for Harry to arrive. I didn’t want to buy a ticket until I was certain he was definitely taking that flight. I knew he wouldn’t have arrived before me; he was never early for anything.
I waited and waited, scouring the crowds for Harry. I didn’t want to send him a message, I wanted to surprise him. Deep down I knew he’d be shocked, rather than surprised, but I’d gone past caring about that. The line at the check-in grew shorter. I looked at my watch impatiently. It was now after seven o’clock, prime time for traffic problems around Manchester. He needed to get a move on. I took my passport and credit card out of my bag, realizing I should get a ticket now rather than wait for Harry to turn up. If he only just got there on time I might be too late to buy one. I went over to the ticket office and stood in the short queue there. The woman in front of me had emptied her handbag onto the desk in an effort to find her passport and I turned away, exasperated.
Then I saw him. He sauntered through the departures concourse carrying his bag as though he had all the time in the world. He looked much more relaxed than I would be if I was arriving that late for a flight. He reached the stand for Air France and stood at the back of the queue. I thought he must be taking a different flight from Ruby’s and my heart lifted with relief. He took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing his forearms. They were tanned and muscular and even at that distance made me weak at the knees. His hair was tousled and when his face broke out into a huge grin I felt myself respond. I smiled back and was just about to wave, when I realized he wasn’t smiling at me. He hadn’t even seen me.
Just when I’d taken a few steps toward him a woman brushed past me, darting through the crowds. She was tall and slender, with dark brown hair and that pink complexion that blushes easily. She was blushing now and laughing, too. She went up behind Harry and did that thing where you tap on one shoulder but stand on the other side. He swung one way and didn’t see anyone, then turned the other way and saw her. His face lit up in a huge smile. He reached out and put his arms around her, hugging her so hard he almost lifted her from the ground.
And still I was persuading myself, well, okay, they are friends and he’s hugging her. He can have a female friend, right? I can be a cool wife. I took another step toward him. But then he cupped her face in his hands and gave her the sweetest, most gentle kiss on her mouth. She was wearing a little silk vest and blue jeans and as she raised her arms to wrap them around his neck, I saw her back, pale and soft, and watched his hands slide around her waist, under her vest, to stroke her skin. A woman nudged Harry to indicate the queue was moving on. He and Ruby blushed and I saw them apologize. He took Ruby’s passport from her and opened it. I saw him smile and say something to