the time Harry had done the same, I felt okay again.
It had been years since I’d traveled with anyone but Tom. It was an adventure, like the start of a holiday, where you think anything can happen.
“He didn’t suspect anything, did he?” asked Harry when we were having a quick drink at the bar before boarding the plane.
I shook my head. “I’m so used to hiding things from him now. He didn’t suspect a thing.”
“Nor did Emma,” he said. “Mind you, she’s always thinking about work. I doubt she’s even noticed I’ve gone.”
I knew Tom would’ve noticed I’d gone. I knew I’d pay the price when I returned.
Our flight was only ninety minutes long and it seemed by the time we got on and had a drink it was time to get off again. I was disappointed; I enjoyed sitting with Harry in the cramped cabin. It was good to be able to be with him without worrying about someone seeing us. I’d had a quick look around the cabin as we entered, and I know Harry did, too. When everyone was seated, he walked the length of the plane and I know he was checking to see whether there was anyone he knew. When he came back, he sat down and said, “All safe,” and kissed me.
The flight was great, not too crowded and with a smooth takeoff. It seemed to go by in a flash. Landing has always terrified me, though, and as we approached Charles de Gaulle airport, I squeezed my hands tightly to take my mind off what was happening.
Harry looked down at my lap. “Are you okay? Your knuckles are white.”
I nodded. “I hate this. I don’t mind flying, but this . . .” We bumped onto the runway and I caught my breath.
“We’re here now.” He held my hands and gently rubbed them. “You’re okay.”
I tried to smile. “We’re alive!”
He laughed. “That bad, eh? You should have said, honey.”
“It’s stupid, I know,” I said. “I know all about there being more chance of an accident if you’re crossing the road, but it still terrifies me every time.”
He stroked my face with the back of his hand. I leaned against his hand and kissed it. “Do you remember I told you Tom and I went to New York a couple of years ago?”
He nodded.
“Tom was sulking on the flight and when it was time to land, he deliberately turned to talk to the man sitting next to him, knowing I’d need someone to cling to. It was bad weather, too, windy and pouring with rain, which made it even more scary for me. I was in bits when we got off the plane.”
Harry’s mouth tightened. “He’s a really nice guy, your husband.”
I looked away, ashamed suddenly that I was still married to Tom. “Don’t let’s think about him now. I want it just to be us this weekend.”
* * *
? ? ?
Our hotel was small, with only twenty rooms, and in the Pigalle area in northern Paris, where old-style cabarets mixed with hip new bars and restaurants. The Moulin Rouge was right at the end of the street. The other staff from work who would be at the conference were staying in a different hotel near the Champs-élysées; there was a casino nearby that they wanted to go to. They’d shown no interest in where we were staying, except to check with me that we weren’t staying at their hotel. This was a weekend away for them and they didn’t want their boss hanging around with them at night.
“This is so beautiful,” I said when we entered the lobby. “The last time I was in Pigalle was when I was eighteen and backpacking. We stayed in dormitories and had to bring our own sleeping bags.”
This hotel was as different from that as it could be, with its Moorish tiles and crimson velvet chairs and nineteenth-century oil paintings adorning the walls.
He laughed. “I knew you’d like it.” He held me to him and I felt his breath against my cheek, making me shiver with anticipation. “I chose