The Affair

by Bunty Avieson

  He must have been partly convincing because a kind-faced sprightly woman in her seventies smiled a friendly greeting as she passed, and Leo plucked up the courage to ask if she knew Nina Lambert.

  ‘Who? No, I don’t think I know her. Sorry.’

  Nina had gone, dissolved into the air like a wisp. He couldn’t understand it. Where was she? It must have been something pretty bad to have kept her from him. Perhaps her mother had suddenly taken ill and she had had to race back to Canada? Or maybe something very trivial and ordinary had kept her away from the park last week. The flu? How would he know? How could she contact him? She would turn up this week with a perfectly reasonable excuse and Leo would feel foolish for having been so worried. Leo sighed and looked around him, hoping for some sign, something that was unmistakably Nina.

  Letterboxes lined the foyer, each with a neatly stencilled name. Avery, McKean, Gerstle, Latham, Watson, Wilde. Dozens of names divided into neat rows of six. That must be how many apartments there were to each floor. Hardy. Muschamp. Lewin. Molloy. Porritt. Stubbs. It was a big building. Leo scanned them all. There was no Lambert.

  He wondered what to do. He wanted to see Nina, to talk to her. He had been unable to concentrate on anything else all week. So he had come here. He was sure this was the apartment block she had disappeared into when she left the taxi that day they met and she turned his world upside down. Had she said anything that would indicate which floor she lived on? He tried to remember.

  Nina, my pretty Nina, where are you?

  Leo pulled from his pocket a white envelope. He placed it on top of the row of letterboxes. It looked brazen and obvious propped up for everyone to see as they walked in. He didn’t like that. But his heart was too full. He couldn’t wait. He would burst if he didn’t express how he felt. It had come to him as a revelation, the sudden overwhelming realisation that he was in love – for the first time in his life, unless he counted ten-year-old Kimmie Butler from next-door, which he didn’t. His feelings for Nina easily eclipsed those. Suddenly the songs he had sneered at made sense. He had so much he wanted to say to Nina. He felt foolish and happy and clever and vibrant, all at the same time. He didn’t want to scare her but she had to know something of the intensity of his feelings. This wasn’t a game for him and she had to know that.

  He had jotted down some of his garbled thoughts in the blind faith he would find some way to get them to her. He left the letter there, telling himself it was in the lap of the gods, and they had been kind to him so far.

  *

  Nina spotted the envelope as soon as she pushed open the foyer doors. It looked out of place. She didn’t get personal, handwritten notes to Nina Lambert. She was Nina Wilde. Mrs Wilde. James’s wife. She felt a ripple of unease.

  Her arms were full of bags of fresh vegetables from Patty’s garden and Tiger was straining at his leash. She set her bags down and slipped the white envelope into her pocket. James was a few seconds behind her, bringing their cases from the boot of the car. She heard him panting as he came through the foyer door.

  ‘I’ll get the mail. You go on up,’ said Nina. She couldn’t look at him. She felt inexplicable panic. She didn’t want James opening the letterbox. She had no way of knowing what else may be in there. This letter had something to do with Leo, she was sure of it. But he shouldn’t know her name, Nina or Lambert. How did he find them out? What game was he playing? And had he come here? Surely not. She had been careful to compartmentalise her life. It was how she managed to deny the feelings of guilt that hovered below the surface of her consciousness. Nina considered James and their marriage as her day-to-day existence, while Leo was her fantasy, not entirely real. The thought that James and Leo could at some point collide was too horrific.

  The happiness of the car trip with James, the feeling of being connected again, evaporated in an instant. Suddenly home didn’t feel so safe any more. She felt it had been invaded.

  Stop it – this was completely irrational, she told herself. It had been a long day and she was just tired. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply. There was a bundle of letters, mostly bills and junk mail. An apartment circular telling of body corporate rates that were due. Some fabulous special offers she had no interest in. She rifled quickly through it all. Everything seemed normal. Nothing untoward in there.

  Nina took the lift up to their apartment on the sixth level.

  Once inside she looked anxiously around. She couldn’t have said what she was looking for, she just felt on edge. But everything was fine, exactly as she had left it. She should just relax, she told herself.

  Nina unpacked the vegetables and fed Tiger, tensely aware of the white handwritten envelope in her pocket. James went into the study to phone Felix and Nina found herself alone. She stepped out onto the balcony and wedged herself behind the door. It meant she couldn’t be seen from the room or any other balcony. It was unnecessary but Nina felt a strong need to be hidden when she opened the envelope.

  The light was fading as the sun sank behind the city buildings, and the shadows lengthened across the water in front of her. The first of the evening’s fruit bats flew across the sky. The air was still and the harbour calm. Some voices carried up from a lower balcony but they were a long way away. Nina felt alone. She let out a deep sigh, then tore open the envelope. A handful of dried blood-red rose petals spilled out onto the tiled balcony floor. She unfolded a sheaf of white writing paper.

  Darling Nina,

  I miss you, my lovely.

  I feel like I was in the middle of the most interesting, all-absorbing conversation of my life when suddenly we were cut short in mid-sentence.

  And yet there is an underlying feeling that has made it bearable. And that is joy. Joy at finding you. Joy at knowing you are in the world.

  I have been in a mood that I can describe in no other way than being stunned. The sweetness and intensity of our time together is almost overwhelming.

  I feel that we have the whole spectrum of potentials before us. At one end I feel an intense happiness at having discovered someone so special, loving, funny and sexy. At the other end is the urge to place myself irrevocably in your life. I know it is presumptuous, but I believe that you feel the same. I know it from the tenderness of your touch and the softness in your eyes.

  It’s rare to click with someone in the way we have clicked and I cannot treat that lightly. I know I am breaking all our rules. But I do it with lightness in my heart. I want to come out from behind my mask and stand naked before you.

  Please meet me on my boat, Bessie, at 12 on Saturday. I have so much to say to you, so much I need to express. You have changed me, my darling Nina. I have missed you so much.

  Until Saturday,

  Your loving

  Count Mauro de March

  Nina felt the tears burn her cheeks and realised she was crying. Soundless tears that came from somewhere deep within her, spilling out of her eyes and down her face. What had she done? If she felt shamed before she opened the letter she felt doubly so now.

  It was as if he had just moved on a notch ahead of her, confident she would follow. And while he was going forward at a rapid rate, she had been going backward. Where they had been as one, now they were poles apart in their expectations and desires. She couldn’t love him. It wasn’t allowed. She realised that with a sickening, heartbreaking certainty.

  How does he know my name? He came to my home. Nina felt a ripple of panic shoot along the nerve endings under her skin. He was here. He could come here again. Anytime he chooses. The thought terrified her. ‘… the urge to place myself irrevocably in your life,’ he had written. NO, NO, NO. I have to get you out of my life!

  She felt vulnerable, spied on, threatened. She wished she could talk to James about this. What would he do? He would approach it logically. Had she given this man the impression they had a future? Yes. Had she encouraged him to such fervent feelings? Yes again. Would he understand that it could not go on? Would he just walk away meekly now that sh
e had suddenly just changed her mind? Oh my God. What if he doesn’t?

  Nina wanted James and marriage and fidelity and trust and all those things she had promised. She wanted to be there for him while he faced this tough time with the family business and his guilt over his mother’s stroke. He had once told her that he wanted to wake up next to her every morning for the rest of his life. That, she realised, was what she wanted too. How could she ever have doubted it? How could she have put it at risk?

  What was I thinking? Nina dabbed at her eyes and took deep gulps of the night air.

  She screwed the letter into a ball and placed it on the barbecue, then picked up some matches lying nearby and set it alight. The flames devoured it in a few seconds. It was a decisive action that felt good. She was banishing Leo, wiping him out of her future. It was what had to be done. How could she convey that to him? How could she get him out of her life without any hint to James of what had gone on?

  And was that really what she wanted? Yes, yes, yes. Never to see him again … to walk away … to deny that part of her heart that cried out for him, his smile, his touch? No, no, no. The pain was excruciating.

  Nina didn’t sleep that night. While James snored softly she paced the balcony, watching the moon rise across the cloudless sky, climb above her head and eventually start to descend. She would ignore the letter. It was best if she never saw him again. It would be the cleanest for everybody. She made herself a mug of tea.

  No. That was cruel. After what they had shared she owed him an explanation at the very least. A farewell. Give him a sense of closure. Wasn’t that what the psychologists would say?

  No. She slammed the mug onto the table. She didn’t owe him anything. She couldn’t trust herself to see him. Their connection was too powerful. She was married. She owed only James and she had betrayed him enough. To see Leo again would only compound her betrayal.

  No. That was no good. It had gone too far. His letter showed that. She had to see him. One more time. To convince him to stay away. Make him understand it wasn’t allowed to be.

  Nina picked up the mug and resumed pacing. She stopped and looked out at the reflection of the moon on the still harbour.

  He wanted to place himself irrevocably in her life. She felt scared. The tone in the letter didn’t reflect the carefree playful fun they had shared. The game was over. He wanted more. What had she done?

  *

  Leo pottered about on the boat all morning. He degreased the winches, using kerosene and a toothbrush to get into the tricky corners. Then he applied liberal amounts of fresh new grease. He topped up the fuel container of the two-burner galley stove with methylated spirits and cleaned out last night’s grains from the stove-top espresso maker.

  The end of the cabin met in a V-point that had been converted into a large bed. It was where the crew took it in turns to get a bit of sleep on the rare occasions they sailed overnight.

  He tucked the headsails into the stowage space underneath the bed and arranged the cushions on top. He frowned. It looked too much like a boudoir, so he picked up the cushions and rearranged them, flinging them around haphazardly. It looked far more casual and he was satisfied.

  All the while Carmina Burana played loudly in the background. He had brought a few more CDs from home. He wasn’t sure what Nina’s tastes were so he grabbed a bit of everything.

  He moved onto the brass lamps on the walls, removing the tubs from their gimbal fittings, which allowed them to sway with the boat without spilling their contents, and filled them with kerosene. In each one he placed a new wick.

  There were half-a-dozen small ones and one larger one at the cabin entrance to light the steps down into the cabin. He replaced each lamp, cleaning the glass tops and standing back to admire them. He would light them just before 12 o’clock. Even though some daylight reached into the cabin, they would create just the right mood. He checked his watch. She was still half-an-hour away. If she was coming. Of course she was coming, he told himself. And if she didn’t then he would find her, somehow. He would go back to her apartment block. He would try the Canadian Embassy. He would phone the Eyebrow Post Office, if there was such a thing, and get an address for Jake Lambert, barbershop singer. ‘I need to get in touch with your daughter.’

  He would not give up. His excitement continued to build. He was desperate to see her.

  *

  James kissed Nina goodbye. It was a long and lingering kiss.

  ‘I won’t be late, darling,’ he promised. ‘Tonight it’s just you and me. A romantic night in for the two of us. Perhaps you could slip into something slinky and we could send Tiger out for the night. There is a cute little puppy down the road who I am sure would enjoy his company.’

  Nina laughed. She clung to James’s neck, inhaling his scent, feeling the solidity of his shoulders and back.

  ‘What are you going to do today?’ he asked.

  Nina’s eyes slid off into the distance.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said vaguely. ‘Go for a walk maybe. Take Tiger out to visit some of his lady friends in the park.’

  Nina had made her decision some time over the past two days but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when. She had looked at her predicament from every angle and gradually come to the decision that it was best if she did go to see Leo. Just one last time. She had rehearsed what she would say. She would be cool and direct. She would keep it as simple as possible, telling him she loved her husband, while being as careful of Leo’s feelings as she could. She would avoid all patronising cliches. She would not say ‘I love you but I’m not in love with you’ or ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’

  She would make him see that she was wrong to have ever started this, she realised that now. She had made her decision and she was immovable on it. He must never contact her again. It was over. Somehow she would say all of these things nicely. Naturally he would be disappointed, but he would be stoic and accepting. He would wish her well, she would wish him well and then she would leave. She would come home and resume her life with James.

  It seemed straightforward enough and she held tightly to that thought. She had the unsettling feeling that she was not being realistic but she told herself it had to go this way. She had to set things right, for everybody’s sake.

  Nina and Tiger set off along the path through the park. The sky was overcast but the temperature mild. Still, the park was busy. Even without sun there were sunbathers in bikinis napping on towels. Two teams of teenage boys enjoyed a loud and energetic game of cricket. When she walked past that tree Nina deliberately looked away. To distract herself she thought instead of the rabbit lady and wondered where she was today.

  As she followed the path along the low stone fence at the water’s edge to the marina, she felt self-conscious. Was he watching her from one of those boats?

  It was only a quarter to twelve when she reached the Cruising Yacht Club. She allowed Tiger to stop and sniff another dog on the footpath. It was a border collie puppy and more than twice Tiger’s size. But Tiger was fearless. Nina smiled, despite her nerves. It released some tension.

  With a deep breath she picked up Tiger and tucked him into her large, loose shoulder bag and entered the gate to the marina. She followed the yachties who were heading for their boats, carrying sailing bags and eskies. They all seemed purposeful, intent on their business, nodding to each other and exchanging the occasional brief greeting. A laughing group of men in suits and women in hats suddenly engulfed her. They seemed to be forming a procession behind a pram and she found herself being carried along with them.

  A woman thrust a huge brightly wrapped box into her hands. ‘I left my camera in the car. Can you give this to Kate?’

  Nina looked at her blankly.

  ‘You are part of Scarlett’s christening lunch?’ insisted the woman. She stared at Nina, obviously waiting for some sort of response.

  Nina couldn’t think what to say. She wondered what the woman was talking about. She was in too much of a state of anxiety t
o process sudden, unexpected information. ‘Sorry?’

  The woman clearly thought Nina was an idiot and snatched the box back in a huff. The group disappeared inside the doors to the function rooms, leaving Nina alone outside. She felt out of place, like a piece of flotsam being swept along in other people’s currents. Nina desperately didn’t want to draw attention to herself but she knew her very hesitancy made her stand out.

  She was glad of her hat and sunglasses. She felt conspicuous and half-expected to hear someone call out her name. Some business associate of James’s. Or Felix and Miranda, here for an impromptu harbourside lunch. She kept her head down and headed for the boats moored to a maze of floating pontoons. She strode purposefully ahead, pretending she knew where she was going.

  The boats looked even more impressive up close, so much pristine white fibreglass and gleaming steel. They screamed of money and privilege. A middle-aged couple in shorts scrubbed the deck of their boat, nodding to her as she passed. She walked past dozens of boats. Their names were clearly painted on their sides. Unicorn. Nerves Like Steel. Fishmonger. Lady 6. Jack of Hearts. Anaconda. But no Bessie.

  The pontoon swayed slightly beneath her feet while Tiger struggled in her bag. Lots of interesting sights and smells for him. He wanted to sniff around, but Nina held him tightly to her. At the end of the row Nina realised this was going to be harder than she had first thought. She was tempted to give up and go home but now she was here that seemed cowardly. She retraced her steps and approached the couple cleaning their boat.

  ‘Oh yes, Bessie,’ said the woman. ‘Lovely timber sloop. You’ll find her up there.’ She gestured along another branch of the pontoon.

  Nina thanked her and followed her directions. She felt incredibly nervous. She didn’t want to be here and she didn’t want to have to do this. But she knew she had to set things right. She was obsessed with the idea that James would somehow find out. It was incongruous that she should be so worried now when she had been blissfully cavalier about it before. It had been part of the excitement, all that risk and danger. As she looked at herself and her behaviour, she wasn’t proud.