An Autumn Affair

by Alice Ross

  ‘I think he must be very stupid man, leaving such a beautiful woman alone.’

  Miranda gulped. As corny as the line was, the way he said it caused her stomach to flip over. ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she eventually replied. The last thing she wanted was people feeling sorry for her so she injected as much bravado as possible into her tone. ‘I love having the freedom to do whatever I like.’

  Eduardo’s gaze grew even darker. ‘And what do you like?’

  Damn! She’d walked right into that one. Miranda’s heart began to beat a tad faster as a cocktail of excitement and panic coursed through her veins. This was getting heavy, but:

  a) she was too drunk to care, and

  b) she was enjoying the flirtation.

  Eduardo plumped down on the edge of the neighbouring sunbed, before reaching across and trailing a finger down her cheek. ‘Do you like this?’ he asked, his voice now husky with lust.

  Looking into those delicious brown eyes, framed with lashes most women would kill for, Miranda found herself devoid of the ability to speak, the ability to move, the ability, in fact, to do anything other than nod.

  ‘What about this?’ he continued, this time trailing his finger down the side of her neck.

  Again Miranda nodded.

  ‘And this?’ He leaned over and kissed her. A deep, passionate kiss that set every nerve in her body on fire and caused her head to reel. She had been well and truly lost. So much so that, before she knew what was happening, the deed had been done, without her moving from her sunbed. It happened only once. Eduardo’s mobile had rung immediately afterwards and he’d scuttled off, muttering something about Lydia. Miranda hadn’t taken much notice. For over an hour, she’d been too shocked to even move. The whole thing had been completely surreal. Then, when she had eventually peeled herself off the sunbed and staggered up to the house, she’d headed straight for bed and fallen into a fitful sleep.

  The following day, Eduardo appeared at the house looking like butter wouldn’t melt. As courteous as ever, he’d given Josie her tennis lesson, then left. Miranda briefly wondered if she’d dreamt the whole sordid episode. Then progressed to dismissing it as a mere drunken fumble; nothing to beat herself up about. But a few weeks on, one missed period and six pregnancy tests proved it had been much more than that. Precisely why she shouldn’t be wasting time in Marbella, pretending to enjoy herself. She should be at home. Arranging things. That, however, involved a huge amount of energy. Energy she didn’t have. On the bedside table, her mobile buzzed. She swiped it up. Her mother’s number flashed at her. Miranda heaved a frustrated sigh. The woman had been trying to contact her for three days now, but Miranda had flicked off the phone each time. With a stab of guilt, she supposed she’d better answer it this time.

  ‘Hello,’ she barked.

  ‘Oh, hello, dear,’ said her mother. ‘I’m sorry to bother you. Are you busy?’

  ‘I’m in Spain.’

  ‘That’s nice. Is Josie with you?’

  ‘No,’ Miranda snapped. ‘Josie’s at home. I’m here with a friend.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her mother sounded weary. ‘Well, I just wanted to let you know that your father is going into hospital for more tests on Thursday.’

  Miranda rolled her eyes. Her father was always going into hospital for tests. ‘What for this time?’ she asked, unable to quell the impatience in her voice.

  ‘His heart again, dear. You know how it is.’

  Don’t I just, Miranda resisted saying. Given that that’s all you talk about every time you call.

  ‘He’d love to see you, you know.’

  Miranda blew out an impatient breath. ‘I know, Mum. And I will get across there soon. It’s just that I’m very …’

  ‘… Busy. I know. Well, not to worry. You just let us know when you can fit us in.’

  Miranda ended the call, feeling ten times worse than she had when she’d answered it. Now, on top of everything else, a whole heap of guilt had been dumped on her regarding her inadequacies as a daughter. Add that to her inadequacies as a wife, mother and friend, and her CV looked far from impressive.

  *****

  Julia permitted herself a metaphorical pat on the back. This was the third Friday shop she’d completed, and the third time she hadn’t bumped into Max. But the best of it was that this week she wasn’t even bothered by not bumping into him. Well, not much, anyway. She hadn’t even, much to her own amazement, lingered long in the cereal aisle. And, the biggest achievement of all was that she suspected she might have purchased every single item on her shopping list. After the forgetting of the loo rolls last week, which had, according to Faye, been a sin worse than any of the deadly ones, normality had been resumed. And, although ‘normality’ in Julia’s life could be substituted with words like ‘mundane’, ‘boring’ and ‘humdrum’, she concluded it was for the best. What, after all, had she been hoping for if she had bumped into Max again? That he would take her away from it all? Whisk her off into the sunset? Of course he wouldn’t. He’d moved on with his life. Done exciting things. Travelled. Enjoyed a successful career. As well as no doubt savouring a string of beautiful, equally successful girlfriends. No, the two of them wouldn’t have a thing in common now. So Julia should just accept the fact that her destiny did not include excitement; that there were two sorts of people in the world – the doers and the plodders. And she was well and truly ensconced in the plodder category.

  Loading up the boot of her car with carrier bags, she started at the sound of a voice behind her. A deep, melodious voice. And one oh-so-familiar.

  ‘Julia.’

  She whipped around to find Max striding across the car park towards her. Her heart leaped into her throat, while the carrier bag she’d been about to hurl into the car tumbled back into the trolley.

  ‘M-Max,’ she stammered, as he came to stand directly in front of her. ‘How, um, are you?’

  ‘All the better for seeing you,’ he replied, with a smile that sent delicious shivers of lust down Julia’s spine. ‘I was hoping to bump into you again.’

  Julia felt colour rise in her cheeks.

  ‘How’ve you been since I last saw you?’

  Miserable. Ratty. Confused, Julia resisted saying. Completely pathetic given that Max probably hadn’t given her a second thought. Although something about the way he looked at her made her suspect that might not be true. ‘Okay,’ she muttered.

  ‘I wondered if you’d like to go for a coffee.’

  Julia’s mouth dropped open. Coffee? With Max? On a Friday afternoon? She couldn’t. She totally couldn’t. She wasn’t mentally prepared for that kind of meeting. It was fifty steps ahead of a quick chat in the cereal aisle. Besides, she had things to do. Ironing, for instance. Lots of ironing. And the twins’ tea to make. And she was a married woman. She couldn’t just go for coffee with an ex-boyfriend. What would people think if they saw her?

  ‘I’d love to,’ she replied.

  Chapter Five

  Much to her own amazement, Julia immediately suggested a venue: the coffee shop at the garden centre along the road. Max followed her there in his Audi A4. A classy, understated car that seemed perfect for him. Paul had a flash Jag which always embarrassed Julia. On the rare occasions she had to drive it, she always felt honour-bound to explain that it wasn’t hers. But no flashy boys’ toys for Max. No flashy anything. Even his tan was subtle. And every time she looked in her rear-view mirror, there he was. Looking straight back at her – with those amazing grey-green eyes. Eyes that reignited feelings Julia never, in a million years, thought she’d ever experience again. But this couldn’t possibly be right. She shouldn’t be experiencing those feelings. She should never have accepted his invitation. What would they talk about? Would he think her the most boring woman on the planet? What the hell was she doing? And why did it seem to be taking an interminable amount of time to reach their destination, when it was actually only a ten-minute drive away?

  ‘Good choice,’ said Max, when they eventually reache
d the garden centre and he climbed out of his Audi, which he’d parked right next to Julia’s Fiat. For the first time in her life, Julia felt embarrassed by her car. Perhaps she should take Paul up on his long-standing, oft-repeated offer of a sporty Merc after all. It would undoubtedly impress Max a lot more than a ten-year-old battered Punto.

  ‘Do you bring all your ex-boyfriends here?’

  Her head continuing to whirr, Julia blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Hardly,’ she tutted. ‘Should we sit outside?’ She indicated the pretty garden to the side of them, with half a dozen wooden tables and benches, none of which were occupied.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Max, looking at her in a way that implied he was not referring to the potted plants.

  With shaking legs, Julia chose the table furthest away from the parking area. Max slid into the seat opposite.

  ‘I can only stay half an hour,’ she said, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward.

  ‘That’s okay,’ he said, his soothing tone and the way he regarded her so intently causing Julia’s toes to curl. ‘I’m grateful you’ve come at all.’ Diverting his gaze to the sugar bowl on the table, he added, ‘I’ve thought about you a lot over the last few weeks.’

  A sweep of euphoria washed over Julia, which she desperately tried to quell. ‘Have you?’ she asked, silently kicking herself for how lame that sounded.

  ‘I even dug out some old photos,’ he admitted, his gaze meeting hers again. ‘We had some good times together, didn’t we?’

  Julia gulped, her eyes locked on his. ‘Great times.’

  For a few moments neither of them said anything as they continued to stare at one another. The moment was broken by the waitress coming to take their order.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Max, in a much lighter tone as the girl scuttled off. ‘That’s all in the past now. And I don’t suppose you would change a thing. You’ve got your husband and your lovely family.’

  ‘I have,’ said Julia. She opened her mouth to tell him it was all far from lovely, but promptly shut it again. Whingeing about her boring domestic situation would only make her sound pathetic. And why would Max be remotely interested in any of it? She wasn’t even interested in it. Probably because it wasn’t the least bit interesting. She’d much rather ask him questions about his past. ‘So what about you?’ she ventured. ‘Is there anyone special in your life?’

  At that moment, the waitress returned with their coffees and Julia held her breath, desperate to know the answer, yet dreading it at the same time.

  Max picked up his cup and raised it to his lips before replying. ‘There was someone. Ellie. An American fund manager. Very successful. Very beautiful. Very …’ He broke off. ‘We were together for four years but it didn’t work out.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ muttered Julia, thinking it really wasn’t a shame at all. The woman sounded far too … very everything Julia wasn’t.

  Max shrugged. ‘Just one of those things, I guess. Nobody’s fault. We just kind of … drifted apart. Work and stuff. You know how it is …’

  Julia nodded understandingly, despite the fact she had no idea how it was. The nearest she’d come to being a career girl was delivering newspapers when she was fourteen. ‘Sounds like you’ve had a successful career,’ she said.

  Max wrinkled his nose. ‘If you measure success in monetary terms, then yes, I suppose I have. But I can’t honestly say I’ve ever enjoyed my work. You know what I really wanted to be … a history teacher.’ He blurted it out – at exactly the same time as Julia.

  They laughed. Their gaze fused and something warm and velvety melted in the pit of Julia’s stomach.

  ‘You remembered,’ he said, beaming at her. ‘And what about your career ambitions? Did you become an interpreter for the United Nations?’

  Julia leaned back in her chair, suddenly feeling at ease. Two decades might have passed since they’d seen each other but this was still the same old Max. The Max she had loved to distraction. ‘I wish,’ she confessed. ‘My career didn’t even get off the starting block.’

  Max raised a curious eyebrow.

  ‘Marriage. The twins. I started going out with Paul in my final year. Fell pregnant just after graduation. Not planned, I hasten to add.’

  At Max’s sympathetic expression, words began tumbling from Julia’s mouth. Words, she realised, she’d never vocalised before.

  ‘I don’t know what happened really. As pathetic as that sounds, I was just so shell-shocked having these two tiny beings relying on me for survival 24/7 that I couldn’t think about anything else. My head was full of semolina until they were about eight. In the meantime, Paul’s career took off and mine fell at the first hurdle.’

  ‘It’s not too late,’ said Max. ‘You’re still young. You could pick it up again, couldn’t you?’

  Julia shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start. I’ve tried to keep my hand in. Reading Spanish books, listening to Spanish radio via the internet when no one’s around. That kind of stuff. But where to begin turning that into a career, I wouldn’t have a clue.’

  ‘Yes, you would,’ countered Max. ‘The Julia I knew could have done anything she wanted.’

  Julia heaved a heavy sigh. ‘That girl’s long gone, I’m afraid,’

  ‘Not from where I’m sitting.’

  The sincerity of his tone, and the tender way he was looking at her, caused a strange tightening sensation in Julia’s chest. Her breath grew shallow. She glanced unseeing at her watch. ‘I’ve really got to go,’ she said, thrusting herself to her feet.

  Max nodded understandingly. He stood up and pulled out a business card from his back pocket. ‘It’s been good to talk.’ He pressed the card into her hand. ‘Give me a call if you’d like to do it again. Or we could go out for dinner.’

  Convinced her legs were about to cave beneath her – either that or she was about to have a coronary – Julia took the card and, with shaking hands, shoved it into her handbag. ‘I don’t think so. But thanks,’ she managed to croak.

  Julia drove back to Primrose Cottage on automatic pilot, diligently stopping at red lights, allowing a lorry to pull out in front of her, and swerving to avoid a roving pheasant. But she was aware of none of it, her head abuzz, yet again, with thoughts of Max. It really was incredible how, after all this time, he still made her feel so at ease. So special. But, on second thoughts, maybe it wasn’t so incredible after all. Their young, uncomplicated love had been so unique, so precious. And Julia had thrown it all away, based on nothing more than her own insecurities …

  ‘Do you really think you and Max will still be together when you finish uni?’ her friend Marie asked when the two of them were out shopping just weeks before the start of the university term.

  ‘Of course,’ replied Julia. ‘Why wouldn’t we be?’

  Marie shrugged. ‘Loads of reasons. New people, new interests, that kind of stuff. My cousin, Tracey, had been going out with this guy from being fourteen and they split up after just one term apart.’

  At the partaking of this unwanted snippet of information, Julia had the sensation of someone throwing a bucket of ice-cold water all over her. ‘Oh, look at these trousers,’ she exclaimed, desperate to change the subject. ‘I think I’ll try them on.’

  Thankfully, the diversion worked and they didn’t return to the matter of Marie’s cousin. Because, as much as Julia attempted to convince herself that she and Max were different – the bond between them earthquake-proof – a small part of her still had doubts.

  ‘Just because other people split up, doesn’t mean we will,’ Max assured her later that evening, when they were sitting in her back garden. ‘We have something very special.’

  ‘I know,’ agreed Julia. ‘But you might meet someone better than me. Someone prettier. And certainly cleverer.’

  ‘In my eyes nobody is prettier or cleverer than you,’ countered Max. ‘So please shut up and pass me those crisps.’

  Julia soon settled into life in York. She loved her course and made an effo
rt to join in some of the social activities. But Max was never far from her mind and, without him there, she never felt whole. They saw one another once a fortnight, each taking turns to visit the other, with Julia crossing off the days in-between. She loved it when Max came to York; loved snuggling up in her room, watching TV, content just to be with him.

  Cambridge though, was a different matter altogether. Max seemed desperate for her to fit in with his crowd of new friends, but Julia couldn’t shake the feeling they looked down their noses at her.

  ‘They’re a bit snobby here, aren’t they?’ she remarked to Max the first time she visited.

  ‘They’re not that bad,’ he batted back. ‘They’re actually all right once you get to know them.’

  But Julia didn’t want to get to know them. And they made it perfectly clear they didn’t want to get to know her.

  Then, twice in the Easter term, when Max was supposed to visit her in York, he called off.

  ‘Snowed under with work, Ju. You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she replied.

  But Julia did mind. Very much. The rot, she convinced herself, had set in.

  She made herself ill stewing on it. Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, lost all interest in her course, and couldn’t be bothered socialising.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Max asked concernedly when they spoke on the phone.

  ‘Fine. Honestly,’ she lied. Because she didn’t want to have the conversation on the phone. She wanted – and needed – to speak to him face-to-face.

  So, when she could stand it no longer, on a weekend when they’d no plans to see each other, she impulsively jumped on a train to Cambridge. She knew Max had a rugby match that weekend, so she headed straight for the pub where the players usually ended up after a game. And there he was. A long streak of mud on his left cheek, his hair sticking up all over the place, looking completely adorable. Surrounded by his team-mates, the group interspersed with several coltish blonde girls, Julia observed them for a while as they laughed and joked and handed round drinks. Max looked so happy. So content. So completely at ease. This was where he belonged. With all these beautiful, clever people in Cambridge. Not cooped up watching TV with her. She’d bet he couldn’t wait to get back down here after a weekend in York. No wonder he’d cried off the last couple of times. She’d never felt good enough for him. Never quite believed, even after all this time, that she’d been the one he really wanted. Now, though, not only did she feel completely out of his league, but also that their relationship must be stifling him, holding him back.