Red Dress

by Bridget Finklaire

  “Why are you so late?” he said. “Freddie’s not well, and Tilly’s split up with Joe!”

  “Oh no! I thought he was feeling better!” Katy looked puzzled. “And I thought she’d finished with Joe a while back?”

  “You should’ve been here!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “Where were you anyway?”

  “Went to Highgate with my friend Tony from school.”

  Richard frowned.

  “You know what I’m like, we got nattering and I didn’t realize it was so late!”

  Richard shoved the paper to the floor and switched off the television. “By the way, Shanti left a message. Can you ring her?”

  “I’ll call tomorrow. Bit late now.”

  “Nice time?”

  “Yeah! Great music. Loads of real ales.”

  Richard stood up. “I can see you sampled quite a few! I’m off to bed. You coming?”

  “Yep!” She switched the light off and staggered after him, clutching at the bannister as she went.

  “Did you ask them to dinner?”

  “Yeah. Mentioned they should come over one weekend.” It felt like a line in a play that someone else was delivering. Her hands were shaking as she undressed. Everything happened in slow-motion again, as she watched herself from the wings, accompanied by the sound of her heart pounding.

  “He’s an RAF Officer, isn’t he?” Richard was buttoning up his pajamas.

  “Yeah. Wing Commander, I think. He plays guitar!”

  “He should bring it with him so we can jam. You can sing the ‘doo-ups’ with his wife if you like?” He hauled himself into the super king-sized bed.

  “Sounds great!” Katy got in on the other side, leaving a gulf between them.

  “Night, Kit.”

  “Night.” She switched off the light and lay motionless on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her husband rolled over, farted, and let out a soft snore. She looked at his outline, a mountain of duvet twice the size of her. They were like Pooh Bear and Piglet. People must have pondered how they ever managed sex. Come to think of it, she wondered herself now, they were so incompatible. Even kissing was a mission. She had to lean her head right back and stand on tiptoe while he bent down to meet her.

  Heart still racing, her mind reviewing the events of the day, she realized sleep was evading her. She turned this way and that, and plumping up the pillow, she tried to calm down. Yoga Nidra, the sleep of the yogis, that was bound to work. Pranayama, breathwork. That would do the trick. Drifting down steps to pathways that led through doorways into forests didn’t have the right effect, either. It was no use; she was on fire. Maybe she could harness the arousal to initiate something with Richard? Turning her head towards him, she knew at once it wouldn’t work. She didn’t feel that way about him and hadn’t for years. Something had gone wrong and she couldn’t work it out. She’d shut down to him, but why? At 3.30 am, she slipped into a satin robe, the fabric soft and sensual against her naked body. Taking her phone from the dressing table, she locked herself in the bathroom, reading the entire message thread between her and Tony. Her eyes closed as she recalled the events leading up to the dark doorway. Lingering luxuriously on the intimate details of the drunken but passionate ending, she found sweet release. Returning to bed, a fitful sleep followed and at 6.30 am, she gave up and left Richard to his lie-in.

  Despite not drinking coffee for the last nine years, she decided this morning to swig back a strong espresso. Within minutes she knew she’d made a mistake. Soothing chamomile and lavender tea would have been better. Richard joined her at the kitchen table about twenty minutes later.

  “You’re up early!”

  “Couldn’t sleep. Bit of a hangover,” she said. “Turning into another migraine.”

  “That why you’re back on coffee?”

  “Thought it might help.”

  “Fried breakfast! That’s what you need. Greasy-Joe down the road?”

  Her phone buzzed.

  “Who the hell’s that on a Saturday morning?”

  “Dunno,” she said, diving for the phone with the fervor of a Rugby player about to score a try. With mounting panic, she stared at the screen. Flip, she hoped Rich hadn’t seen the name flash up. “Message from Shanti,” she said, her adrenals at full pelt.

  While Richard was fiddling with the kettle, she opened the message.

  Good morning, Gorgeous! Hope you slept well. I didn’t get a wink. Can’t stop thinking about you. Call you later. xxx

  Three kisses. What the hell was she going to do? Switching the phone to silent, she slipped it into her pocket.

  “Café down the road?” she asked. “The kids will want to come.”

  While Richard was showering and the children were deciding whether to join them or not, Katy pulled out her mobile to reply.

  Can’t stop thinking about you either. We need to talk. Don’t phone today. Family here. xxx

  Sitting in the Egg and Spoon with a mug of hot tea, a slice of white toast and a plate of full English Breakfast, Katy felt once more as if she was watching a movie of her life from a distance. It couldn’t really be happening, not to her. It was too bizarre. Her stomach lurched at the bacon and eggs, which she pushed around the plate before conceding defeat.

  “Not like you, Kit! You love fried breakfast!”

  “Must have drunk too much last night. Don’t fancy it!”

  “It’ll make you feel better! Best thing for a hangover!”

  “Can’t face it,” she said, sipping at her tea. Her body twitched as she felt her phone vibrate in her bag. She’d better leave it for now.

  Back in the safety of her own home, the family otherwise engaged, she slipped the mobile out.

  What about tomorrow? 1500hrs? I’ll be out on the bike. xxx

  Quickly responding before Richard noticed, she typed out

  Okay. Chat tomorrow at 3 pm. xxx

  * * *

  Tony had arrived home in the early hours, having taken an exorbitant taxi ride from Oxford station. Lauren was already in bed asleep. He tiptoed up to the spare room. It was more than his life was worth to disturb madam while she was slumbering. What a day! It had gone better than he’d expected, and he couldn’t believe what had unfolded. There was no stopping him now. He lay awake, naked, in the guest room, staring at the ceiling and recounting the events of the day. She was everything he wanted, and he couldn’t get her out of his system. His heart raced at the thought of her. He felt vibrant, vital, and horny as hell. He wanted her, now, and was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else. This was the longest he’d ever had to wait. Closing his eyes, he ran his hands towards his erection, recalling the details of the evening, and lingering on the episode in the doorway. Still sleep evaded him.

  At around 3.30 am, he picked up his phone and re-read the messages they’d sent each other. He could imagine her, in a soft, satin robe, smoothing her hands sensuously up her own thighs, her lips pouting, her breathing heavy as she pleasured herself. By six o’clock, he knew sleep had cheated him. After dressing quietly, so as not to disturb Lauren and Amber, he crept out of the house for an early morning cycle. Having stopped at a café for breakfast, he was finding it difficult to eat. For some reason, he’d lost his appetite. He sipped at a mug of tea and managed some toast but had to leave the bacon and eggs. He wasn’t sure what to say later to his wife, but he was positive she’d be mad at him. Picking up the newspaper, he flicked idly through, unable to concentrate on anything except Katy and the constant feeling of arousal that refused to be satisfied. It was 8 o’clock when he reached for his phone. Lauren would be out with Amber this afternoon, and he could talk to Katy then. Her reply came back.

  Can’t stop thinking about you either. We need to talk. Don’t phone today. Family here. xxx

  Before leaving the café, he sent another message and waited, but there was nothing. He was halfway home when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he stopped to read the incoming text.

  Oka
y. Chat tomorrow at 3 pm. xxx

  * * *

  Katy was restless. Perhaps a walk on the common would help? A bit of fresh air and exercise would do her wonders, and she could phone Shanti without being overheard. Richard’s head was buried in a novel, so she slipped out alone, calling her friend as soon as she could.

  “You left a message?”

  “Just wanted to ask how your day went with Mr. Verde!”

  “Wing Commander Verde, actually!”

  “Ooh, listen to you! Presume it went well? You weren’t home when I rang, and it was late!”

  “Oh, my goodness, Shanti, you won’t believe what’s happened.”

  Shanti listened carefully as Katy recounted the events of the previous day.

  “I think he’s your twin flame.”

  “My what?”

  “Look at your SRT notes. It’s a reward for all the amazing work you do.”

  “What work?”

  “All the clients you’re helping, the spiritual stuff you’re doing.”

  It didn’t make sense to Katy. What about Richard and the kids? “Tara would say I’m being unfaithful, and I am.”

  “That’s just guilt talking. Is that how you really feel?”

  “I’m not sure anymore. I’m so confused! The weird thing is, I had this strange feeling last night that I was being unfaithful to Tony by sleeping in the same bed as Richard!”

  “That’s interesting. You need to keep watching the signs.”

  “But look where the bloody signs have led me!”

  “I think they’re leading you to the truth. It isn’t easy to face, but the truth will set you free.”

  “I can’t eat anything.”

  Shanti’s joyous laugh tinkled for a moment. “It must be love!” She sang the words in her sweet voice, just like Labi Siffre.

  “Or it could be a heady mix of infatuation, lust, excitement and fear!”

  “Why fear?”

  “I dunno. Anxious about what will happen. Afraid I’m making a terrible mistake. Fear of losing control.”

  “All the magic happens outside your comfort zone. It’s good to feel scared. As they say, ‘feel the fear, and do it anyway’! You’re on a hero’s journey!”

  “A what?”

  “Hero’s journey. Joseph Campbell.”

  “Oh, right! I don’t know what to do!”

  “Follow your bliss.”

  “I dunno what that is.”

  “Follow your heart.”

  “But if I look at it logically, I need to be cautious. I don’t want to ruin everything on a whim. I’ve got eighteen years of shared history with Rich and two wonderful children. Maybe that’s where my heart is leading?”

  “Yeah, and the big house and the luxury holidays, but are you happy?”

  “Yes. No. I think so.”

  “Why don’t you put it out to the universe for an answer?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “And contact Dinah. Get her to look at the soul contracts.”

  “For Tony and me?”

  “Yes. It’ll give you an idea of the soul relationship. Might give you a bit of a steer.”

  “What about Monday? I’m supposed to see him again.”

  “Go with the flow. You’ll know what to do.”

  * * *

  Lauren Verde was on a mission to find out where the hell her errant husband had been this time. His story wasn’t making sense, and she assumed he’d gone on a bender and got blind drunk. She’d given him a list of DIY jobs that needed finishing around the house, starting with the dripping tap in the bathroom. Sending him off to the hardware store with Amber on Saturday afternoon, she took the opportunity to log into his emails. Nothing there, but he could be using his MoD account, and that was impossible to hack. What about his credit card? Being a banker, it was she that had set up all the accounts and passwords, and being the higher earner, she was the one with the platinum card. It would be easy to track his spending, and that would give her a clue as to where he’d been. Of course, it would take a day or so for the transactions to show, but two could play at his little game.

  Amber had a session with the child psychologist at 3.30 pm, and she was due to go horse-riding herself at 4 pm. It would be better for Tony to take the child. It might keep him out of trouble, and she could indulge in a bit of retail therapy afterwards. Besides, her dear, darling, daughter was such a daddy’s girl, she was bound to behave better with him.

  * * *

  On Saturday evening, the Stone family went out for supper. Katy couldn’t eat properly, despite it being one of her favorite Indian restaurants. She’d hardly touched her sandwich at lunchtime, either. Tony was taking center stage in her thoughts. How long had they been emailing? About six months? They’d met up three times and had spent three weeks together in 1977. One and nine were ten, make that one (one and zero), she thought, adding up the numerology, add seven was eight, and seven was fifteen. One and five. A ‘six’ year. Romance, love, and harmony. Huh!

  Tilly and Freddie were sniggering at a private joke which they chose not to share. Her efforts to join in were met with derision. Richard talked to her about his pension and another bonus that was due. He was going to use it to invest in some company or another. Apparently, it would double its value and give them a tidy sum. He was going to buy a small yacht, even though they lived some distance from the river.

  “Not a riverboat,” he said. “A proper little yacht for the sea!”

  “But we live in London, Rich!”

  “So what? I used to love sailing! You’re always picking fault with my plans!”

  The rest of supper was eaten in silence, apart from Tilly’s raucous laughter when Freddie whispered something to her. He was obviously back on form and feeling better. Richard tutted. A bit of small talk followed between Katy and her husband, just to punctuate the long, uncomfortable gaps.

  Sitting on her meditation stool at the end of the evening, it took Katy over an hour to quieten her mind. Perhaps she should pray like she had yesterday morning. Funny how people only prayed when they were in dire straits. Most people didn’t give prayer a second thought unless they were facing some calamity. Shanti had said put it out to the universe. Was that the same thing? “Hello?” she said, listening for an answer. There was a rumble of distant traffic, a bus idling at the lights, a dog barking. Far away, a train rattled over its tracks, and a 747 was following the river towards Heathrow. Where was the Voice when she needed it? Breath. Hara. Some people called the Hara ‘Dantien’. Shanti called it the ‘Manipura’ chakra.

  “Please, are you there?” Still nothing except the thoughts that kept tumbling through her mind. How did she know if she’d addressed the right god? Shanti said there were loads in India. Ganesh, Lakshmi, Vishnu. Maybe she should pray to ‘The Highest God’, that ought to do it. She didn’t want to be asking the wrong deity. “Most High Divine Source of all that is.” It sounded ridiculous, and she pulled a face. “Please forgive me, for I have sinned. I nearly had sex with a married man in a dark doorway. I’m sorry. Please give me a sign. Show me the way. Tell me what my truth is. I’m lost. Be my shepherd. Guide me to my bliss and tell me what my heart wants because I’ve got no idea. Thanks.” Having waited, ears straining, for at least thirty seconds, which seemed interminable, she remembered. “Oh, and, Amen!” Another five minutes passed.

  It was gone midnight by the time she got to bed, and Richard was gently snoring. A herbal sleep tablet, a melatonin which she’d bought by mail-order from the Channel Islands, washed down with a single malt, should knock her out. She had to get some shut eye. Pushing her earplugs snuggly in, and donning an eye mask, Katy slipped into bed.

  Twisted plots and strange scenarios crept into her dreams. At one point, she was walking up the aisle of a church, except it wasn’t a church, it was a supermarket with rows of tills and queues of people. Terry was her bridesmaid, and the vicar was her client, Seamus. Her old book-circle friends were throwing rotten tomatoes at her bridal gown.
Richard was an undertaker sitting in a hearse outside, waiting for the wedding to be over.

  Too tired to get up and record it in her diary, she carried on sleeping until 9 am. Thank goodness it was Sunday!

  Later that morning, in the quiet of her office, she switched on the laptop. Emailing Dinah wasn’t a bad idea. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a message from Tony.

  I meant it. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you, Katherine! I love and adore you. Can’t wait to talk to you at 3 pm. There’s so much I want to say, so many things I want to share. Where shall we meet tomorrow? Shall I come to Harley Street? What time?

  Love you for all eternity. T xxxxxx

  Six kisses. Her stomach knotted. What was she doing? It was all happening way too fast. Would they find enough to talk about? What would it be like in the cold light of day? If what he’d said were true, it was everything she wanted, but far too late. Why hadn’t he contacted her earlier? Before she’d met Richard?

  Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she did her best to put him to one side and stay on task. Shanti was right, it would be good to get a steer. She needed to be convinced before making any decisions. It would be stupid to act on impulse.

  Hi Dinah

  Just writing to ask a favor. Could you take a quick look at the soul contract, if any, between me and Anthony Richard Verde? Dob:16 November 1959. Give me the gist. Don’t need details.

  Thanks

  Love Katy xx

  At around 2.30 pm, Katy pulled on her jacket. “I’m going for a walk on the Common,” she called through to the snug. “Okay, Mum.” Freddie was playing X-box, and the color was back in his cheeks. Richard looked up from the Sunday Times. “I’ll come with you!”

  What? No, he couldn’t. “Er, okay, but...” She couldn’t think of anything.

  “But what?”

  “Oh, nothing. Was going to think through some client work.”

  “Come on, Kit, it’s Sunday for fuck’s sake!”

  “Okay, just nipping to the loo before we go.”

  “With your handbag?”

  “I think my period might have started.”