Page 35 of The Affair
He took it and thanked her as he vigorously rubbed his face and hair. When his skin was pink from the friction, his hair wild and still damp but at least not dripping, he handed back the towel. Connie did not speak. She didn’t dare.
He began to put his sopping jacket back on, not looking at her as he spoke. ‘I drove from Glasgow because I love that road. But the bloody hire car got a flat the other side of the bridge. So, I walked, thinking the hotel was closer than it was.’ His turquoise eyes settled on her now, taking in her T-shirt, her tousled hair, her bare legs. ‘I’m sorry, did I wake you?’
She thought of the car, another long, wet walk away. But she knew, even if the car had been parked right outside the hotel’s front door, even if he had a cosy room lined up along the corridor, it wouldn’t have made any difference to her decision. All of her intentions deserted her the instant she allowed herself to meet his gaze. Like a magnet to metal, she found her body pressed tight against his, felt his lips meet hers, his hands caressing her skin through the thin cotton of her T-shirt.
Maybe because Jared sensed, from Connie’s reluctance to let him in, that he was on borrowed time – and because she definitely knew they were – their lovemaking felt even more charged. Slow and exquisitely lingering, his fingers found places on Connie’s body she didn’t even know she had, enticing her to the peak of arousal – time and time again – until she was a tangled mass of feeling, no longer solid flesh.
It took her a long time to come down afterwards. The room felt hot and confining, her skin too sensitive to touch. She wanted air, but the hotel window wouldn’t open more than an inch. She flopped back onto the bed in the semi-darkness, the only light falling in a weak glow from the bathroom. Jared was lying on his side watching her. He reached out his hand, placing it against her bare thigh.
‘Mmm,’ he said, smiling.
Connie closed her eyes. In that moment, she didn’t care about anything. She couldn’t think of herself as a bad person, or an unfaithful wife, a coward and a liar. She was just sensation.
‘It’s late,’ she heard him say, ‘or early … There’s light outside,’ he added.
She didn’t want him to leave but, turning her head, she saw the glow of the digital clock saying 05:17. She groaned. ‘Thank goodness they’re going home today. I just have to hold it together until I’ve seen them off.’
His fingers were stroking her thigh in soft, circular movements. ‘Then what?’
‘I’m on the sleeper. Leaves at seven tonight.’
‘Well …’ Jared said, rolling over until he was lying on top of her, a strand of hair flopping on her cheek as he bent to kiss her ‘… that sounds suspiciously like an opportunity to me.’
The last of Connie’s passengers were on their way by lunchtime and her case was with Reception. She felt dehydrated and lightheaded, almost wobbly on her feet after the previous night with virtually no sleep. She longed to lie flat somewhere and close her eyes. But the room was no longer hers, and Jared – who had kept himself out of the way during breakfast – was now sitting in an armchair beside the large picture window in the foyer, quietly waiting for her.
He stood as she approached, a mischievous smile on his face. But Connie’s mind was in turmoil.I have to tell him.Her hand was clutched around her mobile, on which a lovely text from Devan had just arrived:Can’t wait to see you, Con. Have a good journey home. Love you xxxit said, making her tired body twitch with self-reproach.
She sank down into the armchair opposite, pushing thoughts of her husband from her mind.
‘Walk?’ Jared asked. ‘It’s such a beautiful day.’
‘Not sure I can put one foot in front of the other,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘OK, well, there’s a nice bench about a hundred yards to the right, overlooking the river. Could you make it that far?’
‘I might.’ She found herself smiling back, almostenjoying her feebleness. As usual, her time with Jared felt separate, unreal. It was just the two of them. The outside world – including Devan – did not exist. But she knew what she had to do, and the bench, away from the inquisitive eyes and ears of the hotel staff, would be a better place.
Getting up, Jared said, ‘Coffee on its way.’
He strode off, coming back with lattes in takeaway cups and warm sausage rolls, the grease already staining their brown-paper bag in patches. She had no idea how long he’d been gone: she’d just sat on in the cosy, squishy, forgiving armchair in a dream-like stupor.
Bright sunshine flashed off the river, making Connie wince and squint. But the warmth of the sun on her back and a few sips of coffee were reviving her. The river looked more benign today, clean and clear and grey-green as it flowed swiftly past to the Moray Firth, the red sandstone of the stately nineteenth-century castle on the hill glowing pale gold in the afternoon sun. It was very peaceful as they sat on the wooden bench and ate their sausage rolls in silence.
‘We’re like Mr and Mrs Dracula,’ Jared said, dusting off the flakes of pastry from his jacket and briskly rubbing his hands together to dislodge any remaining crumbs. ‘We normally come out at night. This sunshine could finish us off.’
Connie smiled, but she knew this was the moment. Turning to him and taking a deep breath, she said, ‘I can’t see you any more, Jared.’ The words plopped flatbetween them like stones in a pond, dull – and ultimately unconvincing.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You say that every time.’
‘I know, but I mean it this time.’
‘Why?’
‘What do you mean, “why”?’ She was almost snappish. Her head hurt and she didn’t want to be questioned. The frailty of her purpose would not stand scrutiny.
‘I mean, what’s different?’ He didn’t appear ruffled, but she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. ‘Nights like that don’t come around very often in a person’s life,’ he added, with a slight smile. ‘Not in mine, anyway.’
Connie gave an exasperated sigh. She hadn’t shared with him the problems she’d been having at home: that wouldn’t have been fair. But he must have guessed. Why else would she have been so vulnerable to his attentions? ‘It doesn’t matter why. I just absolutely can’t.’ She took a breath. ‘Not ever again.’
