hours.â
Douglas didnât want to tell her how long it had taken him from Glasgow; the effort he had made, the excuses heâd given.
âWell, here I am.â
âDid you think about not coming?â
âNot really. Did you?â
âI have to be here for my work. And thereâs an exhibition I need to visit. I thought I could combine it with seeing you. Youâre supposed to be the highlight of my trip.â
âThen Iâll try and live up to your expectations.â
âOh I didnât have any. I just thought weâd have lunch and see what happened.â
âIâm not sure I believe you.â
âWhy, donât tell me you were hoping for something more?â
Douglas offered Julia the bread. He knew he had to be careful what he said before the corridor of uncertainty closed. It was ridiculous to think of a phrase from cricket at a time like this:
the corridor of uncertainty.
He was still not sure if Julia thought there was as much at stake as he did.
âWhen I got your message,â Douglas began, âI remembered the last time we saw each other. Then I couldnât stop thinking about it.â
âIâm glad I made such an impression.â
âYou did, believe me.â
Douglas worried that he was saying too much too soon. The kiss had been in the American Bar, just before Julia had left for the airport.
âToo bad you didnât make your move earlier,â she had said at the time.
The beetroot salad arrived.
âOh,â she said. âI canât eat that. Theyâve put eggs in it. Why didnât they say?â
âOrder something else.â
âNo, Iâll just have some of your pâté.â She reached over.
âLet me help you,â Douglas said.
âItâs good to see you,â Julia said.
âItâs good to see you too. Iâd almost forgotten how much I liked you.â
âYou just said you keep thinking about me.â
âThinking isnât the same as feeling. Youâre much better in the flesh.â
âSteadyâ¦â
He should give it up right now, he thought. He should leave the restaurant while it was still safe, before anything happened.
âSorry. Iâm only saying what I feel.â
âYouâre very kind. Iâm flattered.â
âIâm telling the truth.â
Douglas wondered how many other people were having assignations at this very moment; or if they were waiting for the two-hourwindow after work and before their return home. In Paris he assumed it was commonplace, the
cinq a sept.
He tried to think what such a life might be like. Did people book regular hotel rooms or borrow apartments from their friends? What were the logistics of doing this regularly and how much money did you need?
Juliaâs steak arrived. It was too tough.
âPerhaps itâs horse,â she said.
A waiter brought her a serrated knife and apologised but it made little difference.
âThis place seems to be resting on its laurels.â
âI donât know,â said Douglas. âPeople seem to come here all the time.â
âBut the world has moved on since it became famous.â
âI suppose they donât come here for the food any more,â Douglas said.
âWhy do you think people come here then?â Julia asked.
âIt must be the romance of it all.â
The couple at the next table rose and squeezed past them. A waiter brought over a âjust in caseâ summer raincoat for the elderly lady. The man shook his hand and gave him a tip in cash.
âA demain.â
Douglas tried to picture the routine. Did the man have a different guest every day of the week or did he just meet his wife? Would they just order the
plat du jour
or study the menu every time they came? How long would it take before they were bored? What kind of marriage did they have? And surely the restaurant would have given them a corner
Douglas didnât want to tell her how long it had taken him from Glasgow; the effort he had made, the excuses heâd given.
âWell, here I am.â
âDid you think about not coming?â
âNot really. Did you?â
âI have to be here for my work. And thereâs an exhibition I need to visit. I thought I could combine it with seeing you. Youâre supposed to be the highlight of my trip.â
âThen Iâll try and live up to your expectations.â
âOh I didnât have any. I just thought weâd have lunch and see what happened.â
âIâm not sure I believe you.â
âWhy, donât tell me you were hoping for something more?â
Douglas offered Julia the bread. He knew he had to be careful what he said before the corridor of uncertainty closed. It was ridiculous to think of a phrase from cricket at a time like this:
the corridor of uncertainty.
He was still not sure if Julia thought there was as much at stake as he did.
âWhen I got your message,â Douglas began, âI remembered the last time we saw each other. Then I couldnât stop thinking about it.â
âIâm glad I made such an impression.â
âYou did, believe me.â
Douglas worried that he was saying too much too soon. The kiss had been in the American Bar, just before Julia had left for the airport.
âToo bad you didnât make your move earlier,â she had said at the time.
The beetroot salad arrived.
âOh,â she said. âI canât eat that. Theyâve put eggs in it. Why didnât they say?â
âOrder something else.â
âNo, Iâll just have some of your pâté.â She reached over.
âLet me help you,â Douglas said.
âItâs good to see you,â Julia said.
âItâs good to see you too. Iâd almost forgotten how much I liked you.â
âYou just said you keep thinking about me.â
âThinking isnât the same as feeling. Youâre much better in the flesh.â
âSteadyâ¦â
He should give it up right now, he thought. He should leave the restaurant while it was still safe, before anything happened.
âSorry. Iâm only saying what I feel.â
âYouâre very kind. Iâm flattered.â
âIâm telling the truth.â
Douglas wondered how many other people were having assignations at this very moment; or if they were waiting for the two-hourwindow after work and before their return home. In Paris he assumed it was commonplace, the
cinq a sept.
He tried to think what such a life might be like. Did people book regular hotel rooms or borrow apartments from their friends? What were the logistics of doing this regularly and how much money did you need?
Juliaâs steak arrived. It was too tough.
âPerhaps itâs horse,â she said.
A waiter brought her a serrated knife and apologised but it made little difference.
âThis place seems to be resting on its laurels.â
âI donât know,â said Douglas. âPeople seem to come here all the time.â
âBut the world has moved on since it became famous.â
âI suppose they donât come here for the food any more,â Douglas said.
âWhy do you think people come here then?â Julia asked.
âIt must be the romance of it all.â
The couple at the next table rose and squeezed past them. A waiter brought over a âjust in caseâ summer raincoat for the elderly lady. The man shook his hand and gave him a tip in cash.
âA demain.â
Douglas tried to picture the routine. Did the man have a different guest every day of the week or did he just meet his wife? Would they just order the
plat du jour
or study the menu every time they came? How long would it take before they were bored? What kind of marriage did they have? And surely the restaurant would have given them a corner
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