The Other Half by Sarah Rayner

which she hoped offset her dark coloring rather well.
    “Posh?” Chloë was disappointed. Ravishing was more what she’d had in mind.
    “Yeah. But you look nice.”
    “Good.” Chloë poured milk into her coffee. Rob was usually a fine judge.
    He stood back for a full assessment. “Surprisingly sophisticated.”
    “Not sexy?” asked Chloë hopefully.
    He eyed her suspiciously. “Why is it so important to appear sexy on a Thursday?”
    “Oh, no reason.” Chloë grabbed her mug and made a hasty exit.
    “I hope you’re not seeing that man again today!” he called after her. “You know I think he’s bad news.”
    *   *   *
    When James phoned, Chloë suggested they meet for a drink in Clapham Junction.
    “Good idea,” he said. “It’s easy for me to get the last train home from there.”
    It sounds as if he’s planning on being out as late as possible, so maybe I can lure him back to mine, thought Chloë, living for the moment just as she’d vowed. It’s coming together nicely.
    But when she arrived at the Slug and Lettuce, it was heaving. She bought herself a glass of red wine and tried to find a table. There wasn’t one. The music was blaring—they wouldn’t be able to hear themselves think. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a great choice of venue.
    “Hi,” said James, coming up behind her and surprising her. He grabbed her around the waist and smack! gave her a firm kiss on the cheek. He was close enough for her to get a waft of his scent. That, and the sheer confidence of the gesture, brought heady recollections flooding back. “Can I buy you a drink?”
    Chloë shook her head. “I’ve got one.”
    She watched him make his way to the bar. He was undoubtedly a little older than most of the clientele, but had the kind of effortless ease that meant he seemed at home wherever he was. It’s odd, isn’t it, she contemplated, that some people get more attractive the better one knows them, while others become more ordinary? Mm, she concluded, in a well-fed-Heathcliff-meets-curvaceous-Cathy kind of way, perhaps we complement each other. I wonder if anyone else has noticed we make rather a good couple …
    They soon agreed that it was too noisy and hot inside, so opted instead to join the crowd spilling onto the pavement, although the busy main road was far from the most romantic location.
    “Did you get home all right last week?” asked Chloë, keen to avoid any pretense that nothing had happened.
    “Yeah. A cab’s amazingly fast at five in the morning, and my wife and son were out for the night, so I was able to grab an hour’s nap before schlepping back into town.”
    My wife . Chloë flushed. She’d been avoiding contemplating the fact that he was married. Yet his choice of words also seemed a bit distant—made Chloë think of the kind of girl who referred to “my boyfriend” rather than calling him by his name, as if he was more important as an accessory than anything else. But she wasn’t in a position to comment, so she let it go.
    That Chloë allowed more than a split second’s silence while she contemplated this was unusual, which obviously worried James.
    “Chloë?” he said.
    “Um?”
    “I hope you don’t think I make a habit of this kind of thing.” A particularly loud truck thundered past, billowing exhaust and James coughed, whether from awkwardness or the fumes, Chloë wasn’t sure.
    I don’t know what to think,” said Chloë truthfully. She could swear James was trying to assess her feelings.
    His hazel eyes looked anxious. “I’ve never had an affair before.” God! He’d called it an affair. Already! “You haven’t?” Chloë was surprised, even doubtful. She found him so irresistible that she couldn’t imagine other women didn’t—she knew Patsy did. Though of course fidelity isn’t just a matter of being desired by others; it means reciprocating that desire and acting on it, she reminded herself.
    “No, not really.” James appeared keen to explain