Free Belshazzar's Daughter by Barbara Nadel

He was a trespasser, poaching upon her time, the space in which she did ‘other things’.
    The unknown country of her life without him.
    ‘Hello.’
    ‘Hello,’ she replied, her heavily accented English stiff, devoid of emotion. ‘What you do here, Robert?’
    ‘I came to see you.’
    Her face didn’t change. Beautiful, severe, a little nervous even, he thought. She put the ring display on to a shelf behind the counter.
    ‘I wondered if you wanted to come for a quick drink.
    . The ring display fastened to the shelf with a sharp click.
    She turned back and looked at him again, her neck held high, elongated and arrogant.
    ‘Is Tuesday.’
    As usual when faced with her displeasure, he fumbled his words clumsily. It irritated her, he knew. She hated him in apologetic, doormat mode, and yet what did she expect? Her eyes were ice, they offered no help or support to their lowly struggling victim.
    ‘Well, I was just, er, you know, passing, and … er, it’s very hot and I thought, um … Well, it’s, er …’
    ‘You come to spy on me.’ It was direct rather than
    cruel. A statement made between friends rather than lovers.
    Consequently it wounded him heavily.
    ‘Er … No! No!’
    She walked over to the shop window and started switching off the display lights. The warm glow of precious metal dimmed as the life-giving illumination was withdrawn. She didn’t take her eyes from his face for a second.
    “I have other things I must do.’
    Robert remained silent, nervously holding his peace, his mind concentrating fully upon blocking out what the ‘other things’ to which she was referring might be.
    ‘I am busy. I will see you Thursday.’
    She turned and slid one graceful hand into a drawer beneath the counter. There was the sound of keys jangling impatiently in her hands. Keys to the front door of the shop, his cue to leave. His dismissal until his appointed time returned once again. Bitterness rose in his throat, the taste of jealousy and suspicion. Emotions he knew could only be expressed at his peril.
    “I saw you in Balat yesterday.’ His voice had an edge. The running, frightened figure thrust itself through the alleyways of his mind once more. Her face was blank, haughty and without movement. Suddenly, he felt foolish.
    The jangling stopped. She fisted her hand firmly around the keys and looked down at the Rolex upon her slim, tanned wrist. Robert hadn’t seen that watch before. It wasn’t one of his gifts. But then neither was the solitaire diamond that hung around her neck. He didn’t know where that came from either. Other things! The expression on her face had still not moved a millimetre.
    “i am here yesterday, all day.’
    ‘Mmm.’
    It was a weak and bad-tempered little reply on his part.
    It reflected how he felt. Diminished.
    ‘You don’t believe?’
    “I don’t know. I thought I saw you—’
    ‘You thought!’ Her lips pulled back over her teeth in an ugly sneer. She might just as well have slapped him.
    Believe or not; it wasn’t really the issue any more, not for Robert. He had upset her. He looked into her face. It quivered just a fraction, but the sneer remained static. He knew that look; he’d seen it before. It usually came just before she told him to get out of her life. She did that occasionally. Numerous and very elaborate presents had to follow in order to avert disaster now. Robert, not for the first time, wondered whether his bank account could bear it.
    ‘You think you see me in Balat yesterday?’
    “I thought …’ His voice died in his throat. ‘He thought’, what the hell did that mean? What the fuck was the value of his thoughts anyway? His spirit seemed to die in his breast, turn its back, surrender.
    But unbelievably she turned her most beautiful smile full beam upon his face. The sudden change of expression robbed him of his breath.
    ‘OK,’ she said brightly. ‘One quick drink. You tell me about it.’
    He coughed. ‘Right.’ His voice sounded husky,