Free A Twist in the Tale (2011) by Mel Comley Page B

from her sultry red painted lips.
    I
feel thrown off balance. I’d expected to meet a feral cat ready to scratch my
eyes out.
    “Why?
I mean, why did you want to see me?”
    “Curiosity…and
to set the record straight,” she said her brilliant blue eyes burning like a
branding iron into mine. Her gaze didn’t waiver as she sipped her wine.
    Dan
had neglected to tell me his wife was aware of our affair. How long had she
known?
    “Is
Dan aware that you’re meeting me?” I asked.
    “Why
would I bother letting him know a little fact like that?” she retorted before
adding, “Does he know that you’re meeting me ?”
    Touché!
    “No.
I’ll tell him the next time we meet.”
    She
laughs softly. “And when is that likely to be, may I ask?”
    Feeling
like I was knee deep in a metre hole I thought, the truth is I never know when
our next rendezvous will be. I’ve been at his beck and call since the day we
met, five long years ago. The minute he calls my mobile I drop everything to
grab a few special moments with him.
    My
friends got tired of me long ago.
    Her
placid nature flummoxes me and I nervously scan the room hoping for someone to
rescue me.
    “Your
reluctance to answer tells me you don’t know when your next meeting with my
husband will be. Am I right, Karen?”
    I
cough feeling nervous and urge myself to remain calm.
    She
continues, “You seem unnerved by our meeting, I assure you I mean you no harm.”
    Now
I know how a fly feels when trapped in a spider’s web.
    “You
must admit the situation is a little strange.” I sit up straighter in my seat
giving her the impression I’m more confident than I am.
    The
waiter arrives to take our order and she gives him a smile that oozes sex
appeal. Whereas I’ve trained myself not to lead men on, I’m true to only one
man. Ironically, that man happens to be the husband of the lady grilling me.
The waiter took our order and left.
    “I’ll
be honest with you I wanted to meet to find out about your affair. Not the
intimate details of course, I have a vivid imagination…”
    Shocked,
I feel the colour flooding my face, I ask, “Um…what kind of details were you
hoping to hear?”
    She
dips into her designer handbag and pulls out a list of questions, informing me
they require a yes or no answer.
    “Do
you live in a flat?”
    “Yes.”
    “Does
Dan pay for the flat?”
    “ No .”
I reply indignantly.
    She
shakes her beautifully coiffured head in disbelief or is it pity? I’m not quite
sure.
    Dan
had never offered to pay towards my bills, but he’d insisted I live close by. Easy
to get to you in a hurry when I need you, was how he’d put it.
    “Does
he visit you more than three times a week?”
    “No.” Three times a week I wish. I’m lucky if I see him twice a month nowadays.
    “Has
he ever told you he loves you?” she asks as our mushroom risotto arrives.
    “No.”
    “Does
he ever talk about me?”
    “No.
Never,” I insist, picking up my fork and playing with the meal I no longer have
an appetite for.
    “Has
he ever told you he intends leaving me for you?”
    “No.
Never.” Hmm…why not, after being together for five years?
    “Do
you know where we live?”
    “No.”
Although Dan had always told me they lived in a modest area.
    She
folds the piece of paper and returns it to her bag with a smug grin.
    “Is
it all right if I ask you a question?” I ask with caution.
    “Just
the one?” she says raising a quizzical eyebrow.
    “How
long have you known about Dan and me?”
    She
laughs. “Right from the word go. Not even Donald Trump has that many business
meetings. Did Dan ever tell you we have kids?”
    I
gasp. “No. He told me you were infertile.”
    “Well,
we have two, a boy of six and a girl of three.”
    Ashamed,
I look down at the table and mumble, “I’m sorry.”
    She
smirks. “That’s what the other girl said when I told her about you. You seem
surprised. Surely, you didn’t think you were the only one.”
    I’m
rendered