The man and woman at the corner table in the hotel dining room were clearly arguing. The man's swarthy face showed some exasperation as he waved a finger in the air. The woman, with black, shoulder length hair, and slender from Dan's rear view, pointed an occasional finger as she responded. Low tones ensured they attracted no attention from nearer tables.
Dan Tiernan turned away, not interested in the troubles of others. He was still trying to decide whether this break in Riva, Lake Garda, had been such a good idea. His elder sister, Anna, had bought the flight, and booked a single room in the hotel.
"You need a break. It's been two years now, Dan," she'd said. "You can't go on grieving forever. Carol wouldn't have wished that on you." Three years his senior, his sister had attempted an encouraging smile, as she added, "You might get an idea for your next novel."
The very idea of Carol's wishes had stung him. He missed her so much, and found it impossible to talk about her or the accident, even to those closest to him. Married for six exciting years, and talking about starting a family, had suddenly been torn away.
Dan was in no doubt his libido was still operating, having woken up with a rigid erection more than once. Each of those occasions had left him feeling sad, very lonely, and needing a hand-job, or a cold shower. Generally, it was a cold shower that won.
Just yesterday, at the airport, Anna had whispered, “You never know you might meet some gorgeous Italian lady." Dan could not imagine that happening. But he was here, it was eight fifteen and the mountains,glowed in the morning sunshine.
After breakfast, he strolled down to the ferry terminal in the centre of town, his camera at the ready. The small ferry afforded a pleasant ride over the lake. At the first stop, Limone, Dan went ashore and took shots around the busy village.
Over-heated by the sun he scuttled into a bright pizza bar after taking a couple of shots from outside. Comfortable with a cold beer, his eyes were caught by a couple at a table across the patio.
It was the swarthy face that he noticed. Was it the guy he'd seen in the dining room that morning? No, it couldn't be. The lady whose shoulder he was stroking, had mousey hair that he was occasionally nuzzling. His lady in the hotel had hair the colour of a raven.
As Dan watched, the pair stood, and the man in a red and white sports shirt, put his arm around her as they walked away. Briefly, he wondered whether they might appear on the shots he had taken.
Back at the hotel, he treated himself to a cool shower. The intense heat on his first day he found had enervated him, and naked, he lay back on the bed.
In his sleep, Carol appeared with that teasing smile, and stood naked over him, as she stooped her head towards his groin. Dan reached for her pert breasts, but somehow, they were out of reach. They were so close, and as he made another vain attempt, her delicate breasts were gone, her face was gone. Carol was gone. He was alone, in his hotel bed. Dream over, yet, his erection remained, but quickly collapsed. A tear ran down his cheek. Was this teasing all that remained for him?
Dressed in pale blue pants and a dark blue shirt he went down to the dining hall. He glanced towards the corner table. The couple were there as before, and great heavens, they were arguing again. Black hair tossed as the lady with her back to him responded to something her partner had said. Dan had a pretty good idea what the argument was about. Swarthy face was still wearing the red and white sports shirt he had been wearing in Limone.
It was no business of his. Meal just completed, the scraping of a chair drew his attention back to the corner table. Swarthy face was on his feet, looking angry, and, with a contemptuous gesture in the face of the woman, he strode out of the dining hall. One or two heads had turned this time, and some comments were exchanged at tables close to the corner. The dark-haired woman remained seated, straight backed in her pale blue summer dress.
Knowing what he’d seen in Limone, Dan felt a little sorry for her, but then, he knew nothing about the full circumstances. Dan saw her shake her head at the waiter who was gathering dessert orders. Then, she very quickly gathered up her bag and stood to leave.
Dan's first frontal view of her, and his breath immediately caught up in his throat. A delicate featured face, with dark eyes and warm M shaped mouth, which must hide a lovely smile. Her blue dress might have been painted on her as it clung to gently rising breasts, and the curves at waist and hip. Looking straight ahead, she walked determinedly out of the room.
Dan sat there utterly stunned. He had started breathing again, but not easily. No woman had struck him so forcefully since--since—Yes, since then, and, guiltily, thought he was being disloyal to Carol. But Dan couldn’t avoid the urge to know the lady better.
Standing, his mind was in a quandary. If she was married, there was little he could do, but admire from afar. The reactions she had aroused in him just could not be ignored.
In the main hallway, a rotund middle aged man, made a comment as he came alongside, “Interesting domestic scene back there, eh? Not often you see that on holiday."
Dan was in no mood to discuss it. “I don't even know if they're married," he said, as though he couldn't care less.
The man’s reply was not what Dan wanted to hear. "Oh, they're married, all right. Talked to the guy on the coach from the airport. Name's Bodecker, been married three years."
"Oh?" Was all Dan could manage, hiding his disappointment. And anxious to get away, he wandered out onto the terrace, trying to ignore, the exploding of his hopes. She was married.
On the terrace, several tables were occupied but, there she was, all alone, a cup of coffee in front of her. Dan was transfixed for a moment, unable to take his eyes off her. She was even more beautiful than his initial impression. High cheek bones, pert nose, little make up. He moved out into the gardens, richly green and cooling in the evening light.
Dark eyes, such lovely dark eyes. Why did that delight him? For one thing it meant that it could not be a resemblance to Carol that had attracted him. Apart from different hair colour, Carol's eyes had been blue, and her face had been much rounder. So, the effect this lady had upon him was genuine, yet sadly, she was out of reach.
But certainly not out of mind. For the rest of the evening, Dan sat in a lakeside bar sipping at a beer, watching the world go by, and thinking about her, and her effect on him.
Dan awoke the following morning feeling strangely sad. However, an early breakfast was due prior to a coach trip into the Dolomites. Maybe she was booked on the same trip. But she wasn't.
She remained on his mind, as the coach wound its way up, and between impressive rock faces. Why had this woman, lodged so firmly inside his head? For all he knew she could be a total bitch.
That thought just wouldn’t gel, and getting back to the hotel he resolved to clarify the situation for himself. After a late dinner, he had a word with the receptionist. "Can you tell me, is Mr Bodecker still in the hotel?" The receptionist's response was almost immediate, without reference to any computer screen. "No, Mr Bodecker checked out yesterday. He left no forwarding address." A slight pause before he added, "Of course, Mrs Bodecker is still here. Is there-?"
Dan shook his head, uncertain of how helpful that had been, and went into the lounge, nursed a beer, and opened his book. Outside, a rising wind was bending the low shrubs and palms. Book open, he just couldn't read. Was it fair to assume that Mr and Mrs Bodecker were breaking up? Certainly, he had seen evidence of Bodecker's two timing.
"Mr Tiernan, is it?"
The gentle female voice surprised him. Glancing up, he was immediately on his feet. She was there, next to him, dark eyes fixed on him, mouth tighter than he had seen it. But near enough for him to catch the aroma of lavender from her.
Almost adolescent-like, he stammered, "Y-yes, I'm Dan Tiernan."
He was a head taller than her, and looking down at her was a treat. She was delectable. Oh, for this moment to last. It due It didn't take long for him to learn it wasn’t going to last long.
The eyes were more like flints, as she said, "The receptionist tells me that you have been enquiring about my husband."
Dan was uncertain how to respond to this. All he could admit was, "Yes, I did ask about him.”
“Why?” The question was blunt.
What could he say? He hadn’t expected his query to reach her ears. s. While he fumbled for an answer, she had another question, "Did you know my husband?"
Dan shook his head, "No, I only--"
"You're a writer, I understand?"
God, even slightly aggressive, she looked delicious. "That is correct."
A pink tongue licked at her lips before they tightened, and she said, "Yes, I thought so. Well, may I ask you to mind your own goddam business?"
With a final glare at him, she turned and walked away.
"But--" Was all that Dan could manage. She went out of sight and Dan saw how he was set to for a frustrating two weeks. A lost love to grieve over, and now, the nearness of this lady to disturb him every day.
By the next morning, he had relaxed a little and decided to make the most of his time in Riva. Then, of course, at breakfast, she was there at the corner table, alone. Only this time, she sat facing out into the dining room, and briefly their eyes met. Dark eyes, such deep, dark eyes, and Dan, his breathing disturbed again at the sight of her, cursed himself that he could not stop caring.
Eyes down, he ate an uncomfortable breakfast, and when he finally looked in her direction again, she wasn't there. Surely, he was going crazy. Avoiding looking at her while she was there, yet, disappointed when she wasn't. Time for some fresh air, and again, try to clear his mind.
Walking along the lakeshore, he became very aware of the heat. Dan had never been a sun worshipper. So, after a steady walk around the marina, he was soon settled by the hotel pool, in shorts, with his book, his notebook, a towel, and sunglasses, and pleased to be shaded by the high palms.
A scraping sound drew his attention to the shallow end of the pool, a trim female figure in a black bikini was pulling a lounger into position. As she stood, and half turned, Dan felt that, now almost familiar, lump in his throat. She was there, come to haunt him. That bikini confirmed all that Dan had thought lay under her summer dresses. Full, yet modest bosom, incredibly shapely hips and waist, a smooth flat belly.
Wearing sunglasses, there would be no indication where or whether he was looking. So, he just gazed at the sheer perfection of her, without raising his head, but trying to look asleep.
Once, her head turned to scan around the pool. Did it linger where he was lying? Then she began rubbing sun lotion on her body. Torture to consider, but Dan felt he would give a thousand pounds to have that task, especially when her hands moved along her thighs.
Finishing her applications, she put on her sunglasses and lay back on her towel, legs slightly parted. Dan sighed and tried to concentrate on his book. But, what, at first, had been esoteric, had been overtaken by something more lustful.. God, it had been so long.
The black bikini, still in repose, took his occasional glance, but he managed some reading. After a while, there was a lapping of water into the drainage grate, a sign that someone was bathing.
It was her, doing a quite powerful breast stroke down the pool, her hair pinned high on her head. Dan held his book in a deliberate position, from where he was able to view over the top. He found her leg movements rather erotic, proof of his state of mind.
Dan's breath became quite erratic as he watched her slender figure climb out of the pool, quickly rub the towel over her skin, and leave.
For Dan, although the sun shone bright, the afternoon was suddenly duller. After a light lunch, with force of will, he made some progress, in making notes for a new novel, before returning to his room.
As he entered the dining room that evening, she was there, and their eyes met briefly. Had that been a slight smile that played on her lips? Was she enjoying teasing him? Dan scolded himself, for acting so immaturely in the face of this woman, so stunning in a pale green dress.
As he enjoyed another exquisite meal, he was wondering about the risks of making last hopeless attempt to get to know her.
Surprisingly, it was she who made that ice-breaking move.
Just starting on his dessert of profiteroles and cream, he became aware of her standing to leave her table. Dan kept his eyes lowered as she neared, and almost choked when, in far lighter tones than last time, her voice above him said, "Excuse me, Mr Tiernan. Sorry for disturbing your meal, but could you spare me a moment in the lounge when you're done?"
Dan, a spoon poised shakily in his hand, looked up at that wondrous face, and was amazed that he was able to find his voice to reply, "I'd be happy to. I'll just be a moment."
"Thank you," she said, and her smile, for Dan, was more warming than the sun, but much more gentle. "Please, don't rush." And she moved away.
Four profiteroles disappeared in record time, but what could she want? Maybe she intended to lambast him again. Yet her tone promised something more than last time. Maybe she wanted to declare her undying love. Now that would make the day! He suppressed a gentle chuckle. So, what could it be? Only one way to find out.
Hesitating only to let his stomach, and his nerves, settle, Dan straightened his shirt, patted his hair into place, and reminded himself that he was a mature male about to converse with a highly attractive lady, already deep in his consciousness. This called for a measure of applied confidence.
In the lounge, she was seated in an easy chair, a cup of coffee on the table in front of her. Her smile, the second she had bestowed on him, was brighter than the first as she greeted him, "Mr Tiernan, good of you to join me." She gestured to the chair across the table from her.
“Please, call me Dan." That was the way, he told himself, be open, you’re in a situation that an hour ago had appeared unlikely. But what route was this conversation going to take?
“Then you must call me Emma." Emma, somehow that name suited the delicacy of her.
The waitress came over and Dan ordered a coffee Americano. She was silent for just a moment, her dark eyes very firmly on Dan. "You must let me apologise for my rather unseemly outburst yesterday."
"No problem," Dan told her. "You were probably justified."
"I was just a little on edge, last night."
Dan nodded, and watched as she put her cup down. Her lips were moist, and she looked rather tense. "Oh, I knew I'd find this difficult."
"I've got all night," Dan told her, and took the risk of a compliment. "Sitting here, sipping coffee, and looking at you is no great trial."
She blushed. She actually blushed, and Dan had been surprised at his own openness. But he warned himself not to overdo it. No point in scaring her off.
"That's very gallant of you," she said, and the redness faded from her neckline as she became more serious. Dan was keen to discover what she had to say, and he really was quite happy to just sit there looking at her wonderful face, sharing the occasional smile and just listening, to her seductive voice.
Dan was delighted, to learn that that final scene he had witnessed in the dining hall had been a true breaking point. Emma told him that she had already spoken to her solicitor, having, after three years married to her husband, Jake, refused to accept any more of his infidelities.
Emma took a sip of her coffee before telling Dan how after just six months of marriage she guessed that he was being unfaithful. There were too many late evenings, his trips abroad had gradually confirmed her suspicions. There had been weekends away, fishing, he said.
Emma gave a bitter smile as she said, “I knew damned well it was a different ‘f’ word he was engaged in.”
She told Dan that they had been here in Riga for a short break a year earlier. Another surprise was that Emma already suspected that there was another woman living in the town, and that his overseas ‘business’ trips had been to visit her. This year he had been determined to come back.
Those dark eyes looked directly at Dan as she said, “Foolishly, I hoped it might be an attempt at closure." Her breath shuddered in her throat, “Well, it has been, but in reverse. Stupid me.”
Dan could not hold back, "He's the stupid one. Leaving a wife like you for some chubby cheeked bimbo--"
Her eyes widened. Oh, those eyes, full of shock. "How do you know that?"
Dan told her what he had seen in Limone, and how they could be on pictures he’d taken of the cafe.
Her tone lower, as she told how Jake had admitted being with this other woman. He had called Emma a cold bitch, saying that she was going to be the loser. “I should have poured my wine over him, but I just told him to get out of my life, and he has.” Her eyes on Dan were slightly moistened as she added, "And you know, I’m not at all sorry."
Dan had listened sympathetically, genuinely finding it difficult to fathom how any man could walk away from a woman like her. But how could he be involved? He asked her.
Momentarily Emma bit her lip, "You're going to think me neurotic. But I told you I wasn't at all sorry, and I'm not. But I need him to know that. To let him see, clearly, that I don't need him. That I’m not the loser. Right?"
Dan noted the worried look on her face, as she looked for his response, and he said gently, "Yes, but I don't see where I can help."
She nodded, "This may sound crazy. And I'm a little nervous about how you'll take it. But, you and I are now the only unaccompanied guests in the hotel." Then she added more anxiously, "I'm assuming that you're not married."
The familiar tug came before he replied, "Not anymore."
"Divorced"
"My wife was killed two years ago in a car accident." He was surprised that he could even tell her that much.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Once more, she hesitated, before saying, "I was wanting you to be a kind of escort for me. Walk together through the town centre in the evenings especially, so that he might see us. I know the places he favours. Does this sound petty?"
It did, in a way, but Dan found the prospect of spending any time with this lady well worth his time, and he said, "Not if it pleases you."
"And you wouldn't mind doing that?"
"I wouldn't mind," he said, the understatement of the year
"We might eat out sometimes, at the places he might frequent. I pay.”
Dan shrugged, "We can see about that."
"Just a couple of provisos," she said, and her face was almost apologetic as she went on. "There are to be no strings on either of us. You can cry off whenever you feel it’s too crazy, and I certainly have no wish to get involved with anyone. At the end we part, and that's it. Agreed?"
Dan smiled at her, while, for the second time, he thought, we can see about that, but he said, "Sounds fair."
"Good," she said, returned his smile and added, "we'll start tomorrow evening. About eight, all right?"
"Fine," Dan agreed, then added, "what about socialising around the hotel."
She laughed, a lovely sound and it lit up her face. “Well, we know each other now, so I guess we can converse more easily if we meet."
When she refused his suggestion of sharing a dining room table, he could have argued that point, but he just nodded, and, hoping his voice disguised his disappointment, he said, "As you wish."
A few more minutes and she finished her coffee, stood up and said, “Now, fully relaxed at settling that, I'm just going to sit on my balcony and read my book." Dan rose as she moved away, but she turned back to say, "Thank you for being so understanding."
"My pleasure," he told her, and for the briefest of moments he wondered what was behind the way her eyes held his.
The following day, after an exchange of smiles and a nod across the dining hall at breakfast, Dan went about filling in the day. Not easy, since time threatened to pass slowly. However, a long walk, and more note taking by the pool, helped him through.
At one minute to eight, showered, shaved, dowsed in manly deodorant and dressed in best shirt and pants he was waiting in the lounge when Emma arrived. Dressed in a loose, flared light green skirt with a dark green top that was off one shoulder and showed more cleavage than even the black bikini had, as ever, she managed to stop his breath.
Laughing as she caught the direction of Dan's eyes, she said, " I want him to see what he's missing. You look very cool."
Looking at her, he was anything but cool, as they walked out of the hotel towards the town centre. They did not touch, and Dan noted that, in fact, Emma kept at least a foot of space between them. But, for him, it was pleasant just being in her company.
They talked about anything, books they’d read, about films they had seen. Dan even laughed with her about her liking Tom Cruise. "That's a bit old hat now, isn't it?" he teased.
"I've always preferred darkly handsome men," she said, looking across the square they were passing. Dan wondered how far his dark hair moved him into that category.
In the town centre, Emma said they should hold hands now, "Make it look serious."
Enclosing her cool fingers, Dan wondered whether the electric charge that moved up his arm was pure imagination at this, their very first touch. But now her concentration was away from him, as she perused, every bar, every cafe, every restaurant, and watched every approaching couple. At about ten they sat outside a bar and Dan had a beer while Emma sipped a rum spritzer.
"No sighting," Emma said quietly. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time."
Dan shook his head, "If you think you've been wasting my time, you haven't been concentrating."
She frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Being near you is never going to be a waste of time,"
Her head had turned away, gazing across the lake, when she turned back her face was serious, "Please, Dan, I appreciate what you said, but I have no wish to complicate this." A little half smile crossed her lips as she added, "Besides, men are pretty low on my wish list just now."
Dan nodded and said, "Whatever you say." But giving up was not on his agenda, simply because no woman had affected him like this since Carol. He had never been a chat up type, yet Emma had drawn two compliments from him already. Time would be his guide.
Three more evening sessions during that first week, without any sightings of Jake Bodecker and his mistress. Dan was gratified that Emma, though disappointed, did not become upset.
For Dan, there was the extra bonus in meeting up with her accidentally around and about the hotel. Longing to suggest daytime outings, Dan felt it best not to push things from his side.
Gradually, on those unsuccessful evenings, the range of their conversations, and how much they laughed together increased. Dan learned that Emma was a successful fashion designer. Even more surprising, and highly promising from Dan's point of view, was that she lived in a town less than thirty minutes drive from where he lived. For the first time, Dan started thinking of a future. But feared he might be dreaming.
Their fourth evening together turned out to be full of incident. As usual they held hands on entering the town centre. Talking as they walked, she asked about his writing. He spoke of early difficulties, and he even found he could mention how Carol's encouragement had helped with that first book, and the shared joy of his first acceptance
Earlier than normal, they sat in a bar with their usual drinks, and, because Carol's name had already been mentioned Emma asked about the accident.
With a momentary lump in his throat, Dan recounted the trauma of that evening when police came to tell him Carol had been killed in a head on crash. The elderly driver of the other car had a heart attack and his car had swerved into the path of Carol’s. In telling it now his lip trembled.
"Oh, Dan, that's so awful," Emma said, and Dan read the genuine sympathy in her eyes.
"My God," Dan's voice was barely a croak.
"What is it?"
"Emma, you're the first person I've been able to talk to about that."
"Then I’m privileged."
Time for him to be even more open, "Truth is, you are the first lady I've even kept pleasant company with since that time."
"In two years?" she gasped, leaning across the table towards him. “How did you deal with the pain?"
"I wrote my second book. It helped keep my mind clear."
“Was the main female character based on Carol?"
Dan looked at her with a warm feeling surging through his chest, "How—how could you--know?"
She smiled cautiously, "I finished it this afternoon. Oh, Dan, it was such a lovely story. The lead character--well, you could feel your love for her. And I can just imagine your comfort in giving it a happy ending."
"I'm glad you liked it."
Emma leaned back in her chair, "Well, it looks like they may have gone away. We might as well--" She stopped, staring across the square, "Oh, God, look." And Dan followed the direction of her extended hand.
Arm in arm, Jake Bodecker and the woman were moving into a bar at the corner with a narrow lane. Emma’s mouth had fixed in a firm line, as her hands trembled on her glass. “At last," she murmured.
As she appeared to be rising to her feet, Dan advised, “Best wait until they settle."
Emma’s lip was trembling, and Dan asked, "You sure about this?"
“”ore than ever," she affirmed, rising to her feet, "and I think they're nicely settled."
Standing up with her, Dan could see the couple had found a table near the corner. “If we walk directly towards that lane, we'll pass close to them," Emma said, sounding so excited.
On the square, Dan reached for her hand, but she reached and gripped his arm high, as though in deep affection. “Look into my face," Emma said anxiously.
Dan did just that, and, grinning at her, whispered, “Why do I always get these unpleasant tasks?”
She laughed out loud, at his joke, or to attract attention, Dan wasn't sure which. Maybe it was both. Then they were past the corner and into the lane.
"Do you think he noticed us?"
Dan had made one quick sideways glance, and was fairly certain eyes had followed them. He told her that, then asked, “What now? Are we finished?"
Emma had loosened her grip on his arm, and was just holding his hand, but, he was sure, her grip was tighter. In answer to his question she said, "Oh, no. Let's make the most of it. Ten minutes and then stroll back."
As they walked, she asked, "Have you any plans for your next book?"
“Oh, a couple of ideas. A change of genre, in which a wife plans to murder her husband."
"Oh, I can give you plenty of background for that," Emma laughed. Then she stopped, turned and said, “Let's head back, same pattern as before."
She gripped his arm, while other thoughts were buzzing through Dan's head. The night, so far, had been special. He almost regretted having seen Jake and his woman.