The other dynamos would be shocked and horrified on some level to know what she had done; Donna the most, that fallen Catholic girl. No doubt Tanya, the blasphemous bint would find it funny and demand to know the details sooner or later. But she didn't think she could bring herself to tell them. She had a long flight to think it over and she was exhausted. It was her third time in India and she had loved it as always. But this time something was nagging at her. Guilt was hounding her; lurking in the far corners of the market, swirling around the fan in her room and keeping in step with her by the river Ganges. Going to Greece for Sophie's wedding was the perfect excuse to block it all out. She hoped it would do the trick.
Leaning back and closing her eyes, she unwittingly plunged herself back into the mess she had left behind. They had bumped into each other in a coffee shop, the cold autumn air rendering his woollen scarf necessary, hiding the hint that should have stopped her. Some polite stumbling around each other and an awkward laugh. He had twinkling brown eyes and the longest eyelashes she'd ever seen on a man. She was intrigued. She'd seen him a month later in the church hall as she walked in, ready to organise the kids into their extracurricular cooking class. She'd seen him first, still in jeans. She hadn't realised this was the man she'd been corresponding with to set the class up. He turned around with a smile, instantly recognising her. He stayed through all the classes every week, twice a week, encouraging the kids and helping her clear up afterwards. Fuelled on sugary coffee and spare cake, they stayed out longer and longer. He said he felt like he could tell her anything. She laughed and told him his secrets were safe with her. He took her at her word.
They had never had an official date. But every time they saw each other, she felt that it was one, lost in those secret hours spent together in the church hall. How many dates would you go on before you kissed a man? It needed to have happened by the second or it was a dud. But weeks passed on and while the kids had learned to make pizza, cake and pasta bake, their eyes had been talking across the room to each other the entire time. She was sure he had brushed against her more than once. Was it mad of her to think so? The only touch they had and it made her long for a bit more, however terrible the thought was. The shock she had when she realised that he was taken had been a bucket of icy water over her for a while but after a long while she found herself steadily inching back towards him.
Christmas had come and gone and she spent some of the time thinking about him. The cooking classes were over and she had no reason to see him anymore. Rosie found herself walking past it all too soon and decided to drop in. Hesitating over the threshold, she knew that this could prove to be a bad decision. She was getting reckless. But every so often she just did things like that. She couldn't explain why the whim just came over her. Peeking in, she was rewarded with the sight of him dismantling the Christmas tree which, with his gentle persistence, turned into a two-person job. Sitting on the floor, perilously close to each other, the pint of brushing fingers occasionally. She studied his long lashes and tried to untangle some tinsel at the same time.
She couldn't even remember who made the first move. There was a kiss. A shimmering moment of clarity. Which led to too many nights wound around each other in a humid exhilarating embrace. He said he'd never felt this way about anyone like this before. It stood to reason. She was a fool to think he could ever abandon his true love and duty for her. Somehow, drunk on recklessness, she did. But underneath the uniform, he was a man, just like every other man she'd slept with.
A whole three months passed and they were no closer to resolving the situation. The fights got angrier, the sex got steamier. It flowed faster as the weeks went by as he found himself unable to say no anymore and it had wound them both up to the point of self-destruction. She'd rage at him, threw a plate at him once, nearly missing his head. He'd cursed at her once and pushed her up against the wall, letting go of her and profusely apologising a few seconds later. It couldn't last. This wasn't a relationship she wanted. Too fraught with tension, it was doomed from the start.
Torn between his duty and his desire, he was weighed down with the decision ahead of him and had come no closer to figuring it out. She'd eventually made it easier for him, left him a note and left his life. Neither of them could handle it anymore. Forcing herself to think of work, she jumped onto the plane and roared off abroad, needing to put an entire ocean and more between them. She knew she'd never see him again.
Recalling all of this, she brushed aside a rogue tear and concentrated on the journey ahead. Put on her customary happy face. Onwards to Greece, to a wedding, a hope for the future for someone else.
She had no excuse as to why she'd seduced a man of the cloth.