Her clothes had gone from the chair. She'd left the hotel. The feeling of being alone yet again washed over me. I quashed it down.I showered, drank coffee and thought about her. In a way she'd reminded me of the last virgin I took. Almost twenty years ago to the day and not more than 20 minutes drive from where I was staying right now.I'd met her accidentally. I'd left my motorbike at the hotel deciding to take a bus to the city instead. I'd been waiting at the bus stop when she came in to shelter from the rain. I hadn't seen the 'Black Only' sign.I'd read a little about the segregation in South Africa, but hadn't experienced much at first hand, having basically kept to my hotel room since I'd arrived three days earlier. In no uncertain terms she had told me I shouldn't be there, I'd chosen the wrong bus stop. It hadn't taken long for us to begin chatting though. We kept contact with each other in the two weeks I was in her country, meeting in secrecy every day. Back then, it wasn't. Being a woman, I could guess that she must have taken a lover. Because this kind of youthful glow can only be exuded from quality lovemaking. Oh my God! My best friend was having an affair! being a nonjudgmental person. I thought it prudent not to pry but my curiosity started growing.Reading about affairs in the print and having someone going through it right beside you is entirely different. I asked about her son and found that a mild blush spread across her cheeks. She informed that her son had recovered the strength of his hands. He was working on a new regime to enhance his fitness.Why the blush? I suggested that we have dinner at my place in the evening. My husband was on an outstation tour and my son was in a training camp. She agreed gleefully. But she will leave by 11 pm as her son might need her help for the post-recovery medication. It had to be administered every night before bed.We started the evening with our favorite Sula Champagne and Lucknow special Tundai kabab and.
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