Short Story: Civilised Behaviour by Dan Boylan

Gerald let himself in at the front door, slid his briefcase under the walnut cabinet, slip off his jacket and hung it on the balustrade at the bottom of the stair.

He unfastened the buttons of his waistcoat and stood silently for several seconds. He could hear the shower running upstairs, he paused, sniffed and smelt the lingering whiff of Bulkan Sobrane in the conservatory and knew someone else had been in the house, again. He poked his head into the kitchen and saw the empty wine bottle besides the refrigerator and then through the French windows, and saw the two wine glasses on the conservatory table. He turned back into the vestibule and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, the silver hair at his temples, furrowed brow and the worry lines about his eyes. ‘It’s happening again,’ he thought, with a mix of anger and sadness, ‘just the same as last time when Lucinda began her nonsense which drove us through the labyrinth of legal chambers and finally, into the divorce courts.’

He strode briskly up the stairs and pushed the bedroom door open to discover the unmade bed, he lifted the lid of the laundry basket to see her stockings and silk undies on top of the pile. He shuddered, turned and scurried back down stairs, bit his lip and stood quite still as he tried to compose himself; he was about to turn towards the lounge when the bathroom door opened and she stepped into the landing, her dressing gown loosely tied around her midriff. “Oh, hello darling, I didn’t hear you come in, have you had a good day?”

He composed himself in an instant and ran his fingers through his hair, “It’s been rather busy, actually, that’s why I’m a little late. Charles has given me the Delamare contract and it seems to be in rather a muddle. He’s given me a small team of interns and juniors and asked me to submit a plan of operations by Friday which frankly, is asking quite a lot and I told him so.”
“Good for you darling, won’t be a minute, are you alright with salmon for dinner and a nice bottle of the Pinot Grigio?”
“Eh, yes fine, I’ll be in my study for a while, I want to make a start on this so I can advise the team tomorrow morning.”

He spread a ream of papers across his desk, loosened his tie, poured himself a glass of whisky and settled into his leather swivel chair.

He was convinced now that her affair was gathering pace, her outings and lunches were becoming all too frequent; he had long known that the difference in their ages would eventually become an issue. He thought he had to allow her a good deal of freedom and independence but he did expect her to be a tad discreet and not use their own home as a love nest. He also thought that if  he gave her sufficient free reign and allowance and showered her with gifts it would ensure her loyalty and faithfulness was guaranteed, as he slid reluctantly into old age.

He sipped the malt and savoured its firey peatiness as he mulled over the last five years……………he recalled how they had met at summer buffet, how he had been tantalised and seduced by her charm, her beauty, her grace, her laughter, and become beguiled when he learned of her recent divorce. He recalled how the years of solitude and overwork had turned him into a hermit, a wealthy hermit, destined to a life of solitary pursuits and long, lonely weekends. Their courtship was brief. He recalled with joy how he had launched himself into headlong into a full blown romance.

They had met at a summer garden party at a colleagues rambling country house, the sun shone, the wines chilled and crisp and the string quartet played a string of Straus waltzes. He stood taking it all in when she bumped into him, “Oh, so sorry, careless of me, have we met?”

“Gerald Harris.” And he held out his hand.

“Charlene Reynolds, Charlie for short. Do you know the host?”

“Old colleague from the city.”

“Investors?”

“Yes, from way back, you?”

“I know the hostess, also from way back. Sorry, must dash, promised to help with drinks.”
“Sure, bye.”

Later they bumped into each other at the buffet, ”Oh, it’s you again.” She smiled.

“Just like old times.” He grinned.
“Look, there’s a young Lothario not too far away, trying to win me over, let’s go and have buffet together. Perhaps we can give him the slip.”

And that’s how it all began.

He stared at the photographs on the wall above his desk, their honeymoon on the QEII, in the Caribbean, skiing in St Moritz, drinking bubbly at Goodwood, their frequent long weekends at the stylish St Germain Hotel in Paris……..

He was shaken from his reverie by the soft tap on the door, ”Yes?” he inquired.

She opened the door and stepped into the small study, he stared at her in silence, stared at her radiance and beauty, “You’re cross with me, arn’t you.” She said, with candour.

“No, no,” he blustered, as if caught out, “It’s just, well, been a trying day…….”

“I was going to come into the office and surprise you and take you to somewhere special for lunch, it’s just five years today since we met. I was just about to leave when Monique knocked on the door, she’s going through a bad patch with Henri, all tears, angst and wailing. I had to try and sort her out. We had some wine, it was two thirty when she left, I just slipped into bed for a nap. I woke up just before you arrived. I’m sorry, it’s just that…..”
“Monique?” he queried with surprise. “Monique was here?”and she detected that any irritation or annoyance in his voice had suddenly dissipated.“It’s just that I’ve been rather taken by surprise with this new contract. I thought something had, well, not to worry, all’s well. Look, I’m sorry your little surprise was spoiled by Monique’s unexpected visit, eh, I’m going to be busy these next few days but I can take a few days off from Saturday, how about we fly down to Monte Carlo and stay in the penthouse suite at Le Paradise for the weekend?”

“Oh you are a sweaty that would be lovely. You’re always coming up with lovely ideas and suggestions to surprise me. I’ll go and see what’s suitable in my wardrobe.” And she squeezed his shoulder and turned away from the mirror so that he couldn’t see her face, and she allowed herself a wry smile, or perhaps, a crafty grin.

He held his breath for several spine tingling seconds, and then let out a long sigh. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and smirked and realised that if she had paid him the surprise visit earlier, she would have found him In flagrante delicto with the buxom, silver haired Audrey from accounts.

ooOoo

Author: Dan Boylan

Author Bio:

Dan Boylan is a retired Yorkshireman, living in Hampshire, England. He has been writing articles and travel features for a series of magazines and other publications for some 25 years. His favourite genre is short fiction which is liberally sprinkled with intrigue and the unexpected, often with humour and a twist in the tail/tale!

He creates imaginative story baselines with colourful character profiles and intriguing plots. He has been a member of various writers’ groups for 25 years producing more than numerous travel articles, 60 short stories, dramas and rattling good yarns.

His first full length novel, Lomax at war was published in February 2023 and his next novel, The pioneers, is due for publication in mid 2023.

He is well read, interested in fiction, travel, news, history, geography and all/any aspects of humanity and human behaviour.

His daughter claims that he is an absolute mine of utterly useless information.