No Regrets

Katherine recognised the striking looking man crossing the hotel foyer towards her. She put her coffee cup down on the table and waited. "Katherine? It has to be you . " His dark eyes were firmly fixed on her, oblivious the other men and women at the table. The same eyes that had watched her all those years ago. Across lecture rooms, across the students' dining hall, across lawns sprinkled with purple and yellow crocuses. Across the smoky bar at night. The dark, teasing eyes she had been afraid to meet. The eyes that would have led her into situations she dared not venture. The eyes that would have led her into bed and away from her safe, long-time boyfriend, Gerry. Katherine remembered the latte-coloured skin that had made him stand out at University in York when there were few foreign students. The wild dreadlocks now tamed into short curls - maybe an inch and a half long - and glistening under the dimmed hotel lights. The Seventies-style velvet jacket and loon pants now replaced with an expensive dark suit and a tan collarless shirt. How well his dress sense had matured, Katherine thought. How very well everything about him had matured. "Hello, Andrew," she said, turning away from her group now to give him her full attention. As she looked into his deep, dark eyes she could see he appreciated how she looked. The satisfying results of months of walking, swimming and careful dieting. The effort that gave her back her student figure . more or less considering the space of time. The little black shift dress she hadn't worn for ages fitted perfectly now. Tonight, she was still on a high from giving her best speech ever in the public speaking group she attended every fortnight. She had briefly glanced at her notes as she started off, and then she had been on a roll. The words had just tripped off her tongue, and she had surprised herself with the little impromptu comments that had sprung into her mind as she went along. Giving a speech was like going on stage. Nerve-wracking, but the exhilaration afterwards was worth it, and the confident glow that followed. "It can't be thirty years?" he whispered. "You've hardly changed ." Then, before she could return the compliment, she was suddenly swept up in his arms, her face buried in his neck, breathing in the rich sweetness of his hair and cologne. Everything, just everything about him felt and smelt so achingly familiar. And yet she had never been so close to him before. It had always been much too dangerous. After a few moments, she became aware of the bemused attention from the rest of her group. She eased herself out of his arms. She turned back to the others. "Andrew's an old college friend," she explained, hoping they wouldn't notice the blush that was now moving from her chest to her face. They chatted for a while, then Andrew gestured to a small alcove across the room. "What will you have to drink? We can talk easier over there." And they were still talking and drinking red wine long after the last member of her group had gone home. The following morning, Katherine dressed quickly and tip-toed out of Andrew's hotel bedroom before he woke. She knew he would understand. They'd discussed their meeting endlessly in their e-mails and chat-rooms over the last few months. And their little rendezvous had been worth waiting all those years for. She'd had the same pleasure and excitement she'd had with all the others. So far - thanks to her old student website - she'd met up with six old friends. Friends of her and Gerry's. Boys she'd turned down because she'd been totally faithful to Gerry. She'd been proud of those thirty years of faithful marriage. Faithful on both sides. Or so Katherine had thought - until last Christmas. Until she discovered Gerry's drunken one-night stand with her best friend. He'd sworn that it had been the only lapse in their thirty year marriage. She could have left him, but she didn't. Three grown-up children, a fine big house and a good lifestyle were too much to throw away after one lapse. Besides, she still loved him - nearly as much as she had all those years ago. The pain had been immeasurable. But it was easing. Katherine had always believed that you regret the things you don't do in life much more than the things you do. She had few real regrets, but over the years she'd occasionally found herself day-dreaming about those fit, handsome young students like Andrew. She reckoned a few more meetings with them now would even the score.

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