Tuesday
Harry Dalton put his book down and looked around. There was something about airport terminals that made it difficult to relax. So many nervous people milling around. People going somewhere but in fact not going anywhere at all.
He played a game he often amused himself with in these situations, looking at the couples around him and trying to imagine what their love life was like. He was convinced that he could pick out which couples were adventurous in bed, which couples made love most often, what unusual activities they were into.
Harry's most recurring thought when he played this game was his absolute conviction that most of the couples he looked at were having more and better sex than he was. He and Olivia were on their way home after a great week's holiday on the Red Sea -- good weather, great food, fantastic beaches. But his hope before the holiday that the luxury resort and their expensive suite would make Olivia more relaxed and more willing to make love had been dashed. They had made love just once in the middle of the week.
'Once a week' just about summed up their sex life. And what they had actually done wasn't different to the standard fare they got up to home.
He loved Olivia deeply. She was ridiculously attractive with a cute face and shoulder length blonde hair and, in common with other former dancers, she had a great petite figure. He regularly noticed other men -- and sometimes women -- staring at her, undoubtedly thinking that the guy she was with was ridiculously lucky.
And Harry knew that he was lucky. Olivia was gorgeous and they had been married for 15 months now. But something about her upbringing had left her shy and unable to fully let go when they made love. He had tried various things but Olivia's normal reaction to new ideas to improve their lovemaking was simply to say no and imply that, as far as she was concerned, no problem existed and hence no solution was required.
Harry had even started to wonder if he should leave Olivia and find somebody else to spend his life with. Having a beautiful wife was one thing but his sex life was important to him and if she couldn't give him what he wanted...
His thoughts were cut short as he realised that, to his left, Olivia needed his help. He turned and immediately recognised the signs. They often reoccurred in airport terminals - Olivia's fear of flying. She was gripping the handle of her chair tightly and had the look of panic on her face.
"I'm sorry Darling. I'm not sure I can do this. Do we have to fly?" she said.
"It's okay Livvy, it's okay," Harry reassured her, holding her arm gently. "You know it will be alright really. Have you taken one of your tablets?" he said, referring to the mild sedatives that he knew Olivia normally kept in her handbag for precisely this situation.
