It was a tearful good-bye, she clung to me as if she would never let me go, as if in letting me go, she would never see me again. This touching scene was interrupted by the final boarding call for my flight to London.
"I've got to go now, I'll see you in a week."
She gave me one last, lingering, kiss. "'Bye, you behave, and don't go falling for any beautiful women over there." These were her usual parting words. She knew that I would never do that to her.
"As if I'd do that to you. Take care, I love you." I kissed her quickly and walked through the gate to the boarding ramp.
We had been married now for five years and, I knew that this would be the last time that we would go through this parting. What Sylvie was not aware of was that I knew, deep inside me, that she would not be waiting for my return.
Ours had all the hallmarks of a happy marriage, we had a lot of friends, some had been friends from before we married, and some had become friends from work contacts since then. We had dinner parties on a regular basis and attended even more given by friends. Our social life was full and without any relationship tensions. We were even talking about starting a family, but these discussions had never gone beyond the talking and of course the practise, regular and intense practise. Our sex life was frequent and great. At least it was until recently.
Over the past couple of months I had detected a difference in Sylvie. She seemed to be a little quieter than usual, laughed a little less, and her kisses lacked the intensity of before. At first I put it down to familiarity taking over our lives and tried to spice up our lovemaking. She went along with it, but lacked enthusiasm. She stopped telling me about her work and when I discussed my work her response was, 'that's nice', with all the sincerity of a checkout operator saying 'have a nice day'. If I didn't know better I'd say that her final kiss was a return to the glory days of our marriage, but I knew better. In seven days I would return to nothing but an empty house.
He was a work colleague, her new boss and a new inclusion in the office where she worked. I admit that he was better looking than me, handsome according to some. He was taller than me, had broader shoulders and narrower waist. He dressed to impress at all times, or so I was told the last time that I slobbed around in trackies on a Sunday. I didn't see the need to impress in my days off even though Sylvie was always immaculately presented. I had to be immaculate the whole time that I was on the job, and considered that to be enough.
For the best part of the next week I would be sitting in a conference room, listening to dozens of climate experts giving their opinions about where the world will be in twenty years from now if we do not curb the amount of greenhouse gas emissions we pump into the atmosphere. I would have my chance to deliver my findings and, while I was sure of them, I knew that they would not be well received.
I was here as the head researcher to support the minister representing the Australian government at this conference. The previous government was big on rhetoric, using words designed to appease the Green senators who they needed to get their legislation through parliament. What the minister knew, but was prepared to distance himself from if necessary, was that I had been asked to present the findings of my research into a climate change model that I had been working on for some years. This model was controversial in that it didn't support the current theories being thrown around.
I sat through the first day's presentations without having to concentrate on what was being said, I'd heard it all before, the industrial powers had to stop discharging greenhouse gases into the atmosphere or we'd all die. The problem with this was that the major polluters were not about to take the necessary measures to curb the emissions, because they would lose their competitive edge, and the cost would be too high because of job losses due to production being moved offshore to countries that had no pollution caps.
My mind kept wandering back to Sylvie and my future, or lack of it, with her.
The delegates were filing from the auditorium, me included, when a voice behind me stopped me in my tracks. "Sam, wait." I recognised it from my university days. I turned to face Maggie Houghton. "Where were you today?"
"I've been here all day." I was puzzled by her question, I knew that she had seen me.
"The body was here, but your mind has been thousands of kilometres away."
"I was concentrating on my presentation tomorrow."
"Bullshit! Knowing you, you have it down pat, every little detail is etched into your brain. You probably even recite it in your sleep." This was true, well not the bit about reciting it in my sleep, I wouldn't know about that. "There's something else rattling around in your skull. Tell auntie Maggie all about it."
This was the Maggie of my past, the person who I'd been able to talk to about my problems, who knew the answers to them and let me work it out for myself while believing that she had solved them for me. It was she that gave me the courage to ask Sylvie out for our first date, and that took some doing, Sylvie had her pick of all of the eligible males among our classes.
"Do you have ten hours?"
"Sure thing, your place or mine?"
"Neutral territory would be safest." We had been lovers early on at uni, but had both decided that we were better friends that we could ever expect to be as marriage partners. But that didn't mean that the temptation wasn't there still, I just had to not put myself into a situation where I would have to resist it.
"Coward. I promise that I won't try to lure you into my bed, after all I am a married woman now."
"Oh, when did all this happen? Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?"
"A couple of months ago. It was an impulsive act on my part, he'd been pressuring me for ages and I gave in. He knew about us and I wasn't going to have you there, hovering in the background to remind him that he was my second choice, even if you were married to the most gorgeous girl around."