Looking back, it is easy to see how the holiday was going to change the person that I was; the stresses, the triggers, the opportunities, were all there. It was like the planets aligning for some spectacular solar eclipse. But of course, all that is easy to see with the benefit of hindsight.
The holiday was Tom's idea. He had to be in Sorrento for work, but, being the pragmatist that he is, he suggested now that we had some free time and a few less financial commitments, I might like to accompany him. Sorrento; the most romantic and alluring city in the world, and he tempts me with time and money. Not that he was incapable of sweeping me off my feet; when we first met, he was constantly surprising me with flowers, silly gifts, and the hottest love letters you can imagine, but I suppose that thirty years of marriage and raising three kids changes things.
And please don't think that I am complaining; I am not. In many ways Tom is a good husband, and he is the perfect father to our children; he has always been caring and supportive, and he provided us all with a wonderful home and the security to live the lives we aspired to. Ever since reaching puberty, I dreamed of just being a mum; spending my time taking care of a house and children. Tom, with his energy and hard work gave me that opportunity, and never questioned that it should be different. But, now that the everyday pressures of cooking, cleaning and school runs were behind me, I felt that I needed something more.
I have girlfriends, and when the last of the children went off to college, being fellow mums and in similar positions, they instinctively rallied into a support network. Our coffee mornings grew into lengthy lunches. Organizing car share for our kids changed into organizing gym classes, and the occasional swapping of magazines spawned a fully-fledged book club. We read mysteries. We read thrillers. We read avidly, and with each new book, we dissected and discussed.
I suppose that it was books that created the spark; the desire for a bit of passion in my life. We, the girls, of course read E. L. James; the trilogy had received too much publicity for any self-respecting woman's book club to just ignore. I had no inclination to investigate BDSM or find out if I had a dark side, but it did make me wonder if there was more to sex than the rather perfunctory ritual that Tom and I now occasionally performed. Neither did it lead to my wanting to add more than just Tom to my list of sexual conquests; Tom had been the only man that I had ever been intimate with, and I actually felt content that it should be remain that way. But it did lead to my adding more romance to my reading repertoire; not your everyday Mills and Boon style stuff, but books that explored the deeper side of relationships, particularly sexual relationships. I can see that may have fuelled my curiosity, albeit deep somewhere in my subconscious.
We arrived in Sorrento late on a Sunday. Whilst I slept for most of the 13 hour flight, Tom worked; reading through reports and making notes, getting ready for the hectic round of meetings that would occupy his week. He was enough of a gentleman to escort me to our first evening meal at our hotel, but he was understandably exhausted, so after we had eaten I made sure he got some much needed rest. I however, was too excited to sleep and returned to the bar for a night cap.
It was late October, and the hotel relatively quiet. The Maitre D' that had been immensely attentive to Tom and I during our meal, now greeted me like a friend, and offered me a liqueur and coffee on the terrace. I became lost in the atmosphere; the sheer beauty of the place, and the opportunity that I had been given to enjoy it. It felt as though everything that was missing from my life could come right in a place such as this.
That first evening was rather cool, and I had slipped into a cardigan and jeans before venturing downstairs. Monday however was much warmer. While Tom was out at meetings during the day, I occupied myself exploring the area close to the hotel, and relaxing by the pool. When Tom and I went for dinner that evening, I dressed in leggings and a short sleeved top. Antonio, the Maitre D', commented that I looked most beautiful. 'Molto carino.' It had been years since I had been complimented like that, and it seemed to really hit home. I know that I blushed, but I enjoyed the attention. When Tom eventually retired to the room to make his conference call back to the office, Antonio again invited me to take drinks on the terrace.
After again becoming lost in the moment, I found myself standing at the edge of the terrace, sipping a glass of sweet orange liqueur. It was there, my back to the terrace and hotel that I suddenly became aware of someone standing closely behind me. I have no idea now why I did not turn; that would have been a more natural reaction, but I didn't. I just stood there enjoying the majesty of the view. Apart from the sound of distant waves breaking over the rocks, it was completely silent, and I sensed that there was no one else close by.
This person moved closer. Whether it was the combination of wine and liqueurs, or just the peaceful atmosphere, I will never know, but I had no sense of danger or fear. I felt perfectly relaxed. I could feel the warmth of another body near mine; such was the distance now between us. I think I actually closed my eyes.
