Watershed

WATERSHED

She'd never spent so much money in Boots in her life. Now she looked at
the row of bottles and jars on her bathroom shelf with rising hysteria.
Tooth whitener, breath freshener, anti-wrinkle cream for around the
eyes, body moisturiser, revitalising shampoo...and all of it had only
four weeks to work its magic.

At least I haven't let myself go too much over the years, she'd thought
at first. A searching examination in her full-length mirror, in the
unforgiving afternoon light, had soon convinced her otherwise. She
shuddered and looked at the bottles again. All this for a man she'd
fallen in love with twenty years ago and hadn't seen for fifteen. A man
who had never stopped trying to find her and who was, unbelievably,
after a brief exultant correspondence through the magic of e-mail,
travelling thousands of miles across the world to see her in four
weeks' time.

My God. How would he feel when he first set eyes on her
forty-five-year-old face, and not too much later on her
forty-five-year-old body? She knew he wanted sex with her. Wanted it so
much, and told her so in such vivid ways, that she was surprised how
much she wanted it too.

She ran her hands down her thighs with distaste and sat down again on
the exercise machine. Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two...she could feel
her stomach muscles tighten with every stroke. Would it be enough?
Unwisely, she had sent him an out-of-date photograph as an attachment
to one of her e-mails, flatteringly fuzzy and soft-focus. He had
written back immediately, telling her with delight that she had hardly
changed at all in fifteen years. Oh God. Of course he would look
different too, she knew that, but somehow it didn't matter so much with
men, did it? And why did their flesh never seem to soften and sag the
way women's did? It wasn't fair. She sighed and began to rub cream into
her feet.

He had wanted to run away with her all those years ago. Something -
convention, fear, who knows what it was? - had stopped them taking the
final step. Eventually he'd moved abroad and taken her dreams with him.
Now, in an effort to renew their lost love, he had spent hundreds of
pounds on an air-ticket just to see her. That was humbling, glorious,
terrifying. A few months earlier she'd joined one of those internet
sites that promises to reunite you with long-lost friends and lovers,
and there was his name. Almost in a trance she had written, and in
those few moments possibly altered the course of her life.

Only two weeks now. The tryst had been arranged with infinite care. She
stared in the mirror and was sure the wrinkles around her eyes were
getting worse, not better. A little weight had gone from around her
waist, maybe, but soft unattractive rolls of fat still appeared when
she bent forward. No, no, she must watch her posture, stand straight
and stretch whenever possible. It was hell remembering.

She had played the scene in her head so many times, he the handsome
hero, she the romantic heroine, running into each other's arms in the
airport arrivals lounge. Crashing chords, glorious Technicolor. Then he
would whisk her away to a hotel in the country, feed her steak and
wine, and take her to bed for a whole night of passion. That was the
fantasy of course. In reality she would only have time to drive to the
local station and struggle to identify him among the commuting crowds.
She would take him back to her home where they would snatch a few
stolen, guilty hours together, just as they had done before so many
times, so long ago.

She smiled at her reflection but her eyes gazed accusingly back.
Twenty-four hours from now he would arrive, tired from his flight, full
of love, full of hope. He would plead with her to fly back with him.
How could she do it? How could she let down the man she'd loved for so
long?

That night she forgot to step on the scales. She didn't bother with the
anti-wrinkle cream. She chose ordinary paste to clean her teeth instead
of whitening polish. As she slipped into bed beside her husband of
twenty-two years, feeling his warm body press against hers, comfortable
and accepting, she knew what she was going to do.