The Fog - James Herbert [64]
Afterwards she was afraid that if she ever became pregnant again, the same thing would happen, and this had led to her frigidity. Even the precautions he took could not allay her fears and it wasn’t too long before he gave up trying. But they had still loved each other deeply and his casual affairs were just that. There was never any emotional involvement, just a physical act that offered him some release. Was it possible to be unfaithful yet still love your wife? He knew the answer, at least in his case, was yes.
And then yesterday. A day that was meant to bring them closer, to seal the gap that he felt was developing between them. The years of infidelity were finally beginning to take their toll and he had decided that he would no longer look outside his marriage for physical comfort. He had brought her down to the New Forest, where they’d spent so much time before they were married, to pledge his love and loyalty to her, that he would not let his body betray them any more, that there was still enough in their marriage to tie them together, to begin to build on again.
But in the fog that had suddenly enveloped them, she had told him she was leaving. She had found someone else who was prepared to live with her on her terms, who wouldn’t need others to satisfy his desires, who would be content to love her for herself and not her body.
He had been too dismayed even to plead with her.
That morning, he had felt a strange relief, almost as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He was free. It wouldn’t be him leaving her but the reverse. He didn’t have to worry about her breaking down because of the parting, she would be happy now. Perhaps it had been this which had bound him to her all these years; not love, but fear of hurting her when she’d already suffered so much. He even found it in himself to ask about the man. Who was he? Did he know him? Was he married? What did he do? He asked with no malice, with no thoughts of righteous indignation and she sensed this and answered his questions. His name was Kevin – Joe couldn’t remember the surname – no, he’d never met him, he was divorced, he was a radar engineer. She’d met him in London while Joe was away on one of his flights. They’d known each other years ago, before Joe, and hadn’t seen each other since. She was on a shopping spree and had bumped into him outside Heal’s in Tottenham Court Road. He was on his lunch break and he asked her to join him. She had.
Kevin had told her of his divorce three years before, but she’d said little of her relationship with Joe. At the end of the lunch, they both knew they’d felt a mutual contact with each other, reached out and been met as neither had been for years. He told her proudly of the new field he was helping to develop in radar and that at the moment he was based in London’s giant GPO Tower, promising her if she met him the next day he would give her a private tour of the fantastic building.
She broke her promise, but six days later, when Joe was away again, she rang his office at the Tower and arranged to meet him. That had been six months ago, and their feeling for one another had grown till neither wanted to live apart any longer.
She was surprised when Joe smiled at her and wished them both happiness. Was it really so easy to end ten years of marriage?
Joe had left the house and driven to Heathrow airport, the dull headache successfully excluding thoughts of his failed marriage from his mind. He didn’t bother to report the headache to the medical officer, considering the dull pain only a minor discomfort.
The 747 trundled towards its appropriated