hot & cold...

Today's thought was that maybe after all she is faithful to her husband, she just wants a bit of harmless flirty fun and a few days out and my ideas about her and others are a mixture of paranoia and office gossip.

That would explain a certain amount - and make me feel a lot better about not getting anywhere. But I can't quite fit her wish to rent a room from me in with that. How many reasons could there possibly be for a married woman to want to rent a room on the other side of London from her house?

No I think the worst case scenario remains the most plausible.

Working on other distractions - I sent a text message to Jenny just saying "Hi!" to see if she'd reply so I could suggest next time she visits London she comes just to see me. No reply. Hmm. I'm planning to ring Mrs K's sister shortly and invite her out for coffee tomorow after work. We have a fewthings to discuss anyway - financial affairs and so on. And I'm pondering the idea of calling our former office manager Rosina and asking her to have dinner one evening. Give her the choice between that and having her number deleted from my mobile. Again, not to attempt a seduction, just to remind me that there are other attractive women in the world.

next

It occurred to me yesterday that the "you're so patient" she delivered after I'd helped her write her job application actually has quite another implication. Have I been a trifle slow on the uptake here? In addition while we were working on the app I made some throwaway comment about the sacrifices I'd made for her and she said something like "yes I know you have" and touched my foot with hers, not once but twice. I'd got into such an "I've been rejected" mindset I barely noticed these things, or if I did just found them slightly annoying, but in the normal course of events they'd be a cue for considerable optimism.

Now that I think about it she touched me several times last Thursday as well, after my unsuccessful caress - a touch on the foream as we talked, the hand-holding (admittedly initiated because we had to get up a steep slope, but continued long after) and then the kiss at the tube station. Even though this takes us no nearer to one another than Mrs K's sister and I have been for years, it's still movement in the right direction. Perhaps even a clumsy and rejected pass breaks down a barrier?

Perhaps out of desperation I've been consulting websites on seduction technique and I have to say that almost all the classic signs of attraction are there - lots of eye contact, she doesn't flinch away if I brush something off her hair, she tells me about what she's not getting from her husband, she gives me compliments, she keeps appointments and doesn't stand me up, she initiates us being alone together and of course there have been suggestive e-mails and some out and out flirting. Some of it could be put down to normal workplace banter, but probably not all. She invited herself round to my flat, dammit. I've also been looking at Neuro-Linguistic Programming techniques, and the funny thing is that she's already mentioned several of the themes they suggest introducing - connection, communication, relaxation, holidays... perhaps she's been using the NLP techniques on [i]me[/i]... (Oh, and apparently begging is very bad, so I may have to rethink that plan...)

So what I'm increasingly thinking is that perhaps I did the wrong thing at the wrong time, and I need to put in some more work - increase the privacy and then direct the conversation better, talk more about her moribund marriage, the drawbacks of monogamy and why I think people should be free and make the most of life, ask her what she really enjoys doing and have her tell me why, explain about the special connection I think we have, perhaps talk about sex in general terms, make a lot more eye contact, touch her a little more (but not for so long she feels the need or opportunity to remove my hand) and watch out for a moment when I think she wants me to kiss her.

The website also recommends sleeping with ten other women immediately you get fixated on any one, which is sort of in accordance with my idea about getting hold of Sam & Jenny, but a little more extreme and not terribly practical. Looking less keen if brushed off is also recommended, so perhaps my instincts on all these matters are correct. Now that I think about it she's been a little peremptory recently, possibly as she's realised how keen I am on her. Certainly I have to wait for her to call me now, not the other way around. Then I think the next step is to suggest that we go somewhere where there's no danger we'll meet anyone either of us knows, somewhere we can fully relax and be ourselves...

I dare say even in the best case scenario there are still plenty of ways to screw this up, and in the worst my initial impression was correct and she's not interested, but I certainly think there's scope to give this another shot. Now I have to keep myself busy until she calls...

ah...

So she sent me the job app yesterday and I made some suggestions, including some slightly barbed comments about needing to ask someone in the building trade. She also said in an e-mail she'd felt fine on Friday apart from a slightly sore head and how had I felt.? I replied "A dog ate my sandwich! - I think I may be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder". (The symptoms of which have been advertised on the work website following the terrorist attack two Thursdays back). She replied that she thought I needed a holiday to get over this disorder. Hmph. Then towards the end of the afternoon she came over and asked very softly with pleading eyes if I'd help her write the application today - "...is that fair?". "No, it's not fair", I said, "but I will give you a hand".

So this is what I did, sat with her in a meeting room from 5.00pm until 8.00 helping her apply for a job I don't think she'll actually get, and trying hard to project the impression "I know exactly what you're up to, I know you're being flirtatious just to get me to help you, and I know you know I'm desperately besotted with you and you're taking advantage, and we both know I'm never actually going to get anywhere with you, but I like you so much I don't mind".

"I really think you should be a teacher" she said when we finished, "you're so patient...". I looked at her with as unimpressed a look as I could muster and replied, "You can walk me to the Tube station if you like." I let the first southbound go and waited with her for her train. She kissed me goodbye on the lips without prompting, (and wiped her lipstick off my mouth straight after, with perhaps a rather practiced motion). I let her take the lead entirely and even held back a little. Perhaps I should play hard to get?

I've actually been through all the classic stages of grieving with this - shock, denial, anger, guilt (or "perhaps I could have done things differently" at any rate), envy and although I've flirted a little with acceptance I've actually been revisting denial quite a lot. I like denial. Presently I'm thinking that maybe if I get her somewhere quiet and really shamelessly beg, it might just work. Leonard Cohen says it works for him.... and Truffaut's "L'Homme Qui Aiment Les Femmes" has one of the women say to the title character that his successful seduction technique is to look as if he'll die if he doesn't get them.

This afternoon she sent an e-mail "You look stressed today" to which I replied "And your proposals to remedy this are...?" "What do you suggest?" she responded, so I countered, "I think it's your turn to come up with a suggestion". This should have been the cue for a really outrageous response, but sadly only elicited "Did I not suggest the picnic - OK, how about another afternoon away from work - preferably when it's sunny?". Hmm. I did think about saying that the only suggestions I could think of might result in a slap in the face, but decided against it. Again, I don't want her to acknowledge that she's rejected me, I still have this hopelessly optimistic feeling that if we both don't mention it we can forget about it and start afresh from a different point. Plus while I don't mind larking about and appearing to treat this lightly it's actually seriously painful and I don't really want another kick in the teeth, even a very sweetly delivered one.

Tomorrow she goes on two weeks' leave - she's taking this time although her planned month in India has been cancelled I think due to family problems. Hopefully she'll spend one of the 14 days with me, or some of it at least. I'll definitely miss her - and her absence will give my imagination scope to really mess my head up unfortunately.

now what?

After feeling bad all weekend I had a short sleep after Sunday lunch and awoke feeling entirely fine and reconciled about everything. That was that, I thought. Tariff now was three days, not so bad. Then today was bad again, although no longer chagrinned so much as melancholy. I was on a training course, so didn't see Madame, but also had perhaps too much time to sit and ponder.

Anyway, then after getting home I got a text message from her - "Hope the training went well, wld u be able to help with my job appl tomorrow?"

Do I understand what's going on or not? Asking for further help with the job app (which she produced on Thursday afternoon for me to look over also, shortly after my unsuccessful pre-pounce) seems like adding insult to injury. On the other hand maybe it's a test? Or she doesn't know how important Thursday was to me? Or it was just the time or location she didn't like and something is still due to happen? If you exclude that one incident from Thursday the day still looks promising (handholding, goodbye kiss), perhaps there's been a further huge misunderstanding on my part? Or I may be clutching at straws. Perhaps she's just entirely shameless about getting help from wherever she can, and she knows I'm so twisted around her little finger I'll do anything for her?

Back on Planet Earth I have to help Mrs K out with her own job application, The Brother meanwhile, who's been helping me with the flat refurb has gone there this afternoon with this woman "Biscuits" that he met on the internet, to have sex on my new mattress. That can't be right, surely? Everyone gets to misbehave in my flat except me...

Fallout

Actually, this hurts a whole lot more than I thought it was going to. Like being 21 again, but not in a good way. Obviously I’m not asking for anyone’s sympathy, just reporting the facts.

These things come and go in waves, we know, the top of the wave here being painful envy on account of what I still assume is her liaison with Bob the Builder. Without that, things would be considerably easier to bear. I suppose when you’ve been thinking about something for six months or so and, to be honest, putting it at the top of your list of goals, not having it there any more is bound to produce a bit of fallout.

The mind being what it is, I sometimes find myself trying to rationalise – it was just the wrong time, she might change her mind, the conversation about guilt and long lunches didn’t have the weight I’m putting on it. Well, you never do know, but frankly I suspect this is clutching at straws, even if it does make me feel better for a little while. I've always had this theory that until you crystallise a woman's feelings for you by making a move on her, you're in with a chance if you pick the right moment, but that once she's decided she's not interested, you've had it. I'm not sure if this is actually true, but it's going to prevent me from clarifying the situation with Indira (so crystallising matters further) I suspect.

I did go for a run round the park yesterday morning, the first for a couple of weeks, and felt good. Physical exercise definitely helps, as does the right sort of music – "Music for a Found Harmonium" by the Penguin Cafe Orchestra had me skipping about quite happily on Friday night. However, the refurbishment work on my flat does not have the same appeal now – very much the motor for this was the idea that I’d be taking Indira back there, and now that’s no longer the case, the work is a slog rather than a labour of love. Added to that, being there, in fact the whole idea of the flat and the decorating, is a reminder of my thwarted plans. And Indira’s request to rent a room there... well, hopefully she’ll understand and just drop that, but the idea that I’ve been slaving away frantically for weeks just to give her a place to take someone else is insupportable.

I’ve been trying to find ways of distracting myself. Other attractive women, is my theory, so I’ve been trying to get hold of Mrs K’s sister "I’m feeling fed up – I thought you could cheer me up a bit" or my married ex-girlfriend Jenny who I’ve met up with a couple of times over the last month and who I still harbour a sharp desire of sleeping with once more, for reasons we won’t go into here. I’m not convinced it’s going to work. The idea is to diffuse the pressure by dividing your desire between several people so that no one relationship assumes undue seriousness. I’m not sure it’s working, although perhaps otherwise I would feel a whole lot worse. Certainly thinking hard about Jenny (whose become quite gorgeous as she’s got older, let me tell you) doesn’t seem to help. Maybe seeing her would, but I suspect my plans there may come to naught also, which I assume would make me feel even worse. Whatever, perhaps I will text her on Monday and ask her if next time she comes to London it might be solely to see me... The Sister, meanwhile, is unreachable – I’ve left messages. Dinner out with The Brother and Mrs K last night certainly didn’t help. And it’s not the sort of thing where you can cry on the partner’s shoulder...

I sent Indira a text message on Friday – "Hope you got home OK and not too much the worse for wear. Have a nice day and see you Monday". A reply arrived some hours later (they can get stuck in the ether for a considerable time) "Thank u 4 lunch and the chanmpane, yr efforts really impresed me. Got home ok. Hope u r havin a stress free day. Sorry 4 the misunderstandin." A lot hinges on what we both understand this "misunderstandin" to be. Although specifically it was the idea that we’d stick around after lunch and go and see a movie in the evening, I suspect it might really be the rather larger misunderstanding that our relationship was going to be a sexual one.

By the way, is this love? I was only aiming at an illicit fling all along after all. She bores me sometimes and there are plenty of other women who are more attractive, and even that I fancy more. Perhaps it’s just the rejection that’s upset me, not who’s doing the rejecting. Yet if we judge by the results, the "L" word unfortunately seems to be the most appropriate one. Damn!

It’s not the end of the world. I’ve told myself all along, if it doesn’t work out, any pain is just proof that all the equipment is still working OK. Often I don’t mind at all. I know that in a few days or weeks I’ll feel fine (seeing Indira every day and having to be friends might make things better or worse, I’m not sure yet).

Meanwhile, I’m getting up very early every day, finding it hard to concentrate, my appetite is affected, I feel nauseous, I’m getting mood swings... Who would have thought it at nearly 46 years old? Whoopee.

...Gang aft agley...

An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, For promis'd joy!

A hand stretched out to caress the neck, politely but definitely removed. That’s all it takes, a tiny little gesture, no words required. So this occurred quite early into our picnic, and it didn’t wreck the afternoon. We even walked along holding hands later on, and when we parted at Belsize Park tube there was a chaste but very affectionate kiss on the lips.

But I really wasn’t happy. Six months of my life invested in a mirage, ah well.

You have to treat these things with non-attachment – if it goes well, OK, if it goes badly, forget you were ever interested and be friends. Except I probably don’t need to forget this time; I think I can get away with still being interested; after all this is a mature woman who can take interest as a compliment, not a foolish teenager who’d be embarrassed by it.

Anyway, because she’d said she wanted to go on a picnic and drink champagne, this is what we did, I checked Oddbins’ website, picked the best £25 bottle I could find (Demi-Sec because I thought she’d appreciate a touch of sweetness), went to John Lewis and bought some flute glasses & a champagne stopper, bought some little speakers and CD’s because she’d said she wanted music, got my hair cut, stopped off on the way to work to get strawberries and cream, dashed out just before leaving to buy some ice because she’d forgotten to bring her wine cooler and we were ready to go.

She was very impressed by the glasses - I admitted to her I’d bought them "in a sale", but didn’t mention that I’d also bought the micro-speakers, flowers for my flat, a new fridge to chill the champagne back down if there was any left by the time we got there, and a new mattress. Really you only want people to be impressed with the lengths you’ve gone to if you’ve been successful, if you’ve failed it’s just embarrassing.

She told me I’d appeared in one of her dreams last Thursday - we’d all had to stay overnight at work because of a terrorist bomb on the underground, I’d been there in a top hat, we’d all sat around talking all night and it had been great fun...I said she’d appeared in one of my dreams but it hadn’t been work related. "I was trying to kiss you, and you weren’t having any of it", I said. "Did I slap you?" she asked. "No, but you definitely weren’t interested. It must have been one of those prophetic dreams. They all mean something, don’t they? Although I’m not sure what a top hat means."

A shame when everything else she said sounded so promising - she was bored with her husband/with being married, if she had her way they'd live in two separate houses, she was going away for the weekend with her girlfriends and they'd had to sign a contract saying no-one was allowed to talk about their kids of mention anything that happened while they were away...

I also mentioned as we were on our way off the Heath that I’d thought this was going to be our day for a long lunch, lasting until late at night and incorporating a trip to the cinema, which she’d suggested in the tube on the way back from the restaurant we went to last week. She’d forgotten all about this idea unfortunately; I suppose I wasn’t clear that this is what I was expecting, and it became apparent on arrival in the park that she was expecting to get home by early evening. But when I mentioned my mistake she said she felt really guilty and would feel bad all weekend. Well, she really needn’t, I said. I think she’s also excused me from the horse-riding excursion, presumably because she’s realised that I only agreed to it on the assumption that we’d be having an affair.

Finally, when I asked what she planned to spend Friday doing (she’s booked a day’s leave) she looked a little sheepish and said she was having lunch with someone. "And that would be a long lunch, would it?" Hmph, I’m pretty sure I know who she’s having this long lunch with. Failing to get someone because they’re a chaste Gujarati housewife is one thing, but failing to get them when they’re up to all sorts of misbehaviour with someone else is a whole other story.

So anyway, I’ve written this now while the moment’s fresh. I still had a nice time, I still think she’s lovely, I don’t feel too crushed, but we’ll see how I feel in the morning.

Oh, and while we were picknicking a dog ran up and while I was trying to fend it away from Indira (she hates dogs) it ran off with my sandwich. A minor detail, added later, but it relates, as you'll see...