pas de deux

‘Barry…’
‘Yes, love?’ He stirred slightly, but did not look up from the newspaper.
‘Barry.’
‘Mmm.’ He licked a finger and thumb and turned the page, settling back more comfortably as he did so and ruffling the pages into order. Eventually, his eyes wandered to the left to where Linda was standing stark naked in the doorway and he cried out and leaped to his feet.
‘Jesus!’
Linda scowled. The lines left by her bra were still visible on her bare shoulders. She touched her delicate skin self-consciously and cleared her throat.
‘You said to, well — to surprise you. To keep things interesting. This is me surprising you.’
‘Well it’s fair to say I’m surprised,’ said Barry slightly breathlessly. He pulled his collar away from his neck where it suddenly seemed to be digging in. “How long have you been there?’
‘Barry?’ said Linda, advancing towards him. Barry took a step backwards.
‘Yes, love?’
‘Come here.’
Barry mentally scanned his body for evidence of love bites, scratches, bruises. How long had it been since Linda had wanted to make love? Months, surely. Many months. His mind flickered briefly over the image of Angela poised above him, her hands clamped to his chest, her head thrown back. He liked the way the sunlight dappled her bare skin as they made love in the warmth of the afternoon, the bedroom made hot by the time of year and the fact they had to keep the window closed because Angela made too many noises. He looked at Linda now and his stomach dropped with dread and foreboding. Linda’s face was impassive but this indicated nothing; she had always been the best liar he’d ever met, polished and smooth, making swift dissembling and re-imagining seem effortless, almost like dancing. Linda met his gaze now with a steadiness that alarmed him, and then raised one eyebrow. He felt his cock twitch despite himself and flushed. Linda advanced towards him and he backed up a step and then fell, and as he did so the red cord which they had never had cause to pull but which eternally dangled in the corner of the room, dusty and unused, became tangled around one leg. Linda reached him and they fell as one, as the small tinny sound of the alarm broke out over the heads and scattered over them like rain. Linda smiled down at Barry and they waited for the nursing home staff to arrive. Moving seemed pointless. There was a small edge of triumph in Linda’s smile as the first nurse entered the room and curious residents peered in through the open door. With a sudden lurch of horror, Barry saw Angela’s face poke round the door frame and then her mouth open in a small O of shock. ‘No Angela,’ he wanted to say ‘it’s not what it looks like. I know she’s my wife of 70 years but she means nothing to me, you have to believe me.’ But the weight of Linda was still bearing down upon him and Barry felt at that moment that he could say nothing at all.