One Perfect Summer

fills the small space. Eventually I huddle in closer to him and rest my cheek on his biceps. He puts his arm around me and draws me closer. This is unbearable.
    ‘Do you still love me?’ he asks after a while.
    I hesitate before answering. ‘Yes.’
    I can feel him tense up. It’s almost as though he’s too afraid to speak.
    ‘But I love Lukas too.’ I have to tell him this. I have to be honest.
    ‘Do you love him more?’ His voice wavers as he glances down at me.
    I look up into his eyes. Then I shake my head, ever so slightly.
    ‘Alice . . .’ He touches his hand to my face.
    No. No, no, no, don’t kiss me. I don’t want to cheat on my husband.
    But then his lips are on mine and the feeling is so blissful that I’m rendered powerless. I can’t help but kiss him back.
    This isn’t real. It’s not real. I’m in another lifetime . . .
    Our kiss deepens and we fall back onto the hard cold stone. I want him so much. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone. More than I even wanted him all those years ago.
    ‘I love you,’ he murmurs into my mouth.
    Lukas.
    ‘Stop.’
    Lukas.
    ‘Stop it!’ I push him away. ‘I can’t do this,’ I say agitatedly, beginning to stand up. ‘I’m married! I should go. I should go to my parents, or to Germany.’
    ‘No! Please don’t. Please don’t,’ he begs, looking up at me. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t touch you again.’
    If I’m being honest that’s the last thing I want to hear, but I nod slowly and focus on his chin. ‘We should get back. It will be dark soon,’ I say in a daze.
    Once more he bounds to his feet and in a surreal way I’m reminded that he’s Joseph Strike, martial arts expert and A-list actor. We walk back to the cottage, mostly in silence.
    Near the house Joe stops suddenly and looks at the ground. I realise with a start that this is where we found Dyson. I go over to him and take his hand. We walk on.
    ‘Did you ever think about getting another dog?’ I ask quietly as we approach the gate.
    He shakes his head quickly and lets go of my hand. ‘It wouldn’t be fair. I travel too much.’ He opens the gate for me and holds it back for me to pass.
    ‘Couldn’t someone look after him while you’re away?’
    ‘That’s not very “me”, Alice.’ He looks at me and smiles.
    I take the keys out of my pocket and open the door. We go inside and take off our coats.
    ‘Do you want a fire?’ he asks.
    ‘Yeah, that’d be great.’
    ‘Cool.’ He heads off to the living room.
    ‘What do you want for dinner?’ I call after him.
    He pokes his head back through to the kitchen. ‘Shit! I didn’t think about bringing food.’
    ‘Don’t worry, I did.’
    ‘Ever the planner,’ he says with a smile. ‘Anything would be great. You know what I like,’ he adds.
    ‘Are you sure you’re not on some dodgy macrobiotic diet?’ I ask wryly.
    He grins at me. ‘New Year’s resolution?’
    ‘What did you do for Christmas?’ I ask curiously.
    ‘Nothing. Spent it in my hotel. Just another day to me.’
    I frown at him. He shrugs and returns to the living room. That’s so sad. He has no one to spend Christmas with. I guess that’s always been the way for him – ever since he was a teenager. He has no family. Pity engulfs me. I pause and then walk through to him. He’s piling logs in the hearth. I sit on the sofa and watch him.
    He glances up at me. ‘What’s up?’
    ‘I’m sad that you have no one to spend Christmas with. I wish I could have invited you home to my parents’ house.’
    He looks amused. ‘I’m sure that would have gone down very well. Here’s that idiot bloke again, except this time he’s screwing up our daughter’s marriage instead of just her university experience.’
    I give him a look, but don’t say anything.
    ‘I’m starving,’ he says meaningfully.
    ‘I’m going!’ I jump up and head back to the kitchen.
    He comes through after a little while. ‘So what are we having?’
    ‘Now don’t get angry, but I’ve only got ready meals.’
    He laughs. ‘Why would I be angry?’
    I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’ Lukas hates ready meals. Even homemade lasagne from the farm shop. ‘We’re having Indian.’
    ‘Brilliant!’ he exclaims.
    I laugh. ‘Are you joking?’
    ‘No! I bloody miss Indian. They don’t do it at all well in the States.’
    ‘I’m not sure this is going to be a very good substitute for the real thing.’
    ‘We should go out to a restaurant one night!’ he says excitedly before his