We were both married with husbands successful enough to allow us to pursue our hobby. Neither of us had children, Evelyn by choice, I because I couldn...��t. We both loved travel, our sense of humour was similar. In breaks between rehearsal and performance, we happily went shopping or sight-seeing together. We became good companions. Evelyn was a petite brunette with an oval face, blue eyes, high cheek bones and a mouth I learned to call passionate. She was five years older than me at forty-one. I wanted to mention about the possibility of me going with him, but somehow I sensed it was futile and would only have driven the nail in even further. I was sure he would have mentioned it up front, saying something like: ‘Guess what, darling? Great news… We’re off to America.’ Suddenly the atmosphere was oppressive. I gulped my drink, wishing I’d asked for something stronger than orange juice and then stood up. My head swam. I needed some air. ‘I think I want to go home, Alex.’ He escorted me. More

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