THE FINAL CONVERSATION

As befits the most expensive and ever so exclusive restaurant in town, the tables were intimate and well separated. Each a little candlelit bastion of intimacy. Nevertheless, if one stood in the centre of the room as I currently was you could see all the tables and recognise the occupants.

They could also recognise me and the look of anger on my face.

This was proven when I saw Colleen, who I’d married twenty-seven years ago, holding hands across the table with a guy about fifteen years our senior. The pair were gazing into each other’s eyes. The cock-sucking mollusc looked like he’d been born in that $3,000 suit which, of course, he’d accessorised with a Patek Philippe watch. Read More …