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and want to be with you. But … what about your wife? What will you do?’
    â€˜Forget about her,’ he’d whispered. ‘You didn’t want to know about her before, so let’s keep it that way for now. I don’t want her to spoil anything.’
    Remembering his words again now reminded her of how little she really knew about him. Lou was so right to have picked up on that. Aware of movement beside her, Ali opened her eyes, hoping to find her friend awake and in a mood to talk. But despite her change of position, Lou’s head was slumped against the headrest, her distinctive eye mask still in place.
    Disappointed, Ali shifted in her seat, slipping off her shoes, and returned to her thoughts. She had curled herself around their secret until she’d got used to it, squeezing every drop of private pleasure from it. She was dying to see the expression on her friends’ faces when they heard she was going to settle down. Most of her women friends hadbecome so wrapped up in their marriages and children, they didn’t look outwards any more. That was one of the things she liked about Lou, her interest in the world around her. But Ali’s friends saw her as a professional mistress – serially monogamous with other women’s husbands. And not all (if any) of them approved or thought it as amusing as they might once have done, especially not after they’d got married themselves. Then their views on marriage underwent a sudden transformation. Ali had become a threat to all they held dear. To hell with them. How gloriously gobsmacked they would be at the change in her fortunes now Ian had come along.
    Opening her eyes again, she was confronted by the on-screen flight information. The cartoon plane had barely moved since she last looked. She fiddled with the control pad, trying to switch off the image. What did she care about the temperature outside the plane right now? She wasn’t intending to experience it for herself. She looked at Lou who had pulled her blanket right over her head, now dead to the world. Ali felt her stomach contract again. Cursing quietly, she excused herself from the row once again. ‘I’m so sorry but I’m not too well.’ To say she had Delhi belly seemed a somewhat insensitive euphemism to use to a native Indian. ‘Rather than disturbing you through the night, I wonder if we could swap seats?’ Lou would be horrified, but needs must.
    â€˜If you think that would be better for you. Of course,’ he said, disentangling his headphones and gathering his possessions – a paperback, his airline toiletry bag and a bottle of water – and stood to let her past.
    â€˜I think it might.’ Propelled by a certain degree of urgency, she transferred her belongings to the outside seat, then abandoned him to make his own arrangements.
    When Ali returned, he was asleep in front of the thriller. She sat down, resigned to a long sleepless night ahead. She tuned in to an anodyne family comedy that required neither concentration nor intelligence but even so she could only think of Ian.
    He had noticed how uncomfortable she was with the way he talked about his wife, and had hugged her tighter.
    â€˜I don’t want her spoiling what we have. When I come here to your flat, I can forget everything else. I feel a different person. Do you understand that?’
    â€˜I suppose so,’ she murmured, enjoying their closeness enough to drive away her concerns. ‘But we can’t exist in this weird little bubble forever.’
    â€˜We can try.’ He began to kiss her again.
    Once again, she pulled away, this time to his tsk of annoyance. ‘Where will we live?’ she asked.
    â€˜Where?’ He let her go. ‘What’s wrong with here? I love this place.’
    â€˜So do I. But if we’re going to have a new life together then I’d like to live somewhere that’s ours. Yours and mine. A new start.’