The Affair (6 page)

It was the start of a conversation that they never seemed to finish. The day ended all too soon when James dropped her back at her little apartment on the other side of Whistler from his own. He stopped by Chateau Whistler the following day to lend her the rare early Van Morrison tape that she had been unaware existed; they caught up that night for a drink and she lent him the book by Italo Calvino she had told him about. Soon they were spending all their free time together, as easily and naturally as if it had always been that way. And all the time they talked and talked, endlessly fascinated with each other’s thoughts and way of thinking. James had never met anyone he felt so comfortable with. Nina was sharp. She challenged him, kept him on his toes. And he responded to it. He liked himself when he was with Nina.

Being a former Olympic skier had given James much public kudos but even more private angst. While it seemed to impress the majority of people he met, and James happily accepted whatever benefits went with that, in his own mind he had failed, big time. He hadn’t brought home a gold medal. He had spent years of single-minded dedication and focus only to fall short. He didn’t find what he regarded as his failure easy to accept. It was an uncomfortable paradox for him that the more lauded he was, the more he felt like a fraud. But with Nina it was different. He saw himself through her eyes and he liked the man he saw. He could respect him.

It was inevitable they would become lovers. The tight-knit community of Whistler assumed it had happened weeks before it actually did. But Nina preferred to take it very slowly. Unlike the rest of the hormone-driven young staff working a season at the international ski resort, she didn’t see sex as sport. It had to be special or she wasn’t interested. James had not been celibate for so long in years. And he was surprised to find he didn’t mind at all. He just wanted to be with her.

When finally it happened it was explosive for them both. The desire had been building for so long that once unleashed it erupted in an uncontrollable fury. At that first instant of naked skin against naked skin they both became delirious, pushing and yielding, trying to absorb the very essence of each other.

It was erotic, carnal, primal and thrilling. Afterwards they lay side by side, in awe, looking
into each other’s eyes, feeling compelled to touch and stay entwined. Their gentle caresses enflamed their passion again and soon they were reaching hungrily for each other, desire building and exhausting itself, then building again, in one long continuous wave that lasted all night.

The next day Nina should have been exhausted. She wasn’t. She was exhilarated, full of energy and gaiety that rubbed off on everyone she came into contact with. James was the same. He marvelled at everything he saw. Suddenly the world was a most glorious, radiant place.

Their passion stayed at fever pitch for the next three months. They just couldn’t get enough of each other. A snatched five-minute cup of coffee was excruciating. It only fuelled their desire but they thought it was worth it just to be together for those fleeting moments.

And while it was never spoken of, it was always understood that at the end of the season Nina would go. She would move to Toronto with her newly acquired qualifications in interior design and start her career. The money she managed to save from her winter role would keep her going till she found a job.

But her plans hadn’t taken into account falling in love.

Nina and James’s farewell had been the hardest. It had been heart-wrenching, funny and frustrating. Once Nina had given back her apartment key and her suitcases were at the bus station, they had an hour left.

The outdoor bars were almost empty, a far cry from just a few weeks ago when the tables had been filled with holidaymakers, laughing and chatting and stomping about in their heavy ski boots after a day on the slopes. Lit braziers kept the chill at bay, turning the outdoor areas into cosy beer gardens. The braziers weren’t lit now and the sun had set but, wanting privacy, James and Nina chose a seat outside in the forecourt of a trendy bar-café.

They stared at each other, hands entwined, saying silly things. They both knew how the other felt. Words wouldn’t make it any easier. And yet they were engrossed in each other. James stroked Nina’s hand, turning it over in his own, tenderly tracing the lines on her palm. Nina watched him. She admired again the thick black hair that felt so springy to her touch, the tiny lines around his eyes from time spent in harsh sunlight on the slopes.

When the waitress brought their order she stopped for a chat. James and Nina didn’t feel like sharing each other and responded politely enough, hoping she would soon leave them alone.

‘I leave on tonight’s bus,’ Nina blurted out finally.

‘Oh, you probably want to be alone?’ she smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry.’

No sooner had she gone than a young professional couple from Vancouver spotted James and made their way to him. It was like the world was conspiring to interrupt this most poignant of moments.

‘Maaaate,’ said the man, mimicking the Australian accent.

Luc and his Singapore-born wife Jin were two of James’s personal clients who paid a fortune for the privilege of spending an afternoon heli-skiing with the Olympic champion. James introduced Nina as Luc leaned against the low fence separating the two couples. He was obviously settling in for a chat. For a few minutes Nina followed the conversation about some dotcom millionaire she had never heard of, all the while looking at her watch and feeling helpless as her last minutes with James ticked away. Then she excused herself and disappeared into the café. She visited the washroom and rushed outside to James.

‘Sorry, Luc,’ she said cutting across him. ‘It’s an urgent call. It’s Mr Shima. He needs to talk to James now.’

James was momentarily confused. Shima was the name of Nina’s dog who lived at home with her parents. His lips twitched but he leapt to his feet. ‘Oh, right then. I’d better go. Sorry, Luc.’

James squeezed Nina’s hand as they bolted inside the café. ‘Mr Shima, huh?’ he said, eyes twinkling.

Ignoring the telephone they paid their bill just as they were spotted by Amelia, the lively boss of the ski school, sitting at a table by the wall.

‘Over here,’ she called.

‘Can’t stop,’ Nina called back, dragging James out the door. ‘Late already.’

Then giggling and feeling like naughty children in hiding they had walked slowly, arm-in-arm, to the bus station, not wanting to arrive. Along the
way they ducked into doorways and behind lampposts, trying to evade clients, locals and guests.

James watched as the driver put the suitcases inside the hold of the Greyhound bus. Other people milled about, waiting to board or seeing someone off.

‘Sorry, folks, we’ll be another ten minutes,’ said the driver.

Nina felt the lump rising in her throat. This was so hard. James’s hand was familiar and reassuring, holding her own. She wondered how she would ever be able to let it go. She knew she would have to very soon. When she did she wanted to be somewhere private, not in this public, sanitised street. She wanted to fling her arms about his neck and draw his face down to hers that one last time.

A voice boomed behind them. It was Wayne, a mountain of a man and another of James’s clients. He was friendly and affable. Nina and James had enjoyed dinner with him a few times. He grinned at them both.

‘You’re off tonight then?’ he asked Nina.

‘Yes,’ she replied in a small voice.

‘Well, just as well I caught you.’ With that he enveloped her in a smothering bear hug. He smelt of woody aftershave and pine needles. Nina hugged him back.

Then Wayne launched into a new business proposition he had for James while Nina felt the panic rise inside her. She looked at James, willing him to do something, but he looked back helplessly. He couldn’t get a word in.

Nina was tired of being polite. She excused herself and disappeared up a side alley. When she had gone far enough down it that she was sure only James could see her, she undid her parka, lifted her jumper and pranced about. At first James’s expression was incredulous, then he had trouble holding back his laughter. Next thing Nina knew, he was in front of her, lifting her off the ground and covering the top of her head with kisses. They embraced, holding onto each other with a desperate intensity.

‘Bus to Vancouver, now leaving,’ boomed the voice of the driver. ‘All aboard.’

Nina felt the tears beginning to well. She couldn’t speak. James led her to the bus. He squeezed her hand and she bounded up the stairs. Quickly. Without looking back.

James stood at the curb, waiting for her to reappear. She sat halfway down the bus, peering at him through the darkened glass windows. She gave a forlorn little wave. James stood mutely, unable to wave back. The last few passengers climbed aboard and James felt the loneliness roll over him.

She couldn’t go.

He bounded up the steps, just as the doors were closing and bought a ticket from the bemused driver and took his seat by a grinning Nina.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m seeing you safely to your destination,’ he answered gallantly.

By the time the Greyhound pulled into the Vancouver bus station two and three-quarter hours later, James had proposed and Nina had accepted.

It wasn’t something James had planned or Nina had expected. Sitting in the darkened bus, Nina’s serious little pixie face illuminated by the occasional passing headlights and the few other passengers well out of earshot, the words came tumbling out of James’s mouth. He was trying to articulate the enormity of his feelings. Nina had become integral to his sense of wellbeing, he told her, and he needed to know that he would wake up next to her tomorrow, the week after and every day for the rest of his life.

It was like a waterfall. Once the words were out they had a momentum of their own. There was no way to take them back. Not that James wanted to. As he heard himself say them, it felt right. This was what he wanted.

Nina was astounded. He spoke with such conviction and fervour that it seemed his love for her was solid and almost tangible, quivering in the air, enveloping her. She felt humbled and honoured.

They spent the night at a Vancouver hotel and the next morning James returned alone to Whistler shocked, elated and with a vague plan for the future that started with packing up his life and heading back to Australia.

The ski world was no place for them to start married life, he reasoned. Nina deserved so much more than that. Suddenly he felt very responsible. The future was about more than just the next winter season. It was about building a life together, one day starting a family. The very thought of it brought out all the traditional ideals of his own
upbringing that he had managed to submerge most of the time. Sitting beside Nina on the bus, holding her hand, he had started to tell her about the waterwheel on Wilde Wines estate.

They married in Vancouver within two weeks and landed in Australia a week after that. It was all so breathlessly exciting. Before they left Canada Nina took him home to the quaint town of Eyebrow on the edge of the Saskatchewan prairies to meet her bewildered parents. Jake Lambert was not pleased. He told her it was a mistake, she was too young, and a host of other things Nina chose to ignore.

Her father couldn’t understand why they had to go to a country he knew nothing about on the other side of the world. Nina had tried to explain. The words fell out of her mouth, tumbling over each other in her excitement. She was in love with this man and would follow him to the ends of the earth, she told her unimpressed father. James had a future in his family’s wine business in Australia and she could just as easily start her new career there as in Toronto. It would be an adventure and she hoped her father would be excited for her. She stopped in midstream, suddenly aware of how she must sound. Nina hated to appear foolish or out of control in front of Jake Lambert.

Seeing the crestfallen look on her face, her father had softened slightly. ‘You will always have a home with us, always. Don’t ever forget that.’

Her mother asked if she was in love.

Nina replied, ‘The rest of my life isn’t long enough to spend with him.’

Dorothea Lambert rolled her eyes and said, ‘That’s unfortunate.’

Then she had pressed ten $100 Canadian notes into her hand and told her to keep them somewhere safe.

‘Never let on you have it, no matter how dire things become. It’s your money,’ her mother whispered.

Nina didn’t ask where her mother had got the money, how she had managed to save it. She was too shocked. Jake Lambert had always been careful with his money. As a security guard at the Royal Bank he worked hard to put Nina and her brother Larry through school and university. He disliked spending money and most evenings retreated to his shed with the latest do-it-yourself magazine to build furniture for their home. On weekends he gave his time as a volunteer firefighter and park ranger. Dorothea was kept busy with the house and the children and in her spare time was a devoted member of the Quilters’ Guild.

Nina had always believed her parents’ marriage was unshakeable and her father in control of the family finances. In an instant her mother had blown away both assumptions.

‘Don’t look so horrified, honey. I stayed, didn’t I? And all the time I could have gone. I guess in a funny kind of way that’s how I could stay, through the really tough times, knowing I had that money. It was my insurance. I think there can be nothing worse than feeling trapped. No matter how bad things were I always knew at the back of my mind
that I could go and take you kids with me and we would be okay. Of course, I never did. Your father can be a bear with a sore head at the best of times but I kind of got used to him.’ Dorothea spoke with a smile of such complicity that Nina wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt she was getting a glimpse into a private adult world where her parents were different people. It both confused and touched her. She didn’t trust herself to speak. There was a huge and painful lump in her throat.

‘No matter how good things are between you and James now, promise me that this stays just between you and me. It’s our little secret. Your father never knew and there is no reason why James should ever know. But if ever things get so bad you want to come home, you will know you can.’