Another Sunday

By Susan Wells

One minute I was doing housework, the next minute I was flying down the freeway on the back of a Harley Davidson. Well anyway, that’s the way it seems now …

The weekend had been uneventful. It was Sunday and I had been down to buy the papers, collect some groceries and then walk back to my apartment. The winter air had been crisp and clean and the water in the harbour sparkled in the June sunlight. There had been no response to emails or messages I had sent to the several people I had contacted in the previous few days. I settled in for a day of domestic duties and a bit of reading, changing into a sweater and tracksuit pants. Then, a message arrived.

Meet today? Pick you up? Time?

I returned the message quickly. This was one I didn’t want to ignore.

One hour later I caught the lift downstairs to meet him, hurrying towards the figure decked out  in leathers standing in the lobby. Still sure of himself, I thought. He took my hand and looked carefully at me.

“You still look good in jeans.”

“And you in leathers.” I stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

We made our way to the door and out to the bike parked out the front.   

We rode out to Williamstown to a restaurant along the Esplanade. We sat outside at a small table on the pavement.  Throngs of people passed by, as always on a nice day, a parade along the strip.

I walked inside the restaurant to find a menu as waiters seemed scarce. On the way back I glanced through the large windows to see a woman in red standing at our table. She seemed to be leaning slightly towards him to talk. By the time I had made my way out through the door she had disappeared into the crowd.

He was looking at the menu in his hand as I sat down. I watched him and noticed he looked slightly shaken. It was a few minutes before we spoke again.  We chatted about our respective lives and both decided we should catch up again soon.

Here was a man I had not seen for a few years. I pondered over what could have happened in that time and my curiosity had been sparked by the appearance of the woman.

Just who was the mystery woman in red and where had she come from?