The Affair

Ludlow was swimming through the darkness, arms and legs kicking out to the beat of Rearview Mirror, the Pearl Jam song he had been listening to before he put his hand in the toaster. The air was charged with more than just the music, though. It felt like someone — God? — was thinking really hard, or maybe it felt like a hundred silent screams.

Just when he thought the music was about to climax he fell through an invisible hole in the blackness and landed with a muffled crash on the kitchen floor. “Humph.”

Feeling for injuries and finding his body intact, he shrugged off the dizziness and scrambled to his feet. His first focused glance was aimed at the kitchen clock. Six a.m. It had worked! On tiptoe he crossed the black and white tiles, spied up the dark stairway listening a moment before heading for his bedroom.

Seeing himself asleep in the canopy bed was an unsettling feeling, but there he was, snug as a bug under the goose-down duvet, one large foot dangling out from the side of the bed.

He sighed. Sleeping next to Lilly could be unbearable at times. She gave off such suffocating heat that it could get too much even in the middle of winter, and on top of it she was a hot water bottle addict. He crawled around the bed to her side and climbed into the built-in cupboard, leaving the sliding door open just a crack. He still had half an hour to gaze at her before the alarm clock went off.

Lilly Mills was of an unusual beauty that not everyone tended to appreciate. When you looked at her, the first thing you saw was her mouth, so large, fleshy and shapely you couldn’t help wanting to bite into it. Ludlow, at least, couldn’t help it. He loved her large green eyes and her large friendly nose and her “Foxy Red” hair that curled up against her pointy chin. How could he live without her? Ever betray her? How on earth could she have believed him to be even remotely interested in that brainless twit Sheila?

Sheila, nineteen, was one of his Chemistry students. She wasn’t the first girl to have a crush on him, but she was the first to have taken it so far as to show up in places he hung out, pretending to be running into him. She had burst into Lukin’s Pub with a big “Oh, well, hi, Mr. Dorset,” in the middle of a darts game, embarrassing the living daylights out of him in front of his girlfriend and all his buddies and their girlfriends. Then, today, she had shown up at his house, her frantic doorbell ringing calling him down from the loo.

“Would show up,” he corrected himself, whispering into a mohair sweater and getting little turquoise hairs stuck to his tongue. She would show up at his house in exactly three hours and nine minutes. Lilly would be pulling into the driveway two minutes after he opened the front door, at the precise moment Sheila the little minx threw herself at him.

But this time he would be ready, even if he had to clout “Past Ludlow” over the head and shove him behind the door. Sheila was not going to hurl herself against him unexpectedly and in full view of his girlfriend, and Lilly would not go off in a screaming fit, accuse him of having an affair and leave him forever within the hour. No, no, no indeed.

* * *

The thing with the toaster had happened by accident of course, though he sometimes liked to delude himself into thinking that he, Ludlow, the great intellectual, had subconsciously planned it all. On Monday morning exactly a week ago, Lilly had already left for her studio, he had set himself up in front of the TV for a brunch of sausages, bacon and eggs. Lilly was a vegetarian, so he could only indulge in the sin of flesh eating when she was out.

Since a rerun of The Scientist was on — he had missed it the previous night because Lilly had needed to see Dracula: Love never Dies for the eleventh time — he even brought the toaster, plugging it in next to the sofa lamp. He did not give it another glance until black smoke began billowing from it.

“Shite!” He tried to pull up the lever to make the burnt toast pop out, but it was stuck. Cursing like a madman he grabbed for a smouldering piece of toast, knocking the raspberry jam onto the white fur rug in the process. There was a jolt, then blackness, and the theme music to The Scientist blasting crazily in his head.

He crashed onto the rug like a sack of potatoes and lay there in misery and confusion for several minutes. Then he heard singing coming from the kitchen. What was Lilly doing singing in the kitchen when she had left for work ages ago, who had switched off the telly, but above all else, where the heck were his sausages?

* * *

Ludlow shook his head, quietly spitting out turquoise mohairs. That first time it had taken him the entire day to figure out what had happened: sticking his hand in the toaster had given him a bizarre kind of shock, which had hurled him four full hours backwards in time. After several frustrating days of trial and error he managed to recreate the event, although the time travelled into the past tended to vary — this time it had been seven and a half hours — yet if Lilly hadn’t washed his cool long-sleeved shirt with the silver buttons, the amazing secret ingredient, he might still not have figured it out. Ludlow shook himself at the thought of losing Lilly forever.

He jumped when the radio alarm went off. Six twenty-four. He had set the alarm himself, hating to wake up to the newsperson’s voice. “Past Ludlow” stuck out another large foot and shoved back the duvet, grinning because they were playing Sympathy for the Devil, one of his favourites. He listened to it for a few moments as the sweat of another hot night dried on his forehead, then jumped up to have a shower. Lilly stayed in bed, tucked in to the chin and stubbornly keeping her eyes closed until it was officially six-thirty and the news came on. Then she yawned, rubbed her eyes and slipped out of bed.

Ludlow watched her pull on some black panties and a pair of black tights, then the thick purple cotton skirt, all of which she had prepared the night before. She paused in her ritual to gaze at herself in the mirror. To Ludlow’s astonishment she pressed her naked breasts against the glass and intensely kissed her mirror image. He must have made some sort of noise (he was trying hard not to giggle) because she startled, sent a wide-eyed look towards the bathroom and quickly finished dressing.

At seven o’clock “Past Ludlow” and Lilly sipped coffee and shared a scone with jam at the kitchen table. At a quarter past seven they kissed good bye, she shouted, “Call me later!”, the door shut and poor “Past Ludlow” believed himself alone at home.

Ludlow waited in the cupboard until his past self went to the bathroom, then he drew forth his ring of house keys. Lilly didn’t like keys, that was why they kept them all in a drawer in the kitchen. He didn’t want to be too mean to himself, so he prepared a tray with a cup of coffee, cigarettes and another buttered and jammed scone and slid it in before he locked the bathroom from the outside. Feeling very thoughtful he shoved a few Science Friction magazines under the door. To muffle “Past Ludlow’s “ angry cries, he put on a Pearl Jam concert DVD and turned up the volume.

The two remaining hours felt like a hundred years. He drank coffee and smoked cigarettes and thought about Lilly. If he managed to set everything right today he’d drive to town, buy the loveliest engagement ring and propose to her during dinner at Dolce Vita. He knew she was a secret romantic.

At nine twenty-six he was squeezed against the wall by the front door. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and pressed his hands over his beating heart. In a short time he would have his life back and “Past Ludlow” would simply vanish. Then he would tell Lilly about the time machine and together they’d have a ball with it. He imagined her face when she finally realised he wasn’t kidding, when he made her slip into one of his cool shirt’s sleeves and proved it to her. Prove that he was a genius, ha!

Ludlow heard the sound of shoes crunching through the gravel. Any moment now! But instead of the doorbell a cell phone rang.

“Yes, I’m at the door. It’s nine thirty. In five minutes exactly I’ll start kissing him, okay? Nine thirty-five you pull up. Ready? Okay, yes.”

Ludlow’s mouth had gone dry listening and he closed it with a snap of his teeth. What the f...?The doorbell rang. Paralysed, he remained where he was. It rang again and again, then came frantic knocking.

“Darn, where is he!... Miss Mills, yes uh, I think he can’t hear the doorbell, he’s got music on and — pardon? But I couldn’t just go in, that’s like — okay, okay.” She tried the doorknob, found it unlocked, and slipped inside.

Ludlow bit his lip when the door banged against his crossed arms, bouncing back a little, but she did not seem to have noticed. “I’m standing in the hall. Now what?” she said, her voice very small and mouse-like.

He peered out from behind the front door, just in time to see her turn in to the living room, the phone still glued to her ear. Ludlow tried to think, but his brain felt like toast, so he just remained standing there. Soon he heard Lilly drive up, slam her car door and rush towards the house.

Sheila came scuttling back into the hall. “Look, Miss Mills, you’re — you’re crazy, okay? I’m out.”

“What are you talking about?” Lilly said.

“You locked him in the bathroom? You’re keeping him here like an animal, it’s disgusting! No wonder he —”

There was a sharp slapping sound and Sheila cried out. “Shut up. Why would I lock him in the bathroom?” Lilly said huskily. A few seconds of silence passed and Lilly sighed. “Oh, you wimp. Here’s your money, now sod off. And in the future? Keep your eyes on pricks your own age.”

“But — hey!” Sheila made squeaky sounds of protest as she was audibly shoved towards the door.

Lilly said a very bad word Ludlow had never heard her use as she slammed the door shut. Then she realised she was standing in front of Ludlow.

“Don’t shout, Lilly,” was the only thing that came to mind.

“What — what are you doing here? I thought you were in the bathroom.”

“I am,” he said gravely.

She stared at him; he wondered whether she had also heard the anguished cry coming from the bathroom. “Past Ludlow” was using a lull in the music to scream for help. Suddenly she started giggling. “Don’t tell me, you used the time machine.”

Ludlow gaped. “H- how did you —“

“I read your diary, ox!” She crossed her arms over her head, then ruffled up her hair. “I had to know whether you were having an affair.”

“Did you, now?” he blurted. “The-then why would you pay one of my students to bloody jump me, huh? Too chicken to break up with me for the real reason?”

She twisted her skirt with both hands, slightly lifting one leg. It was her classic ‘I’m a little embarrassed now’ pose. “I wanted to scare you. Your diary’s stuffed with casual remarks about this and that chick pining for you and how you hope she’ll get over it soon, but it’s so obvious that your ego’s feeding on it! So I figured a good scare might drive that daemon out of you, you know?” She looked up at him through dark batting lashes, a blush on her cheeks.

He tried to remain severe. “So you didn’t — you don’t want to break up with me?”

She shook her head. “I knew if you really loved me you’d fight to have me back — and see? You did just that. Hiding behind the door...” she giggled behind her hand.

Ludlow smiled. He suddenly felt very warm inside. “So I passed the test?”

She beamed, strands of her fiery hair falling across her eyes. “Yes, Ludlow. I’m giving you an A.”

He wiped his cool shirt’s sleeve across his face. “Phew, that was easy. I thought I was going to have to propose and everything.” He smirked.

She gave him a look, so obviously feigning indifference that he couldn’t help chuckling. “Oh, come on, that would have been boring,” she said. “What girl would want to be called ‘wife’? It sounds so terribly old.”

He picked her up and she automatically wrapped her stockinged legs about his waist.

“Easy, lover, I have to get back to work, and you have a class in an hour.”

“I know, I know,” he opened the door and carried her towards her car, away from “Past Ludlow’s” wails. “Dinner at Dolce Vita tonight?”

She gave him a big kiss. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

“By the way, when did you plan this whole thing with Sheila?” he said.

“Last night. The silly thing goes to my gym,” Lilly said and nibbled his ear. “Did you know she wears a padded bra? The lass is flat-chested as a board...”

Ludlow grimaced. “So that would be, what — 15 hours ago?” Could he leave it to be known that his soon to be betrothed was a maniac who hired students to make out with him? No, no, no indeed. He would have to make a plan, and fast.

Monkey-like, she squeezed into a more comfortable position on his hips and put a cool hand to his forehead. “Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today, love. Stay on the sofa, watch some telly. You’ve earned it.”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “You know, you may be right. I think I’ll do just that.”

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