a look into the wishing well part 2

Three weeks went by and still no word from Pierre. I had become depressed and I did not take care of my appearance or care too much if I ate or not.

My husband once asked what happened with your French lessons?

I told him I was taking a break!

I was not one for sleeping late but these days I woke up midday!

My maid, who was wise beyond her appearance and not one to judge - especially the affairs of the heart, looked on .

"Madame, I know nothing of French or school. But I know of life and when something or someone means something. And that something makes a difference in your life..you must find it..that way you will feel better."

One afternoon, decided to do something about it. It had been a month and nothing. This was not like Pierre. 

I dressed in tight fitting jeans, a loose fitting blouse of a beautiful yellow colour. 

I wore some sandals and got on my scooter, which I had not ridden in years. 

I had an idea where Pierre lived. I knew of the backpacker's hostels and I knew he lived in the much better off ones because he made quite a bit of money from his teaching jobs. Certainly I was not his only student. 

On getting to the reception I asked the gentleman there if he knew Pierre. He had a surprised look, like I spoke a foreign language.

Fortunately, there was a guy who told me he had been Pierre's  room mate but Pierre about four weeks ago had cancelled all his lessons, cut his visa short and returned to Paris.

I tried to ask the guy if Pierre had said why he was leaving..

'No madam!'

For second time my heart sunk. What did I expect? I felt weak. I felt shattered. 

His stories, his life had brightened my days. I opened up, not just my mind but my heart and my stories...

I was not so cold any more - I laughed a lot more. This was because of Pierre...

I sat down in the park and just wondered what next? 

I needed time to compose myself as I was in tears now. I must get over Pierre. 

I was a dutiful wife to my husband but it seems I had fallen in love with Pierre or so I thought..

I remembered one of his risqué stories about him and his girlfriend in a clothes store in central Paris. 

He had not wanted to go into detail but strangely I was the one who wanted to hear more. 

I would say how naughty of you Pierre as it got more and more intimate and passionate. He would say let me not go any further and I would say do go further!

Pierre said, ' Olive you only want to hear more maybe because you want your husband to do the same..."

I had  laughed..because somehow I knew he was correct. I wanted to break free from the boredom. Do something risky and fun. 

I smiled a little when I remembered him say he had to pull out quickly because he did use any protection and his aim was bad and he splashed the mirror in the change room..

I laughed to myself in the park. Wiped the tears from my eyes and went home

I must get over him now. 

Five months passed. I had not opened a single French book. I did not want to remember. One day I was cleaning my study room and I smelt his beautiful scent. The smell of the sea. Where was it coming from? 

On the last page we had studied he had left a piece of fabric heavily infused with the perfume. He had given me a nice smelling bookmark. I paused and just the smell brought back a thousand memories. 

Two weeks to the day, my maid was bringing me afternoon tea and she came with a small blue envelope. It had a beautiful handwriting which I instantly recognised. The stamp was Switzerland. I quickly tore it open and started to read it.

"Dear Olive,

It has been quite the few months and I hope that you are well. 

Firstly I must apologise for leaving the way I did and I am sorry that I never saw through my contract. It was not professional of me and I do not hesitate to apologise. 

You will see I have enclosed an international bankers draft for all the lessons you paid for. You should not have to pay for half a job done. 

I know you love the French language and you were doing so well I hope that you found someone to replace me when I left. 

Now I am in Switzerland. I came for the skiing and also just to get time alone to think..

So when I left. I did not leave the country straight away. I went to Bali. Next I went to Malaysia before flying back to France. 

I think you know why I had to leave. My feelings for you got to strong. And you and I could see where it was going. 

We did not shake hands when we met. We hugged and our hugs were long. 

I felt you deep inside. I am sorry for the kiss but I think you know better the kiss than the more I could have done with you? Olive you would not have resisted me.

When I came back to Paris I missed you terribly. When I closed my eyes you were the vision I saw. The last time I had a wet dream was when I was a teenager but it recently happened again and the Lady in that dream was you. 

I have tried to forget you but it is proving difficult. But I must. I know you love your husband. 

I am sorry again. You do not have to reply but I enclose my Paris address, where I will return to in a few days 

Love 

Pierre.

I was motionless for a while. It had taken six months to hear anything from him.

'Why should I write? No! I hate him. I love my husband and I will not waste my time with that fool' I thought to myself 

I put the letter in my side drawer and carried on as though nothing happened. 

Late at night I woke up and read his letter not once but four times. 

I caved...

Dear Pierre,

I hate you, I would scratch your face and pull your hair and punch you. 

I don't know why I am replying you anyway but I have lost my mind. You made me go mad. 

I wish you were close by so that I could send someone to deal with you and beat you up.. I am angry with you.  

You know how I felt and you left me high and dry. It took me a while to get myself together. Now I am OK. I love my husband. You are correct. Yes you know we had our problems. But he didn't run away like you.

So don't write to me again. I don't want to hear from you. STAY AWAY.

Olive

The letter was posted. I didn't realise how much all those 'I hate you' meant exactly the opposite of what I meant. 

Nothing had changed between my husband and I. We continued to live separate lives in the same house. 

I would not be surprised if he had already taken another wife without even telling me. Or may be he had other girlfriends.  That's OK..as long as I didn't know. I just carried on. 

I was reading more. I had taken up running and swimming. We had a 25m pool and a gym on our estate. 

On the treadmill I would put on my playlist of rap and hip hop music.  It energised me. Forty minutes and I would run 7km 

I got better and better. 

Dear Pierre,

By now you should have got my first letter. 

How are you? 

I am a passionate woman. You were lucky that my arms don't stretch for thousands of kilometres or else I would have been scratching and biting you :)

Whatever happened next would be you of course.

I wish you had not left the way you did. We could have talked about it, like we did everything else. We would have found a way to deal with it. 

Now I have to deal with the fact I miss you terribly.

I have the same dream of you and I wake up sweating... You give me a baby..always I dream you give me a baby. I sweat because I know my husband cannot have children, if he could we would have one now. 

My dream does not end well. When the baby is born he neither looks like my husband nor me. He looks very European. By this time you have left and my husband instead of leaving me takes my baby From me...every time the dream ends here...

Pierre I miss you much. I know you have your many girlfriends... But tell me you think of me? It would make me smile. Tell me when you make love and close your eyes, it is me you see?

Please write to me soon 

Love 

Olive

To be cont...