Another Country by Anjali Joseph

Another Country by Anjali Joseph

Author:Anjali Joseph
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers


For about three days and four nights Leela dwelt in a romantic-sexual haze. She had experienced this numerous times, with objects that had included boys at school, Robert Redford in Out of Africa, an unattractive occasional tutor at university, men on the tube. Now she dreamt of Roger, who in the daydreams had come increasingly to resemble Alfred Molina – an actor, she discovered – because she couldn’t remember how Roger actually looked. He was tall, a bit paunchy, dark, and pretty hairy, she remembered that much. His hairy wrists and dark eyes now became an erotic focus. Roger – strange name – was no doubt passionately artistic. The sex was amazing. The intensity of their bond was extraordinary. She imagined a misunderstanding that briefly separated them, and led to an even more passionate reunion.

It passed the train journey, when she sat soporifically staring at misty, rain-dampened outer-city fields and miserable horses. It passed the moments when she reviewed the next quarter’s editorial budget in an Excel sheet for each title. It nearly passed the horrid cups of coffee either from the Klix machine on their floor, or from the building’s cafeteria on the third floor, where of a morning she went to get a drink and examine the oleaginous bacon rolls.

She mentioned it to Richard, wondering why he didn’t see into her thoughts and discern the obvious interest. ‘I met Roger, remember, the guy from Christian and Elisa’s wedding? The one who was on his own?’

‘The guy with the beard?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh, really,’ Richard said. He didn’t lift his head from the magazine; he continued to read, massaging his earlobe. ‘Where did you meet him?’

‘At the printers. We went to check on the January issues, you know, sign the pages off.’

‘Oh, okay.’

‘Yeah, they sometimes have last-minute changes. Judy went to look at everything again, and I went as well, partly in case they needed someone from edit, you know, to change stuff.’

‘Mm?’

‘Yeah, so we bumped into him there.’

‘What was he doing there?’ He was still reading.

‘No idea,’ Leela said. It bothered her. Why hadn’t she found out?

‘Oh yeah, now I remember. He owns that furniture business, doesn’t he?’

‘Does he?’

‘Yeah, quirky upholstered chairs or something. He has a thing, in west London somewhere. Notting Hill, somewhere like that.’

‘Oh, okay. So why the printers?’

‘Catalogue?’

There was a silence. Richard broke out, with a resurgence of passion, ‘Prospect is so well edited. It’s such a great magazine!’



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