A waitress held the door open for them, and Henry stared up at her as he was wheeled through. Did she recognise him? Did she remember him from the last time he had been here?
She smiled at him and walked away. Evidently not, then. He looked around the restaurant. It hadn’t changed much since he’d last been here- the same warm red and gold décor, the same smart uniforms on the waiters and waitresses, the same sparkling table settings. They had apparently maintained their standards.
He smiled to himself. Those standards were what had got him thrown out last time. He probably should have known better than to bring his mistress to his wife’s favourite restaurant, but it was that danger that had thrilled him. The greater the chance of getting caught, the greater the excitement. The fact that his mistress was ten years younger than Diane was almost irrelevant. He smiled as he remembered Charlotte’s sensual curves; almost irrelevant, but not entirely.
Still, he hadn’t quite expected Diane to cause that kind of scene. She had thrown a glass of wine at him- red wine, too, which had completely ruined a perfectly good suit. By the time the waiters had thrown them out, there was food everywhere and he was trying to wrestle a steak knife out of Charlotte’s hand.
He grimaced as his food was placed in front of him. It was a bowl of mushy, gooey stuff, and a plastic spoon to eat it with. He pushed it away in disgust. He wanted a steak; a nice, juicy steak, and proper cutlery to eat it with.
His mother pulled her seat closer to the high chair, moved the bowl closer and picked up the spoon. “Now, Henry, be a good boy,” she said, adjusting the bib around her baby’s neck.
Henry pushed the food away again with one chubby hand. He didn’t want it- he was busy remembering steak.
© Kari Fay