Under the Channel. Gilles Pétel

arm in a manner she had found threatening, though he hadn’t meant it that way.

      ‘I was knackered. It was the end of a long day. I just needed a hug.’

      Juliette conceded she had overreacted to what was after all just one false move. Then they had gone further back into their shared history, admitting other mistakes they had each made, things they had forgotten, and reliving the high points too. They had always been there for each other. The children had come along. Their two darlings. A stroke of luck? ‘Love,’ said Juliette. Shit, yes, the children. The babysitter was booked until midnight. Juliette checked her watch. They had just under half an hour to get back to the twentieth arrondissement. She thought she ought to warn the girl, ‘We might be a little late.’ Meanwhile Roland settled the bill, glancing at his mobile phone. His deputy had sent him a message.

      ‘Busy night. Messy situation, but we’re handling it. Would rather be in a restaurant. Samy.’

      Intrigued, Roland was about to call him when the waiter arrived to tell them their taxi had just pulled up outside.

      *

      The sex toy lay dormant inside its hard, transparent plastic case. Under the bed, it waited to be turned on and sent into sweaty battle. It seemed to have a life of its own, like a kind of mythical creature. Roland hadn’t known where else to hide the thing, which embarrassed and fascinated him in equal measure.

      Meanwhile Juliette was busy thanking the babysitter and offering her an hour’s extra pay for the additional ten minutes’ work their late return had caused her. As he listened to his wife, full of admiration for her good nature, Roland wondered how best to present her with his find. Was it something that needed to be talked about first, or should he just grab it on the spur of the moment? He couldn’t help smiling. The toy, a simple vibrator, had turned him on in the shop, but now he wasn’t so sure. He probably should have put it back on the shelf with all the other oddities, but Roland had decided to go through with it. ‘What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll get a slap or she’ll laugh in my face. Otherwise, I’ll never know. My own wife is a mystery to me. What does she like? This filthy thing’s making me hard. Why doesn’t she do that to me?’

      ‘I’ll go and check on the children,’ he told Juliette, slipping out of the room.

      The sex toy hadn’t moved an inch. It was sitting quietly under the bed, exactly where Roland had left it several hours earlier. ‘I’m an idiot,’ he told himself, carefully taking it into his hands. He could hear snippets of the conversation going on at the other end of the corridor. The two women were still talking. Roland took the toy out of its packaging and looked at it closely. It was cold and hard, not very pretty, merely suggestive. The appliance was battery-operated. Luckily the woman on the till had pointed this out to Roland. The thing didn’t just vibrate of its own accord. ‘Can’t go expecting miracles,’ he was thinking as he listened to her. How had she come to this career? She handled the gadgets on offer in her shop with the professional air of a saleswoman at Galeries Lafayette. It wasn’t very hard to figure out. Roland inserted the four batteries into the back of the vibrator and tested it. Vrrr… Vrrr… It worked just fine; it purred. Soon it would pounce. An image flashed through Roland’s mind as he let his hand stroke up and down the toy. ‘It’s powered by the thunder of God,’ he said to himself, a sizeable erection straining the fabric of his trousers. At the sound of the front door opening, he put the vibrator back under the bed, ready for use. As he walked back into the living room, he was imagining making Juliette come with the sex toy. Tonight, he was determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure.

      She was on edge. She had barely closed the door on the babysitter when Roland was all over her, kissing her full on the mouth before she had time to draw breath.

      ‘What about the children?’ she said, freeing herself from his grasp.

      ‘They’re fast asleep.’

      Roland was already wrapping his arms back around Juliette, unbuttoning her blouse, grasping at her breasts so he could finally press his skin against hers. It was all a bit much for Juliette. She needed another drink before she could let herself go. They hadn’t had sex for a month, maybe longer. She pushed Roland away gently but firmly.

      ‘Not so fast,’ she said, affecting outrage to keep him on his toes.

      She wished she could remember when and where they had last done it. Not at home – she was certain of that. Roland followed her into the living room. He grabbed her like a ragdoll around the waist and ran his hands over her hips. She was on the verge of giving him a slap. She wriggled free, more forcefully this time. It was sinking in that she didn’t feel any desire for him, at least not right now or like this.