Tupperware Sky in Flaming June

The dogs are urging me to boot up and set out over the hills. When she is away they are more alert. Impatient at times. The sky looks solid grey and I’m pondering excuses not to venture out. It will be damp and the ground heavier.
However, Bernard’s large brown eyes, full of innocent longing, are usually enough.

To Catalunya on Sunday. Less cloud the further south we go.

On Monday I had lunch with Mariane. She and my father had a long affair, some 30 years. From when he was in his mid-forties right up until his death. I had known about her, everyone knew, tacitly.
My mother knew. She still talks about Mariane occasionally, they met from time to time at work functions. Mariane was some 15 years younger than my dad, I peg her at about 70. She looks pretty good for it. Mind you, how quickly those years spin away after three score and ten.
We talked about my dad, how much she had loved him. What she loved about him. It was interesting to note how much she knew about us all, my sister and I and all the grandchildren. She knew all their names, they had obviously been very close. She was animated by talking about him, especially I suppose, over lunch with me. There is a pronounced physical likeness between my dad, she remarked on it immediately.

I sent her an email, about a year ago. I had always known about the affair, but never discussed it with my dad. I did mention her name once, but he brushed it away, embarrassed and uncomfortable. Perhaps he was afraid of being judged severely. Or just weary of another emotional confrontation, anyway I dropped it.
In my email to Mariane I tried to say - just that I know how important she was to him, that he cared for very much. I wondered how she carried the grief. How she found out? His death was so sudden. She said she was so moved to receive that email, that he (more than her) wouldn’t be judged harshly.
Perhaps being invited by a member of his family, as the ‘other woman’ she would never have shared in any public celebrations, never even be introduced or recognised, let alone liked.

We talked for a good couple of hours, then dashed off to beat the traffic wardens. She emailed me to thank me for lunch, could we do it again sometime? I daresay we will. It was interesting to talk with her about Dad, see him through her eyes.

The dogs are jostling for my attention. To the fields to blow away the clouds.