At 8 pm Tracy and David are in another Chinese restaurant not too far from the university where David teaches. Tracy had arrived at David’s flat at 6 pm and waited in his tastefully furnished living room till he finished his evening lecture at 7. After serving her a hamburger and a glass of water, David put a bottle of wine beside his lover. He then dashed out for his lecture. It was not Tracy’s first time in David’s flat. Still, she felt slightly uneasy at being left alone in it. She has the feeling she is being watched by a presence that regards her as an intruder. She really has no appetite and goes to drop the half-eaten burger in the trash can. She comes back to her seat, took a sip of water and throws the remainder in the wash-hand basin in the neat kitchen. She uncorks the wine and pours herself a generous drink. She takes a long draught and grins. She is not surprised that the wine is non-alcoholic. David, contrary to his head-spinning looks and modern mannerism is one anachronistic teetotaller. Tracy swears to herself to unearth the story behind his strange abstinence. She is certain he was a drinker not too long ago, like all normal American males.

She puts down the glass cup and begins to look around. Even though she would not admit it to herself, she is really searching for any sign of female presence in the flat. She finds none and goes back to her seat slightly bemused. An album is on the glass cabinet holding the music system. For want of better things to do, she had picked it up and leafs through it, still searching unconsciously for any female figure in intimate pose with her lover. Again, she finds none, although there are several pictures of David and many people who appear to be his colleagues and students. It is as if David never had a girlfriend all his life before meeting her. Or…or could it be that David has cleaned his flat of any such female presence? Tracy finds the thought seductive and mentally considers at it for a while. This could explain her feeling of disquiet when alone in the flat, as if an invisible female presence is checking her out. She is glad when David returns and both pile into his car and head for the restaurant.

All through the meal, Tracy regards David with a quizzical look. He soon notices and asks:

“Why are you looking at me like that, Trace?”

“Shoot straight, Dave. Have you or haven’t you ever had a girl, a lover before me?”

David is taken aback by the question and puts down his cutlery before answering.

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“Any one serious?”

David does not answer immediately but it is obvious to Tracy that she is touching a raw nerve here. She backs off immediately.

“You don’t have to answer, Dave. It’s an unfair question, I know.”

“It’s okay, Trace,” Dave murmurs, picking up his cutlery and attacking his food with unusual ferocity. Tracy skilfully steers the conversation away from the troubling topic, and soon both are laughing gaily. Around ten, both head to the cinema to watch an interesting film about the travails and eventual triumph of two lovers from different cultures. All through the film, Tracy and David hold their hands and kiss every time the screen fades to black. The film finishes around midnight and Dave drives Tracy back to her flat.

”Will you like to come up for a night cap, Dave?”

“Not tonight, Trace. I’ll take a rain check.”

Tracy looks at him with hooding eyes. “Are you still mad at me, my love?”

“Certainly not!” says Dave, giving her a peck. “Shall we see tomorrow?”

“Okay. What time?”

“I’ll call. I need to check my timetable.”

“By now, you should have your timetable in your head.”

“I did. A stunning goddess named Trace blew it all away.”

“Flatterer!” She pecks him and gets out of the car. “See you tomorrow then. Bye.”

“Bye, my love. Sweet dreams.”

He drives off and Tracy looks at the receding car with undisguised longing. She sighs and goes into her block of flats. As soon as she enters her apartment, she bangs her door shut and peels off her dress angrily. In her slips and bra, she goes to examine herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She turns this way and that, that way and this, observing her tantalising figure with a critical eye.

“Not tonight, Trace. I’ll take a rain check.” Dave’s voice echoes in her mind.

“That’s the second time. Am I losing my sex appeal?”

Tracy stomps into the bathroom, showers and goes to lie on her bed, naked beneath her bathrobe and wishing David were with her. She eventually falls asleep.

***

On his bed, David is rolling from left to right, right to left, finding it difficult to fall sleep. Tracy’s voice keeps ringing in his head:

“Shoot straight, Dave. Have you or haven’t you ever had a girl, a lover before me?”

What made her ask such a question? he wonders. Am I behaving unlike a normal, average American male? If that were so, in what way? We chat a lot. We laugh together. We dance and comb the beach together. We even kiss and cuddle. What else is a healthy full-blooded American male expected to do that I’ve not done with Trace?

“Will you like to come up for a night cap, Dave?”

“Not tonight, Trace. I’ll take a rain check.”

The conversation replays itself automatically in his mind and David gets up with a start.

“That’s it! By now a healthy full-blooded American male would have made love to Trace or attempt to. But how can I? After what happened how can I? They look alike to me. Any time I see Trace, I see her and all desire for sex simply vanish from my mind. God! It’s been so long and still so fresh…”

He reaches underneath his bed and brings out a small travelling box. Opening it, he brings out a large brown envelope filled with documents. Among them is a smaller white envelope. He takes it out and extracts a medium-sized picture from it. It is the photograph of a very pretty blond lady in her thirties, smiling broadly into the camera lens. A halo of joy and vitality seems to ensconce her head, giving her a saintly appearance. In an uncanny way, she looks like Tracy, but without the latter’s military starchiness and air of unrelenting wariness that still cling to her even in civilian life. It has been a long time, more than a year since he last looked at her picture. He stares at the pretty lady for a long time, until his tears begin to drop on the picture, threatening to deface it. He then slumps on the bed, weeping silently.