In truth, it was only one kiss and the embrace was chaste by lover's standards. His arm reached behind her at one point and lightly rested between her shoulder blades. Her hands were on his waist outside his jacket. It was a first kiss and both held back. Several people passed and gave them not a single glance.

Then they were sitting apart, not touching, both breathing deeply.

"How was it for you?", she said impishly, pushing her hair back from smiling eyes to view him better.

"It was good for me!"

His roar of laughter was sudden and loud. "The best kiss I've had for years", he said, "but when do we remember we're married".

"About now I suppose", she replied wistfully. "But what a delicious little memory".

"When the children are difficult or my husband is forgetful and I wonder when the fun in my life is going to start, I'll remember my Hyde Park birthday kiss."



Half an hour later, the overland train rattled over the rails at Clapham Junction and her words came back in time to the sound of the wheels of the train.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, she knew her words had been true and that she would always remember that first kiss on the bench. Partly for the lie that it was her birthday but also for the new and unpleasant sensation of kissing a man on the lips that she hardly knew and for whom she felt no attraction.

By the time her train drew into her home station, she had re-examined all her options and concluded that it would take a lot more than just one kiss to achieve her purpose.



Two weeks later, Sarah threaded her way past the perfume street trader, heading towards the Marble Arch tube. It was five o'clock in the afternoon and Oxford Street was humming with pedestrians in full flight, dodging in and out of each other's paths. Cars and buses were stuck bumper to bumper. Stores and shops brimmed full of bright desirables.

She had, for a change, just bought a new outfit. It was suitable for the office but the bright turquoise colour was also delicately feminine. She didn't often use Marble Arch station but it was close to hand and she wondered if she might bump into Peter.

He saw her first and his jovial voice boomed out over the noise of the traffic.

"Whoa what have we got here - a little lady hot foot from the shops." She turned to survey him and was surprised to find that he had taken off his tie and his suit jacket was hung casually over his shoulder.

"I've missed seeing you in the Park over the last few days", he said.

"I've been avoiding it", she replied, then, looking guilty, "I think I was a bit embarrassed that things had got a bit out of hand and you might think me a bit pushy – not that it wasn't lovely though."

Without giving him a chance to reply, she changed the subject.

"It isn't often I see you with your tie off. Are you going somewhere interesting?"

He smiled hesitantly. "I'm off to the 'Bar D'Artiste off the Brompton Road - I read in the paper that Wednesday is a sort of club evening with performers from the floor. I thought it might be something different."

"It doesn't sound much like your sort of place", she said, scrutinising him quizzically.

He looked embarrassed but then took the plunge. "Well I thought I could try something different and - I also thought it might be the sort of place you might like ... and, well, perhaps we could go and have a look together."