I had to admit that she was pretty! Much prettier than I expected her to be actually; considering whom she was married to, that is.

She must have instantly seen the red rose in my lapel as she entered the hotel bar, and came directly over to perch herself on the stool beside me.

"Hi, been waiting long?" she asked, with a confident smile.

"Er, well, a few minutes," I replied. I didn't want her to think I was too ... er, eager.

She ordered a large scotch on the rocks from the barman, who'd come over as she'd been climbing onto the tall stool. I paid for it!

"You don't have to," she'd said.

"I wouldn't feel right if I didn't," I replied.

Then we both sat in silence for what seemed to me to be a very long time.

"Well are we going to do this or not?" she eventually asked.

"Y-yeah, whenever you're ready," I replied nervously.

I'd never done anything like this before and the fact that I was a novice at this kind of thing must have been showing. Knocking her scotch back like an old soldier, she slid off the barstool and took hold of my arm, then gently guided me from the bar out into the hotel foyer.

I must admit that I felt somewhat proud, that I had such a beautiful stranger hanging on my arm in a public place. Look, I ain't no god's gift to the females of this planet and I'm the first to admit it, mind you, I ain't no Quasimodo neither.

Crossing the expanse to the lifts, I noted that she seemed to momentarily lose her balance, then, inexplicably, she all but collapsed against the lift wall as the doors closed.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"A little too much Dutch courage I think. I should have made that last one something that doesn't have a kick behind it."

"You're pissed, aren't you?"

"You could say that! Double pissed really, from the alcohol I've consumed today, and pissed-off with what that arsehole has been doing for the last six months."

"Six months?" I mused to myself, had I been completely blind?

We were out of the lift by then, and making our way along the corridor to the specific room we'd pre-booked.

"I'm not so sure that this is a very good idea, if you're not fully in command of your faculties." I said as I put the card into the slot on the hotel room door.

"Shit, Donald. If I was fully in command of my faculties, I wouldn't bloody-well be here. I'd be out at the house loading one of his damned shotguns ready for the bastard to arrive home again. I've only got through these last few weeks by staying drunk most of the time."

Then she staggered across the room and collapsed onto the bed in a heap.

I had some difficulty equating the woman who'd so confidently walked into the hotel bar just a short time before, with the inert figure lying on the bed. Honestly, I'd never seen anyone go from apparently stone cold sober, to completely legless in such a short period of time.

"Are you going to do me now?" she slurred, as I swung her legs up onto the bed to make her comfortable.

"Oh yeah!" I thought to myself, "Screwing non compos mentis females is my favourite parlour trick!"

Once I was sure she was completely out of it, I made a couple of minor adjustments to her clothing to ensure that she'd be comfortable during the night, then gently rolled her into the recovery position for safety's sake.

Then, taking a soft drink from the mini bar, I settled into the one comfy chair in the room to watch over her, and wait.

I wasn't sure which would come first, the woman recovering consciousness, or my wife and her lover exiting the room on the opposite side of the corridor. I wasn't at all sure that I wanted to be there any more anyway.

But I was kind of trapped in that hotel room whether I liked the idea or not. I daren't leave her because she might well vomit and choke to death. I had no idea how much, or what she'd drunk earlier in the evening, and I'd been the last person seen with her. Consequently all eyes would be on me, if anything untoward happened to her.

And yet, I wasn't sure I wanted to take on the confrontation with my wife -- and her lover -- in such a public place as a hotel, on my own.

The hours passed slowly with not a sound coming from the room opposite -- I'd propped the door open so I could see and hear -- and with only a faint snoring rising, now and again, from the inert figure lying on the bed.

More than the odd other occasional hotel guest, looked in on us through the open door, as they made their way to their own rooms; confusion clearly visible on their faces.

Around seven-thirty in the morning, the woman made strange noise. When I looked, she was sitting up on the bed, staring back at me.

Then she looked down at her somewhat dishevelled clothing.

"You ... we didn't, did we?" she asked reaching down and touching her hip.

I do believe to make sure that her knickers were still there.

"No, but I did loosen a button on the top of your dress and remove your shoes. It's not my habit to molest comatose females." I replied with a smile.