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me he didn’t want to be with me anymore. How could he do that?” What had gotten into me? Perhaps it was the ale making me speak so openly to a stranger.
    “He did treat you badly,” Guy said, with such gentleness in his voice that it took my breath away.
    The thought of Dave’s voice on the phone, telling me it was over between us, which I had been pushing into the far back reaches of my mind, cameflooding forward, my feelings of grief and anger mixing together dangerously. The two pints of beer had unleashed the torrent.
    I leaned forward and whispered, “Nothing has turned out how I expected—all because of Dave.” I hated to say it out loud.
    “What did he do?”
    I took a deep breath. “We’d been going out for four years. He’s a plumber with his own business. Does very well and now he’s doing even better since I gave him the idea for a new kind of toilet.”
    “How does one make money with a toilet?” Guy asked.
    “It’s hard to explain, but toilets are like mousetraps: People are always looking for a better one,” I said, not wanting to get into the scatological details. “Anyway, we’ve been planning this trip for over six months, I was so looking forward to it. I thought maybe even he might give me a ring and everything, and then, right as we are leaving, really, yesterday, he dumps me.”
    “That’s a shame. And you such a nice woman.”
    “I think so. Most of the time.” My head felt abuzz from the beer and the still very raw emotions.
    He shook his head and looked straight into my eyes. “I know how you feel. Happened to me once,it did. Not a pleasant thing. And me ready to pop the question too.”
    “What did you do?”
    He took my question seriously. “I went crazy for a while, thought of getting even in some horrible way, but in my line of work one has to be careful.”
    “Caldwell—he owns the B and B I’m staying at—I don’t want him to know what happened with Dave. It’s too embarrassing. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone about it. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
    “Of course not.”
    I asked, “What is your line of work?”
    “Let’s just say I do keep company from time to time with the seedier elements of this fair city.”
    “Oh.” It felt like he didn’t want to say any more about what he did.
    Guy smiled and kept his eyes on me. “Is this awful man still back in the States?”
    “Well, no, that’s part of what’s so awful. Dave—his name is Dave Richter—is here in London. We were supposed to come here together on the plane, but he broke up with me, and I came anyway, and he did too, on the same plane.”
    “Together?”
    “No. He doesn’t know I’m here.” I had to takea deep breath to say the next part, which hurt like below-freezing air rushing into my lungs. “And the worst thing—the worst thing of all . . . I still can’t believe it.” I didn’t know if I could say it—it would make it more real.
    “What?”
    “He didn’t come alone.”
    “Really?”
    “He came with another woman.”
    “No.” He said the word like a door slamming hard. “Of all the—”
    “Yes, and she’s half his age. He’s fifty. I suppose some people would find her attractive, you know. She’s got long blond hair and she’s super thin. And she wears those shirts that don’t cover your belly button. Not appropriate travel wear, I’d say.”
    “Right,” he responded.
    “Then . . . You’re not going to believe this, but I followed them to their hotel. The Queen’s Arms. What was I thinking? What if he had seen me?”
    “We all go a bit bonkers at such a time. Go gentle on yourself.” He nodded. “The Queen’s Arms Hotel. Know the place. Not far from where I live. Bit gone to pot. Loos down the hall.”
    Not having a private bath would drive Dave wild. He didn’t even like having me share his bathroom when I stayed over.
    “So, if you had your way, what would you like to have happen to this bloke?” Guy asked.
    Talking