Lunchtime Assignation

My glass sat mostly empty on the table. He'd put too much lime in but I'd drunk it anyway. And I should have told him the glass was dirty. I wasn't in the best of moods. Thought this was a thankless task. I'd told Ivor Harris I didn't want descriptions but he'd gone ahead anyway. He'd even thrust photos at me. Should have said no there and then but there was something about this story that appealed to me.

It was a cold Friday. Winter had bitten back. We'd had snow on the Tuesday. It was nearly half past twelve and I was about to give up when .......
A sudden blast of cold air. The woman preceded the man who was obviously holding the door open for her. This looked interesting! As they approached the bar her eyes were frantically scanning the other tables. She looked to be squinting. Wouldn't recognise anyone then. I reckon she'd done several tours of the sparsely populated room. He ordered and paid for the drinks, though he had to ask her twice what she wanted. Lip reading is a vital skill in my line of work. She had what looked like whisky, he had Coke. He was driving and she needed Dutch courage. It looked like the first time they'd been in together. She matched Ivor's description. He didn't.
He started to go towards a table but she called him back. They went to one by the open fire. Visible from where I was sitting. The woman's eyes were still searching the room. Every time she looked at him a natural smile, emanating from deep inside forced its way through the mask her face had become. He was oblivious to everything and everyone but her. He didn't exactly look frustrated with her behaviour, more like he was reading from a prepared script.
There weren't any silent moments between them. She finished her drink in five minutes but didn't have another. Instead he poured some of his into her glass. Every time the door opened, or there was movement, she would be distracted. He never wavered, looking at her all the time. She was from this area. He wasn't.
There was nothing physical between them at all. This seemed a very civilised way to conduct an affair, almost "Brief Encounter" like. As soon as their eyes met their faces changed. They weren't motivated by sexual desire, they looked like they were falling in love. They were playing just as dangerous a game, maybe more dangerous, as if they had been all over each other. When he got up to leave he opened the door for her. I followed them out. He opened the passenger door for her. Something about him seemed familiar.
One week later I went back. Ten minutes after my arrival they entered, had the same drinks at the same table. Now I knew who he was.
This report would give me problems..