Morning in Dakar
He sensed she’d moved out of the room and must be in the kitchen, making coffee, as every morning. Here, in the city near the sea, their routine was fixed: rise at six, coffee, gym, shower and swim, breakfast, then work for four hours, which normally took him till about four in the afternoon. The rest of the day was a matter of mood. May be a walk in town, another swim, followed by a drink by the sea, in one of the many little bars of the harbour. Some other day it was sex, and then dinner in one of their favourite fish restaurants, under the stars.
Last night’s dreams
That morning he reflected on the last night’s dreams. Slowly he got up, put-on his lose kimono and walked to the kitchen. She was there, naked, as he liked to see her first in the day. Coffee was brewing. She came to him with the usual words, a miracle of sensuality and attachment. The dreams had taken him, and her, far away, in a world he did not recognise, but knew was, would be, had been their world. There, like here, his special talents and knowledge had made him, them, indispensable. There, like here, she was his guardian angel, his indispensable alter ego.
She asked him about the dreams, and listened, her face showing a profound attention. He told her he did not know where the planet was, and she said she would try and find out when he was asleep. They drank coffee and got ready for the gym. There, as in many other activities, she was his coach, knowledgeable, and infinitely patient. Their apartment was on top of the building, in the centre of Dakar, with magic views of the seafront and the ocean beyond. The gym was next to the large terrace, a green area she was looking after with expert skills. The bay window in the living room opened on the terrace, tropical plants and small trees grew everywhere.
Training
She put on her thin trainer shorts and bra, and helped him to his light training suit. They both did the same exercises, she effortless, on a menu Agnes prepared every day. Paul guessed that every morning she was running a health check on him, and adjusted the exercises to his metabolism. Most days they started with running twenty minutes on the treadmill, and then rowed. He loved rowing. He loved watching her row. He was fit, but he knew also he was no longer young. As for her, she was youth, and strength, a sensual athlete and lover, who looked after him.
Massage
Forty minutes in their training she stripped him naked and took him to the massage table. There was the height of each morning, when he relaxed totally, surrendering to the magic work of her fingers and palms, to her strength. She was an expert. Followed the luxurious shower. Today they would swim in the small swimming pool just on he lower floor. They were, as usual, on their own. The young African lifeguard greeted him with enthusiasm. Paul knew he worshipped Agnes, since he’d seen her exercise on the pair of rings near the pool. She led Paul for two hundred meters then had some personal training under water. As ever Paul chose not to count the minutes she was underwater.
She had breakfast ready on the terrace, fruit and bread. She said she was pleased with his progress, that she would increase the pace the following day. They joked about olympic records. After work she said she wanted to go for a walk on the shore.
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