Page 9 of Prognosis So Done

Harriet and Gill had stayed a few days at Siobhan’s family’s farm deep in the Irish countryside five years ago, and she’d loved the earthy smell of burning peat as well. Harriet smiled fondly at the memory and it took her a few seconds to register that they were waiting for her contribution.

She glanced at Gill and quickly looked away as she met his steady grey gaze. What she missed most about home was the beachfront apartment she and Gill lived in at Bondi, and how they would make love all night and sleep till noon, then stroll along past all the cafés and eat pasta at their favourite Italian one. She missed that a lot.

‘Mangoes.’

She smiled as an unbidden memory of Gill feeding her mango in bed rose in her mind. He had trailed the seed over her breasts and then thoroughly removed the sweet, heavenly juices with his tongue. Warmth flushed her cheeks and she stuttered out, ‘And sun-bathing,’ to cover for her thoughts that were both gutting and inappropriate.

No more mango in bed for them...

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Gill had the same mangoimage in his mind and his mouth watered a little. And the sun-bathing didn’t help. He remembered how Harriet liked to go nude on the beach so her olive skin wasn’t marred by white strap marks.

Once a hippy, always a hippy.

Harriet had been brought up by alternative lifestyle parents who still lived a communal existence in the hinterland of Byron Bay. They had instilled in her a wonderful sense of justice and fairness and doing unto others, and he knew they had made her the wonderful humanitarian she was today.

As well as a closet nudist.

Gill hadn’t met anyone quite as at ease with their body or nudity as Harry. At home she barely wore clothes and every opportunity she got to disrobe she took gleefully. Which was a bonus for him. As far as he was concerned, she could be permanently naked.

Unfortunately...he’d just signed away any rights to seeing her naked ever again.

Her gaze met his and for a moment he felt as if she was thinking the same thing. No more nudity. No more Bondi. No more mangoes or barbeques or escargots.

At least, not together.

Did she feel that loss as keenly as he did or had she had time to get used to it? After all, in their year of separation he had never seriously believed that either of them would make it permanent. But she’d obviously thought about it - a lot.

‘What are the chances, do you think,’ Katya asked in her heavily accented English, ‘we will get out of here before any more casualties arrive?’

‘Zero,’ said Helmut, pessimistic as always.

The turn in conversation brought Gill out of his trance and he reluctantly broke eye contact with Harriet. Their flight left at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning. It wasn’t unknown to go twenty-four hours without incoming wounded, but it was the exception rather than the rule. Unfortunately, the human carnage was showing no signs of abating and it was never long between skirmishes.

But, if nothing else it would keep him busy today. Too busy to think about Harriet and the divorce and how badly his life was going to suck without her.

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