After Ariel: It started as a game Read Online Free PDF

for once!’ I pulled a gaily wrapped gift of perfume out of my bag. ‘Here’s a little something for Gen. I’m so sorry I can’t wish her a happy birthday in person this year.’
    He took it with evident pleasure. ‘Gen knows you’re On Call from tomorrow arvo, Susan. No worries!’
    ‘Hope we don’t get a job. I would have loved to have gone to Pamela Miller’s concert tomorrow night, but them’s the breaks!
    I swung onto the road, heading for the western suburbs where David, my husband, and I were living. Around me the desperate evening traffic mounted up. I turned on the radio, humming along with Classic Drive. I couldn’t wait to get back to the large, old double-storey house which David and I rented in lieu of our home in the country.
    Some people thought I was mad when we announced that we were getting married to each other for the second time. ‘It didn’t work the first time. You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?’ said friends, trying to caution me without overstepping the mark. My Edwardian-raised mother of Irish descent – which made her more Irish than the Irish and who doesn’t know there is a mark – snorted and said she hoped none of her friends would find out about it. ‘Really Susan, how will it look? ’and ‘If he left you once, he’ll do it again and this time you won’t find anyone else. You’re no chicken you know. Holy Mother of God, girl, you must be quite mad!’
    My father, rigorously trained not to say too much, discreetly pressed a one hundred dollar note into my hand, saying ‘Get yourself something pretty,’ out of the side of his mouth. My younger sister, Melanie, waved a glass of wine under my nose and shouted ‘Go for it, Susan. No forty-three year old man has a right to look as hot as he does, so you’d better grab him back while he’s between wives.’ Thanks, Mel. Good one.
    I slumped in my seat, letting the music wash over me, happily anticipating my arrival home and being with David. A sudden movement in the car next to mine startled me. The driver – a gormless city type – was making moués at me, while talking on his mobile phone. Realising my plain clothes disguised my calling I fumbled for my wallet, snagged my ID out and held it up for him to see. The phone vanished as he snapped his gaze back to the front.
    The sun was going down in pink and orange glory, leaving soft dusk to soothe the final few kilometres to home. I turned into the beautiful, tree-lined street and then in by our letterbox, looking for lights glowing at the end of the long, narrow driveway. If he was home first, David would pour me a large glass of wine as soon as he heard my car pull into the garage.
    The scent of Mock Orange greeted me as I struggled from the car, gathered up my bag and briefcase and closed the roller door. Our dogs and two cats made walking across the verandah difficult, bumping my knees and looking for pats. I pulled up short at the kitchen door. Something simmered on the stove. Mug in hand – no wine ? – David stood watching the back door, a bulging duffle bag on the floor beside him. Cold flickered throughout my limbs. Thus had Harry stood, surrounded by his luggage the morning he left for good.
    ‘David? What’s happening?’ My voice came out in a squeak.
    He stepped toward me, a concerned look on his face. ‘What’s the matter, Susan?’ Words froze in my throat. David is nothing if not intuitive. ‘Did you have a déjà vu moment there?’ Without waiting for me to answer, he swept me into his arms. ‘I’m not leaving you, sweetheart. Well, not forever.’ He kissed the top of my head.
    I pulled back and looked up at him. ‘What do you mean you’re not leaving me forever?’
    ‘I’ve been seconded to Toowoomba. Start in the morning.’ It was then I realised he was dressed in his oldest jeans, T-shirt and work boots. His favourite black leather jacket lay on the chair nearby.
    My heart sank. Before I could comment, my mobile phone