Sarah

By Alan R Wilson

A light romance looking at paternalism, male entitlement, ‘first love’ and how small events or non-events can have a disproportionately large impact.
Synopsis
Sarah is a successful, top-level public servant married to Greg, a highly successful barrister and QC. To all appearances she has an idyllic life with two grown children and a successful career. However, there are undercurrents of discontent (Sarah ‘of course’ was the one to take the major career break when the children where young) which a series of events bring to the surface.
Sarah is the front runner to fill an upcoming vacancy at Deputy Secretary level in her department. However, Greg is discontented with his life and wants fresh challenges. He has a chance at a late political career and blithely assumes Sarah will throw her support behind him. As well as her inheritance from her father’s estate he expects her to abandon her career to further his ambitions. She refuses to accede to his expectations which causes friction. Not content with this Greg works behind her back to put pressure on her. However, old history surfaces with the chance discovery of decisions made for Sarah without her knowledge when she was young, well meant, but arrogant and paternalistic. Combined with the death of her dog and a chance encounter which stirs old emotions it all starts to unravel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan R Wilson
• Release date: Oct 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9780648599982

Alan R Wilson

As an undergraduate in the 1970s I was a member of the Melbourne University Science Fiction Club, contributing to and editing the magazine, Yggdrasil, which was largely devoted to fiction. We also held writers workshops and since then I have continued to ‘scribble away’ at various things with the seed of the ‘Anita’ novels sprouting in the late 80s.Personally, I found it impossible to write seriously while working full-time. (I have a Ph D in Physics and worked in research and have published numerous scientific articles). Always wanting to be a novelist, I took time off a few years ago to see if I had it in me to produce a novel. It worked for me and I retired properly and have dedicated myself to writing ever since.Writing is great fun, I love it. Whenever asked I say it is ‘better than reading’ because I am continually surprised as the plot develops. I am definitely not an author who has a novel plotted out from start to finish. As Ray Bradbury said, ‘It would be boring if you knew where it was going’. Indeed, the main protagonist in ‘Anita’ suddenly appeared a third of the way into the novel.There are 4 more books on the way in the Anita Histories and I am also dabbling in some contemporary novels too. Keep tuned, because the next 3 Anita novels may come out quite quickly.

Book preview

Sarah scooped the ball into the end of the ball thrower, lifted and, with expertise developed over the years, flicked it out into the park. Not too hard nowadays because Max was past his prime and Sarah found his huffing and puffing distressing when he overextended himself. Thankfully he showed no signs of joint problems common to his breed and she was always careful to check his ears, although it was the one part of his cleaning routine he was not keen on. However, he was definitely not the young pup he still believed he was.

A stayer, like me, she reflected while she watched him return at the fast amble which had replaced his long, loping run. Partway back to her he veered to the left. Ah ha, another friend. Max was a most sociable dog and Sarah had been aware of the approaching crunch of gravel for some seconds; it looked like Max was about to introduce them, like many fleeting meetings before.

A greybeard, like me, the man said when he stooped to let Max sniff his hand before giving him a firm rub and pat over the shoulders.

Sarah stood still and watched Max respond to the friendly overture by dropping the ball at his feet and looking up expectantly.

Wrong person, old feller, the man responded, and straightened to look in Sarah’s direction.

Now he will ask me how old he is, she thought.

Looks fit, and I see you are practiced at throwing his ball.

Yes. He’s twelve, Sarah replied, automatically volunteering the answer for the expected question.

It threw her off-kilter and she regarded the man more thoughtfully. For some reason this one was different. She felt there was something familiar about him. Do I know you from somewhere? Sarah wondered while she studied him. The silence stretched out, almost to the point of embarrassment when he, in turn, studied her back. It was broken when they both looked away and started to speak at the same time.

Do/Are you ….

They stopped, half smiling, part embarrassment and part amusement at interrupting each other. He gestured for her to continue.

Do you lith around here? Sarah asked, not noticing her slight lisp.

She did not consciously notice his eyes widen either because Max distracted her by giving a soft ‘woof’ at the same time.

Obvious isn’t it, he replied with a nervous smile. Get yourself under control! I was about to ask you the same thing, he continued in a more even voice. I was wondering because I don’t recall seeing you and this guy before and I often walk this way.

Not really. The nearest off-leash has a creek close by.

Ah, and being a Labrador …, colder, he’s not young. What’s his name? Very patient, and he squatted down this time to rub the dog on his neck, pulling his head back with a frown when Max moved closer to try to lick him on the face.

Max.

Righto, Max.

‘Woof,’ louder this time.

I think he wants you to throw the ball.

He stood and watched her flick the ball out into the park again for Max to go lumbering off after it.

Ah, see you around, he said and Sarah heard the crunch of gravel and turned to see him walking away.

She belatedly realised she had not responded but now he was too far off. His receding back struck a chord within her mind but whatever it was related to was dislodged by a nudge on her leg, Max’s way of telling her she was doing the wrong thing. Sarah scooped the ball up to throw it again and started to drift back towards the small parking area where her car was waiting for them.

The encounter in the park disturbed her for the rest of the day. Her memory of faces and their associations was excellent and, while she felt she had met him before, her failure to place him bothered her.

And Again

We meet again. Hi Max, maybe I need one of those throwing thingies too, the man from two weeks ago said when Max refused to pick up the ball he had deposited at his feet, forcing Sarah to come to him.

Bit cold today and we are avoiding the water again, Sarah said, scooping it up to flip it onto the oval.

Yeah, he’s a retriever. Haven’t met a Labrador who can resist a pool of water, don’t need to tell you though, he said while they both watched Max head off.

Do you have a dog? Ah, silly, of course not.

Right, but I do have a cat.

But Max … you are very relaxed with him.

Um, don’t you think it is silly the way people assume if you like one, you don’t like the other? I like animals in general. Dogs, cats, birds, insects, lizards, spiders, whatever. Cats, because they are independent. You know the old joke about cats and staff. No? O-kay. Dogs have owners whereas cats have staff. A tad lame, yeah.

They were quiet while Sarah dealt with Max’s ball again.

But it’s not true really, he continued, wanting to start a proper conversation. I mean, here you are, exercising Max and when he was young obedience school and making sure he is socialised. He paused. Whereas Rusty, my cat, he self exercises and didn’t need any training.

Hmm, you must admit dogs are more social, Sarah replied.

Exuberantly social whereas cats hang out. If I am in the garden more often than not Rusty is not too far away. What do you think, Max? he finished, addressing the Labrador when he arrived back with his latest ball.

This time Max surprised Sarah by dropping the ball at the man’s feet and sitting to lift his right paw: his shake hand trick which he only did with family.

What …, oh, she heard the man say before he extended his right hand and placed it under Max’s paw to move it up and down a few times before Max pulled it back and stood up to look pointedly at the ball.

See, he said with a chuckle when Sarah scooped it up again. Who has staff now? he asked, but Sarah did not respond.

Steven was working hard to start a conversation because he was wondering whether she was someone from years, decades in his past. They never really met at the time, but some months previously a vivid recollection from his university days had ambushed him. The memory was of a brief encounter with another college resident, a young woman he met on the path to the main campus. At the time he was puzzled why the visual memory suddenly popped into his mind but he never came up with any explanation. However, it was followed a few days later by another, related memory. This was more detailed and was from a time a week or two before the first one, during lunch in the college hall, and was centred on the same young woman. She had a minor speech impediment, a very slight lisp which at the time he found particularly endearing. He recalled wanting to meet her and become better acquainted but was too slow because she did not reappear in college the next term and he never saw her again.

However, the flashbacks became lodged in his mind and were popping up at all sorts of times. Over the months he realised he was becoming somewhat obsessed with her image and fruitless imaginings of what might have been which he recognised as Sehnsucht: ‘useless dreaming for what never could be’. Steven was not averse to some dreaming, a bit of fantasy. Indeed, it helped him in his occupation and he had even written a bitter-sweet short story based on one of his fantasies spun around his memories if he and she had been slightly different people. At the time he hoped it might expunge the ghosts in his mind but, in fact, it failed spectacularly and now his imaginings were sometimes overly intrusive and kept him awake until the story in his mind played itself out.

Now, to top it all, the woman with the dog was playing straight into his fantasies. His conundrum was the image in his mind was of a young woman, possibly not even twenty years old, and while it was possible the much older woman in front of him was her some forty years later, it was difficult to be sure. What really triggered him was the faint lisp he heard in her voice the first time Max ‘introduced’ them with no further evidence of it since then. Maybe it only happens when she is stressed, he thought but was loathe to test his hypothesis since it would be gauche to try to embarrass her and, worse, it might frighten her away. What he wanted to do was swing the conversation around to the past but he was at a loss at how to do it without appearing weird. Steven was playing for time, but she was not responding and, again, he was afraid if he kept up a virtual monologue she might think he was an oddball trying to ‘chat her up’ which he supposed he was, in a way. Even though he was failing to achieve his objective Steven knew it was time to leave.

Right-o, Maxie, I’ll leave you to your staff. Bye, he said and walked off.

Maxie! How does he know …, no, it’s common enough. But, and Sarah turned to watch his receding back, I don’t think he really wanted to go, and the feeling she knew him from somewhere came back to her much more strongly. She turned her head away when she saw him hesitate at the edge of the park and turn to look in her direction but, on an impulse, looked back and gave him a little wave which she was gratified (why?) to see he returned.

Again and Again and Again

Trips to this particular park became a regular feature for Sarah and Max and at first occasionally, then nearly always, Max’s friend, as Sarah came to think of him, would be there and they fell into talking while she exercised Max. First they discussed Max, the common subject, but they moved to other topics, both trivial and more serious, like what books have you read recently, what stupidity are the politicians up to, interesting advances in science, some ‘pop’ psychology or, the weather, which, given Sarah’s work interests, tended to morph into considerations centred around climate change.

As they become more comfortable with each other Steven abandoned his quest to hear her lisp. He began to look forward to their weekly meetings and made sure his timing overlapped hers. However, it was decidedly detrimental to his attempts to expunge the fantasy images in his mind but he consciously decided to ‘go with the flow’ and see where it took him.

A Birthday

You’re late, James accused his sister upon opening the door to her.

Six minutes! Give over …

Happy Birthday, Sarah said to Laura after she gently shunted James out of the way and gave her a quick hug.

Harpy burr way, Aura, little Sarah said, echoing her grandmother and running up to enthusiastically squeeze Laura’s leg.

Whoa, careful little chicken, you’ll tip me over, or, and little Sarah started to giggle when Laura walked stiffly down the hall to the family room, carrying her on her leg.

Where’s Maxie? Laura asked when she arrived, soon followed by, Gran. No, don’t …, but Laura was too slow and her last remaining grandparent levered herself out of her chair to greet her.

Grandma put him outside. Too big for Sarah, James replied, referring to his mother as ‘grandma’.

Happy birthday, Laura, dear, her grandmother said and they exchanged a light hug. More James put him out, she said in a lower voice. Young Sarah’s keen.

Once I was mum and now I am grandma, the elder Sarah was thinking while watching the younger Sarah who was now tugging on Laura’s leg.

Eee Maxy, Aura, she was now demanding. Ow sie.

Off you go, dear. We will talk later. I have more patience than this one.

Laura’s grandmother was willing to wait and pander to her great-granddaughter.

Come on, chicken, let’s see the big bouncy dog, Laura suggested and made for the door.

Wait. He really is too big …, James started but was cut off by his mother.

Leave them be James! She’s safe with Laura.

She gave him a considering frown. Sarah thought James and Natalie, young Sarah’s parents, were overly protective: Laura would never let any real harm come to little Sarah even if she sometimes found it scary with her Auntie Aura which, of course, was part of the attraction. James, however, was not convinced and after a couple of high-pitched shrieks he was out the still open door.

James! Sarah called out but gave up and turned to Natalie instead. Maxie will only be trying to lick her face, she said and was irritated by the fleeting look of distaste which passed over Natalie’s face. You guys need a pet, she said more forcefully. You do know children raised with animals are less prone to asthma, eczema, that type of thing. You’re lucky she gets a dose of dog here. Might be good for her to visit more often.

Sarah had more to say but was interrupted by the buzz of the doorbell which was soon followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing, accompanied by more shrill shrieks from the backyard. It’s becoming a madhouse, she was thinking when she heard the click of shoes on the polished parquetry. Habitually late, there was only one person it could be.

Marion, Sarah turned to greet the brightly dressed woman who was walking toward her.

Sarah, and where’s the birthday girl? Marion replied.

I’m glad you made it, Laura will be thrilled. Out in the garden with Max and little Sarah. Greg! She stepped forward to call down the side passage. Everyone’s here now. Greg! Come on, turn it off.

Marion raised a questioning eyebrow.

Been stuck on his mobile since before James arrived.

Ah, Marion replied, and headed off to find Laura and nearly collided with James when he came storming back inside followed by squealing and excited barking noises from the backyard.

Bloody Laura. First she has Sarah running away from me and now she’s doing aeroplanes. Knows how I hate it but Sarah insists even though you can hear her shrieking with terror. What happens if she lets her go?

She won’t let her go. Bloody hell, James! Every kid likes to live on the edge a little. She’s safe unless you start interfering, Marion responded.

And Max is all stirred up, he added.

He’s a dog. What do you expect with him being shut out the back and now some exciting company, Sarah responded this time.

James, your mother suggested Sarah visit more often, Natalie said in what Sarah considered was a suggestive way.

Oh, err, good, James said, caught out by the change in topic. Great, he continued more enthusiastically. Especially with Natalie looking at going back to work. Part-time to start with.

I didn’t know. You’re saying something regular, on the weekend? Hmm, will need to coordinate, see if your father can help too. Or are you talking about night work? Sarah said.

They were all distracted when Laura and young Sarah made a noisy entrance and Greg finally emerged from his study. He greeted James and Natalie before squatting down to lightly ruffle young Sarah’s hair, saying,

How’s my favourite granddaughter?

Huwo granpa, she replied seriously before turning to hug Laura’s leg again.

He patted her on the head and straightened up, looking around.

Is John here too? he asked rather than greeting his daughter.

No! Really dad, it’s a family thing today and, I’m fine, thank you! Laura replied, ducking his implicit question and allowing a small part of her irritation to show.

John was a young up-and-comer at Greg’s law firm, introduced to her during a dinner dance which she somehow let herself be inveigled into attending some months back. He was amusing enough, quite attractive and, against her better judgement, Laura went out with him a few times. He was keen but she did not see any future in it, especially compared to the much more interesting young man she finally managed to meet several weeks ago. She begged off the last few times John asked her out, saying she was busy. However, he was proving impervious to the message and Laura was steeling herself to flatly refuse him and tell him she was involved with someone else.

I was under the impression you liked him. You went out a few times, Greg responded, followed by, why’s she here? when he saw Marion for the first time as she came back inside.

Greg was not happy to see Sarah’s long-time friend. Known by the children as ‘Auntie Marion’ when they were young, Sarah and Marion were close friends from the start of her university days and consequently had known each other for longer than Sarah knew Greg. He considered her a disturbing influence. Once a month she and Sarah had a coffee and a natter and Greg was sure Sarah was always unsettled and more argumentative afterwards. Her sexuality also made him uncomfortable and he had more than once wondered if she had a ‘thing’ for Sarah. The couple of times he hinted at it to Sarah she was unconcerned and fobbed him off, which also irritated him.

Laura was already annoyed with Greg and his response rankled her further. How do you know? Do you discuss me at work! she thought but restrained the quick retort which came to mind instead to say, bitingly,

Yes, but we didn’t hit it off!

Oh. I think he’s nice, Greg replied with a slight frown.

You are not me, are you, father! Laura retorted in a staccato voice. I …, she started, the encounter reminding her of the arguments with him over other male friends.

Come on everyone, pre-lunch drink, Sarah jumped in knowing what Laura calling Greg, ‘father’, that way might lead to.

Laura sent a frown in her mother’s direction but kept quiet, making a conscious effort not to spoil the day. My birthday, after all. Hang it, and she put on a smile of peace and gave her father a quick peck on the cheek before stepping back to look at him meaningfully.

What’s … oh yes, Happy Birthday, Laura, he said and smiled, but not very convincingly.

Lunch passed amicably and at the end they lit the candles again for young Sarah to blow out. She now knew what birthday parties were about and declared Laura’s fat candles, a two and a six, were ‘funny’ because she knew candles were long and thin and she was also sure Auntie Aura deserved a few more of them.

The topic of John came up again when they were clearing up, but this time it was raised by James when he and Laura were collecting the plates from the table because, of course, James knew John too.

John’s taken with you, you know, he whispered to her.

Fine, but I’m not taken with him. He’s too, what … conventional I suppose. Said there was no way he was going to Germany.

Who’s not going to Germany? Greg asked after overhearing the tail end of Laura’s reply.

John, James replied for Laura.

John? What? Why does he want to go to Germany? Can’t practise there, set him back years.

Another reason he’s not here, Laura commented.

You’re going to Germany! Greg exclaimed.

Not settled, but likely. Finish my thesis and postdoc in Heidelberg. Biomed Engineering group there is really humming, Laura replied.

But …, aren’t there positions locally? Greg asked, disconcerted by the idea of Laura heading overseas.

Maybe. My supervisor says the experience will be good for me. Says we’re a little insular here.

Who’s insular? Marion asked, moving over to join them.

Laura says she has a postdoc in Germany, James answered for her again.

Not sure yet. Applied for a postdoc, starts August, September, Laura corrected him.

Good for you. Does Sarah know? Marion said in support.

No. I didn’t intend to tell anyone until it is all settled.

But you’re pretty certain? Marion asked.

Yeah. My supervisor’s been there on sabbatical and knows them. Says I have a very good chance. There’s also a Deutsch-Australian cooperative agreement or something she is working on.

What’s going on? Sarah asked in response to Marion’s signalling for her to come over.

Laura says she’s going to Germany. Maybe he can visit, Greg said.

Germany! When? Hey, is this a postdoc? Great, Sarah enthused.

August, September, if I get it.

No problems, girl. Marks like yours and how many papers have you published as part of your Ph D? Marion said.

Yes, Auntie Marion, Laura teased.

But it’ll leave him in the lurch, Greg mumbled.

What are you talking about? Sarah asked.

John.

What the hell. Are you still on about him? He’s nice enough but he can’t even cook! Laura retorted.

But you like cooking, Greg replied.

Come on, dear, Marion said and shepherded Laura away from Greg. I actually managed to bring you a present this year.

Sarah was grateful Marion stepped in and averted a situation developing because it would be unfortunate to end the day on a sour note. However, she still believed Greg deserved a piece of her mind and grasped his arm to edge him in the opposite direction.

Rather insensitive, she hissed. Harping on about this John character who she has no interest in and ignoring her news.

But … overseas. Not even England. She will be over thirty when she comes back.

So!

By then, who will she …, she’ll be old.

Are you trying to marry her off? You are! She might find a nice German man or French or maybe a Mademoiselle. It’s her life. Or maybe no one at all, a free spirit.

You mean like Marion, and what’s she doing here anyway?

You can end up a lot worse and you know why she’s here; been part of the family since before they were born.

Humph, perhaps it’s time for them to grow out of her.

And me too I suppose! It was not a new argument and Sarah felt herself becoming annoyed but consciously held her emotions in check. I refuse to argue now. Get a grip, it’s Laura’s day, don’t mess it up. You realise you’ve pissed her off again! Go and make up and drop this John rubbish.

Greg looked at her sharply. It was happening again, she was being overly pushy. Bloody Marion! he thought, blaming her, before he took his wife’s advice and went to make peace with his daughter.

Next Sunday

Max bounded out of the car and went straight for the bowl under the drinking fountain where he noisily lapped at the water while Sarah kitted herself out with plastic bags, ball and ball thrower. He turned at the sound of the car locking and trotted off down the path. Sarah looked around and felt a pang of disappointment when she saw one other walker, but not the right one.

Maxie, ball, she called to attract his attention before lofting the ball into the air.

Too far, but Max started well to flag at the end. This way they were a third of the way around the double oval when Max went off to his left and disappeared behind a clump of bushes. Sarah hastened after him to see what he was doing and was in time to hear a familiar voice say, Hullo Maxie, staying out of the water again.

Clearing the bushes she saw him rubbing Max’s head and shoulders. When Sarah started towards them she realised there was a big smile on her face and damped it down. What am I afraid of, she thought, but her spirits lifted when she saw him. I wonder what his name is? However, it felt too late to ask and it did not really matter.

If I must drive Max to the off-leash I may as well come here. Keeps him out of the water too, like the vet advised, she lied at the end and felt a slight heat of an embarrassed blush wash over her.

And he likes you, she added after a short pause. You treat him .. like a person, rethpect him and he .. loves, appreciates you back, or am I talking about myself? Sarah finished, not a little anxious and confused at the emotions her simple words were stirring within her and also dismayed at the further heat she felt in her face; I don’t blush anymore!

Max turned back to her and stood, poised and ready, eye on the ball held in the thrower. However they all remained still; Sarah because of her confusion at her reaction when she saw him sitting on the bench, notebook and pen in hand; Steven because he heard it again, the hint of a lisp which he was now sure only showed itself when she was flustered. He mentally shook himself.

He’s a grand dog. Do you intend to throw his ball or taunt him with it? he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Sarah fumbled the thrower and it fell to the ground. Steven was quick to bend down and retrieve it.

May I? he asked.

Yeth, she agreed, and hastily added, but not too far.

He was inexperienced and the ball certainly did not go too far. Indeed, it did not go far enough and Max looked like he was considering whether it was worth the effort before he ambled over to it.

Here you are, bit of a dud, Steven said, and when he handed her the thrower their hands brushed.

Sarah started, nearly dropping it again.

Sorry, Steven apologised and hesitated, wondering whether to step away but decided it was less awkward to stay where he was. He’s taking his time isn’t he, come on Maxie, he called over to the dog and half squatted, excitingly slapping his thighs with his hands.

Max responded by grabbing the ball and throwing his head around before lumbering back to Steven at a fast trot. He misjudged and ended up ramming him, causing him to overbalance and fall sideways. Steven’s hand skated over the gravel when he tried, but failed, to stop himself from sprawling on the path. Max mistook it as part of the game and bounded over him and back. Noticing a face within licking range he dropped the ball to go for it. Steven squirmed on the ground, trying to fend him off, protecting himself from the wet tongue with his arms.

Max, no, please, oh hell! he cried but was not able to keep the laughter out of his voice.

Max, sit! a sterner voice commanded.

In the reprieve, Steven managed to struggle up off the ground.

I’m sorry, Sarah began to apologise.

No, no, my fault, Steven was quick to respond. I stirred him up; don’t blame him for my silliness. Shit, he finished and waved his hand tentatively in the air.

Your hand’s hurt.

Yeah, he replied and held it up to examine it.

His hand was smeared with blood with a number of minor scratches and one deeper one, which was still oozing, on the ball of his thumb.

You need a bandaid, Sarah said and started to rummage in her bag.

Wash first, Steven said and started towards the drinking tap not too far away.

It’s rather old, Sarah said as she followed him and waved a less than pristine bandaid in the air. At least it’s still in its package.

Steven let the water run over his hand and gingerly ran his fingers over the abrasions to make sure there was no dirt or sand embedded in them.

Best to …, they both began to say, let it bleed, Sarah finished.

Yeah, clean the wound, Steven added.

Ah, what are you doing? Sarah asked when she saw him struggling to take something out of his right pocket with his left hand.

Some clean tissues. To dry my hand for the bandaid. Here we are, he said when his hand emerged with a few white tissues clasped between his thumb and fingers.

Give them to me. Hold your hand out, Sarah instructed and, after separating the tissues, lightly grasped his hand with hers to dry around the cut. She squeezed his hand to help close the wound, dabbed at it again to clear up the blood and deftly applied the bandaid before any more welled out.

There you go, Sarah said and gently smoothed the ends down to help it stick, and looked up. Their eyes met, less than two hand spans apart.

Sure you’re okay? she asked when he moved backwards and nearly tripped over his own feet.

Yeah, yeah, just need to sit. How can I tell her she’s the problem? Come on, take control of yourself, Steven! and, her wedding ring and the engagement ring with the flashy diamond were also rather obvious. These observations, which should have sobered him, had a minimal impact on his state of mind. Steven managed to make it back to the bench he was sitting on when she arrived. Sarah followed and sat next to him.

Are you sure? You look pale. You’re not a fainter are you? she asked.

No, quite the opposite. Used to tease my boys if I cut my finger or anything, he replied, and thought, thank god, if we talk about trivia I have a chance to calm down. Shit, then he remembered the feel of her hand holding his and the fleeting contact with her eyes so close.

Um, ah, you weren’t here last week and I missed you yesterday, he blurted out the first thing which came to his mind.

Yes, Laura’s birthday and we had a family lunch. Mm…, him, she said, pointing at Max who, ball forgotten for a while, was sniffing around the trees and following his nose along the grass. Missed out on his big ‘w’.

Max looked across at them but resumed nosing around.

Don’t say those sorts of words, even the double u letter is dangerous, and he will forget this for a while, Sarah explained and jiggled the ball thrower.

Right, Steven sat up straighter, studiously not looking at her, instead watching Max forage in some tussock grass.

Sarah at first watched Max too but soon turned her head to study her companion’s profile. She sensed a change in him, he was less relaxed, and she was still annoyed with herself, sure she knew him from somewhere but unable to remember where. However, she wanted to steer them back to the easy footing they had developed over the preceding weeks.

What were you doing, sitting here, when Max interrupted you? she asked.

Oh, and he involuntarily looked her way and nearly lost himself in her eyes again, grey-blue like his, but managed to skim over them and look first sideways, then at her shoulder and from there down to his injured hand which he lifted as if examining it. Making notes. I always carry a notebook just in case. Often ideas pop into my head and if I am distracted I forget them. Happens when I’m going to sleep too and I bought myself a pen with a little light in it. Otherwise I wake up the next morning knowing I had a great idea but not able to remember it.

Why not turn the light on?

He felt more under control and risked lifting his eyes to look at her.

Pretty bright.

Oh, yeah, of course. What were you noting down today?

Notes for a short story. An idea came to me while I was walking.

Can I see it?

Um, maybe. When it’s finished? Not everything ends up in the final story.

Okay.

They sat quietly, both watching Max who was still happy following his nose.

Did you see the thing about CRISPR and cystic fibrosis? Steven asked, breaking the silence and moving on to a safe topic.

Yes, if it was the article in New Scientist, she replied, thinking, you certainly have reawakened some of my old interests and broadened my horizons, mystery man of the park, and looked back at him.

Their discussions on topics like this usually skimmed over the technical elements (Sarah suspected he understood much more than she did) to revolve around the social implications. He was certainly a technophile and on two occasions he had unknowingly disturbed Sarah with his warnings regarding the potential for negative and rather gruesome applications of the scientific advances they were considering. Overall, however, their discussions were lively and stimulating and Sarah found a couple particularly useful in her position as Director of Science.

With her encouragement, he continued for a short time before asking her what she thought of the article on CRISPR and cystic fibrosis. Sarah replied and was relieved to feel the atmosphere between them relax back to the friendship which had developed between them over the preceding weeks.

Calender Clashes

Put it in the calendar, Sarah interrupted when Greg started to explain what he was doing the following week and why he needed her early on Monday.

Okay, she heard, shortly followed by, What’s this?

What’s what? Sarah asked aggressively because she knew exactly what was in the calendar and the clash with his Monday meeting he was telling her about: she was irritated by how he often sprung a work event or some other function on her with minimal notice.

Conference, 18th to 21st, Brisbane.

I told you about it months ago.

Ha! How do you expect me to remember, you need to remind me.

It’s what the calendar is for! Anyway, I did say something the other week.

For you, yeah, went through his mind before he responded.

Humph. But there is a problem.

Greg. I am going. All booked and paid for and it is important.

I arranged this meeting for the 19th and I need you there. First thing in the morning, 8. Can’t you go up late?

No! I’m up the day early because they want me for a workshop Sunday afternoon and I’m giving a plenary on Monday morning.

Look, it’s …

No! That is final.

Is anyone else going? They can …

Yes there are but no, I am the one who’s made the commitment and the one they invited. Jeez!

He decided to drop it for the time being. I