Prologue - The Small Hours

 

It was a small hour of the morning, number around three or four. Her mind was sharply awake but, for a second, she did not know where her body was, except that it was in a bed and the bed was unfamiliar.

There was the sound of another person drawing breath, in and out, regular but not loud. She moved her arms around to explore the bed space. A body was lying near, source of breath sounds. It was hard and angular shaped; a body of elbows and bony protuberances. It was a man, and he was sharing her bed, now in this most alone hour.

As she felt his shape her memory returned. If he delayed his return a little longer neither she nor he would be here. She would be a cold object in a box; her spirit, if such existed, gone. Great tenderness for this man washed over her; it was as if he had reprieved her from death row a minute before execution, even if her demise would have been self-done.

She ran her fingers through his straggly hair and over a bony shoulder. She pushed her body tightly up against him, wrapped arms around and hugged herself to him. He was all bones and angles, so wasted from walking, but she loved his shape and comfort. Her body was so distended with her swollen child-full belly; his was so empty from three months of eating lizards and frogs. Yet he was here and he was hers. She loved his body, she loved him.

He stirred in his sleep. Coming half-awake he rolled towards her, speaking in a thick sleep filled voice.

“I can’t believe I am lying here with you. I have no words to say how wonderful it feels. It is something I half dreamed as I walked forever but never dared to imagine.”

Now she could feel his body rousing against her, his maleness was his one full part. She wanted it to fill her again. She rolled onto her back bringing his hand to that place. They made love, he trying to be careful of her enlarged belly. She laughed, telling him. “They are well protected in there. You are as light as a feather, you will do no harm.”

Their bodies released in one of life’s tender moments.

He muttered, “Susan, my beautiful Susan.”

She felt happy; so, so, really, really, really happy; she felt new surprise at her ability to love, to know complete gladness after what had been. She must never lose this moment of surprise by joy.

Vic drifted back to sleep. Soon she could hear his regular breathing again. Her mind stayed in a dreamy wakefulness, remembering what had been, only bare hours before.

They had left the courtroom together, with a crowd of friends and family, walking the short distance to the hotel, all of them desiring a celebration and catch up. Vic hobbled beside her for his promised plate of steak and chips washed down with a cold beer.

The food was good but the night an anti-climax. Vic had eaten so little for weeks that he could only manage a third of his dinner. She had a numb mind from anxiety and exhaustion of spirit. Vic had barely slept for the past three nights as he had driven himself to keep walking. Now, with his mission accomplished and alcohol washing through his bloodstream, he could barely keep his eyes open. Others wanted to take Vic to hospital to recover and fix his leg and to take her to a hotel bed in a room next to her parents or Anne to protect her from herself.

But Susan declined, saying “Vic has walked for three months to get here today. I am staying with him tonight.” No one could argue with that.

So, ever reliable, Alan had the solution. “My flat is empty now that I am sharing with Sandy. Why don’t you both stay there tonight?”

They both nodded in gratitude. Soon they were there, alone. In a minute Vic was asleep, stretched out on the bed. Susan showered and found one of Sandy’s light dressing robes, wrapping it around her body. She sat on the bed beside Vic, one hand on his shoulder, the other fondling his hair, taking in simple pleasure from touching and looking.

After half an hour he stirred and looked up with an incredulous grin. “I dreamed of you. Here you are, way more beautiful than in my dream.”

She took off her robe, placing her naked body along his. His body was unwashed, dirty, skinny and smelt. She did not care. She wanted to join her body fully to his. Soon they were in a place of joined togetherness. Then they slept, bodies entwined, in a deep and dreamless sleep.