The Savage Garden

    'Take it slowly.'

    'I'm trying to,' she said, 'but it's hard.'

    He could make out enough of her expression in the moonlight to know that he hadn't misunderstood her meaning. 'Then take it quickly.'

    Her teeth shone pale behind her smile. 'Okay.'

    They kissed more urgently than they had the first time. His hand strayed to her buttocks, his palm drifting over the firm, round contours, absorbing the information and sending it to his brain. She didn't attempt to remove his hand. Quite the opposite. Her fingers pressed into the muscles of his back in encouragement.

    When they finally broke off, he said breathlessly, 'God, you have a beautiful . . . rear.'

    'Thank you. So do you.'

    He held her close and ran his fingers through her long hair.

    'When are you leaving?' she asked.

    'I don't know. Soon. That's why I didn't want Harry to say anything about the garden. I don't have an excuse to stay around now.'

    'Were you right? Did something bad happen?'

    He hesitated. 'Yes.'

    They kissed again, briefly, and then she got into her car. Peering up at him through the open window, she said, 'I'll tell you where the key is if you promise not to get caught.'

    'It's a promise.'

    She told him. She also reminded him to grab another bottle of champagne for Harry. Then she fired the engine and pulled away.

    It might have been a trick of the shadows, but he could have sworn he caught a flutter of movement behind one of the second- floor windows as the headlights swept the courtyard.

    Harry had removed himself to a stone bench during Adam's absence. He was lying on his back, staring at the star-stained sky. Adam popped the cork and filled their glasses.

    'Did you kiss her?'

    'Yes.'

    'Bastard. She's too good for you.'

    'Thanks.' 'It's true,' said Harry. 'I mean, you're a bright young boy and everything—' He broke off suddenly, snapping upright and fixing Adam with an intense stare. 'My God, you are a bright young boy, aren't you?'

    'What?'

    'Yes, you are. I mean, I've always known it . . . but do you have any idea what you did today?'

    'We did it, Harry.'

    'Rubbish. You were there, half a step away. You would have figured it out.'

    Unaccustomed to hearing kind words from Harry, Adam wasn't quite sure how to react.

    'The first person in how many years?'

    'Three hundred and something.'

    'I thought it was more.'

    'We can push it to four if you think it'd make a better story.'

    Harry laughed. 'It's a great story. This is going to change everything.'

    'Why?'

    'Well, you can't go off and sell insurance after this.'

    'Why not?'

    'Why not!? Anyone can sell insurance. How many people can do that?' Harry thrust his hand in the general direction of the memorial garden.

    'What if I don't want to do that?'

    'You've got to.'

    'Why?'

    'Why!? Because you see things other people don't.'

    'No, I don't.'

    'Yes you do. You always have. Even when we were kids. It's true, Paddler. You were always taking things apart, looking at them from the inside out. Mum always says: the only baby she's ever known that tried to smash its rattle open. We still laugh about it.'

    'Oh, I'm happy for you both.'