I took my eyes off the track for a second, and grinned at her. ‘Just thinking…’
I’d been thinking about her a lot — for 12,000 miles and plenty of time zones — and normally that would have been her short cut to a P45. I’d have left her in Brisbane, I’d have given her the van. I’d have cut away.
But this time, about 36,000 feet over the Pacific, I’d remembered something someone had once said to me in a car that stank of wet dogs.
‘
I’d nodded to myself on the plane, and I nodded to myself again now.
‘About what?’
‘About how right you were. We are a good fit, aren’t we?’
She laughed and leaned her head against my shoulder, and if that was what joining the human race was all about, I was up for it.
Something else I’d learned from the expert.
We passed the paddock where the old stallion had used to mope, but not any more. I’d fucked about with the JCB and dug a big hole in the corner of his field, and then I’d put Charlie’s shotgun to his head and given it both barrels. I had an idea that the bay was smiling now as much as Charlie was.
