Wicked Game

  May 2003 Our days together are running out.     'But we'll soon be together again, in Asia,' Steve says.    I nod. It seems so far into the future. I wrap my arms around my stomach.     Will I even be able to go to Asia?     I picture myself backpacking with a baby. That's not possible. Not possible because I'm not pregnant. I'm not I'm not I'm not.    'We've spent so much time together I feel like I've known you for three years,' Steve says.    'You sound quite bitter about that,' I say.    He puts on a mock annoyed voice. 'Three bloody years I've known you...'    Steve says he's seen a job in a pie factory advertised.    'There's no way anyone would let you work in a pie factory,' I say, 'they'd take one look at you and...'    'What's with the fat jokes?' he says.    'Who said it was a joke?' I say. I raise my eyebrows.    Later in the pub with ...

  May 2003 I'm going away for a few days, on a tour of the rural areas south of Perth. Steve isn't coming. He's already been. He needs to look for a job.     I wish he was coming, that instead of joining a tour it could be just the two of us travelling together. Like it was before.    In the morning before I leave he's still asleep. I bend down to kiss him goodbye. Maybe my wet hair drips on him. He jerks violently away before I get close. I feel like a ghost on the tour, like some kind of invisible presence causing a slight sense of unease in everyone.    Two of the men get very drunk on the first night and stay drunk for the rest of the trip. We climb precarious feeling ladders. One of the women comments to another that it's irresponsible of the tour guide to let the drunk men do that.    At lunchtimes there are apples, the tour guide tells us we can eat as many as we want. I eat three and I still want more.     We walk ...