[Terry, holding a camera]

She makes me mental.  I swear, half the time I pick up the camera to take a shot, Tink's got one aimed at me.  Says she thinks it's cute that I stick my tongue out when I'm concentrating.  I bloody don't.  Had to eat those words though, mate, when she handed over the digital with that very picture queued in the window in the back.   

I threatened to paddle her arse then gave her a kiss, swung her round until she shrieked and batted at me and then I turned her loose, grinning as I handed over the camera in my hands so she could see the picture I had queued in mine. 

Curry and his girl, walking hand in hand down the beach.  Her head was on his shoulder and if it wasn't for the footprints they'd left behind, I'd have sworn they were both walking on air.  "Hey, Tink...  look at those two... love's young dream, hey?"

Uma went all soft at that.  "You are just an old romantic."  She handed the camera back and I refocused it in the opposite direction, giving the lovebirds a bit of privacy. 

I smiled, thinking of the moment we'd just seen.  "And of course, sometimes you do get a pretty picture...."  I chuckled.  "Nice shot that.  Used the zoom lens...."  She rolled her eyes at me.  Boys and their toys, eh? 

[Two shadows on the sand]

Sunset.  Lachlan and I were sitting together on the bluff that overlooked the stretch of sand in front of our beach house.  I was nestled between his long legs, my back resting against his chest and my elbows resting on his knees to steady my hands while I held the camera.  Mostly we just sat and talked, his hands resting around my waist and occasionally sliding up to cop a feel in that absent, post-coital sort of way men have when the are content and in love.

I heard the familiar scritch-creak of the screen door on the beach house open and shut and a little while later, Terry came into view, walking along the water's edge.  Smoking.  It made me smile.  He doesn't just smoke when he plays cards.  He smokes after sex, too.  A few minutes later, Uma came out and joined him.  Her hair was mussed and she was wearing one of his shirts.  She met him at the edge of the water and they embraced, sort of melting into each other in the way lovers do when no words are needed.

Looks like we weren't the only couple to want to take advantage of the glorious sunset.  The two of them at the edge of the waves, silhouetted by the burning orange of the evening sky in an intimate embrace....  It was a Kodak moment.  Pity all I had was a Nikon.  Heh.

I put my eye to the camera but Lach put his hand in front of the lens and made a soft rumble in his chest as he shook his head at me.  "Some moments are too golden, Blue.  Leave them this one, hey?" 

I smiled back at him and kissed his chin lightly.  He was right, but that wasn't what I'd intended to capture on film.  "Look at their shadows, Lach."  They were beautiful, willowy figures of deep black resting against the hard wet sand that was reflecting the sky above.    

I felt his chest rise as he saw it from a different perspective and his hand fell away from the camera.  Just one click and I was done.  Two figures.  One shadow. 

Two hearts.  One love.

[Girl talk]

Funny how things strike you sometimes.  Walking in and seeing something you didn't expect or that just touches you.  Now I'm not talking about interrupting a pash.  The four of us?  We've been there and done that already.  I'm talking about a different kind of moment.  The heart, it's a silly old thing, you know?  Getting the odd twinge when you least expect it.

The old man and I had spent the afternoon fishing.  We managed to kill quite a few tinnies but no actual fish- so we stopped at a little seafood market on the way back and picked up some bonzer little beauties.  Reckon the girls won't think we cleaned and filleted them ourselves, so since we were already busted, we opted to pick up a bag of prawns as well.  No sense in letting the best catch of the day get away, now is there?

Dunno quite what we were expecting when we fell in the door with our hard won bounty, but it sure wasn't the sweet little scene we interrupted.  The girls, sitting on the floor, Betty thumbing through Heather's sketchbook with this soft little smile while Heather brushed her hair and weaved what looked like a pale pink ribbon through Betty's shiny locks.  My girl already had some tiny flowers woven in her hair and the pair of them looked like fairies, all soft and natural. 

Now, while I'm sure the nature of the discussion they had while we were out probably would have curled my hair, I enjoyed seeing that little golden moment.  I reckon the old man did as well 'cos he'd tossed me the bag of fish and had that camera whipped out in less than two tics. 

Fair dinkum.  As far as moment go, that was a grand one.              

[The sound of music]

As it happened, all of us brought along our favorite CDs, reflecting four very different musical tastes.   Which, of course, meant we alternated between grooving out and tormenting the crap out of each other.  Terry has lots of stuff in his collection that Uma hated.... Lach wasn't too keen on some of the more modern stuff...  Some he liked- and some garnered the classic sour face and such comments as, "Is that in English?  I can only catch every third word."  And  "You call that dancing?" in response to watching one Terry Thorne get his groove on. 

My music tastes were all over the map... Uma's collection was eclectic too... we all liked Lach's picks, though... so romantic.... even though you know Terry had to complain about them.

"How the hell you dance or fuck to this crap, Curry?"  

"Talent, mate."  He gave them both a cheeky wink.  "I can do it to anything."

In hindsight, I should have heard the gauntlet being picked up just then... but no, it wasn't until the next morning that it hit me.  Or rather hit US when Terry blasted our room at the crack of dawn with a John Phillip Sousa march and banged on the door with his fist.  "Fuck to this, mate!"

Never one to be shown up, Lach gave it his best shot.  Loudly, I might add.  Left, right.... left, right....  More pounding on the door.  "Christ, don't kill her, Flipper.  It's Heather- not Poland!"  I heard Uma giggle and Terry mutter that he should have picked a Barney song.

The rest of the day was just as entertaining.  Lachlan kept humming the march under his breath to annoy Terry.  Uma alternated between laughing and putting her fingers in her ears, complaining the song wouldn't stop going round and round in her head.  And me?  I just smiled.  It's good to be Poland. 

[SPIDER ALERT!]

I have a lot of phobias. But not arachnoids; I am not scared of spiders. I don't much like them but they don't creep me out. I remember when I first found out the effect they had on Terry. We were in a bathroom in a hotel somewhere- I'd only known him a few weeks and I thought he was this superhero guy. He opened the shower door and out leapt a rather large spider.  Terry jumped back and grunted in shock. I picked it up and showed it to him; he knocked it out of my hand and stood on it. I thought he was so horrible for doing that until I realized he was shuddering at the sight of it. You can imagine how much mileage I have had out of that one.

Now, Aussie spiders are a different ball game. They can kill you. Even I give them a wide berth. And as Terry has remarked if you grew up crapping in an outside dunny with a dislike for spiders, you too would have a complex. He could be right.

Anyhow, I was just about to have my morning shower. Terry was doing his impression of a naked reclining Buddha on the bed, flicking the TV channels. I was about to step into the bath when this ENORMOUS monster...the SHELOB of spiders ran along the edge of the tub. I screamed. "OH MY GOD...A SPIDER..."

My knight in shining armour...or a rather golden all over tan at least...did nothing. Actually that isn't quite true. He did do something. He got up and opened the bedroom door. "Curry??" And then threw himself back down again in all his naked glory.

The spider made a second attack. I screamed even louder. Terry shouted... "Curry...for fuck's sake get in here before Dame Nellie shatters my eardrums..."

Lachlan ran in. He was starkers, his hair still dripping from the shower... "What is it? Uma all right?"

Terry shrugged and said, "Her vocal chords are working...she needs some help in the bathroom...more your line of work than mine...Mate, can that woman go loud..."

Lachlan walked in, looking concerned. "Lach...it's a spider..."

"Spider ?... Crikey, she's a little beauty..." He crouched down and had a good look.

"Careful..." I leaned on his shoulders and took a closer peek. "It might be a funnel web..."

"No...just a common or garden monster...here you go, darling..." He picked her up and carried her to the window, easing her out gently and then flicking her onto the overhanging roof of the porch. "There you go...do you know you've got no clothes on, Bet?"

"Well, I don't usually wear them in the shower...and neither do you by the looks of things..."

At that moment Heather knocked on the door. Terry said, "Come in if you like spiders- or nudists."

She peeked round the door. "What's going on- some kind of orgy and why wasn't I invited?"

Lach and I walked through into the bedroom. "Why is everyone starkers?"

"Curry is copping a feel of a spider and Tink is copping a feel of him. I am simply lying on my own bed minding my own business..."

"You left me alone in the bathroom with a killer spider..."

"A slight exaggeration- so, don't be melodramatic. I left you alone in the bathroom with a naked pilot. I reckon that shows a remarkable level of trust, don't you?"

"Or stupidity. Not to mention deserting your post in the time of crisis..."

"I don't like spiders. And I knew it wasn't dangerous. Saw it earlier. And Curry is quite capable of launching a rescue mission without my help. Now will you put some clothes on...I've seen enough of his hairy arse for one day. Or Heather take your robe off...might improve the view...what's that behind your back?"

Heather got some of the best shots all holiday. She missed the spider though.

[Boys will be boys]

The sun, the sand, the surf.... Lachlan and Terry seemed lighter than they had in ages.  In truth, we all let the slow languid days of late summer seep into our bones.  And there is some truth to the notion that vacations at the beach are infused with at least some sense of that carefree feeling of childhood.  From time to time, we all took turns acting like kids and playing like them, too.  It was like the smell of the salty air and the feeling of falling into bed at night with a touch of sunburn made it easier for us all to set aside our more adult responsibilities for a time.

I enjoyed seeing that lightheartedness very much, watching the silly interplay that rarely, if ever, surfaces outside vacation.  Today Lach and Terry were throwing a rugby ball back and forth and racing up and down the beach, throwing each other into the water, tackling each other in the sand.  In general, acting like two teenagers and having a marvelous time- if the smiles on their faces were any indication.  And now and again, we could hear snatches of their laughter over the waves.

"Fuck.  Sand down my shorts!"  Laughter.  "Thought that wasn't supposed to happen?  Some sort of rule?"

"That only works with the girls, mate.  We're on our own."

Another sideways glance and they were charging up the beach, Terry with the ball tucked under his arm and Lachlan in hot pursuit.  Heh.  They wound down after a while, as all boys do, and eventually wandered back our way, beachcombing as they did.  For all their wild play, watching that warmed my heart more. 

They ambled along, not really walking together as women do, but in this random path that seemed to cross at intervals or when one of them turned up a really good bit of treasure.  It yielded a treasure for me too.  My favorite photograph of the two of them from this entire vacation.  Both of them golden and windblown, Lachlan with a beer in his hand and his head thrown back laughing at something, Terry with a big grin and creases at the corners of his eyes as he looked out over the water.  And between then, their arms extended as one of them passed over a find worth sharing.   

[Sand castles]

Four grownups on a nude beach and what do we find to amuse ourselves on a sunny Tuesday afternoon?  Right.  Building sandcastles.  Well, let me rephrase that.  Mr. Anal Retentive was building The Perfect Citadel and my girl was helping him out.  They were, of course, completely engrossed in their little project.... leaving me and Betty to entertain ourselves. 

Will they ever learn?

It didn't take long for us to get bored.  We swam and sunbathed a bit... fussed about like two kids until we simply couldn't stand it a moment longer.  It was misbehave or burst, mate.  Betty armed herself with the camera.  I grabbed some pebbles and we were off.

"Bombs away!"

"Bandit at nine o'clock!"

"Go loud!!"

Terry pulled a face.  "Just piss off and leave my castle alone, will ya.  Go and make your own!" 

Yeah, that's going to happen.  Here I was thinking we'd all have to put up with his sour face for the rest of the afternoon.... and the next thing I knew, he'd returned fire! 

I looked over his naked state and shouted.  "Mate?  Do I even want to know where you were hiding that pebble you just pitched at me?!"

His ducked down inside his castle, giggling like he was four, not forty.  "Got a whole sack of them stashed in the same place, Flip- so watch out!" 

"Terry Thorne, you are so crude!"  This from the girl dressed in only half her bathing suit and wielding a camera?  Christ.  Bet she's better at aiming that thing than Thorne is with a gun. 

A minute later, Betty and I were under bombardment.  Bloody bastard!  Should have known he'd have ammo in reserve, stacked inside in readiness, no doubt.  Is there ever an event he doesn't anticipate?  The two of them giggled like kids and Betty scrambled about getting me bigger pebbles.... and then it was all out war.

I must say, the castle didn't fair too well but we had bonzer little battle there on the beach that ended with the girls screaming as we had a piss on the thing.  Weapons of mass destruction, hey?  We wandered home a bit later, laughing and pink-cheeked and grinning from ear to ear.... and no doubt in possession of a few more snaps to add to the collection....      

[Peaches]

I jiggled the jars aside and leaned in to reach towards the very back of the fridge.... that is until the sound of Terry's voice had me jumping back in surprise. 

"Heather samples the aircon...."  He smirked at me.  "Flip you for the whip cream, love."  I handed it over without even a qualm and dug out what I'd been after all along- the chocolate sauce. 

Terry cocked his head and eyed my backside.  "Ever thought that a bare bum looks a bit like a slot machine?"

Men!  Does anyone really understand the way their minds work?  I laughed as I dug out the ice cream.  "Hmm..... I always thought they looked like a peach...." I looked his butt over and snorted.  "You know, fuzzy with a big bruise."  I looked closer.  "Hey, is that a bite mark?"

He giggled and looked to Lach for support.  "Can't slip anything into a peach though, mate, can ya?"

Uma rolled her eyes.  "Sand flies."

Lachlan grimaced at that thought.  "Bloody brave sand flies if you ask me."

"Tink, you had all your shots?"  Terry teased, brandishing the can of whip cream.

She eyed his groin.  "Had a few shots of something lately."

"God, there's an epidemic waiting to happen."  Lach pulled a face.  "Reckon any sand flies who go up your arse have to be decorated for bravery..." 

"You know, my shit looks like coal?"  One of Uma's patented random brain jumps, which I suspect aren't as random as much as they are designed to get a rise out of Terry. 

It worked.  "Thanks for sharing that, love.  We are all so much better for that piece of knowledge."  He made that sour face he does but you could tell he was trying hard not to laugh.  Lachlan piped up with a comment about black pudding that is too foul to repeat.  Men are so crude!    

"Reckon Jack would know the difference?"

"Well, he does eat spotted dick...."  I couldn't help but add that.

Uma tittered.  "Which brings us back to Terry's groin..."

"Those aren't spots, Tink...." He smirked cheekily.  "It's a sunburn."  God.  Terry Thorne on vacation.  He was harder to keep dressed than a two year old. 

Lach wagged his finger at him.  "Rug burn, more like, you dirty bugger."

Terry's deadpan delivery broke us all up.  "Well.... yeah.  That's why they call it shag pile."

[Misdirection]

"What's that there?"  Uma's eyes danced as she stopped on one of the images she'd been reviewing on the digital screen on the back of our camera.  Lachlan's shadow on the sand. 

Lachlan looked over from where he was digging a moat around the sandcastle Terry and I were building.  "I was holding a stick!!"

Uma was giggling furiously.  "Yeah, I'll bet."

I grinned, looking up from the turret I was decorating with bits of seashells and driftwood.  "I was holding a stick.... in my left hand...."

"Blue!  Be quiet, girl!"

"But in my right hand...."

"I think you get thrown in the water for that!"  I jumped away but wasn't fast enough.  Lach scooped me up, waded out past where the waves were breaking and dumped me in the water, sundress and all.  How embarrassing.  Cue another picture... Heather wet and bedraggled, her sundress transparent and plastered to her. 

Terry was there on the beach with the camera waiting for us.  I knew it!  The bastard!  I will so get him back for that.  And he thinks me adding a 'stick' to Lach's shadow was bad....  I stuck my tongue out at him.  "Some picture that will make."  Dripping wet after being tossed in the drink.  "I'm not Cort!  And I swear, if you mention peaches....."

A wave rolled by and I sputtered.  Lach swam over and I considered pantsing him.  Now that would make a good picture.  His eyes were on my breasts, now clearly visible through the wet fabric.  "You say something, Blue?  I seem to have missed it..... My mind was... elsewhere."

Terry elbowed Uma.  "Yeah, in the gutter with his-"

"Terry Thorne, you shut up!"  I screeched, giggling while Lach and I waded back in together.

His eyebrow went up as he looked at the picture he'd snapped of the two of us in the display window.  "Got it!"  He giggled.  "This is one for the pinboard in my office... and I have just the caption.... Flipper and his mate waddle up the beach!" 

He is so dead.  

[At the movies?]   

Ditched.  Ditched!  Uma and I had been ditched the entire day while Waltzing and Matilda have been out doing God knows what.  From their sunburns (and sandburns) we suspected an impromptu footie match on the beach with the locals... probably followed by the usual post match activity.... a pub crawl with their new 'best mates'.  In any case, the pair of them turned up just before dinner, sandy and sunburned with an air of contriteness that was belied by their wide easy smiles. 

They went up to their rooms to shower.  We plotted.  Sprung it on them as they tromped back down the stairs, still fallow but freshly showered and attired in something a little nicer than swim trunks and beat up t-shirts.  And they were properly contrite now that the pair of them had gotten a good look at the clock. 

We pounced, demanding some time doing what we wanted.... after all, they'd spent the entire day doing what they wanted... and really, all we wanted was a few hours....

"Right, anything, girls.... you name it," Lach uttered cheerfully.

Terry shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face shooting Lach a dirty look and muttering, "You'd make a crap negotiator, Curry."

We grinned, the light of victory in our eyes.... "Okay, then.... Lord of the Rings: Return of the King...."  They both groaned pathetically.  We ignored them.

"We are dying to see it and we want to be properly escorted by the two best looking men in Oz...."  They brightened a bit at the compliment, "...but since they're busy, we will settle for you two scruffy beach bums.... and don't even think you're getting out of this, mate."  Uma wagged her finger at Terry.

Terry grimaced.  "Anything but Lord of the Rings.  I mean... there is love..... and then there is bloody being a doormat for a woman."  Lach nodded in agreement.  "I would prefer Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."

I snorted.  "Only because it's shorter."

"Don't let him fool you.  He means the porno version-  he is SICK!"  Uma was on a roll.

Lach chuckled.  "Just as long as it isn't Bud White and the Seven Sisters."

"No, that's Aladdin.... just rub this and see what happens...."  That broke us all up.

We'd already had Snow White and Aladdin... I wanted to cut this one off at the pass.  "Just as long as The Little Mermaid doesn't enter this conversation!" 

I knew the words were a mistake the minute they left my mouth.  Confirmed when Lachlan opened his.  "Under the sea.... Under the sea.... Darling it's better down where it's wetter...... Take it from me...."

Terry put his hands over his ears.  "Even the Lord of the Rings is better than that crap."

Uma shot me a look.  "Is he being rude again?  Or just cheesy?"

Lachlan wiggled his eyebrows and wagged his tongue at her.  "What do you think, Betty?"  

"I think it starts and seven.... and it's only three and a half hours long."  She lobbed that one straight back.  They moaned again.  "And it has all these naked elf women.... and lots of fighting... and then even more fighting... and a bit of dying.... and more naked women..."

"Well.... now I don't need to see it- seeing as you told me the story and all."  Terry who had perked up, faded a bit and said in a stage whisper to Lachlan, "She had me until the 'and more naked women' bit-  I knew it was too good to be true, mate."

Uma jumped right in.  "You like naked women!"

Terry smirked.  "I like fighting more."

"I swear to God, mate, if you mention pudding, I won't be responsible for my actions."  Lachlan's eyes twinkled mischievously.

Terry sniffed.  "I am more of a participation sport kind of bloke.  There is no pudding.... although I am sure the hobbits would have liked some."

"Awww....  They are so sweet."

"So sweeeeeeeeeeet."  Terry pulled a face, mocking Uma.

Big mistake.  Uma brought out the big guns.  Like we wouldn't have been prepared for some resistance from the troops?  Hardly.  "It is either Lord of the Rings.... OR...... I shall make you watch Master and Commander again... and this time, I won't stop shouting BREECHES! and PACKAGE!"

Both men shuddered and the scowl on Terry's face darkened.  "You will if I gag you!"  He turned.  "Lach, me old mate..... don't know about you, but if I see Goldilocks shout "Fire!" one more time.... I won't be responsible for my actions."  He tweaked Uma's hair playfully and moaned pathetically, "It makes me feel so very low...."  Apparently Terry didn't get any of his Creator's talent at acting.  He sighed heavily.  "So, I reckon we are stuck with asexual hobbits."  

Lach burst out laughing as the pair of them turned to go get changed and I heard Terry mutter darkly as they glumped back up the steps, "What are you on about, Flipper?"

"Had a think on a meeting of two worlds, mate.... can you just see it?  Hobbits on the Surprise?....."  Terry's response was lost in Lachlan's shout of laugher... but you can bet it was clever.  And rude.

[Bawds of the Ring?]

"I am totally in love. Totally....Do you think Viggo Mortensen would marry me?"

"Curry- you know, I think that's the first name I've ever heard that I couldn't make a nickname for...I mean you couldn't get any more absurd than that, could you?"

"I'd even do the elf...he was seriously cute..."

"I'd even do the elf...wasn't he a woman?"

"Not Arwen! Legolas."

"That's the one...the one who was rooting the dwarf..."

"Did you see the same film as we did?"

"He fell asleep at the best bits."

"I didn't. I fell asleep at the worst bits."

"That when you dribbled on my shoulder, Flip?"

"No, that's when I was making a pass at you. I got bored and Heather wouldn't let me touch her."

"Have you got no soul? That was a fantastic film."

"I love all that majestic language...A red sky at sunset, blood will be shed this night...'"

"Tink has lost her eyelash curlers again...?"

"Well at least Blue's got over Jacko at last."

"I haven't. But I can have more than one obsession."

"You know that Russ was offered the part of Aragorn first? Imagine that. He would have crossed over two years ago. You two wouldn't have a number one if he had..."

"You couldn't both be his number one."

"He'd have brought Boromir over for me. He's nice like that."

"Erg athelwart macushloon devlarrn."

"What is he talking about?"

"Elvish."

"Crap...they all talk like that in Queensland...too much sun, you see...and booze...like that bloke in The Matrix...reckon he's from Queensland...he talked like that."

"That's Hugo Weaving. He was the Elf bloody king...of course he talked Elvish."

"No, Queensland. They're all a bit slow...he was still wearing his bins in the Matrix- didn't he know he wasn't blind anymore?"

"Has he had too much sun today? He's talking even more gibberish than usual."

"You know what I feel like? I feel like a coldie...let's call in there..."

"You know what I feel like? A gorgeous Ranger to sweep me away on his horse and carry me off to his castle."

"Put me down! You're not a Ranger...although you are hung like a horse so that will have to do."

"Put me down. You are not a horse!"

"Of course I'm not a horse! I'm a bloody flying dragon, aren't I?"

"How's it hanging, Puff?"

"He is definitely mental."

"Everyone's looking at you two goons. Go and get the drinks in."

"Yes...my precioussssss..."

"That is frighteningly realistic. Lose 99% of your body weight and your hair and you would be a dead ringer...s'all in the eyes..."

"What would the fat hobbitses like to drink, my preciousssss?"

[Breakfast.  Honeymoon's over]

For as much as the Brothers have affection for each other, there is most definitely a reason why none of the alpha males really live close enough to get in each other's pockets.  Make no mistake, Lachlan and Terry were enjoying their holiday, but after two weeks, the house was beginning to feel a bit small.  How is it that men can accept the biggest knocks from their friends like 'hey, mate, broke your ____ while I was arsing about today' or 'lost your ____  I'll get you a new one' without even turning a hair but the small things make them fly off the handle? 

This morning, it was breakfast.

Terry was at the table reading the morning paper and Uma and I were sipping tea and planning which shops we'd hit before the heat of the day chased us back to the water when Lach appeared, freshly showered and looking like he could eat a horse.  Gee, wonder how he worked up such an appetite?  Heh.

His cheerful expression faltered, however, when he saw the pan was empty.  His scowl darkened as a distinctive crunch came from behind the paper.  "You ate the last of the bacon?  Bloody bastard," he grumped.  Men!  They really are carnivores, aren't they?

Terry never even lowered the paper.  "Go get on someone else's tits, Curry."

"Get on this, mate."  Lach stuck his hand into the box beside the stove and launched a small powdered donut at Terry's head.  Uma and I snickered and grinned at each other knowingly, silently adding 'grocery store' to our itinerary.

Terry raised his eyebrows, plucked the donut from the air with a smirk and put the entire thing in his mouth the way only men can.  He chewed and swallowed with relish.  "No more donuts now either, Flipper."  He dusted the powered sugar off his hands and picked the paper back up, opening it with a jaunty little flick and an incredibly mischievous smirk.

Ah, well... let him smirk.  He'd be frowning soon enough when he realized Lachlan was walking out of the kitchen with the last of the beers in his hand.  Breakfast of champions, hey?

[Afternoon stroll]

Heather was painting in the shade of a tree. Terry was diving off shore. Lachlan and I were bored. I had spent most of the day reading and I wanted some exercise, so he suggested we should take a hike along the beach and do some beachcombing. Sounded a great idea. Off we went like two big kids, hand in hand, but the usual teasing to the fore.

The afternoon was still and intensely hot; I had left my sun block and T-shirt behind. Lachlan was wearing shorts and his already brown skin seemed to be turning more golden by the minute, whereas I was going red.

"Lobster on South beach!" Lachlan shouted. I splashed in the water and kicked it all over him. He merely picked me up and waded in further with me in his arms screaming and waving my legs. We fell into the waves and pulled each other under.

"Lach- I am wet now!" I moaned.

"Yeah...water sometimes has that effect, Betty. However- you are also cooler- so stop being such a whingy-arsed Pom."

That was it- I went for his shorts. He held on and flipped my bikini down at the front. All out war. If anyone would have seen us I am sure they would have thought we were about 15 not 35. Eventually I managed to get away from him and paddled out, complaining loudly. He laughed and dived back under the waves to swim out leisurely and then float back while I sat and dried off on a rock in the shade of the overhanging dunes.

Lying back, I tossed back my hair and let the warm air surround me, inhaling that salty briny sea smell mixed with heat, the gentle crash of wave on shore, the distant plaintive cries of seagulls, the sense of utter pleasure that such times bring- like a memory of childhood imbued with the knowledge of an adult.

"Hey...you posing for some sea nymph calendar?" I opened my eyes and looked up at Lachlan. He was watching me stretched out languidly, my legs stroking the contours of the smooth rock, His words might be lighthearted but I could see his expression. Drops of sea water were running down his chest, finding their own helter-skelter down the muscle, pectoral swell, dusting of hair, adding a wet sheen to the golden torso. He looked wonderful: young, virile and intensely male. Even the damp curl to his hair made him seem like a Greek god, some Neptune rising from the waves, his square jaw jutting outwards in masculine beauty.

I said nothing. He lay down beside me on the smooth flat stone, basking on his side, leaning on one arm and looking down at me. He said nothing.

I watched him as he extended his left hand and brushed my hair from my face and then fondled my neck. Neither of us spoke. We just looked at each other. Eye contact. Dangerous power. Stops you from seeing outside- all you see is inside.

Before I could respond, we were kissing, his hands wrapped around my neck, his thumbs stroking my throat. I felt his leg cross mine and his natural tendency to rub against me. My fingers found the elastic of his shorts and eased down the front until I could stroke him. He groaned and jerked against my hand....

"Jesus....what the fuck we doing?" I think I spoke the same moment as he jumped away.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Was all he could manage as he pulled up his shorts and turned his back. I fastened up my bikini-when had it come undone?- and we both sat awkwardly. Back to back.

"I'm sorry, Uma...it just happened...I don't know why...you just looked so lovely lying there...I wanted to touch you..."

"Shut up, Lach, you're making it worse," I stood up. "It's too hot for me, I'm going back. See you later..."

I heard him sigh and mutter something; I turned back to find him walking briskly down the beach away from the house kicking out at a few unfortunate crabs who had chanced the afternoon glare. His back alone told me how he was feeling. Angry with himself, confused, wired. Pretty much how I was feeling, too.

[Playing chess]

I was just about to take a break from painting when I saw Lachlan and Uma stroll down the beach, hand in hand.  The sight made me smile.  Though I am aware they are lovers as well as friends, in that moment, they looked more like kids than anything else.  For all her worldly wisdom, Uma is youthful in spirit as well as appearance.  Watching the two of them, it was easy to imagine the boy Lachlan must have been once. 

I smiled to myself thinking of how even at fourteen or fifteen, he must have charmed the girls back home in Cloncurry.  For all his amiable chatter, Lach doesn't talk much about his past and seeing them together like that was sort of like getting a glimpse back in time.  Terry was watching them too and when he saw me, he waved and motioned for me to come join him in the water.

We had a long swim and an even longer chat.  It was the first time we'd really been alone together since that afternoon we spent together in London.  Everything had been too new then.  Too fresh and raw for us to be able to talk about black knights and white castles.  Floating there, just beyond where the waves break, we found our level again.  Conversation ranged his past to our present to Christmas.... to Dino and Gen.  To the stars and back again.  Seems odd to think for all that has passed between us, we've only had one official visit.  He promised me Scotland.  A length of tartan and Heather in the heather.  A camera.  The thought struck me as funny and I shared it.  Wonder if we'll ever get there.     

Waterlogged and hungry for something salty, we swam back in, intent on raiding the kitchen.  I wanted potato chips.  Terry wanted beer.  He held my hand to steady me through the rough surf and didn't let it go while we made our way back up to the beach house.  It hit me as I was watching the water run from his golden skin, that while I was familiar with his body, I'd never really studied it up close, outside in the bright sunlight before... and now I possessed the knowledge of how he earned the scars he wears with such quiet dignity.

What was a lighthearted and fun moment turned on a dime and my eyes got watery as I traced the worst of his scars with a light touch.  So much pain.  He is such a beautiful man, inside and out.  Having found our level, it was easier to talk about his past now, and we did- for a time.  The conversation was serious but not morose.  How could it be now that he'd cut the stones from his neck?  And to be honest, neither of us wanted to dwell on the shadows in his past now that he was ready to feel the sun on his face. 

He chastely kissed away my tears and in that charmingly boyish way he has (aided no doubt by the beer he'd just downed on an empty stomach) he teased me into giggles with a tour of his less serious scars.  "Chicken pox- age seven.  Here.  Here.  And here."  Lifted his arm.  "Curling iron burn."  He had the grace to look embarrassed.  "Got copped having a perve of my sister when I was eleven."  He rubbed the old faded burn absently.  "She was eighteen and could damn near give Cort a run for his money.  Fast hands." 

"Bet that taught you."

"Only to be better at not getting copped."  Can you imagine?  Terry Thorne on the cusp of puberty?  All those hormones?  Lordy lordy.   

The tour 'round Terry's scars culminated with him whipping off his wet trunks to show me the best one of all.  Dog bite scar on his left buttock.  (Like I hadn't seen that before!)  I don't know which made me laugh harder.  That he was the most proud of that one- or that he told all the girls he got it in the line of duty... when in point of fact- he was bitten while trying to steal apples off the neighbor's tree when he was eight.  He reckons he got what he deserved when they set their dog on him.  Of course, he also told me it was the best apple he'd ever eaten.  Forbidden fruit- how sweet it is! 

I laughed so hard my eyes were wet again and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean into him and hold each other as we laughed- but something changed then.  I suddenly realized I was pressed up against his nude body wearing only a bathing suit and a towel.  I'd seen him nude tons of times since we'd gotten here.  To be honest, none of us had really bothered much with modesty here and it hadn't been a problem- not even once- because it had never been sexual. 

But suddenly it was... as if someone had flipped a switch and there was a wild charge between us, a spark where there had only been friendship and easy camaraderie before.  My arms were around his neck and his were around my waist.  His mouth hovered above mine, close enough I could feel his warm moist breath on my lips.  For a single moment, we stood there, frozen- eyes locked, breathing hard.  I felt my heart thump hard and heard it resonate in my ears.  He stiffened, going tense and rigid where he'd been relaxed and loose only a moment before.

And for the first time since we'd arrived, seeing him naked made me uncomfortable.  And aroused.  There is a time and place for all things.  But not here.  Not now.  He just gave a little, "Right then, that's me, love," in his K and R voice and walked up the stairs without another word.     

[A kitchen interlude with Heather]

"Hi Heather, Terry about?" She jumped sky high when I entered the kitchen. I had left her painting in the shade; she was now at the sink washing something.

"Uma! You startled me. Where's Lach?" Something about her manner puzzled me. Her words were sort of garbled and didn't sound right, can't explain it. I was grouchy enough not to care.

"Down the beach somewhere. I'm going for a shower."

I walked towards the stairs. "Terry's upstairs. I mean, I think he is." I looked at her curiously. She sounded a bit odd. Looked a bit odd too. Her face was pale and sort of pinched. Then I saw them. On the floor at the foot of one of the kitchen chairs. Terry's swim shorts. She saw my eyes look down and then look straight at her. A blush told me all I had to know.

"Cleaning himself up, is he? Or sleeping it off?" 

"Uma...please...." Heather ran and held me by arm lightly. "It wasn't like that...nothing happened...I mean...you know we just got a bit close...we didn't mean to..."

I groaned, realized what a hypocrite I was. "Stop apologizing, Heather. I just came off the beach 'cos Lach and I were too close for comfort. It happens. We are living in very close intimacy here...a lot of nudity ...and the rest. Hot sun, easy living...feeling the impulse...I know...you and Terry are close, me and Lach, too. Once you've known a man...it's always there..."

She nodded. "Thanks for being so straight about it, Uma...we were doing little more than talking really. But it leads to stuff sometimes, you know?"

"I know. Really I do. Me and Lach go all over the place. One minute talking about football and then he's spilling his guts about Marie and then we are talking dirty...all over the place..."

"Marie?" I knew it the moment she repeated the name. Jesus fucking Christ- what had possessed me to say that? I mean, I presumed she knew about her. Or rather it never really occurred to me that Lachlan hadn't told her. Not that I had given it much thought. But I knew the instant that I said the name that she didn't know what I was talking about...

So I try to dig myself out. And dug myself in.

"Nobody. I mean it was his dog. Or somebody else's dog...I can't remember. The squadron mascot. They dressed it up like Betty Grable..."

"Shut up. Stop lying. Who's Marie?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do...are you trying to make out that Lachlan tells you things that he doesn't tell me? Is that what you are trying to say? Score some point 'cos you think I made a pass at Terry?"

"Heather, I didn't mean to say anything. It just slipped out. I thought you knew...."

"I don't know. I knew nothing..."

"Please, Heather, let it be...I've said too much already..." I did the only thing possible. Ran.

[Sleeping it off]

I ran into our bedroom and shut the door. My heart was pounding with that awful feeling you get when you have been a complete idiot and you know you have and it's all your fault and you've really done it now...

"Typical! Just bloody typical. You cause the fucking problem and just lie there snoring!" I threw my sandal at Terry and he woke with a start.

"What?" he grunted. He was lying naked, stretched out on our bed. Post-coital man if I have ever seen him.

"Sometimes I could cheerfully kill you." I stormed out onto the balcony and slammed the French windows shut. Terry emerged a few seconds later, scratching his head.

"What have I done?" He complained.

"Ha!" was all I said. 

"Ha?"

I burst into tears.

"Uma- do I have to work this one out or are you gonna tell me? 'Cos I haven't got a fucking clue what you are on about..."

I sobbed into a beach towel. "I nearly kissed Lachlan on the beach...well, I did kiss him...and I ran off and then I saw Heather in the kitchen and she said you were upstairs and I saw your shorts and I was a bit bitchy and she was upset so I felt bad and I tried to make things OK and then I mentioned Marie and she got upset and I didn't mean to break a confidence 'cos I thought she knew but she obviously didn't and she thought I was doing it on purpose because you and her had sex and then I ran up here and saw you like a bloody fat tom cat sleeping it off so I threw my shoe at you....oh God, what will Lachlan say?..." I had to stop then or asphyxiate.

Terry said "Who had sex with who? And who the fuck's Marie? I haven't got a clue what you're talking about. I'm not sure my grasp of English is good enough to comprehend at that speed either....do you think Heather and I have had sex?"

"Haven't you?"

"No."

"Why did you take your shorts off downstairs?"

"They were wet. And she was looking at my scar..."

"Which scar?"

"My spleen. And then I mentioned the dog bite was the best. We were just mucking about. Christ, love, she's seen my dick before. Like when you pulled my shorts down at breakfast and put Lachlan off his food. For example..." He grinned and pulled me in close. I buried my head against his chest.

"I buggered it up. I can't tell you it all, but once Lachlan told me something in confidence and I've inadvertently spilled the beans. He'll go mad with me. As usual, I have put my big foot in it..."

Terry shook his head and smiled. "He'll get over it. Don't get yourself in a state. Lie down- you've had too much sun. You're tired and grouchy. Come on. Lie down and we'll take a nap. All that imaginary sex wears me out..."

I threw my other sandal at him but we crawled into bed and curled up. "You smell of sea and sand, Tink," he muttered as he spooned against me. Fortunately he didn't mention Lachlan Curry as well.

[Marie]

I could hardly stand to look at him when he returned.  After what Uma had said to me about things getting a little close, I knew just how he'd be.  Fidgety.  Hand in his pockets.  Bouncing a bit.  Swinging his arms.  All that sexual energy bleeding off, leaking away from him in waves.  I could hardly fault him for it as I'd had my own close call with Terry in the kitchen, but to be honest, I just wasn't in to mood to deal with it. 

Not with what Uma had said about 'Marie' still weighing heavily on my mind.  It wasn't the fact that there was a Marie that bothered me.  I don't begrudge Lachlan his past.  In truth, I'm glad his heart has known love and that he's been lucky enough to know the softness women can bring to a man's life.  It wasn't really even that it was that he'd spoken to Uma about another woman as much as it was I felt sad and hurt that there were things about himself he wouldn't share with me.  And yes, it did hurt he could share them with her.

I know I have absolutely no right to feel that way.  I mean Terry and I occasionally share things we don't share with our mates, but it's not like they're a secret or anything.  Everything he tells me he could and probably eventually does tell her- and it's the same with me and Lach.  It's more we share a confidence when we need to talk but don't want to burden the others with our fears when we need to be strong or supportive rather than needy.  And to be brutally honest, the simple truth is both of us could survive if the other turned away in disgust and I know losing Uma would break him as surely as losing Lachlan would break me. 

I was uncomfortable, restless while Lachlan showered.  No steam from the bathroom.  A cold shower then.  That knowledge didn't help my mood.  I just couldn't get over the way Uma had backpedaled when she mentioned Marie's name.  Sixth sense.  Intuition.  Observation.  Call it what you like, but I knew in my heart if I asked Lachlan about Marie the answer wasn't going to be something as simple as 'a girl I once fancied in school' or 'a good mate's kid sister'.  If that was the case, letting her name slip wouldn't have flustered Uma so.

I felt stuck.  I think if we'd been anywhere except trapped in this house together, I would have waited for Lachlan to bring her up- if he ever did.  But here, all stuck under one roof?  I knew if we didn't clear the air a bit about this, sweeping it under the rug would only serve to make us all uncomfortable.  Uma was already weird about it.  I was unsure and uneasy.  Lachlan seemed blissfully ignorant.  Terry would no doubt pick up on the strained vibe, if he hadn't already when Uma went racing up the stairs.  All in all, not a very good climate for a relaxing vacation.  I followed him into the bathroom and found him looking at himself in the mirror with an odd expression on his face.            

I watched him a little while before I finally spoke.  "Who is Marie, Lachlan?"  

Who would have believed the worst fight we ever had would have begun with such a simple, quiet question?  To be honest, I half expected him to tell me she was a girl from his past, that he didn't want to talk about it anymore- and just leave it at that.  I could have accepted that.  There were things in my past I would prefer not to delve into, but I also wouldn't hide them from him if he asked.  Warts and all or what's the point?  Especially now.         

I literally saw him stiffen at my words and when he turned, there was a tic in his cheek as he asked me where I'd heard that name.  I answered him.  We fought.  The details aren't important.  He stormed out and a few minutes later, I heard his voice, raised in anger.  Uma.  I winced.  He came back in about an hour later, smelling of smoke and bourbon.  This time we talked instead of fought but while we resolved some things, he never did reveal anything about Marie.  And that night, after all the day's ups and downs, we spoke again... but when darkness fell, I slept alone... and Lachlan?  I don't think he slept at all. 

[Lachlan throws a benny]

I didn't sleep for long. I felt restless and ill at ease and I think I had a slight nightmare. Or daymare. Whatever. It didn't help that Terry was out for the count and his hot body wrapped round me was making me sweat. I got up and took a shower but he was still deeply asleep. Slipping on shorts and a little top, snatching up my bag, I thought of going outside onto the patio to curl up in the shade and have a read. It is shady there in the afternoon and one of my favourite nooks in the house.

There was no one downstairs although I knew Lachlan was back- I could hear him talking to Heather upstairs. Shortly after, I was well into my novel and at last beginning to relax.

Suddenly the screen doors opened and Lach stormed out, swore, paced forward, paced back, swore and lit a cigarette up. Then he saw me curled up in the large rattan seat. He was surprised but quickly recovered. "Well, if it isn't the little town crier herself. Have you got no sense at all? How could you tell her? How could you tell her?"

"I'm sorry, Lach... it just came out... I don't know why I said it... I just didn't think..."

"That's your bloody problem. You never think. Just open your silly mouth and let any old rubbish pour out..." I threw my book down.

"That is not fair. I just apologised. I feel awful. I made a mistake and I am sorry. Don't be so cruel. Maybe if you told her what she should know then this wouldn't have happened..."

Lachlan stopped and stared at me. He ran his hand through his hair as if he needed to do something with his excess frustration. "Don't you dare tell me what I should and shouldn't do! This was none of your business anyway." His voice was loud and beginning to lose its cool.

"You told me. I didn't ask you to." I put my hands on my hips and defended my corner.

He took a step towards me and then stopped. "Well, it's the last time I ever trust you with anything again, that's for sure..." I tossed my head petulantly at him, picked up my beach bag and ran off down the steps. I had heard enough.

[The craftshop]

I wandered aimlessly down to the local village lost in thought. I just felt so generally awful. I just couldn't believe that I had made such terrible error of judgement. The whole idyllic week was ruined now and I'll bet Terry gives me an earful when he gets to know exactly what I did. Heather must really hate me and Lachlan is so angry; I expect they have fought and are not talking now and the evening will be a disaster. The best thing for everyone is if I simply keep out of the way. No one will miss me. I continued in that vein of feeling sorry for myself.

The village was just a collection of beachfront shops and boarding houses, nothing much of interest, surviving on surfers and passing trade. At the end of a row of stores, there was an open door that led into a small workshop. At the entrance was a wooden board with the legend 'Seacraft' .I was curious and entered. It was shady inside the outer room, which seemed to be a store for equipment and half finished products drying off or awaiting some treatments. I passed through into the yard at the back and there I bumped into a man in his fifties wearing a pair of tie-dye loose pants and a bright orange vest. His grey hair was pulled into a pony tail. "Hello, love, you browsing? Come on through..."

Tim 'Timbo' Broadbank was an artist or an artisan or rather somewhere between the two. His shop was an esoteric collection of all sorts of paraphernalia: paintings, sculptures, pottery, shell ornaments, driftwood carvings, garish hand printed T-shirts to name but a few. You could pick up a cheap gift or a more pricey original work. I browsed around; I love that kind of Aladdin's cave of a place.

Timbo was settled cross-legged in one corner of the room working on a carving; his girlfriend- a big breasted earth mother called Sushila with her long blonde hair in dreadlocks, fed a baby while two scruffy but healthy looking children played around her feet. They were like throwbacks from a different age- he was clearly a child of the sixties and had found himself a younger counterpart who liked the alternative lifestyle.

We might have been millions of miles apart in outlook but I have always had a sneaking admiration for people who have the courage to opt out and exist without the comforts of the modern world. I know I haven't got the ability to hack it. Timbo and Sushila were just completely guileless and open; I can't imagine that they ever made much money if they welcomed every potential customer as though she were an old friend. I was given a glass of homemade lemon juice, some homemade cookies and they didn't seem at all bothered if I bought anything or not.

I sat down and watched Timbo... and the Sushila tied the baby into a sort of papoose and asked me if I wanted to try my hand at batik painting. She led me to a large table where there were cloths stretched over frames. She laid a fish stencil over one and trickled wax around the edge to make the outline and then showed me how I might daub in the bright colours to make a marine life painting. I am not an artist by any means, but I do love messing; I was soon in my element. Sushi and I were chatting away and I was telling her all about my bloke and his brother and Heather and what a great holiday we were having and she was filling me in with the weird and wonderful story of how she had come to this hippie existence.

Time just slipped by as I think everyday did for them. They were just living for the moment and seemed to have no thought for tomorrow or even where the evening meal was coming from. Before I knew it, it was early evening and the heat of the day was dissipating. That's when the Seventh Cavalry arrived.

I heard Terry's voice before I actually saw him. He was in the outer workshop, addressing Timbo...

"Don't happen to have seen a British woman this arvo, mate? Tall, slim, dark haired..."

"You forgot pretty, man...reckon you mean Uma...yeah, she's inside with the old lady...you her old man? Terry, isn't it? I'm Timbo...want a joint?"

"How do you do...Tim...no, mate, I'll pass on the weed, if you don't mind."

"Up to you, friend."

Next minute they walked through and I could see Terry was both anxious and annoyed; he had on his professional visage - which is usually masking something. "Terry....I have had a great time...meet Sushila....look I've been batik painting!"

"Yeah, great and we've searching the whole area for you. Do you ever stop to think?"

I blushed and busied myself with clearing the work area..." Is it OK if I come back tomorrow when it's dry? I'll sort out what I owe you then and buy a few gifts...sorry if I have to dash..."

"You go, no worries, catch you whenever. And Terry, man, take it easy, eh? You'll live longer," Sushi made a peace sign at him and he forced a smile. I could have kicked him- why does he do that? They would think him such a stiff.

I thanked him and he hustled me out, his arm around my waist but a little too quickly for comfort- enough for me to know I was being chastised. "What are you playing at?..." he grunted down my ear. "...We've been out of our fucking minds...Curry was even thinking of calling the coastguard. Heather's been in tears all afternoon. I've been worried sick, driving around this entire place...not to mention the shit that you caused earlier...are you trying to be all melodramatic and prima donna? Well, it's not fucking funny. You've spoiled the entire day..."

I opened my mouth to reply but thought better of it. It was just not my day. I had actually managed accidentally to solve the problem. Upset Heather. Annoyed Lachlan...no doubt they fought...worried Terry...frightened everyone else...they put aside their differences and started blaming me. Ergo, I have restored calm - as long as I eat the sin. It wouldn't be the first time...and even if I do feel rather hard done by...there are so many times I've got away with it...suppose I deserve it really. Only one thing left open to me. I turned to Terry.

"I'm so sorry, Terry..." and I started to cry. He hasn't a chance has he, poor bastard?

[Shadow walker]

The following morning, I came downstairs and found Lachlan asleep on the couch.  He had faint blue smudges under his eyes and his skin was cool to the touch.  I covered him with a throw and noticed his laptop open on the coffee table beside a full ashtray and a nearly empty bottle of Jim Beam.  There was a note beside it, penned in his messy scrawl.

Blue-

You're right.  Warts and all.  Read this.  Share it with Betty when you're ready.  I made a tit of myself with her too and the honest truth is she knows little more than you- and only because I couldn't bear the thought of how you might look at me after you knew the truth.  Do with it what you will after that.  No more shadows. 

Ever and always,

Lach 

I open the file and was shocked.  There had to be twenty pages here.  He must have been writing all night.  When I'd finished reading it, I felt.... too full- like if I opened my mouth my heart might jump from behind my teeth.  I had a visceral, emotional reaction to the words he'd written.  My hands shook.  I couldn't even cry. 

I think some things run too deep for tears.  

I simply crawled up next to him on the couch, reduced to speaking in the most basic human language.  Touch.  Looking back, think he knew from the first brush of my hand that I'd read his story.  That morning, we spoke only in Lachlan's beautiful silent language.  We made love right there, slowly, deliberately.  We held each other for a long time afterwards, cradling the fragile heart of our love between us.  His heart beat strong and steady under my cheek.  So vital and alive.  So much love to give.  I was humbled that such a man would choose to join his life with mine.

Something unique seemed to happen in the aftermath- the four of us seemed to finally settle into place with each other and ourselves.  A solid foundation to weather whatever storms might come.  Like the four elements, earth, air, fire, water- bound together by that elusive fifth element- heart. 

Two nights later, we had a bonfire on the beach under the stars and left orange blossoms floating on the water in memory.  Strangely enough, it was the least poetic of us who had the best words to offer that night, borrowed from one Robert Frost and given in quiet benediction.  It was terry's voice that supported us all, I think, as the tide pulled the flowers away from shore.

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life.  It goes on."     

[Mood shots]

"Hey, Heather...I just read your Bud diary about the painting. It's fantastic. I was thinking...Why don't you paint the guys?...I know you must have done Lachlan loads of times but have you ever painted Terry?"

It was raining and we were stuck inside, watching interminable sports' matches. "Doubt if they'd ever sit still or shut their mouths long enough to get a good atmosphere. And look at them... Men at their most basic, semi naked, sprawled out watching the TV. Lacks a certain soul, if I may say so," Heather replied almost without looking up.

"Hey...who are you calling a slob?" Lachlan murmured, whilst stuffing his face with Nachos.

We exchanged a look. 

Suddenly Terry piped up- I hadn't even known he was listening. "You know what we ought to do seeing as we have a real artist in our midst?" Then he paused.

"Do you intend to tell us or is this 'Twenty Questions?'" Lachlan asked wryly.

He rolled back and looked over at us. "We've been snapping like crazed paparazzi all holiday. I've got a real camera upstairs. How about some real arty shots, ya know? Ones we can actually frame and hang on a wall? Bet Heather could set up a real moody atmosphere, black and white film... and do us proud. And we would be able to fit them into the adverts..."

Sometimes he is inspired. Everyone thought that was a great idea and Terry went off and brought out his 35mm complete with stand and all the accoutrements. Heather chose one of the bedrooms with the balcony doors open and the men carried a small two-seater couch up. She spent an hour or so messing with light and shadow until she was ready. The rain had eased and the sun had broken through but it was still cooler than usual. A breeze was blowing the voile drapes on the balcony doorway. Heather reckoned it was even more atmospheric than the usual dappled sunlight.

Those pictures we took are really special. We all had a go and used up a few rolls- many were not very good, -but the ones that were will remain in my heart forever. Heather and Lachlan sitting on the balcony, Heather on his knee, her arms around his neck and her head thrown back, laughing at something he had said. He was in profile but intent on her, his hands soft on her waist. Such an unguarded moment, enhanced by the shadowy grain of black and white film - and giving it an aura of the past. Of his time.  Another picture had him lying back on the couch, his head tilted up to look up at Heather as she passed by, his hand extended to grasp hers and pull her into him.  Like he was trying to tell her something with his touch.  Reckon he was. 

Heather took one of me and Terry- just a simple pose, nothing much. But when we saw it we were both surprised. I was leaning my back against his chest- he had his arms round me. I was looking up at him and he was looking down at me. We appeared quite serious, although I remember I was actually listening to him and not at all ready for the shot. But it looks deeper and more profound somehow. Like we are lost in each other's eyes. His hands on my body are both protective and somehow needy. As if we were both giving the other some moral support. It was uncanny; we both said the same thing when we looked at it later. There was another of us kissing- a silhouette of us together, lips barely touching bodies close, fitting together. It was hauntingly lovely, like a still moment frozen in time which told of before and after, past and future. It made me cry on a cold wet day when the prints reached me later in London.

[Early morning hotel buffet... with glitter and sparks on the menu]

I knew that body glitter was trouble when I first saw it.  But for once, I could claim complete innocence.  Tink and I?  We'd been good little boys and girls last night.  She'd had too much sun and a bit of a dizzy spell that led to us spending a quiet evening in, curled up in bed, resting and watching TV while the two youngsters hit the town and painted it red.  Glittering red, by the looks of them. 

Caught of glimpse of them as they were leaving last night.  Flipper all duded up and Heather in this sexy little cocktail dress with a hint of glitter at her cleavage and dusted across the small of her back.  Curry couldn't take his eyes off her.  Smart lad.  Dunno when they got back in... must not have been too long ago, though.  Both of them looked as if they'd been raised from the dead-and that wasn't the half of it. 

I was feeling particularly virtuous, shaved and showered, sharp as a button and looking quite dapper, I must say.  Tink was fresh faced and looking like an angel, eyes bright and alert as she sipped at her tea... nothing like the two of them, walking like zombies through the buffet.  Glittering zombies.  I should have just let them sleep it off, but you know me.  I am not about to subvert my morning's entertainment for anyone.  Especially since I'd been such a good lad the night before.  Man's got to take his fun were he can find it. 

And you all know I was getting a good laugh over the pair of them this morning.  Heather looked asleep on her feet and Curry was completely unaware he appeared to be wearing most of Heather's glitter.  As a matter of fact, the pair of them looked dusted with it.  Bleary eyed, hair mussed up, Heather's skin worn pink from Curry's beard and if I wasn't mistaken, he had a faint bite mark on the side of his neck.  I didn't even bother hiding my smile.

"Are you going to tell them... or should I?"  Clearly, Tink was enjoying herself too as she'd waited until they were away from the table before asking.        

"Tell them?  Not on your life, love.  This is loads more fun."  You could see the pair of them sparkle from across the room.  Tink nearly wet herself as they stumbled back to the table.  The closer they got, the more Curry sparkled.  "So, tell me.... when exactly did the world change from black and white to color, mate?"

He didn't even respond.  I don't think Heather even heard me.  She looked well loved and happy but in serious need of a good long kip.  She put her tray down-one measly piece of toast and a cup of steaming tea.  Curry's was piled high.  Worked up an appetite, had he?  I couldn't help myself.  "Guess who had his nose in the gravy last night?"

"You do look remarkably... bright... this morning, Lach."  Tink was beside herself, laughter pouring out of her eyes, but you have to give the girl credit, she is a master.  Christ, you could almost hear her sharpening her tongue. 

"Well, getting your head down for a few hours works wonders for a man, Tink."  As she well knew.  We shared a secret smile. 

Curry finally looked up.  "Am I missing something?  You two think you're a double act?"  He scratched at his beard absently and little sparkles flew like dust motes in the early morning sunshine, eventually coming to rest on table. 

Heather didn't even notice.  Tink did, though, and I could feel her slender shoulders shake with laughter where she was pressed up against my side.  Lach dug back into the mountain of food before him and I simply couldn't leave it alone.  "Christ, mate, you eating for three?  Or was that last night?"

I felt Tink shudder.  "Terry, if he eats one more egg, I am going to throw up."

"If he eats one more egg, he's going to throw up."

Curry just smiled and asked Heather if she was going to eat the piece of toast on her plate.  Heather blinked and looked at him as if she had finally woken up and was seeing him for the first time.  She slid her toast to his plate and handed him her tea.  "Might as well take that too... I'm too tired to drink it."  She fished the keycard from Curry's pocket and stood, a little frown forming on her brow as she looked at his face, kissed his cheek and left with a parting shot that had us falling about in laughter.  "Nice glitter, wingnut."

I looked at Tink.  She looked at me.  We waited for it.  Took a few seconds for it to register and we knew the second it did.  "Bloody hell, mate... you could have told me, ya bastard."

"And deprive myself of my morning fun?"  I snorted.  "Ever heard of checking the mirror in the morning?  Apparently not..."  I could afford to gloat.  Hadn't I been the very soul of discretion last night?  "I think we can all tell what you were looking at this morning, mate."  The evidence was all over him.  And her.  "And I highly doubt it was a mirror...."

Gotta give it to him though.  He just smiled this contented smile and sauntered off for a second helping with a cocky little swagger that had me wondering just how good his night had been.  Oh, to be young again....