of light that didn’t include the platter beside her. The waiter brought two more tiny candlelights but she still couldn’t see what she was eating. ‘So this is a taste sensation, not a visual one?’
He laughed, deep and amused, and she felt like a trickle of that cool sand under her feet had slid down her back and along her arms. Well, she was on a beach. It was okay. But she had a strong premonition there was more trickling sand to come.
‘Want to see your dinner?’ She watched him shift his body and reach into his pocket and then suddenly there was a blinding flash.
She rubbed her eyes. He laughed again. ‘Sorry. Should’ve warned you.’ His smile beamed in the night as her vision began to recover and he handed her his camera. ‘It looks like this.’
Bonnie’s meal was captured for posterity and illuminated clearly on the camera screen. ‘You’re really a do-now-think-later kinda guy, aren’t you?’ But she could see a long barbecued fish, brown and crunchy, and one gruesome eye. She wished she hadn’t seen that but at least she wouldn’t accidentally eat it in the dark. She shuddered.
‘The less thinking the better,’ he said cryptically, then went on. ‘The ones in the shells are mussels, and despite the thought if you’re not a shellfish eater, they taste wonderful. King prawns, calamari on skewers, crab and lobster meat piled on the side. And the green salad.’
It was all recognisable now. Actually, quite a neat trick to take the photo, she acknowledged, at least to herself. ‘Obviously you’ve used this in the dark before.’
He tucked the camera away in his pocket. ‘Too many times on my own. I’m glad you came.’
‘So am I.’ She was. And feeling more relaxed. Bonnie didn’t think it was the beer, though maybe it had more of a kick than he was letting on, but the atmosphere here would make anyone feel good.
Smiling Balinese waiters, the muted wash of the waves just a few feet away, candles all around them and brighter lights in the distance. Every now and then a plane took off or landed at Ngurah Rai airport across the water and the stars had started to shine more brightly as the night deepened. ‘This is pretty cool. Thank you for bringing me.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Her coconut drink arrived and even in the dark it looked huge. ‘Do you want me to take a photo of that so you can see it?’
She thought of the brightness of the flash and the disruption of the mood. ‘I can guess. It’s not worth the eye pain.’ She picked it up and the milk inside sloshed. ‘I’ll never finish this.’
‘That’s why I only bought one. Drink what you fancy and leave the rest. I’ll finish it so you don’t feel guilty.’
There was something disturbing about the thought of him drinking from her straw, too easy to picture and not without sensory ramifications. She turned the conversation.
‘The stars are amazing.’
‘Bit too much light here to do them justice.’
‘I love stars but wish I knew more about them.’
‘I’m not much better,’ he said, and they both glanced up then down at each other and for some reason they both laughed. The beginnings of a dangerous rapport. They both sobered.
Bonnie broke the silence. ‘So what do you do while you’re over here?’ She took a sip and the strong flavour of coconut overlaid the beer.
He attacked his meal as if he wanted distance from that moment too. ‘Nothing.’
He paused as if waiting for her to say how terrible to drift between jobs, but she wasn’t going to.
For a short time, nothing would be great. And that pastime would be as far away from Jeremy as possible. Her ex didn’t know anything about cultivating stillness. The longer they were parted the better she was feeling, except she’d learned a very valuable lesson about people who lied.
‘So you don’t get bored?’ She took another bite and chewed while she waited. The fish melted in her mouth and the tang of lime made her sigh with bliss.
He put down his fork. ‘Not yet. I do a bit of diving up at Lovina, some surfing.’
She picked up the coconut again. This meal was a symphony of different flavours and she was glad she hadn’t chickened out. Surfing, diving, eating on beaches. Sounded idyllic. For a while. ‘Do you do anything constructive? What’s your profession? Your job when you’re not surfing?’
Anything worthwhile? His raised eyebrows noted the observation that lay unspoken between them, but still the question had popped out and mentally she shrugged. Well, she did want to know because surfing and scuba diving wasn’t a lifestyle, especially if he was trained to do something useful, or had done in the past.
She’d been devastated by her love life bombing out but she hadn’t given up her life to hide in a distant country. No. If she was honest, she’d hidden in work. Which was the reverse of what he’d done, she supposed.
He was silent for a few beats. ‘Sometimes I build things, work in the fields every now and then. And I’m studying yoga.’
The last thing she would have connected with him but then, he did occasionally give off restful vibes. ‘I can’t quite see you and yoga together.’ She thought about it some more. ‘So you’re going to be a yoga teacher? I guess both our professions are about health.’
‘No. I’m studying it for myself.’
She laughed. He amused her, he really did. ‘Selfish ‘R’ Us? Who will look after you if you don’t?’
‘That’s right.’ He sat back in his seat and smiled. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d say he was relieved by her amusement.
She couldn’t imagine not having work to take her mind off the rest. ‘So what about your parents? What do they think of you growing old on an island?’
‘They’re both dead.’
Oops. ‘I’m an orphan too. It sucks.’ She really didn’t want to talk about this and wasn’t sure why she was except she felt somehow responsible for the conversation. ‘My mum died when I was twelve. Never knew my father and my gran brought me up. She died three months ago. I nursed her at home.’ And my sleazy fiancé slept with his ex and stole all my money while I was busy. But she was getting over that. Really.
‘Tough, but special. So you normally work as a midwife?’
‘Mostly. I trained in Darwin, did a little time in ICU, but mostly a midwife. I love working remote in short stints but you miss out on the births mostly that way.’
She speared another succulent piece of fish. ‘And you, before you came here?’
‘Different things. None of them useful.’ Slam. She felt the whoosh from the shutting door. Now she wished she’d shut her mouth. She kept it closed in case something else came out that she’d regret and ate another piece of fish and left him with the silence. He’d caused it.
Harry had a pretty good idea what she was thinking. Well, what could he say? She wasn’t getting the truth. Oh, did medicine, fell in love, lost wife and child because I
