Day One,
Afternoon: En route to Bangor, Maine.
Such an exciting day. Gordon over the moon about how the wedding had gone, "a
not unpleasant experience" he reckoned. The airline upgraded us to Club Class with
free champagne! I spend the flight watching the clouds go by while Gordon assists the
captain in working out a more cost-effective flight plan for our trip to Bangor.Day One, Evening.
Our hotel looks out across the expanse of Cape Cod. A soft sea breeze blows gently
through our bedroom window. I shower and put on my nightgown and slip between cool cotton
sheets. Fall asleep sometime after three am to the sound of Gordon gently caressing the
keys of his lap top.
Day Two, morning.
Such a romantic setting. After breakfast, time for a walk. The beaches of Cape Cod
seem to stretch for ever, with hardly another person in sight, with only the calling of
seagulls for company. It’s a place of quiet contemplation, a world to share with a
loved one. Back at the hotel, Gordon seems pleased to see me and promises to have a quick
look at the beach before the end of the holiday. I plunder the hotel's magazine selection
while Gordon goes back to helping the manager re-install the on-line reservation system
which, according to Gordon has "quite unacceptable lag times." |
Day Two,
Afternoon.
A leisurely lunch. Catch sight of Gordon waving cheerily as he whitewashes the
hotel's wooden frontage. Nothing to watch on TV, I nap on our bed until wakened by Gordon
in the late afternoon. His body smells of salt, sand and fresh sweat drying on his skin.
He looks deep into my eyes and I feel myself open to him as I sense his excitement.
"Look at this" he breathes heavily. I look, it’s a piece of paper. "I
got the Treasury to fax the figures through this morning, look at that, the current
account revenue figures are looking very promising."Fuckin' seagulls are still fuckin' squawking.
Day Three, Evening.
Find a local bar, full of randy fishermen, get drunk go home with Clyde.
Day Four, Morning.
Get back to the hotel, late morning. Gordon's left a note. He's out for the day
working on the buildup of green algae in the tidal basin of the Cape, should be back late
today, early tomorrow at the latest. I borrow the hotel rifle and spend the afternoon
shooting bastard seagulls.
Day Five: En route to London.
I've given up. I tried to explain to Gordon that this wasn't going to work out but
the satellite phone link to his oceanographic survey ship keeps breaking up. I sit back in
my seat as the aircraft prepares to take off. To the side of the runway a seagull wheels
lazily against the blue Maine sky. Bastard seagulls. |
