Free Far Horizon by Tony Park Page B

never have.’
    â€˜Good for you. The work you do is worthwhile, but I think it will never be finished,’ she said. As she spoke she prodded Mike’s painfully swollen big toe with various implements that looked to him like they had been designed and manufactured during the Spanish Inquisition.
    She bit her lower lip as she concentrated. ‘Big,strong man like you does not need anaesthetic, I think. Better we save it for the injured little children, no?’ Mike realised, as he winced in pain, that her question was rhetorical.
    â€˜Not even a bullet to bite on?’ he gasped.
    She shook her head.
    His adventure in pain finally over, he had found he was still tongue-tied as she bandaged his throbbing toe, but he was saved by a bird.
    As Isabella had finished tying the bandage, a grey bird, about the size of a seagull, but with a large, fanned crest, landed on the windowsill and gave a whining call from the other side of the ragged flyscreen. Kway-kway , it mourned.
    â€˜What do you want, bird? I see him every day, you know, and always he talks to me like this,’ Isabella said to both Mike and the bird as she removed her latex gloves with a snap.
    â€˜He’s telling you to go away,’ he said.
    â€˜What do you mean, go away? He is the one who should go away.’
    â€˜It’s a grey lourie – a male. He is called the “go-away” bird because of his call. Listen.’ They both stayed silent and the bird gave his call again.
    â€˜It sounds like something else to me,’ she said, as the lourie took off, perhaps unnerved by their sudden interest in him. ‘Like those lizards, the one’s that say “fuck you”,’ she added, utterly deadpan. She had watched his face for a reaction. He had laughed aloud.
    She then asked him how he knew about the bird and, when he explained, tested him by pointing out a few more at random from the window. He stood, andto see the birds, all of which he identified correctly, he had to stand so close to her that they were almost touching. He smelled the perspiration on her body and the shampoo on her hair. For a second he felt like he needed to sit down, and he didn’t think it was the loss of blood from his wound.
    â€˜I’ve been here in Africa for nearly a year and, do you know, I know no birds and I have not seen any animals at all. Not even an elephant. Have you seen an elephant, Major?’ she asked.
    They had moved away from the window and he was now lacing his boot. She sat on the edge of the cheap steel desk, her legs swinging like a little girl’s as she filled out some details on her clipboard.
    â€˜I’ve seen plenty of elephants, and lion and leopard and buffalo, you name it.’
    â€˜Here in Mozambique?’
    â€˜No, in the bush here all you see are snakes and landmines.’
    She laughed. ‘So you have been on the safari?’
    â€˜I’m a trained safari guide.’
    â€˜Tell me how an Australian soldier becomes a safari guide.’
    â€˜Over dinner. It’s a long story,’ he had said, as he stood to leave, testing the weight on his bad foot. Instinctively, he reached in his top pocket and drew out his cigarettes and Zippo lighter.
    â€˜Those things will kill you, you know,’ she said, changing the subject.
    â€˜Not as quickly as a landmine,’ he replied. He feared he had been too forward in inviting her to dinner, and had blown his chances.
    She smiled and said, ‘May I?’ She reached for the packet of cigarettes in his hand. Soft, clean fingers had brushed his as she took one from the pack. ‘Come, I walk with you outside.’
    As they stood in the strong morning sunshine she raised the cigarette to her lips and leaned towards him. He lit both their cigarettes.
    She reclined against the grubby white concrete of the building, cocked her head to one side and said, ‘You ask me out to dinner, but how do you know I’m not