The Geography of Friendship by Sally Piper

Author:Sally Piper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Queensland Press
Published: 2018-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

Last time when they crossed the wetland the track had taken them round the fringe of coastal lagoon, the safe-looking tufted peaks of swamp-mat and brookweed proved an illusion of high, dry ground though. More often than not they collapsed under Samantha’s weight and her boots sunk into the mud. They ended up caked in the stuff. Several times the peat-rich mire was reluctant to give up her boot again. When it did, it was with sucking, kissing sounds.

She remembers how the murky water released a symphony of plops and splashes. Water skaters left hovercraft wakes across its surface. The air vibrated with the manic whir of cicadas and there was a steady drone of petrol-coloured dragonflies. Stealthy sandflies left red welts on bare skin. Mosquitoes whined round her head. Her slaps rang out like the crack of dry timber. The air smelt of wet dog.

Once again, the body of water is as busy as a city with insect life. But now Samantha’s boots clatter across a timber boardwalk that’s been erected over the swamp. She’s high and dry. Protected. Safe. It’s a reprieve from the steep climbs of yesterday.

Change isn’t always as obvious as these new planks of wood though. Sometimes it comes about in small imperceptible shifts, till one day, you think: Hold on, how did that happen?

The changes to her marriage have occurred like this. Slowly. Insidiously. Small shifts and adjustments unknowingly made till they’re normalised.

She recalls a day when Harry rested his hand on the back of her chair in her home office. The fabric is badly worn from the years he’s done this. Sometimes she thinks about how she’d have one shoulder lower than the other if he rested it there instead. But he doesn’t.

‘You haven’t billed the right work to the McGovern job,’ he said, and pointed to the computer screen.

‘Haven’t I?’

‘Looks like you’ve mixed it up with the Miller job. Here, let me find it.’ He bent forward, gripped the mouse and scrolled down.

He’d just got out of the shower. He smelt of Dove soap and his hair was still damp. Samantha felt the coolness of it alongside her face. He was so close that she turned and kissed him, soft as a breath on his cheek.

He didn’t react or pause in what he was doing. ‘Miller. Miller. It’s gotta be here somewhere.’

She kissed him again, but this time she left her lips on his cheek for a moment. His skin was warm and freshly shaved smooth. It smelt faintly of Gillette shaving cream. It is a scent so familiar that she instinctively finds it calming.

He continued to scroll down. ‘Ah, here it is,’ he said.

She took his chin in her hand and turned his face towards hers. ‘And here I am.’

He looked at her for a moment, this shape in the room. She saw his confusion at what he should do or say.

‘So you are,’ he said and stood tall again. He returned his hand to the back of her chair. She felt it sink a little under the weight of it.

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