Michael – Twenty WeeksI'm enjoying the view. Looking over the sea, the sand and the dunes is pretty good. Watching Beth and Charlotte sitting together exchanging pregnancy notes and gossip is even better.Then the peace is broken...Raised voices...No... not exactly raised... but determined... Angry even...And without a hint that either party intends to back down.Who is it?I cock an ear...James and... Ross??What on earth would they be arguing about?The girls both turn, Charlotte's eyes wary, Beth's worried.Putting my drink down, "I'll see what's happening. You two stay here." I follow the palaver back inside, meeting Richard en-route, who looks as baffled as I feel. "What the hell would those two argue about?""Not a clue. We'd better see what's going on."And together we track the racket to the kitchen where James and Ross are manoeuvring for position around the table like a pair of bull elephants with toothache.Ross slams an onion down onto a
Klempner - ThailandIs that him?Pushing the spectacles up my nose, across the dining room, I survey the entrance lobby and the group just entering. Three men, all Hispanic types plus a blowsy-looking female cramming a size-sixteen body into a size-twelve dress. No. He'd never be with a woman looking like that.The hotel is classy-looking, expensive. It should be considering what I paid.Air-con whispers over the assembled diners. They murmur, telling themselves they're enjoying the high life as they eat over-priced meals. The food's good but considering some of the slums not so far away, and the money some of the locals get by on, the prices are offensive.Odd... There was a time that wouldn't have occurred to me...I sit reading my tablet, propped up by a jug of oil and another of chilli sauce. Occasionally, I fork up prawns and rice in a vivid green sauce. Fragrant with garlic, limes and cilantro, it should be stirring my appetite, but my attention is elsewhere.Thi
James - Twenty WeeksStretched out on a lounger: I enjoy hot sunshine, the whisper of a quiet sea, a good book and on a tray by me, a jug and glasses, chilly enough to drip dew.Perfect.Close by, Richard doing much the same. Change my book for his newspaper and there's not much to choose between us.He scans the financial news. A quick look sidelong at his headlines...Markets rise...Boom in housebuilding...Richard Hmmms in satisfaction, then refolds the paper to read the international section.Drugs trafficking, Afghanistan...Organised crime, Thailand...Gang violence, Columbia...Can't they ever tell a good news story?Charlotte's taken up her accustomed post by the edge of the pool, dabbling her toes, watching Michael and Beth...Is she going to join them?But she seems quite happy simply to watch.She's so beautiful.My Jade...And my daughter... so far, only a smooth curve to her mother's belly. Beth's pregnancy is even less visible.Beside
James - Twenty-Nine WeeksWhat's she looking for?Standing in the kitchen doorway, I watch as Charlotte, her back to me, rummages through the shelves of the store cupboard.The latest tee-shirt is already tight, rolling up a little over her expanded waistline as she stretches upwards. Muttering to herself, she works through tins and jars then, with an audible Mmmm... takes a plastic container from the top shelf. Unclipping the lid, she extracts a slab of chocolate brownie.Caught in the act."That will be your third this morning, Charlotte."She jolts, looking over her shoulder at me, pressing fingers to her mouth as she chews then gulps. "Michael brought them over from the hotel for me when I said I fancied something sweet."Stepping across to her, I take the cake from her hand and replace it in the box, minus one bite. "He brought enough for everyone. I don't think he intended you to eat the lot yourself."She drops her eyes. "If you don't want me to eat them," she mu
James - Thirty-Two WeeksI perch a hip on an old stone wall, looking down the mountain, the meadows, the lake. The weather is fine and warm; late Summer drawing into Autumn and...Life is good.I have the woman I love, friendship, money, rewarding work, a wonderful home and, in only a few months, a new baby daughter. I raise my glass in a silent toast.Looking forward to meeting you Cara...My cup overflows.Where's Charlotte?I'd like her with me, just to share this moment.Heaving myself upright, I go in search of her. I move easily. With the sunshine, even my bad leg is behaving itself.I find her in the restaurant, by the big picture window that looks down the mountain to the lake, Charlotte sits between Michael's Gran, his Aunty Edna and another of the tribe that I don't recognise...Or do I? I have trouble separating out the legion of old harpies occupying the upper echelons of Michael's family, but I do vaguely recall Michael threatening me with a nasty
Klempner - ThailandI set out early, catching the sunrise and making the most of what passes for the cool of the dawn here. Even given the purpose of my trek, I can take the time to look around and appreciate the beauty of my surroundings.I've travelled pretty much everywhere that is reachable without being Shackleton or Hillary, and while it is something I enjoy, the actual 'travel' part of travelling is usually uninteresting. There's only so much variety in cabins and airports.But this is different.There is something about walking: hiking to your destination, connecting with the landscape, that makes the journey more real. And it doesn't get any realer than it is here.So early in the day, hiking up the trail through verdant forest, high up the mountain; sun-slanted mist weaves through the canopy.Trail over-plays the track I'm following. No human laid this route. Some animal probably made it, but of course, most of them are much closer to the ground than I am. From my
James – Thirty-Five WeeksI stride into the kitchen fanning smoke away from my face.Charlotte stands by the grill, the pan a grisly mess of soot and curled-up charcoal.She bursts into tears. "I burned the toast."Briskly dipping a tea-towel into the sink, I drape it over the grill-pan, then pull her into a hug. "It's not a disaster. No harm's been done. And we can afford another loaf." I guide her to the table. "Now sit down and I'll make you some more toast. What would you like on it? Honey? Marmalade? Cheese?"She sniffles, her face low. "Just butter, please." Then she jerks up again. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean...""Charlotte... Charlotte..." I draw up a chair by her, pull her face to mine, kiss her forehead. "You have it all out of proportion. Come on, see the funny side." I cast down. "Look, Scruffy will eat your burnt offering if no-one else will."Then I regret my words. The pint-sized mongrel grins up ingratiatingly, displaying more teeth than the average w
Klempner - ThailandHours later, my water-break is a half-forgotten dream. I'm sweaty and uncomfortable. The sun has westered beyond the treeline and shadows draw long.It's been tough; not so far in terms of distance covered, but the going is steep and over broken ground that bizarrely, has left me with a crick in my neck from constantly looking down to watch where I place my feet.But it's levelling out now, getting easier, and I'm leaving the treeline behind me, the trees thinning. Still hiking hard, I check the mapping app. Despite my break, I'm where I intended to be by now, the trail skirting around the mountain, more or less on a contour.Behind me, above and to my left, the forest is thick and impenetrable. To my right, ahead of me, a sheer drop, some hundreds of feet of rocky cliff-face, has opened up the view. I look over mile upon myriad mile of forest, stretching out in waves of mountain height, valley delve and misted crevasse.But on the edge of my vision, forwa