Page 6

‘Headaches. Dizziness. Feeling sick. Not being hungry. Not sleeping. Grumpiness.’ The guide had shot him a look at the last word.

Graysen was certainly fit, and he had rarely been sick apart from the odd head cold. Being medi-vacced from Namche Bazaar had made him realise that he had been pushing himself too hard for too long. Physically and emotionally.

In her last days Marion had made him promise not to grieve too hard and too long.

‘We’ve had a wonderful life together, my darling. We weren’t blessed with children, and that worries me for you when I’m gone. You’ll be lonely. I want you to promise that you’ll go off and keep seeing the world. Visit new places, and only think of me when you see places that we visited together. Focus on being happy and appreciating the years we’ve had. Appreciate the beautiful things you see, embrace life and realise how precious it is.’

Graysen had held her close, the fragility of her bones breaking his heart.

‘Go on, promise me.’ Marion’s smile was sweet, but he could see she was in pain when he touched her.

‘I promise.’

He had carried her out to the small porch of the cottage they had rented on the east side of Lake Macquarie in Newcastle so she could see her beloved sunset. It wasn’t far from the private hospital where she had had her treatment. The treatment that had failed.

There had only been three more sunsets before his wife had drawn her last breath in his arms.

‘Mr Hughes?’

He frowned and looked at the concierge.

‘The hotel can provide that service for you. We have secure short-term storage for up to eight weeks. Would you like me to organise that?’

‘Thank you’—Graysen looked at the guy’s name tag for the first time— ‘Craig. I’d appreciate that. I fly out on Sunday and I’ll be gone three weeks.’

‘Leave it with me, sir. I’ll arrange it for you.’

‘Thank you.’ As much as he hated being in the city, Graysen’s mood lifted a bit. His walk to the harbour had been invigorating, thanks to the stiff southerly buster that had come through when they’d landed at the international airport. The plane had been buffeted by the wind as the pilots had brought the jet in to land, and for a brief moment he’d gone to reach for Marion’s hand.

Sydney held sad memories of visits to the oncologist, and to surgeons. The quicker he got out of the city, the happier he’d be.

Not that happy was a feeling he knew these days.

He existed.

##

‘Good to see you, Graysen!’ Phillip Smythe, his friend and owner of PS Photographic Equipment and Supplies in Kent Street shook his hand the next morning. ‘You should have said you were coming to town. It’s been a long time, mate. Have you got time to come over for dinner one night or are you on your usual rushed schedule?’

‘I’m on a schedule but I’d like that. I’m here until Sunday.’

‘We’re having a bit of a do tomorrow night. Just family. They’d all love to see you. It’s Katy’s thirtieth.’

‘I don’t want to intrude.’

‘Mate, she’s your goddaughter.’

‘I haven’t been much of a godfather to her.’

‘Please come. In fact, I’ll call Janette now.’

As Phillip called his wife, Graysen browsed through the locked cabinets; he knew what he wanted and there was stock on display.

‘So, we’ll see you at six-thirty tomorrow night. Don’t bring anything, and if you’d like a bed, we’ve got plenty of room now that the kids have all left home.’

‘Thanks, Phil. I’ll see what the night brings.’

‘Well, the offer’s there. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. It’s been a long time, mate. Too long.’