3
0650 hrs EDT
Sunday, May 29 2011
Female BOQ
Walter Reed National Military Medical Centre (WRNMMC)
Bethesda, MD
Jen twisted and turned under the hot, stinging jet of water. That was one benefit of living in BOQs she supposed, a constant supply of hot water without having to worry about heating bills. An extra added bonus in this case was the wonderful water pressure. She could almost feel the overnight grime, perspiration and… and… other stuff being blasted off her skin by the sheer force of the water alone!
'Yeah… other stuff! Less than a day in Harm's company and the old dreams are back!' she silently chastised herself; her feelings a mixture of self-deprecating humour and exasperation. 'For God's sake! I'm thirty three years old – not some naïve, innocent teenager! Ha! Not that I ever was really! And I've been married! I have absolutely no business in indulging in dreams of what his hands could with me… to me! Let alone anything else!'
Jen cursed silently as a driblet of soapy water found its way into an eye, and reaching out beyond the shower curtain, hastily grabbed a towel off the rail and dabbed her stinging eye dry. 'That'll teach me to pay attention to what I'm doing instead of drooling over Harmon Rabb!' she told herself fiercely. Then she sighed; she had seen what his large capable hands were capable of when he'd done domestic maintenance around the two apartments, let alone he had refurbished his own apartment from a disused loft into a comfortable bachelor apartment, where, with the exception of the unpredictable elevator everything had been lovingly hand-crafted to as near as perfection as he could manage – and that had been very near indeed!
The trouble was, she'd drifted off to sleep thinking about him and so of course had then dreamed about him. And while she couldn't remember the details of her dreams she did remember that his hands featured largely in them, and then again she did have the evidence on her pj's and the skin of her thighs that they must have intensely erotic!
0757 hrs EDT
Sunday, May 29 2011
Room 1132
The Willard Hotel
Washington, DC
Jen had her hand raised to knock on the door when Harm opened it. He grinned at her pose, her hand stopped in mid-air, and the expression on her face. "I… uh… was listening for you… uh… I was afraid you wouldn't come…"
Jen stepped into the room as Harm backed away to vacate the doorway, "Why on earth wouldn't I come, after I'd said I would?" she asked.
Harm looked away, giving Jen the chance to look at him properly and, 'Yes, I can openly admire him too… just as long as he doesn't catch me!' with that thought she stifled a giggle and gave her host a visual once over. 'H'mm very, nice… white t-shirt, light blue cotton shirt and black pants, all clean and sharply pressed! Mm-mm!'
Realising with a start that Harm hadn't yet answered her question, Jen repeated it, "Why wouldn't I come when we had arranged that I would, Harm?"
"You… uh… you seemed pretty damned keen to get away from me yesterday," he mumbled uncertainly.
"Oh…" Jen felt her cheeks getting warm, "That… uh… that had… umm… nothing to do with you, or me not wanting to be in your company… but, it was a bit personal…"
"New boyfriend, Jen?" Harm asked with a smile that Jen thought still held a good deal of sadness.
"No!" Jen snapped, "It's nothing like that!"
"Then what was it?" Harm persisted.
Jen's shoulders slumped and she sent him a long-suffering look, as she said, "Damn' lawyers! You're not going to give up on this are you?"
Harm saw that Jen was desperately trying to evade the question, and for the first time in over a year, his inner devil leaped to life, "No… probably not," he drawled lazily, as he dropped into an armchair.
"Ohhh! Alright then," Jen huffed, turning scarlet as she spoke, "if you really must know… I didn't think to send my… my… panties to the laundry with my uniform, and I was so tired that I forgot about washing them by hand! And they were so uncomfortable and hot that I couldn't wait to get them off! Satisfied?!"
Harm looked at her in amazement. 'Right, I've always known Jen could be outspoken – it got her into hot water enough times with Chegwidden. But does she really know what she's just said and how it could sound?' and as he figured it out for himself, Harm couldn't resist a chuckle and a meaningful glance at Jen.
From the look of horror on her face and the way her cheeks reddened even further when she intercepted Harm's glance, it was apparent that Jen had caught her unmeant double-entendre, and even worse, from her point of view and betrayed by his chuckle, so had Harm!
Jen pressed her hands to her flaming face and mumbled, "Oh, God… Harm… I…" and then hearing his chuckle, a deep chested almost strained sound, as if somewhere along the way he had forgotten how to laugh, Jen felt her irritation fade. If making a fool of herself was a way to get Harmon Rabb to laugh, then she was happy to play the court jester!
Jen shook her head and fanned her cheeks with her hands, "Did you just handle me into saying that?" she demanded with a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"No… no, you managed to do that all by your own self!" Harm refuted the implicit accusation, the vestiges of his amusement still audible in his voice.
Jen shook her head in resignation but was saved from answering by a rap at the door and a voice calling out, "Room Service!"
Jen dropped into the other armchair and continued fanning herself with her hands while the waiter wheeled in his trolley and transferred the dishes to the table. Once again Harm slipped him a tip and with a cheerful "Thank you, sir!" the waiter left them to their breakfast.
Once again Harm drew Jen's chair for her, slipping back under her as she sat, and then took his own seat. Jen eyed the table curiously, there were two small cloches which she assumed after yesterday covered the toast and marmalade, but only the one large, very large cloche in the centre of the table.
Harm removed the cloche with a flourish and Jen cautiously inspected the dish, "Wha… what is it?" she asked at length.
"Gaffer's Pie!" Harm responded.
"What?" Jen demanded.
"Gaffer's Pie – or at least that's what they call it in the UK." Harm said cutting into the bulging half-moon-shaped offering. "Over here, we civilised people generally refer to it as a Farmer's Omelette! It's just a big old omelette filled with re-heated left over vegetables."
Jen made a moue of distaste and Harm grinned, "Go ahead, try it! If you don't like it, I'll 'phone down for a Danish or a half-dozen doughnuts for you!"
Jen glared at him as she read his tease and then took a cautious forkful from the portion of the omelette that Harm had placed on her plate, and after a few seconds, her face cleared and she looked across the table at him, swallowed and said, "Hey, that's surprisingly good! Nothing at all what I'd expected from your description!" Her smile had a hint of mischief in it when she added, "Mind you, it would benefit from the inclusion of some protein!"
Harm threw up his hands in mock surrender, "The original style omelette does include bacon and sausage patties, but I asked the chef for a vegetarian version. You don't mind, do you?" he added anxiously.
"Of course not!" Jen smiled, after all those months with you and … with you and Mattie," she carried on determinedly, "I'm kinda used to your quirks… In fact, I quite often eat vegetarian myself now. Not all the time, though!" she pointed her fork at Harm to emphasise her point.
"Good to hear," Harm said and bent his attention back towards his plate.
The rest of breakfast was consumed without either of them touching on a sensitive matter, and ended with the pair leaning back in their chair and finishing the last of the coffee.
"Have you any place you particularly want to go today, Harm?" Jen asked as she replaced her coffee cup on its saucer.
"Would Charlottesvile be too far?" Harm asked.
"Not if you really want to go there… I suppose you want to check up on your 'plane. Will you still be able to fly it?"
"Oh yes, I'm only grounded as far as the Navy is concerned, I've still got my private pilot's licence. But no, she'll have to have a thorough overhaul before she can take to the air again, so, no, no flying today, or for a good while yet. Seeing as you mentioned her first, I thought I'd pay a visit to Mattie. That's another thing I haven't been able to do yet!"
Jen's eyes flew wide open and she stared worriedly across the table at Harm The guilt and self-loathing in his voice was as clear as if it had been rung by a carillon of bells.
"If that's what you want, Harm, then Charlottesville it is. And if it is Charlottesville then we had best get going!"
"Do you know where we need to be?" Harm asked, as he started to square away the breakfast clutter.
Jen stood still for a second and then said quietly, "Yes, I know. I know exactly where we need to be." She paused wondering whether or not to go on, but then gave a mental shrug; he would have to be told sooner or later. "I go to see her once a month." She said in the same tone of voice, and then quickly looked away so that Harm wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.
Then his strong, gentle hand cupped her chin and raised her face to look into his. She saw again the pain in his eyes and in his expression as he said softly, "Thank you Jen, thank you for that."
Jen could only nod dumbly.
1132 hrs EDT
Sunday, May 29 2011
Riverview Cemetery
Charlottesville, VA
Harm had had plenty of time to study Jen as they drove South to Fredericksburg on the I-95. She had chosen a white, square-tailed blouse which she wore loose, hanging over the plain blue denim skirt, which revealed her legs from the knees down, when she was standing or walking, but had ridden up as she drove, leaving her nylon free legs bare to his view. Her hair, which Harm considered, along with her eyes, to be her best feature, was bound back by a simple, blue, elasticated band which kept it out her face but allowed it to flow freely down her back.
Although she kept her eyes on the road, Jen was very well aware of Harm's scrutiny, 'I hope he likes what he's looking at,' she thought, and taking advantage of a stop sign she threw him a quick glance and felt a warm glow in the pit of her stomach when she thought she saw a smile of approval on his face.
Harm not only approved of Jen's appearance but was also been impressed with her handling of the Impreza, while not a muscle car by his understanding of the term, it was a definite step up in terms of power from the battered Ford that she had driven for the three or so years he had known her prior to his departure to the UK. She handled the stick-shift smoothly, her gear changes barely registering and seemed much more relaxed behind the wheel than he remembered ever having been before.
Jen laughed when Harm mentioned that she seemed less tense behind the wheel than he remembered her, "Oh that was that damned old Ford," she chuckled, "Every time I drove it I was literally on the edge of my seat waiting for the damned thing to break down! As it did from time to time!" She sent a sly glance in his direction, "Have you forgotten the night I had to call you to come and rescue Mattie and me on our way back from her dad's?"
"No… I hadn't forgotten," Harm said sombrely, 'How could I ever forget… if I hadn't encouraged Mattie to go back to her father, she might still be alive today…' but then aware that he was in danger of casting another damper on the day he managed a sickly grin and added, "I'm not likely to ever forget that night. That heap of junk you called a car chose the heaviest rain storm of the year in which to throw in the towel!"
"Yeah," Jen chuckled with a sly grin in Harm's direction, "but with that much water around, a towel was just what was needed!"
Harm groaned audibly at Jen's pun, and was rewarded by another flashing grin. Harm shook his head in mock sorrow, but happy that she had once again lifted the mood when it threatened to become morbid, he asked, "So… what is it that makes you so confident about driving this car?"
Jen was silent for a few moments as she slipped into the outside lane and accelerated past an eighteen wheeler big rig.
"Well, for a start it's all-wheel drive, then again it's a flat four, two point five litre double turbo-charged engine – that's about one hundred and fifty supercharged cubic inches, so it delivers plenty of power! Well, enough for me, without me being scared of the beast! And the best thing of all is that it's reliable. It got so with that Ford that I didn't trust it to get me from DC to to Falls Church, in the end! I was glad to see the back of it!"
Harm nodded his appreciation if Jen's grasp of her car's specifications. "You did your homework before you bought it!" he said approvingly.
"Hey! Don't start patronising me, Mister Hot-Shot!" Jen said, but with a smile to rob her words of any malice. "All it took was for me to read a couple of motoring magazines!"
But that conversation had been about an hour and a half ago before they left the I-95, and the conversation since then had been light and confined to non-controversial and non-specific topics.. Now, as Jen swung the Impreza into a parking spot near the cemetery gates they both fell silent. Jen switched off the ignition and they both sat quietly for a couple of minutes before Harm spoke, "Well… shall we? Or are we just going to sit here all day?"
"Are you sure you can do this, Harm?" Jen asked in a quiet, concerned voice.
"No, Jen, I'm not sure I can do this. I am, however, sure that I've got to try."
"Ok, then. If you're ready, let's go!" Jen said, injecting as much encouragement as she could in her voice.
They climbed out of the car and Harm took a deep breath. "You say you come here, regularly?" Jen nodded. "Then you'd best lead the way…"
After a short pause while Harm consulted the map painted onto a board just inside th4 cemetery gates they set off side by side as they walked along the smooth asphalt single track road that curved through immaculately kept lawns, their silence only broken by Jen's occasional direction, "We take a left here, Harm…" Harm struck almost immediately by the difference between this civilian cemetery and the military ones to which he was more accustomed, here were no regimented rows of identical markers, each burial had its own marker of a design chosen by those left behind.
After some five minutes walking Jen halted, stopping Harm by the simple expedient of gently laying a hand on his forearm, "We're here, or almost… she's two rows up…" Jen pointed with her chin. "I can wait here for you if you'd like," she suggested.
"No… that's alright, Jen. There's nothing I need to say to Mattie that you can't hear." Visibly squaring his shoulders he walked, with Jen a step behind him between the graves of strangers until he came to a small, smooth, white marble marker. It was an unremarkable grave, nothing to indicate that it was the final resting place of the bright, brave and beautiful young girl who had taught him the importance of letting go, that it wasn't quite enough to love people, it was necessary to let people in behind his barriers, to let them know that he loved them
For a moment he stood, reading her name, "Mathilda Grace Johnson" followed by the date of her birth and the one date he would never forget, the date of her death. Dropping to one knee, he rested one hand on the neatly manicured turf that covered her and in a voice roughened by emotion he said, "Hi Squirt… It's been too long… but I've been stationed overseas. I guess that you know that. The damn Navy wouldn't delay my posting so I could see you laid to rest. They said you weren't family. Well we both know that's hokum, Mats; you may not be related to me by blood or marriage, but you sure as hell are by love. You will always be the daughter of my heart, Mattie Grace, and I hope you know that too. This is my first visit to you, Kiddo, but it won't be the last, and I want you to know that despite the fact I haven't been to see you before, there has never been a day when you haven't been in my thoughts as you always will be in my heart. There's one more thing Mattie… I don't know if I believe any more, and I definitely don't know whether or not there is an after-life, but if there is and you are there, please keep an eye out for Mac… and… and our baby girl, her name is Patricia Sarah, after my mom and hers. They left me too soon, and I don't know if there's anyone where you are that knows them… so… if you're with your mom, would you ask her to help you look after them… You know Mac, she'll never ask for help… so you'll have to force her to accept it, but you tell her that it's me that's asking you, and I'm pretty sure she'll let you. She'll never tell you that she needs help, she may not even say thank you, but she will be grateful, I know that. I will too. But just remember one thing Mattie Grace, even if she tears you a new one while you're trying to help her, Mac loves you too. And I will always love you."
Jen had hung back a little, wanting to give Harm a much privacy as she could, but she overheard enough of his words and the grief-filled tone in which he spoke for the tears to spring to her eyes, and as Harm rose to his feet, she closed the gap between them, and as she had done that Christmas Eve all those years ago, she raised on her toes and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Harmon Rabb, you're a good man!" she told him firmly.
Harm nodded, for the moment incapable of further word;, instead he slipped an arm around Jen's shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze in gratitude. Jen sighed and let her head drop forward to allow it to find a home in the hollow of his shoulder.
After long moments of stillness and silence, Harm coughed in order to clear his throat and in a voice still roughened by emotion, he asked, "This is block M, isn't it?"
Jen regretfully stepped back from the comfort of his arm, but kept a hand on his forearm as she did so, "Yes… I think so, why?"
Harm took out his wallet, and removed a well-worn slip of official-looking paper from its recesses, "Matilda Grace Johnson," he read, "Block M, Row 34, Grave Number 42. That's where we are, right?"
A puzzled Jen could only nod her head. "So…" Harm looked at the note again, "This row is two back from the road… so, Row 36, should be down almost at the roadside, right?"
"Yeah… I guess…" Jen agreed slowly.
"OK, so..." Harm turned and made his way to the roadside, where turning away from the direction from which they had approached he walked slowly long the road his head turned to the side and Jen could see his lips moving until he suddenly stopped walking, "Fifty-three! We're here Jen." He spoke heavily and made no effort to explain his actions, but when he stepped off the asphalt and stopped in front of another grave, Jen gasped with sudden realisation as she saw the Eagle, Globe and Anchor carved into the black Granite and the named carved below the Corps emblem, picked out in letters of gold, "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Rabb USMC, July 25 1968 –January 29 2010" and then below that, "Semper Fi, Mac."
Harm stood with head bowed looking at the grave, and then said, "I am so sorry, Mac, so, so very sorry. I didn't want this to happen, but you were so determined, just a stubborn Jarhead right to the last, weren't you? But you were my Jarhead, my Marine, and I should have said 'no'. Yes… I know that we wouldn't have had Patricia… but you would still have been here, we would still have had each other… and I'm sorry that I didn't have the strength to keep you with me. Now listen up Marine, Mattie's somewhere up there, and I know she's got her mom with her, but she'll still need an occasional kick on the six to keep her flying right. That's your job Mac, you look after both my little girls, please?" He gulped one more time then took a pace back, bracing into the position of attention, "I love you Mac; Semper Fi!"
Then he turned to face Jen and she saw to his surprise that his eyes were dry and that he even managed a faint smile, "Thank you, Jen. We can go now if you're ready…"
"Yes… yes… I'm ready." 'Oh God, I'm more than ready! How the hell do you do it Harm. Damn it, I was nearly in tears just now. How the hell can you lock your emotions away like that!'
The walk back to the car was completed in silence, each of them busy with their thoughts, and the silence was maintained until Jen manoeuvred the Impreza out of the parking lot and turned it back towards the north.
"Harm, if you don't mind me asking… How did Mac end up here?"
"That was my doing, Jen. I had her and the baby shipped back here... Patricia Sarah is buried with her, but they wouldn't let me put her name on the stone. She wasn't still-born, you see, they said she was a spontaneous abortion... not a person." Harm swallowed convulsively and Jen saw his fists clench on his thighs as he spoke. He took a deep breath before he continued, "I didn't want to abandon them in a foreign country... and Mattie was here, and I wanted all my girls to be near each other... It was... more fitting somehow, and maybe... if there is any sort of life after death, then I kinda figured that if they're buried near each other it'll make it easier to for them to find each other... up there..." he instinctively looked up as he finished, and then grimaced in a self-deprecating manner, "Pretty dumb line of thought, huh? Especially as I don't know if I believe in any of it anymore..."
"No..." Jen replied thoughtfully, "No, it's not dumb... It's sweet, and... caring... but again, if you don't mind my asking, why were you apologising to Mac? It's not your fault, it's not anyone's fault that she… that she and the baby died…"
"That's where you're wrong, Jen…" Harm spoke in a voice that seemed overwhelmed by fatigue, and shooting a glance at her passenger Jen saw that he had his head back against the headrest and his eyes closed, and in a flash of insight she realised that the bags under his eyes weren't alcohol-related pouches, but signs of sleep deprivation, and that was why he was drinking: not to drown his sorrows, but to try and sleep. Resolving to shelve that conversation for a later occasion, Jen reverted to her original question.
"How am I wrong, Harm?" she asked as she down-shifted to pass a family sedan that was crawling up US-29, 'Probably heading for Walmart for the weekly shop!' she thought as the Impreza purred past them; mom, dad and it looked like three kids jammed into the back seat. Becoming aware that Harm still hadn't answered her question, she asked, "Well?"
"It was my fault, Jen, can we just leave it at that?"
"Nope… How was it your fault, why was it your fault?" Jen was careful to keep her tone non-accusatory.
Harm gave an exasperated growl, "Because if I wouldn't have gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have died!"
"Uh… you don't know that, Harm…"
"Hah! It's a pretty fair bet!"
"And anyway," Jen continued as if he hadn't spoken, "You didn't force her to become pregnant, did you? In fact, I'll bet it was Mac who was determined to have a baby, wasn't it?" she added shrewdly.
Harm twisted in his seat to look at her, his eyes now flat and unfriendly, "Leave it Jen!" he warned, "We are not having this conversation!"
"Too late, Buster! We've started, so we might as well finish!"
Harm blinked, Jen's words had struck a chord deep in his memory, and then it came to him, "Mattie once said much the same thing one time, when she was pushing me to talk about Mac… we weren't having the best of times… just after I got Mattie as a ward… I didn't want to talk about my feelings for Mac, but she just wouldn't let go. She teach you that too?"
Jen shook her head, "No… you taught us both. We watched how you investigated cases, digging and probing until you finally came up with the right answer, with the truth… I'd seen already just how far you'd push to get to the truth… to do the right thing…"
"Yeah, well. I wasn't a good example – as you nearly found out to your cost, didn't you?"
"I don't know what you mean." Jen turned puzzled eyes to Harm for an instant, before she re-focussed them on the road.
"Didn't you ream out A J's six for being mean, unfair, unreasonable and pig-headed?"
Jen gasped in surprise and her cheeks reddened with remembered embarrassment, "How did you… Oh, the Colonel?"
Harm grinned, and to Jen's relief the chill had gone out of his voice, "Of course it was Mac. She overheard what you said, and from what she told me, she didn't know whether to intervene and save your six, or let you carry on with raking him up one side and down the other!" He paused briefly, "She wasn't too fond of the admiral herself at that time, so she was happy to let you rip him a new one!"
Jen chuckled, "I came so near to getting thrown in the brig that day!" Then her brow furrowed and she grinned again, "Nice try at evading the question, Counsellor, but it ain't working with this gal! Why was Mac's death your fault? You both wanted a baby; it was just so very sad that everything went so horribly wrong."
"No… once Mac's pregnancy went wrong, I couldn't do a single thing to prevent it… and that left me feeling so powerless… Almost everything in my life up to that point, I'd had some control over… but not this… I should have used that control to argue Mac out of getting pregnant… I should have… It would have saved her life…"
"Excuse me? Are we talking about you arguing Mac out of something she'd set her heart on? Remember this is Mac the stubborn Jarhead we're talking about here!"
"It would have been hard, I know, but I should have tried harder, but I did want a child too…"
"I know… I saw how you were with Mattie, and little A J, and Jimmy; I heard about how good you were with the Luke Pendry and then the Lewis case. Harm, someday you are going to be a father, and you'll be the best dad in the world, you'll see!"
Harm grinned mirthlessly, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jen. But it ain't going to happen. One: I'm a mess, and no woman in her right mind is going to look at me as husband material. Two: Even if I ever did re-marry, I won't put myself or her in the position that I put Mac!" Now, that subject is closed, if you please!"
Jen said nothing, but bowed her head momentarily in a gesture of acquiescence.
Jen allowed some twenty minutes or so to pass in silence, before she asked brightly, "Have you given any thought to lunch?"
"Huh…? No…. but now that you mention it, my stomach seems to think that's it's been a while since breakfast…"
"H'mm, what about Ed's Diner on the ninety five?" Jen asked, her tongue firmly in cheek.
Harm gave a shout of sardonic laughter, "You are joking, right?"
"I dunno… it's been a good while since I was last there… maybe things have improved…" Jen replied with a wicked glint in her eye.
"Jen… Ed's diner never changed from being the worst greasy spoon in Virginia or Maryland for all of the nine years I was in and around DC. What the hell makes you think it might have changed in the last five?"
Jen shrugged and chuckled, "Not sure… optimism, the law of averages?"
Harm shook his head, "Never go on a Vegas vacation, Jen!" he chuckled.
"Why not?"
"Because believing in optimism and the law of averages in a Vegas casino will lose you the shirt off your back as fast as lightning!"
"Speaking from experience, Harm?" Jen teased him.
"Nope, I come to that decision as the result of long observation of the stupidity of my fellow creatures! Jen, you should never underestimate the power of human stupidity!"
Jen laughed outright, "Cynic! So… if you don't want to go to Ed's Diner, there's a little family run place just off the I-ninety five about ten miles north of Fred'sburg. I'm not sure if it's open on a Sunday, but…"
Harm nodded, "Lay on MacDuff!"
2148 hrs EDT
Sunday, May 29 2011
Female BOQ
Walter Reed National Military Medical Centre (WRNMMC)
Bethesda, MD
Jen heaved a silent sigh of relief as she closed her room door behind her and sagged back against it. Today had been a hell of an emotional roller coaster, but had left her with more questions that it had supplied her with answers. There was no doubt in her mind that Harm was an emotional mess, and that what he needed was several sessions with a competent therapist, before he had his psych eval. In his current state he would probably be found unfit for further service, and in his own words would be left on the beach. Jen knew in her heart of hearts that if that should happen, if Harm was forced to retire under those circumstances, that it would finish him.
The afternoon had been pleasant, Jen had made an effort to steer clear of contentious subjects, figuring that Harm (and herself) had been subjected to enough emotional stress for the day. The diner she had suggested for lunch was open and lunch had been a culinary success, and once Harm had been assured by their waitress – the owner's middle daughter, it turned out – that all the chicken they used in the kitchen was free range and organically raised, he even ordered the same warm chicken salad that had been Jen's choice.
The afternoon had been spent in the air conditioned comfort of the Willard, where they had taken refuge from the Washington heat and humidity while they watched, without much interest the afternoon film provided free of charge by the hotel. Afterwards Jen couldn't even make an attempt at recounting the plot, which seemed to her highly improbable. All that she could remember was that it involved a huge snake which seemed endowed with super-human intelligence as it stalked and killed, one by one, bunch of explorers, or scientists or something in the depths of the Amazon jungles.
Jen had declined an offer of dinner, making the excuse that she needed to get home and ready her uniform for tomorrow. This was true enough, but she also had plans to further Harm's recovery. She only hoped that they wouldn't misfire.
Sitting on the side of the bed, she retrieved her cell 'phone from the depths of her shoulder bag and dialled a familiar number…
"Hi, Harriet, it's Jen, sorry to be calling so late…"