‘She’ll be landing in New York by now,’ he thought. ‘She’ll be meeting her sister, and then…and then…’ It was like a mini death, and h... was grieving for her. By the time he went to pick up Courtney he was in no mood for an evening of revelry. Courtney, who was very aware of herself, and who believed that any male would have been over the moon about dating her, was quick to pick up his mood. ‘What the hell’s the matter with you,’ she asked petulantly, ‘You look like a funeral director who hasn’t. Each stumble, and its attendant kicks and blows from the soldiers, another even greater agony. She could barely see where they were: the tears in her eyes clouded everything despite the bright sun. She repeated Tracey's name again and again without knowing why, punctuated by every fucking shitting bastard swear word in her vocabulary. Loud enough she was sure to be heard by anyone with an ear to her cut lip, but not to the soldiers. Occasionally, a drop of blood, from her nose or from her. More

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