In the Shadow of Satellites Read Online Free

anecdote? Oh wait! I think I ate some of those when I was in Paris. They were fried in garlic, and –“
    She leans over to slap him on the arm, and I cringe.
    “Jesus, woman! Sian, can you sort her out? She can’t seem to keep her hands off me. I know she’s excited to see me, but this is getting ridiculous.”
    Ana narrows her eyes at him, raising her hand to hit him again.
    He’s too quick for her though, jumping up and making himself comfortable in the other armchair so she can’t reach.
    “Yeah, you better run, beardy-boy.”
    He grins at her, tilting his beer bottle at her before taking another sip. It feels like old times, which is the most surreal thing. The more he talks about where he’s been and what he’s done, the stranger the whole situation feels. Past and present, then and now.
    I glance over at the French doors, and I can almost see James standing there, leaning against the door frame, smiling at him. He would’ve loved this. He would’ve teased him mercilessly, right along with Ana. Chris and James were practically inseparable when we lived in Wellington. They’d hit it off the moment they met, working together in an office in the city, not long after we moved down there. Chris’s sense of humour appealed to James, even though they were total opposites on the surface. James was the family man, the career chaser, the serious one. He had it all mapped out, he liked to plan ahead. Chris was a skirt-chaser, out for a good time and nothing more. He was just as intelligent as James, but for some reason I’ve never quite understood, he tended to hide it.
    We both missed Chris when he finally decided Wellington was too small for him. London called, and off he went. We lived vicariously through his adventures whenever we got together over Skype. Texts received in the middle of the night were common. He never did get the hang of the time-zone thing.
    I found out afterwards that he’d come back for the funerals. By the time I woke up five months later, he’d gone again. Since then, we’d kept in touch sporadically. With no internet or cell phone service at the lake, our correspondence was limited. He had a real fondness for postcards. Some were cryptic, some were beautiful, and some just made me wish he was home and everything was the way it used to be. He’d phoned a handful of times over the past year, and it was always good to hear from him, but the calls were usually in the middle of the night, and he was travelling, so they were short. In some ways, it was the perfect excuse. We didn’t have to go into anything in any depth. We didn’t have to address what had happened. We could just pretend that everything was fine.
    “Earth to Sian?”
    I look up from my glass of wine to find them both watching me, wearing matching bemused, slightly worried expressions.
    “Sorry, what?”
    “You disappeared again,” Ana said gently.
    “Did I?”
    It’s a concentration thing, connected to my injury. It’s not usually such an issue, because I’m hardly a social butterfly these days.
    “Was I boring you?” Chris smiles, winking at me. “She was pretty hot, but maybe you had to be there.”
    I smile, when what I really want to do is cry. Sometimes, all of this just seems so much fucking harder than it should be. The lie comes out so easily, I almost feel guilty.
    “Not at all. I guess I’m just tired. Sorry. I think it’s this heat. It saps my energy.”
    He smiles back, but I catch the lightning-fast glance he and Ana exchange when they think I’m not watching.
    “I thought I was the one suffering from jet-lag,” he jokes. “Why don’t we sit outside, on the deck? There’s a breeze. Maybe it’ll help to wake us both up.”
    I dutifully agree, and Ana picks up her drink and the plate of snacks and follows us as we head outside. We settle into the wooden chairs and automatically put our feet up on the railing, all three of us. It’s a simple gesture, but a familiar one. Another reminder, as if