... I couldn't get him out of my mind. Scenes kept playing over and over, clouded by different suppositions each time, as I tried to decipher the conversation I had taken part in without saying a word.

It had been years since I'd separated from my husband James, those years spent mostly alone - the odd disappointing date sending me back into solitude with a sigh of relief each time.

Eight years of marriage had ended badly, the impact evident in both the boys and I. I loathed him; I had run out of excuses, exhausted by the constant trying and the failures mounting up.  Staying together for the boys worked up to a certain point and beyond that I could find no other reason to continue the charade.

This new one though? Something was drawing me back, each contact of eyes a tiny magnet and viewed as a whole now, a giant magnet, pulling at me, my thoughts drawn of their own accord toward him.

It became imperative in the end that I was at that pier again the next day, at the exact time. I worked at it, re-arranging chores and appointments. Another book, a more concentrated effort with my appearance and out the door; the boys showing surprise at my sudden eagerness and... excitement?

We walked up the long, creaking, rotting-in-places wooden pier.

He wasn't there...

I sat in my usual spot and my sons took off, meeting up with a few school-mates. I pulled the new book out and soon found myself in England, in a musty old mansion.

... The next day was hot again. No wind. I needed the damned southerly; I'd been out of the ocean a week now. The surfboard still strapped to the roof, like the sight of it would somehow change the weather pattern.

"Paul, someone on the phone for you!"

I ducked back in the large shed, and picked up the extension.

"How's my baby doing? Is she done?"

"Geoff?"

"Yeah Geoff! Who were you expecting?"

I laughed. Geoff's boat - his baby - stood next to the much larger Adeline, both of which still needed a shit-load of work.

"Another week mate." I was flying out to the Gold Coast tonight, to work on a boat there. One of my clients' boats had developed what he'd called "a small problem" which apparently only I could fix. He didn't trust the dozens of repair-yards there. I'd been emailed the tickets and accommodation details so who was I to argue?

"You said today!"

"I said maybe."

"Hey, I've got the whole Christening thing organized for this afternoon!"

My mind was on the pier. On her. I hadn't touched either boat since dropping my daughter off to work yesterday. All I could think about.  Who was she? Sixteen years of marriage and I hadn't strayed once. Wife, daughter, boats. And surfing. My life.

"Can't do it."

"I'll give you another grand. If I have her by four..."

"Geoff-"

"C'mon Paul. Please?"

"You got a new woman right! When are you gonna give up?"

"I need my baby!"

"Alright, alright. You'll have her by four." I sighed. Would she still be there?

"She's bloody ten years younger can you believe it? Met her three nights ago. Knocked me for a six. I-"

"Off the phone Geoff. I got work to do."

I hung up. Geoff and his women was like Geoff and his boats. He changed both often, which I didn't mind since it brought in steady work.

"Bacon!"

He appeared, waiting as usual just outside the shed. "Coffee. Large."

He bounded off towards the house. I'd taught him this trick - even though I could just as easily pick up the phone which also served as an intercom. He'd find my wife and give one bark, pause, two more barks. Susan would pop one pod then another into the Nespresso machine. Pour the coffee into my stainless steel mug with the lid and attach it to Bacon's collar.

He came back several minutes later and I detached the mug from his collar. I'd already started working on Geoff's 'baby'. I loved that coffee machine. My wife...

... Half-way through the book, I looked at my watch. 2.00pm. We'd been here four hours, and no sight of him. Another hour then I was calling it a day. We had to leave straight from the beach and go to Marcus' friend's birthday party. A barbecue thing at the park...

Maybe he'd been a tourist after all? The surfboard on the roof-racks... I felt sad, and even the story had failed to distract me. Every few minutes, my eyes had swept the length of the pier, looking for the inverted collie. What the hell kind of name was Bacon anyway?

... I'd finished close to 3.00. A quick call to an ecstatic Geoff, a note for Susan reminding her to have my bag ready and I was in the car with Bacon, heading for the pier. He travelled the whole way with his snout out the window, sniffing. Times like these, I wished we could communicate with words, him and me. He'd picked up her scent. I could just tell him to find her right?

She lived close to the pier, I was sure of it. The fact she and the two boys had walked, turned up the street near the Kebab joint? I turned right towards the pier and got stuck in the middle of the divided road, waiting for the light to change.

"You're driving today?"

"Where were you? I waited..."

"I'm sorry..."

"I waited for hours!"

"Turn around! Come back!"

"I can't. I have to be somewhere."

"Turn around, please!"

"Tomorrow?"

"I can't... I..."

The light changed. I moved ahead, towards the car park. She turned right, her silver SUV continuing down along Point Nepean Rd. Where was she going? I found a spot... was this where she'd been parked? Bacon jumped out and waited.

We waded in the shallow water for an hour or so. I kept an eye out on the shore thinking maybe... maybe she'd come back...

... I'm not a beer drinker. Lately, my wine of choice has been a rather sweet local Moschato... I sipped the bitter Fosters and glanced down at my watch again. I hated watches. I hated knowing the time. I'd worn one today only because I knew we had to be here in time for the cake and stuff. The local park had seemed a good idea three weeks ago when Shelley had asked for my opinion. I'd agreed, not expecting the searing heat-wave. The grass was yellow, parched; the playground shimmering in the heat, its metal parts too hot for small hands to grasp. My boys, along with the other older ones were playing a game of soccer.

The usual Northerly arriving as a cool breeze over the bay had not made an appearance. The small group of parents had all taken shelter under the shade of the gazebo where two barbecues were sizzling; the waft of sausages and chops keeping me at a distance, plonked on a beach chair under the less-shady cover of a gum tree. Swatting at yet another fly, I thought of him. The odds again. Our eyes briefly meeting at the lights; my face a question, pleading for another encounter tomorrow. He had shaken his head. Why? Was he leaving?

... I took the long way home, following the direction she had taken earlier, eyes darting left and right, looking for the distinctive slogan on the back window of her SUV. Bacon was sniffing out the side window again. Could he pick up her scent? Could he?

I did a quick tour of the local shopping centre car park thinking maybe she'd gone shopping. Could I somehow teach Bacon to follow her scent?

Back home just before six, I had time for a quick shower then I was back in the car again, bag in the boot, heading for the airport. A bitch of a drive once but made much easier now with the new freeway...