He sank down again. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted, his voice gentle.
We lay on the mattress, fully dressed, our arms and legs tangled together.
“I’m not very good at gardening,” I said, thoughtfully.
“What’s that, baby?”
“I can’t grow things. Plants seem to wither when they see me. Can you grow things?”
I felt him shrug, confused by my question.
“I don’t know, Caro. I’ve never tried.”
“I’d like to plant something,” I mumbled, “see it live and grow.”
He tightened his grip, and stroked my hair.
“Does your place in Long Beach have a backyard?” he asked, gently.
“Yes. It could be pretty. Remember Signora Carello’s bougainvillea? Maybe we could grow something like that.”
He kissed my hair. “Baby, I can’t even spell bougain… whatever it is.” He sighed. “But I guess I could try. Was that the purple stuff?”
I nodded.
“Okay, baby. We can grow purple stuff.”
“And pink?”
“Sure, baby, with yellow fucking stripes if you want.”
“Okay.”
Chapter 16
I didn’t sleep that night. I thought at one point Sebastian might have slept, but as I gazed up at his face, I could see that his eyes were open.
When we couldn’t put it off any longer, I packed my equipment, and rolled up my deflated mattress, while Sebastian watched in silence.
“I’ll miss having you here,” he said, at last. “But I’m glad you’re getting the fuck out of this shithole.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned into his chest.
“Just come home safe, Sebastian. No heroics, please.”
“The only thing you’ve got to worry about is when I self-combust, especially if you’re going to send me more letters like that one you wrote me yesterday.”
I tugged on his uniform. “I mean it. Stay safe.”
He sighed and nuzzled his face into my hair. “I’ll do my best, baby. Promise.” Then he lifted up my chin with one, long finger and kissed me softly.
“Fuck, I’m going to miss you, Caro.”
“I love you, tesoro. So much.”
He held my face between his hands and gazed into my eyes. “Sei tutto per me.”
Our moment was over, and it was time to go.
Sebastian carried my bag out to the compound, ignoring the open stares of the other men. Captain Grant and Lieutenant Crawley shook hands with me, the latter offering his condolences.
Several of the men I’d been closest to came over and gave me awkward, one-armed hugs.
As soon as we heard the helicopter, eight Marines with M-16s escorted me to the pickup spot, 200 yards outside the compound.
The dust spewed into my eyes, churned up by the rotor blades that didn’t stop. Coughing, with my eyes watering, I was yanked inside and had a headset thrust into my hands. We took off immediately, not wishing to offer too easy a target to the unfriendly faces that were sure to be watching from the foothills.
I squinted out of the window, rubbing grit from my eyes, trying to pick out Sebastian from among the small dots of men standing in the compound, but with all of them wearing the desert utility uniforms, I couldn’t tell which one was him.
My teeth rattled from the helicopter’s vibration, and I had to grab onto my seat buckle to stop being thrown around as we banked sharply.
“Excuse me, Miss Venzi.” A voice with an English accent reverberated through my earphones. “I’m Flight Lieutenant Reeves, and I’ll be escorting you back to Bastion.”
Oh. I’d assumed I’d be going back to Leatherneck. I guessed it was just a case of who could give me a ride at short notice. In any case – the American and British sections were only a few miles apart.
Camp Bastion, the British base in Helmand, was even larger than Leatherneck. It felt strange to be surrounded by English accents, and I kept expecting Liz’s voice to bellow in my ear.
I wasn’t sure what they were going to do with me: I assumed they’d transport me over to Leatherneck and let the US decide how to ship me out.