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The Marriage Bed: An Ideal Marriage? / The Marriage Campaign / The Bridal Bed

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2018
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They had the night. ‘We shouldn’t waste a moment,’ Gabbi said with mock reverence, and gave his chest a gentle push. ‘When we reach the coast we’ll get some prawns and Moreton Bay bugs which you can cook on the barbecue while I get a salad together. We’ll open a bottle of wine, eat, and watch the sun go down.’

He let her go, watched as she rose lithely to her feet, then took her outstretched hand and levered himself upright in one fluid movement.

It was after five when they entered the house, and by tacit agreement they took a long walk over the damp, packed sand of an outgoing tide, then reluctantly turned and retraced their steps.

Her hand was held lightly clasped in his, and a faint breeze tugged her blouse and teased loose tendrils free from the careless knot of her hair. Her skin glowed from its exposure to the fresh sea air, and her eyes held a mystic depth that owed much to the pleasure of the day, and the anticipation of the night.

After preparing the meal there was time to change into swimwear and swim several lengths of the pool before emerging to dry the excess water from their skin.

The aroma of barbecued seafood heightened their appetite, and, seated out on the terrace, Gabbi reached for a prawn with her fingers, declared it ambrosia, then reached for another as she dug her fork into a delectable portion of salad.

‘You’ve got prawn juice on your chin,’ Benedict said lazily, and she directed a dazzling smile at him.


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