The Fog ClearsThe smoke swirled into the air from his cigarette and he gazed at the burning end, tried to think where he could buy some more, then flicked it away in disgust. He really should give up.
He sat on the rear steps of the embassy building, looking out across the manicured lawn. The glass roof covered all, and the rain peppered the panes with the sound of distant machine guns. Another day in paradise. He made a noise from the back of his throat, looked at the empty carton in his grip, crumpled it and was about to toss it away when Cerys Hamon came and sat down next to him. He breathed in her perfume, orange blossom and something else. It made him feel warm inside.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“As well as I can be.”
She nodded and peered at the cigarette carton. “You're a man of me
