Pictures of Lily

by Paige Toon

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Do you remember Ben who worked at the conservation park? Michael’s colleague – you met him once.’

  ‘I remember,’ she says immediately. ‘In the car park. Tall, good-looking man with blond hair?’

  ‘That’s him.’

  ‘Is he the one?’

  I nod.

  ‘But how old is he?’

  ‘Twelve years older than me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mum, you promised not to be judgemental.’ She settles back into her seat and makes a conscious attempt to relax. I fill her in on the rest.

  ‘Oh, darling.’ She looks at me sadly when I’ve finished. ‘We rarely get over unrequited love.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  She studies me sceptically, then opens her mouth to speak before shutting it again.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask.

  She takes a deep breath and exhales loudly. ‘I was in love with a married man before I met your father.’ She pauses for a moment, her expression tense. ‘Nothing ever happened between us, but I knew he felt something for me too. He had two children. He would never have left his family. I know it’s wrong, but I slept with your father to make him jealous.’ She pauses. ‘I didn’t mean to fall pregnant, but I did. Is this too hard for you to hear?’

  I shake my head, willing her to go on.

  ‘After that, I’d made my bed and had to lie on it, but I’ve never loved anyone like I loved him.’

  ‘Did you ever see him again?’

  ‘I bumped into him once in London. It was after we’d moved back from Brighton. He was still married. He told me where he worked and I’ve kept tabs on him on the internet ever since. He died last year.’ I gasp. ‘Heart attack,’ she adds. ‘So now I can finally get over him.’

  A wave of understanding floods me. This is why she is the way she is. Why she’s finally able to say yes to Antonio.

  ‘Did you ever love my dad?’ I find myself asking.

  ‘Yes. In my own way. But he and I got together so quickly, and under such strange circumstances . . .’

  ‘There was never any build-up? No sparks of electricity? No meaningful eye-contact? None of the things that send shivers of anticipation down your spine and make you long for someone you

  can’t have?’ ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Richard and I never had any of that either.’

  ‘But Lily, that doesn’t mean he’s wrong for you.’

  ‘I know. If it weren’t for Ben, I’d be perfectly happy. But while there’s a chance of him being in my life, I’ll never be able to give Richard one hundred per cent. Is that fair?’

  She looks thoughtful, then shrugs. ‘That’s a question you’ll have to answer for yourself.’

  The longer I’m away from Richard, the more my head starts to clear. The next day is Saturday and it’s a cool, crisp day. I didn’t bring many clothes with me because I wasn’t sure how long I’d be away, but I did pack my new camera, still unopened in its box. I get it out now and study it.

  I spend the morning down at Bondi Beach taking photographs of everything from the surfers to seaweed. I’m experimenting, and it’s hugely liberating to be able to take as many photos as I like without worrying about the cost of developing. Most of my photos are average, but there are a few that I’m proud of, like the pile of brightly coloured beach towels with a small child running out-of-focus in the background, or the close-up of a half-destroyed sandcastle and the way the sun hits the shells that adorn it. Every time I review a shot I think of Ben and what he would say. My heart is becoming calmer.

  I return to the flat to find an unexpected visitor waiting for me. It’s Lucy.

  ‘Hello,’ I say warmly.

  ‘Hi.’ She looks uneasy as she stays seated on the sofa nursing a cup of tea. My mum switches off the telly that has obviously been entertaining them in my absence and makes herself scarce.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.

  ‘Molly was bringing Mikey in for lunch with Sam.’ Sam is a horticulturalist at the Botanic Gardens and he sometimes works weekends. ‘I hitched a ride and then borrowed Molly’s car to wing my way over here to see you.’

  ‘You should have called.’

  ‘I did. Your phone is switched off.’

  I pull it out of my bag. ‘Actually, it’s run out of battery. I forgot to pack my charger.’

  ‘I’m just going to pop down the shops,’ Mum says as she comes out of her bedroom.

  ‘Okay,’ I call over my shoulder.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ she says to Lucy.

  ‘Now we can relax,’ I say with a smile when she’s gone, but Lucy still looks tense. ‘How are you?’ I vaguely wonder why she’s not asking me that question under the circumstances.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replies. ‘Sorry, I know I probably shouldn’t have turned up out of the blue like this, but I felt like I had to do something. Richard doesn’t know I’m here.’

  ‘Right . . .’

  ‘Why haven’t you called him?’ she asks.

  ‘He asked me not to.’ I’m confused.

  ‘He didn’t mean it, Lily. He might’ve wanted you to take a day or so to think about it, but he never expected you to cut off contact like you have.’

  Now I’m dumbfounded.

  ‘He’s a mess,’ she continues. ‘He hasn’t been able to work. He’s only just gone home after staying with us for days. He didn’t want to be there without you. I don’t understand how you could do this.’

  Now I know why she looks so uncomfortable. She’s not here as my friend; she’s here as Richard’s.

  ‘What has he told you?’ I manage to ask.

  ‘That you had a childhood crush on an older man—’

  ‘It wasn’t a childhood crush,’ I interrupt.

  ‘Whatever it was, now he’s rocked up in Sydney and you’re thinking of running off with him.’

  My face flushes. She makes it sound so trivial.

  ‘Lucy, you don’t know the whole story,’ I respond firmly. ‘I fell in love with Ben ten years ago and have never fallen out of love with him. On the contrary, I’m now in deeper than I ever have been.’

  ‘But he’s twelve years older than you!’ she objects.

  ‘So? It’s not that ridiculous an age-gap. It felt like it when I was sixteen, but not now.’

  ‘Have you really thought this through? I mean, you don’t have a dad in your life . . .’

  ‘I do have a dad!’

  ‘Yes, but he hasn’t been around much. And your mum has always moved from man to man. Maybe you unwittingly went looking for a father figure?’

  ‘That is ridiculous,’ I snap. Isn’t it? I try to push the notion out of my head.

  ‘I don’t mean to interfere.’ Yes, but you are interfering. And it’s clear where your loyalties lie. ‘But you and Richard are so good together,’ she continues.

  ‘I know,’ I say, as sadness seeps through me. ‘I love Richard. But I love Ben more. You yourself told me, that – on paper – you and your ex were perfect together and Nathan was no match for him. But you followed your heart. That’s what I’m trying to do.’

  ‘I didn’t tell you that story to make you break things off with my husband’s best friend,’ she says miserably.

  ‘I know you didn’t. And it didn’t take you telling me that to help me make a decision. In fact, I haven’t made a decision yet. I’m still trying to.’

  ‘Oh, Lily, please come back and see him,’ she begs. ‘Please give your relationship one last chance. You could come with me now?’

  I politely thank her for coming to see me. But still I stay away.

  On Monday, Jonathan makes the announcement that Kip is leaving. The advertisement for picture assistant goes up on the company website immediately with an end-of-week deadline. He obviously wants to get things moving quickly. Bronte emails me to say cheers for covering for her on such short notice. I reply with a good luck message for her forthcoming job interview and ask how th
e shoot went.

  Brilliant location. The photographer was a dickhead though.

  Who was the photographer? I ask.

  Have you heard of Pier Frank? He’s into all this weird arty shit. Jonathan thought it’d be fun to get him to experiment with an editorial shoot, but it was a bloody nightmare trying to reel him in. Hopefully we pulled it off.

  For the first time I wonder how much I would enjoy working with photographers instead of as one. Is this what I really want to do? And let’s not forget, Bronte slugged her way through three years as an editorial assistant before she got her break on the picture desk. She’s only twenty-five. I’m twenty-six so if I work to her timelines I’ll be lucky to score a job as another assistant before I’m thirty. Do I really want to go down that long and winding road when my heart isn’t fully in it?

  Richard would say I’m mad not to.

  Ben would tell me to get onto those photography courses.

  That night, I go back to Mum’s and pull out all my old photos from ten years ago. I study the ones of Roy and Olivia and allow myself to dwell in the past for a while. I remember with a pang waking up on my second morning in Australia and begging Michael to take me to work with him. I never lost my enthusiasm for that job. I just couldn’t go on once Ben had left. It was the same with photography. My feelings for him overrode my passion for anything else. Now he’s back in my life I’m finding joy in the interests I abandoned years ago.

  All the signs point towards a life with Ben. But before I see him again, I need to face Richard.

  I go home after work the next day. I don’t call ahead to warn him, but his truck is parked in front of the house and my heart is in my mouth as I walk up the front path to the house I adore, knowing I’m probably going to be leaving it forever. I unlock the door and step into the hallway to find the house in a state of disarray.

  ‘Richard?’ I call. I poke my head into the living room, but he’s not in his normal place on the sofa, and then I see him outside on the deck, staring at the garden. I go to the door, trying not to notice my surroundings – the surroundings that I love and that I have made my own. ‘Richard?’ I say again more quietly so as not to startle him. I’m not successful because he jumps out of his skin and regards me with wide eyes.

  ‘You’re back!’

  I smile sadly, but say nothing. It depends on his definition of ‘back’. He gingerly gets to his feet, but I stay where I am inside the glass sliding door.

  He looks a mess. He hasn’t shaved in days and his face is pale and puffy.

  ‘Lily?’ He stands in front of me on the deck, his palms upright. I know he wants me to step outside into his arms, but I can’t. I don’t want to mislead him. His eyes fill with tears. ‘You’re leaving me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  His face creases with pain. ‘No,’ he moans.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper as he pushes past me and sinks onto the sofa. He buries his head in his hands, but suddenly looks up at me, his jaw working angrily as he demands, ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘No.’ I sit down on the armchair. ‘I’ve done as you asked. I haven’t called him or tried to see him. I’ve spent time away from both of you. I’ve never done so much thinking in my life.’

  He stares ahead in a trance. ‘What am I going to tell my parents?’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ I hate that thought also. It’s going to be horrible for him and they’re going to be so disappointed in me.

  ‘Is there nothing I can say or do to make you change your mind?’

  I shake my head sorrowfully and wait a long time before he speaks again.

  ‘I think you should go now.’

  I nod. ‘I’ll pack some things.’

  I get up quietly and leave him there on the sofa. In the bedroom I try not to think about everything I’m losing, but it’s hard not to. My attention flicks to the picture of Richard and me on the bedside table as I miserably pack a small bag. I’ll need to come back to clear out properly, but for now I just need a few more clothes to see me through this week. I plan to go back to Mum’s tonight.

  I want to call Ben, but I know it’s a bad idea in the state I’m in. I don’t think he should see me like this. I know I need time to recover before I go down that path. But that’s my head talking. My heart thinks differently.

  Richard appears in the hallway as I’m emerging from the bedroom.

  ‘Don’t go to him,’ he begs urgently.

  ‘Richard, I—’

  ‘NO!’ In a sudden, violent rage he punches the wall and I jump back in shock. ‘PLEASE! I can’t bear the thought of you with him!’

  ‘Don’t hurt yourself!’ I cry, grabbing his hand. His knuckles are red and sore.

  ‘Don’t go. I don’t want you to go,’ he pleads, covering my hand with his. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too.’

  ‘Then, why?’

  ‘It’s not enough. It would never have been enough. You never had all of me. You never would have had all of me. And you deserve to have the whole of someone.’ I detach myself gently, but don’t bother to brush away the tears that are running down my cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve chosen him over me.’ His voice is dull.

  ‘It wasn’t a choice,’ I tell my boyfriend of two years. My fiancé. The man I almost married. ‘I’ve always been his.’

  Chapter 29

  It’s a dark, windy night and I struggle with my bag all the way down the hill to the ferry terminal. The urge to ring Ben is overwhelming. At one point I pull out my mobile and curse loudly as I realise that yet again I’ve forgotten to pack my charger. I can’t go back home for it now. What am I saying? It’s not my home any more. I’ve never felt so miserable.

  Yes, you have. You’ve felt a lot worse than this.

  It’s true. Of course it’s true. This is nothing compared to the pain that crippled me when Ben left. Oh, God, I want to see him so much.

  I make a right at the shorefront and am out of breath as I haul the bag over my other shoulder and fight against the wind. I pass the surf shop which closed hours ago, and peer at the ocean to see if I can spot any surfers in the enormous waves crashing against the shore. But it’s dark now and they’ve all gone home for the night. I pass a restaurant lit warmly from the inside and spy a family of three eating a pizza. I halt in my tracks as I wonder if it’s Sam and Molly with Mikey, but I realise it’s not. A guy comes out of the shop with a takeaway pizza box and almost slams into me.

  ‘Sorry!’ he gasps. I look up to see Nathan. ‘Lily!’

  ‘Hi.’

  His gaze falls on my bag before his bluey-grey eyes meet mine. ‘Have you broken up with him?’

  ‘Yes.’ I can’t bear the grave look on his face.

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Not good,’ I admit.

  ‘I’ll go and see him,’ he decides. ‘Where are you going now?’

  ‘Back to Mum’s.’

  ‘Okay.’ Sadness fills his features as he places his hand on my arm. ‘Take care, alright?’

  I nod hurriedly. ‘When are you leaving, you and Lucy?’

  ‘In a few weeks. We’ll see him right before then.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper and turn away.

  I’ll miss Nathan. I’ll miss Sam, Molly and Mikey. And I’ll miss Lucy. I’ll miss them all. Am I doing the right thing? Ben . . . Thoughts and memories of him rush through my head, almost as though I’m watching a movie on fast-forward.

  He’s looking through my very first set of photos as we sit on the grass beside the lily pond.

  He’s gently taking the injured joey from me, pressing his warm arms against mine.

  He’s staring into my eyes across a table and I want to kiss him so much it hurts.

  Enough. I want to be with him and I want to be with him now.

  My heart lifts as I spot a public telephone box up ahead. Of course I know his number from memory. I committed it there along with everything else related to him.

>   He answers on the third ring.

  ‘It’s me,’ I say.

  ‘Lily!’

  ‘Are you at home?’

  ‘No, I’m on the yacht.’

  ‘I’m coming to see you.’

  ‘Do you need a lift?’

  ‘No. There’s a taxi right here.’ I flag one down as it’s passing.

  ‘Do you remember where I’m moored?’

  ‘Of course.’

  It starts to pelt down with rain as I climb into the taxi. ‘Jeez, you’re a bit lucky,’ the driver exclaims. ‘Where are you going?’

  I tell him and then settle back to stare out of the window.

  The wind almost knocks me off my feet as I climb out of the taxi, dragging my bag with me. The rain soaks me through in an instant as I run towards Ben’s yacht. There’s a light on inside the cabin. I lean over and knock on one of the tiny windows and the cabin door bursts open, and then his arms are around my waist as he lifts me and my bag onto the boat. He hurries me down below and shuts the door against the storm.

  ‘You’re soaking!’ he exclaims, his hands on my face and his fingers in my hair.

  ‘So are you.’ The rain is still running down his face and onto his T-shirt. His arms are wet.

  ‘Are you okay? What’s happened?’ His eyes search mine for any clues and then he releases his grip on me and steps away to give me space. He glances down at my bag on the floor and suddenly we’re staring at each other again and I know he understands.

  I lift up my hand to touch his face. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but have never been able to. The stubble under my fingers is rough. He stares back at me with blue, blue eyes as my thumb touches his lips. The rain pelts down hard from outside and the boat rocks to and fro in the harbour. I step forward and then I’m in his arms and tilting my head up and he’s kissing me gently, as though he’s afraid I might break or dissolve or disappear into dust.

  Shivers travel all the way down my spine in waves, over and over again as his tongue touches mine and our kiss deepens. I slip my hands around his waist and try to get closer to him, never wanting to let him go. Not now, not ever, never ever again.

  I lead him to the bed because it’s still made up, and I drag his wet T-shirt up and over his head, feeling his hot, naked chest as I go. His eyes never leave mine as I unbutton my damp top and then he’s kissing my jaw, kissing my neck and I’m pulling him on top of me, not wanting to wait any longer.