Love, Lies and Lemon Cake

by Sue Watson

  ‘I always wanted to own my own café,’ he continued. ‘A trendy little place with a bakery somewhere near Sydney Harbour... serving breakfast muffins, pastries, eggs with everything. I wanted to spend my days baking cakes and my own speciality breads. When I decided to spend the summer here in the UK and my aunt Jen happened to be opening a deli, it seemed like fate... or perhaps she just took pity on me.’

  ‘It’s good training for your own place,’ I smiled.

  He nodded.

  ‘Did you come here with... anyone?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes—you.’ He looked around, pretending to be confused.

  ‘Ha, funny. I mean is anyone here with you in the UK?’

  ‘I only see you here.’

  And I can only see you, I thought.

  He looked down, started playing with the remaining lump of crust from his sandwich, then thought better of it and abandoned it to the birds.

  ‘I came to the UK with my girlfriend... She’s my ex now.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, it’s fine... We... we don’t want to be tied and... I met someone else.’

  ‘Oh.’ I was stunned. It hadn’t taken him long to cut a swathe through the Midlands. People today behaved strangely around each other, having sex within hours of meeting then saying goodbye and picking up where they left off somewhere down the line. The world had moved on, but who said we knew any better? They had the right idea, I suppose—no danger of ending up with a mortgage and a man you don’t love for twenty-two years like I did.

  We talked some more about his home, then we talked about Jane Eyre and Tess of the D’Urbervilles and wondered if what happened to Tess was her fate and something destined to happen.

  ‘I think she made some pretty crap choices,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure I believe in fate.’ I’d come to realise in recent months that, ultimately, we steer our own ship.

  ‘Yeah, but it isn’t always about bad choices... Sometimes life can hit you with a curve ball and take away your choices. My mum had no choices to make; she was just handed her fate—and my brother the same. It made me realise early how no one is totally in control of their life and where it's going.’ He gathered the packets and screwed them up tightly. For the first time ever, I recognised something like anger in him.

  I didn’t say anything.

  ‘Which is why,’ he continued, finding a much brighter tone from somewhere and tapping my knee with his screwed up handful of sandwich bag, ‘we all need to make the most of what we’ve got. And if we don’t have what we want now... then we should chase it, before that curve ball appears out of the sky.’ He had suddenly come alive and returned to the happy-go-lucky Dan I knew.

  ‘My mum always said regret is the most wasted emotion,’ I sighed, tearing up at the thought of Mum and how she’d never taken her own advice. She’d allowed regret to define her in the end, when it was too late and I was determined to be different.

  ‘Since I made my decision to live, I’ve travelled and I’ve seen some amazing sights,’ he said. ‘I’ve tasted wonderful food, slept with great women... and, yeah, realistically I may never achieve everything on my ‘to do’ list, but I want my regret list to be as short as I can make it.’

  I nodded. Dan was from another world to the one I knew. He saw things in a completely different way, yet we shared the same dreams and ideals, and I welcomed his challenging conversations and new perspectives a world away from the salon’s baroque mirrors and bad dye jobs.

  Perhaps I was just another on his list of ‘great women’ to sleep with and leave... and what if I was? Did it matter? Our time together would be short because he was leaving in a matter of months.

  ‘So, regrets... do you have any?’ he asked.

  Again I was touched at his interest in my feelings, my hopes and even disappointments... no one had ever asked me those kinds of questions before. Oh, god, where to begin?

  ‘Tragically, I have a very long regret list,’ I sighed, ‘and it’s getting longer by the day.’

  ‘Why don’t you turn it around? Dump your regrets and start a bucket list instead? He said, his fingertips gently reaching mine through the grass.

  ‘I always associate bucket lists with dying... I’d rather think of it as my living list.’

  ‘I like that,’ he smiled. ‘Yeah... a living list.’ He played with the words. They seemed to please him. ‘What's on your living list, Faye?’

  ‘Okay... My first is to be on a rooftop in New York, the city beneath me, a good-looking man in front of me, dancing, drinking champagne. I want to see a Santorini sunset, learn to ice skate, lose ten pounds, ride a Vespa through Rome, and make a wish at the Trevi Fountain, swim naked in the ocean—and since I met you, I’ve even added to my living list.’ I smiled at him. ‘I want to see your waves on Bondi... that olive tree you talk of in Tuscany; I want sex under the stars and... oh, a million other places.’

  ‘You mean you want to visit a million places or have sex in a million places?’ he teased.

  I looked at him and the old Faye would have blushed and become tongue-tied, but the new Faye brazened it out. I meant I wanted to visit a million places, but heard myself say, ‘Sex—I want to have sex in different places... under every bloody star.’

  He looked around like he was surveying the area for a suitable spot and we both started laughing.

  ‘There are a few things on your list I think I could help you with...’ He gave a wicked smile.

  ‘Yes, but where to start?’

  ‘I reckon sex under the stars is a good start.’ He moved his hand onto mine, very gently. Pins and needles shot up my arm... It was either sexual frisson or I was about to have a lust-induced heart attack.

  ‘Sex in strange places aside—what about your list?’ I said, to calm the hot flush that was creeping up my throat and no doubt turning my décolletage an unbecoming rashy red.

  ‘I want that café bakery in Sydney Harbour,’ he smiled. ‘I reckon I’d have a queue for my lemon cake... Will you come and buy some, Faye?’

  ‘Yes, I will definitely be in that queue,’ I replied in a slightly breathy voice. ‘The day I tick Bondi off my list, I’ll be straight down that coast to your café.’

  ‘I’d like to go back to Santorini too.’ He looked at me. ‘Only this time I’d want to see the sunset with someone I love.’

  He looked down and began plucking at the grass again. ‘I wonder if we’ll ever get our dreams.’

  I was lost. The rash was now rushing up into my face and I wanted nothing else in the world but to be with him in the sunset. I tried to compose myself.

  ‘I hope we can live at least some of them. I am determined to dance on that rooftop in New York, one way or the other...’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s the problem when you’re a dreamer; you never quite get your shit together to live those dreams.’ He looked up at me. His eyes went straight into mine and I melted.

  ‘Following your heart shouldn’t mean abandoning your dreams,’ I said, tilting my head to meet his eyes, ‘because sometimes our heart takes us to places we’d never even dreamed of.’

  He looked at me directly and I couldn’t think straight. ‘Did your heart tell you to come and find me today...?’ he asked.

  I nodded, and he kissed me, his tongue pushing gently but firmly into my mouth. My stomach exploded with tiny stars, and his hands circled my waist, bringing me closer to him.

  I’d never wanted anyone like I wanted him at that moment. I was jelly in his arms. The kiss was like a huge excavation of something from my past, a vague recalled memory of being young, being me. I was fifteen again and being kissed for the first time.

  We sat together on the grass, both wanting more, both knowing we couldn’t have more... not here on the grass in broad daylight. But we continued to kiss like the rest of the world had gone away. I saw and heard nothing else.

  I pulled away from him. ‘I don’t know what’s happening here, Dan.’

  He was looking at me, smiling and
puzzled at the same time.

  ‘Sorry, I must sound really stupid. It’s just I know you probably have lots of women in your life already, but I just want you to know, you’re lovely. You make me feel so happy, so different and... I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?’

  He laughed. ‘I love to hear you talk; I’ve never heard anyone talk like you. I love your accent and the funny things you say... but, yes, you’re talking too much,’ and he kissed me again.

  ‘Hmm, well, it just comes out that way,’ I said, feeling the need to defend myself as we emerged from another incredible kiss.

  He leaned back, resting on his elbow. ‘So, what makes you think I have lots of women in my life?’

  He put his hand gently and discreetly on my arm and was gently moving it up and down in a soothing motion. No one else could see; it was just between us and was the most erotic thing I have ever experienced.

  ‘Oh, you’re quite attractive... and you just seem at ease with women. And you had a girlfriend and you finished with her because you were seeing someone else, and...’

  ‘Whoa... hang on. I said I had met someone else; I wasn’t seeing someone else... That’s why Gabby and I ended it. I realised when I met this other woman that it wasn’t right... between Gabby and me.’

  ‘So you’re not seeing this other woman then?’

  ‘You tell me?’

  ‘How should I know?’

  He smiled and leaned towards me again. I wasn’t sure my heart could take another kiss; I was likely to explode and leave unset human jelly remains all over the picnic rug. But as I’d already come to realise, my willpower with Dan was like my willpower with food: I knew it was bad for me as it approached my mouth, but I was unable to resist.

  So we kissed again, this time holding on to each other while lying slowly back on the grass, our lips never parting, our heads together in the sunshine. His hand was on my thigh and I was on another planet. I was a different Faye Dobson: a world traveller, philosopher, reader of books, in love for the first time ever with Dan, the delicious deli guy, who actually listened to me and cared what I thought.

  ‘Faye, are you free one night next week?’ he asked. ‘We could tick off something on your list. My stomach did a flip.

  ‘Oh, er, yes...’ All I could think about was my underwear, my less than pert breasts, my thighs naked, and whether any of it was up to a night under the stars.

  ‘Okay, I’ll pick you up after work... I’ll teach you how to skate.’

  Up until now, I knew what I’d be doing on any given day in the next thirty years, but looking at him in the sunshine, his eyes twinkling, I thought, ‘I don’t care about next week, next month; I want to be with you now, for as long as I can.’ I was intoxicated by him and, in the spirit of saying ‘yes’ and not having regrets, I was ready to open up and have my heart broken. I was only just discovering that love wasn’t about white lace and promises—sometimes it happened when you least expected it, with someone you never thought possible. And it didn’t have to end in marriage, or even a steady relationship. It was two people just being together... He was only here until the autumn... but what fun we could have until then.

  12

  A WEEKEND LOST AND FOUND

  Sue was planning to spend a couple of days with her friend in London the next weekend, leaving on the Saturday after work. She wouldn’t be home until Monday night and, as Emma had now gone back and Dan was up North visiting long-lost Aussie relatives, I had the weekend to myself. I was looking forward to being alone. I welcomed the time to just relax and think.

  I was grateful to Sue but I didn’t get much peace at her place—what with her entertaining her dates, and her celebrity yoga on the mat in front of the TV. I’d also gone from Craig’s indifference towards me and what I did, to Sue’s obsessive checking on me. I appreciated her concern, but if I picked up a book, Sue saw it as a sign of depression and immediately tried to engulf me in wine and chatter: ‘We don’t want you left thinking on your own too much,’ she’d say. But that’s exactly what I wanted.

  So that weekend, despite missing Dan, I was really looking forward to undisturbed reading, my own music, and my own food—on my own. I was imagining the bliss of all this while waiting for my client to be shampooed and watching Julie Sharples (Wednesday cut and blow, boyfriend into bondage) being transformed into a princess bride.

  ‘Mandy’s doing my make up,’ Julie nodded enthusiastically. ‘She does lovely smoky eye make-up and I’m having a vajazzle too—a Vegas, that’s a landing strip with jewels on. Mandy does great ones... Dave can’t wait.’

  ‘I bet he can’t,’ I smiled. Given his penchant for bondage, that would be a wedding night to remember.

  Despite her drinking, sexting, swearing and sleeping around, Mandy was very artistic when it came to anything creative and her vajazzles were legendary. Her face make-up was good too, and once she'd asked if she could try out some new products on me, and when she’d finished, no one could believe how different and how much younger I looked.

  ‘Vibrator,’ Sue mouthed over Julie’s coiling hair.

  ‘What?’ I mouthed back.

  ‘Mandy’s got her a vibrator for a wedding present,’ she hissed. I rolled my eyes as Sue excused herself and trotted over to me, all tight lips and limp hands.

  ‘If you get chance, have a word and tell her not to be waving it about the salon. I’ve got Gayle Jones coming in this afternoon and she doesn’t want Mandy shoving a rampant rocket in her face.’

  ‘From what I hear, Gayle’s had worse shoved in her face,’ I smiled in response.

  ‘Gayle is classy—she only does it with millionaires and footballers, Faye, I don’t want her being offended.’

  I nodded. It all made perfect sense in Sue’s world, if not mine, and once my lady was finished I popped up to see Mandy and pass on Sue’s request. I’d wanted to check on Mandy anyway, as this weekend was the anniversary of her mother’s death and she hadn’t popped down to see us like she normally would. It was always a tough time for Mandy and I wanted to make sure she was coping.

  When I went into the Spa, she was waiting for Julie, the ‘gift’ wrapped and ribboned on the side. She had her head down, washing her make-up sponges.

  ‘You okay, love?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah. Fine.’

  ‘You know you can talk to me if you want to, Mandy,’ I said gently.

  ‘Thanks. You know how it is... it just hits you, on the anniversary and birthdays and Christmases... oh, man, every day really.’

  ‘I know, love. You’re not going to be on your own this weekend, are you?’

  ‘Yeah. Flick’s going away with her boyfriend and Dad’s with Andrea, so I might as well go out, get bladdered and forget about it.’

  ‘That’s not the answer, is it?’

  ‘No... but what else is there? No one gives a toss so I might as well get off my face and have a good cry.’

  My heart ached for her. I thought about Emma and where she’d be if I wasn’t around. There’s no one like your mum—I was a grown woman with my own daughter, and I still missed my mum.

  ‘Actually, Mandy, I was going to ask you a big favour,’ I started.

  She sat up, eager to hear, eager as always to help. She really did have a heart of gold.

  ‘It’s just that... Sue’s going away to her friend’s in London tonight and I’ll be all on my own. I hate being on my own, and I wondered if you’d mind coming over to keep me company... at Sue’s?’

  She flushed with pleasure. ‘Faye, you don’t even need to ask. I will be there, girlfriend. I’ll bring some DVDs. I’ll do your nails too if you like?’

  ‘Ah, thanks, Mandy, you’ve no idea how relieved I am. I was dreading being on my own,’ I lied. ‘I’ll order a takeaway and get a bottle of wine, shall I?’

  ‘Yay!’ She jumped up and down clapping her hands like a little kid and my heart melted.

  Then she stood up and ran at me, hugging me so hard, I felt tears welling up. Her head was i
n my neck and she whispered in my ear, ‘I’ll look after you, Faye. You don’t ever have to be on your own. I’m always here.’

  I nodded and opened the door to head back downstairs with a lump in my throat.

  ‘I’ll come with you and get the bride,’ she said, back in her usual loud Mandy voice, linking arms with me down the stairs the same way Emma did.

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot—Sue says don’t wave Julie’s wedding gift in the face of any VIP customers... Oh, and please don’t tease Camilla and have her doing anything with it inadvertently; she won’t know what it is and we don’t want an incident.’

  ‘Ha... I hadn’t thought of that. What if someone told Camilla it was a head massager and she had been chosen to massage all the clients’ heads with it? You are a bloody genius, Faye. That would be fucking hilarious.’

  ‘No, Mandy.’

  ‘Aw. It’s all right for you, Faye; you don’t need a vibrator now you’re humping that Aussie,’ she virtually yelled.

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘Oh, admit it Faye... you’re giving Deli Dan a good old humping...’

  ‘That is enough!’ Sue snapped. ‘Can you stop talking about Faye humping the deli man in front of customers please, Mandy.’

  ‘Has Faye been humping that guy from the deli...?’ the bride started.

  ‘For God’s sake. I just wish everyone would mind their own business. I AM NOT HUMPING THE GUY FROM THE DELI’ I yelled over the dryers... which had just at that moment been turned off, as the guy from the deli walked in.

  A wave of deep embarrassment and silent expectation swept through the salon. The only sound was Mandy, sniggering. Dan had clearly heard my outburst and was standing against the counter, defensively clutching The Great Gatsby to his chest like a shield. I walked stiffly towards him, everyone watching from under rollers and dye. Sue raised an eyebrow in the mirror at her lady and carried on cutting.

  ‘I just dropped this in... thought it might be on your book list,’ he smiled awkwardly.