by Sue Watson
‘Yeah...we could, couldn’t we?’ I said, warming to the idea.
We talked over the next few days about the possibility of me going to Sydney with him and the more we talked the more real it became. I started to imagine a life out there, and as he talked about the sun and the beaches and the life, I could see myself starting again out there with him. Then, one morning I had a text from Emma. Dan and I were eating Greek yogurt and honey in the kitchen as I read the text. ‘Oh poor Em, she and Phil have finished, she must be so upset,’ I sighed. It was another white-hot day and we were planning a walk and a swim in one of the beautiful blue coves, but now I just wanted to talk to Emma and comfort her.
I looked at Dan. ‘She really cared about Phil. It will hurt her now, but in the long run I have to say it’s probably for the best. You don’t realise when you’re young how important it is to be with someone who shares your... passions. I don’t mean sex... I mean like you and me; we love books and food and we could fill our whole lives with it. From what Emma said, they didn’t have much in common.’
I tried to call her but couldn’t get through, so went into town to try and get a signal. When I finally got through, she wasn’t picking up and I had to leave a message and I worried for the next few hours that she was upset and I wasn’t there for her to talk to. I kept telling myself she was a grown woman now and could deal with this break-up without cuddles from Mum... but I felt bad I was in another country when she needed me and wasn’t even on the end of the phone for her. At the same time I kept telling myself I had finally shaken myself free from guilt and obligation and, as much as I adored Emma, I had to make the most of these last few days in Santorini. I was also seriously considering my next move, and if Emma was okay with it, I was going with Dan and ticking Sydney Opera House by night off my list—he said he’d provide the fireworks.
He was aware that I hadn’t been present that day, worrying about Emma, but, being sensitive, he hadn’t pushed me. ‘You okay sweetie?’ he asked. It was mid afternoon, and after Emma’s text I hadn’t felt like doing anything until I could speak to her, so Dan had gone into town and bought some food and wine. He was pouring me a glass and rubbing my back as I sat on the balcony checking for a signal.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I have to remember that you kids have tragedies of Greek proportions, which breaks your heart and worries you to death, and within twenty-four hours it’s all over and it’s, “Mum, stop nagging” again.’
He smiled. ‘You are a very wise woman. That’s why I love you.’
It was a couple of hours later when I finally got through to Emma. It was such a relief to hear her voice—despite my hard talk, I couldn’t be happy if she wasn’t, and it was my job now to make her feel better. I just wished I could hug her and make her hot chocolate with mallows and let her talk and talk... As it was, I could only soothe her with my words.
‘Mum, I don’t want you to worry,’ was her opening line.
‘Why does that make me feel worried?’ I asked, trying to keep it light. She didn’t answer.
‘Emma, what happened?’
‘He said he just didn’t love me... he thought he did, but he doesn’t.’
‘Oh, darling.’ I was looking out at the sea from the balcony, feeling helpless just thinking how far away she was.
‘He says he thinks I’m a great person... and he’s there for me, but he doesn’t want to be tied down”. She started crying and my own heart broke with hers.
‘Oh, darling... I know you must be feeling awful right now and I don’t want to just blurt out a load of clichés, but it will get better—trust me.’
‘He said we’d get married... so what happened? What have I done to make it all go wrong?’
‘It's not you, Emma. He just changed his mind... didn’t know what he wanted. Please don’t even think it’s something you did or the way you are... It’s not...’
‘It’s too late, Mum...’
‘It’s not too late, Emma. Yes, I know, you loved him, but you’re young; you’ve got your life ahead of you and this time next year you’ll have a degree another boyfriend and I promise you will barely remember him...’
‘I can’t ever forget him. Mum, you don’t understand...’
‘I do, sweetie. It feels so intense now, like you’ll never forget this... him... but in time...’
‘I’m pregnant.’
21
A RED DRESS, A SUNSET AND NO GOODBYES
We’d both cried over the phone. I’d gone from telling Emma she was stupid to have made the same mistakes I had and had thrown away her life, to assuring her that everything would be all right. ‘It will all be okay, Em. We can do this. I just need some time to think it through and I want you to get some sleep, too. I’ll call you in the morning. I’m coming home.’ I put down the phone. I’d been sitting on the balcony watching the sunset and now Dan joined me and was looking at me.
‘What is it?’ he asked, looking worried.
In between my tears I told him everything and he knelt down, putting his head in my lap, arms round my waist. We talked for a long time that night—watching the sun go down and come up again.
“I can’t come to Sydney with you now Dan.”
He looked up at me.
‘We could... we could spend our time between your home and mine?’ he offered half-heartedly, knowing it would be financially and practically impossible.
‘I’m a mum... I can’t turn it on and off and skip around the world in between, even if I could afford it. She needs me there.’
The next day Emma and I talked for a long time on the phone and I told her if she wanted to she must finish her degree, perhaps moving to a course nearer home. I couldn’t believe she’d done the same as I had and become pregnant halfway through a university course—but as far as I was concerned, that’s where the similarities ended.
I couldn’t let her do what I’d done and give it all up just for one moment of madness, one moment of lust. I wanted her to have it all and, as the baby’s father had clearly stepped out of the picture, the only person who could help her achieve everything she wanted and needed was me.
I was giving up the freedom and possibilities of my new life, the one I’d fought for, but as much as I loved it and as much as I loved Dan my daughter came first.
I had to go home and suddenly couldn’t wait to see Emma, to make sure she was okay and to look after her. Despite my doubts and fears for her future, I was excited about the baby and all the possibilities this new life would bring. I wasn’t going back to my old life—that would be impossible. I was a different woman now and this time life would be on my terms.
* * *
On our last day in Santorini, while the rest of the island siesta’d, Dan showed me how to make a Greek Mezze with hummus, tsatziki, taramasalata and stuffed vine leaves. Then we made lamb kleftiko by stuffing a leg of lamb with feta, fresh oregano, onions and garlic. We were having a last supper, both wanting our last night together to be perfect. Typical Dan—he wasn’t going to even let our parting cast a shadow and we laughed as much on the last day together as we had on the first.
‘Kleftiko means stolen in Greek,’ he said, chopping onions. ‘People used to steal lambs to make this dish—which is where the name comes from. ‘We’re going to slow-cook it in this big pot; it will be juicy and tender and real sweet... The air will be filled with the fragrance of lamb and Mediterranean herbs while the sun goes down.’
‘You are so clever,’ I smiled, reflecting on how much I’d learned from him. ‘It reminds me of when we first met and you gave me the history of Serrano ham.’
‘Yeah, you love it when I talk deli.’ He stopped chopping and looked at me. ‘It was such a short time ago that we met... kind of blows me away; I feel like I’ve known you forever. Wow... how someone can come into your life and just... change it...’
‘Yeah, I’m a different woman to the one you met in the deli in February,’ I sighed. ‘You’ve had quite an effect on me.’
‘You’ve changed me too. I feel more grounded, don’t feel like running away from stuff I can’t change. You’ve helped me deal with the guilt I was carrying about my mum’s death. I can now face all this stuff with my brother—I need to do it for him... and for me too. Yet... I can’t imagine how I’m going to exist without you. Nothing has any colour when you’re not there.’ He wiped his hands on a tea towel and put both arms around me. ‘It’s gonna break my heart to say goodbye.’
‘And mine too,’ I sighed, leading him into the bedroom, leaving the lamb to slow-cook and become tender and juicy and fragrant.
* * *
Later, I packed my case and, rediscovering the red silk dress in that old rucksack, I put it on for our final dinner together.
We sat together on the balcony that night to watch our final sunset; ‘You look beautiful,’ he said. ‘I will always remember you here, like this in your lovely red dress.’
In the night, I woke up and put my arm out to touch him. He wasn’t there and my heart jolted at the realisation that I might never lie with him again. I opened my eyes to see him at the window in the cold blue moonlight and I thought about how much he’d given to me. I wasn’t the self-conscious, unhappy woman in the panda hat, too scared to say boo to a goose or jump on a plane anymore. I was a red-dress-wearing woman with a grip on life and the confidence to follow her heart, trust her instincts and enjoy all that life had to offer. Even the decision to go back home was born out of my own desire; it was something I wanted to do. I was excited about the future, about a new life and the opportunity to support Emma and show her that having a baby is the beginning, not the end. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes I had, because I would be there to guide her and show her that it’s possible to be a good mum, without losing sight of yourself along the way.
I'd lost me for a while, buried under work and worry and guilt, but with Dan’s help I’d uncovered the Faye Dobson I’d been looking for all these years. He’d firmly but gently pushed me out of my comfort zone, forcing me to face my fears and realise it was possible to be a stronger, better, happier me. In Dan’s world, life had to be grabbed by the balls and it was never too late to do or achieve anything.
I am Faye Dobson. I am forty-three and I have a tattoo. I have sex under the stars, ride pillion on fast mountain bike rides and cliff dive into the sea. But now I am ready to go home, to my daughter who needs me.
I stood up and walked over to him at the window. Slipping my arms gently round his waist, I rested my face on his warm, damp, naked back.
His head tilted slightly and he turned to embrace me. I held on to him tightly, my head on his chest as he bent down and gently lifted me back onto the bed, and I realised that this was everything in this moment. I couldn’t allow myself to think or care about the future—I loved him now while we were together, and that was all that mattered. And when I looked into his eyes, he was crying.
We lay together for the last time, both awake, both silent, both knowing this was it.
‘I wish things had turned out differently, Dan... I wish we were flying away together—but you warned me about the curve ball, and it landed for both of us. Just know I love you and there will always be a lemon-cake-sized piece of my heart with you in it, wherever I am.’
‘We’ll meet up maybe...?’
‘Maybe, but we both have our real lives to deal with, and perhaps when you’ve settled back home you’ll meet some tanned young Aussie girl with a taut tummy and firm thighs and...’
‘No.’
‘I think if we’d stayed together, I would have always wondered if I was denying you your chance to be a father.’
‘You wouldn’t... I told you... I don’t want kids.’
‘Not now, but children are the most wonderful thing in life and if you stayed with me, it wouldn’t have been possible. Now you can decide what you really want.’
‘I know what I want.’
I ruffled his hair. ‘Okay until we can live on the same continent, why don’t you start up that bakery breakfast café you’ve talked about? Who knows, one day a lady and a baby might just fly over from the UK and join that long queue for lemon cake?’
He squeezed my hand and we lay in silence for a while. I couldn’t sleep and neither could he.
‘Dan, let me leave in the morning. Don’t wake up—let’s just remember the good times here together, not the goodbyes.’ I couldn’t see his face, but reached up with my hand to feel him slowly nodding.
In the morning I woke up, kissed him on the mouth as he slept and silently walked away. Perhaps Sue was right, it’s all in the stars, we have no say in what ultimately happens in our lives and Dan and I were never meant to be forever. My heart was broken as I climbed into the waiting taxi under a brilliant blue sky, but I had no regrets as we set off. I gazed through the window at the last of Santorini knowing I’d always have the wonderful memories. And I’d never forget how a gorgeous Australian helped me turn my life around over a long hot summer of love, lies and lemon cake.
EPILOGUE
Stars are emerging slowly through the dusky evening. Sounds of the city drift up through the night air and I’m sitting at a table for two, champagne on ice, two glasses.
I check my watch and call Emma. ‘Mum... is it everything you thought it would be?’
‘Yes, it’s wonderful. I can’t believe I’m finally here, Em! I can see the Empire State. I wish you and Rosie were with me.’
‘Yeah, me too but she’s just too young for the flight, she’s been a bit cranky today; I reckon she’s missing her grandma.’
‘Not as much as I’m missing her,’ I smile, thinking of my perfect, pink, chubby little granddaughter.
‘Anyway, Rosie says happy birthday, Grandma. She’s making a cake for when you get back... Well, I’m baking it—she will supervise from her bouncy chair,’ she giggles.
My heart melts. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Mum... I know you wanted to do this trip, but I hate the idea of you being alone on your birthday. Are you really ok?’
‘I’m fine. Ryan Gosling’s on his way he never misses my birthday... but joking aside, hey, this is perfect. Who gets to actually achieve their dream? I’m so lucky, Emma.’
We talk for a few minutes about Rosie’s sleeping patterns, Emma’s exams and our new house, bought with my half of the money from the old one. I tell Emma about the Warhol exhibition I've seen and how delicious the Magnolia Bakery cupcakes were that I ate this afternoon in Central Park in the sunshine.
‘A perfect birthday,’ she sighs. ‘And there’s me stuck inside revising for my finals.’
‘All worth it, Em. You will have a degree, a career and a beautiful daughter, all at once. Anything’s possible. We can both do whatever we want to—and between us, Rosie will be fine. Give her a kiss, tell her I love her and I’ll see you both in three days.’
I put down the phone and pour myself a glass of champagne. It’s stinging cold and I sit back, thinking of little Rosie, three months old and already the soon-to-be recipient of several New York designer outfits, souvenirs from her over-indulgent grandma. I glance around at the other hotel guests sitting under the stars and wonder about their lives, their loves. I like my life, I like the way I look and I like the way I feel; I’m confident, in control, and to others I probably seem like a sophisticated older woman in New York on business... my business.
This is a woman who a couple of years ago would have thought twice about getting a train on her own, had never flown, never stayed alone in a hotel and wouldn’t dream of ordering a bottle of champagne just for herself. And yet, here I am, in my red silk dress, drinking champagne on that rooftop.
I take out the postcard. Not bad—almost a match; even the waiter had mistakenly brought two glasses, which fit the picture better than one. Two glasses—how ironic. I smile, finally content, happy, free.
The night has quickly swallowed the golden dusk and I look up at the stars.
‘Is this seat taken? I believe it has t
he best view?’
For a second I think the waiter must be Australian, but I know that voice, the raised inflection after every sentence, filled with Aussie sunshine... and my heart almost stops. I look up and there he is, beach-blond hair, tanned, leathery face, beaten-up old rucksack. Dan. As delicious as ever.
I yelp and jump up, hugging him, losing myself in his arms.
‘I thought you were in Oz?’ is all I can say through happy tears.
‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he smiles, dropping his rucksack and taking a seat without letting go of my hand.
‘When you said in your email last week what you were planning, I just had to share it with you. I emailed Emma; she said it was a great idea, told me where you were staying and here I am. We thought you’d be okay with it... you are, aren’t you?’
‘I am very okay with it,’ I beam.
Unable to take my eyes away from his, I pour him a glass of champagne. He hands me an envelope.
‘Happy Birthday, Babe,’ he smiles, raising his glass.
I open it and gasp, looking at him across the table. ‘A plane ticket to Rome?’
‘Yeah... all booked for next month. We meet at Rome Airport and take the pistachio-green Vespa from there. Em said the date fits in with your degree course—you don’t start until October?’
‘That’s right. I’m so excited about it and... now you and... this.’ I am clutching the ticket, still looking into his eyes, just drinking him in.
‘I’m finding life tough without you Faye and I figure if we can’t be together all the time, we should meet up once or twice a year in a special place... Let’s add to our living lists and tick them off one by one,’ he says, his blue eyes twinkling.
‘Yes, yes, what a brilliant idea,’ I nod, and in the distance the sound of a lonely saxophone drifts through the night, meandering along the chords of ‘Happy Birthday’. A waiter appears from across the pool and, as he gets closer, I see he’s carrying a cake, sparkles shooting from the top, lighting up our faces as it arrives at the table. Dan is smiling. ‘I knew the picture wouldn’t be complete without that sax,’ he smiles.