‘No,’ was his reply. ‘I can’t really see the point. She is in Melbourne and I am stuck here. Sorry Martin. I mean, I live here. Doesn’t make for an easy relationship. And I don’t know what she meant by ‘call me’, probably just being polite.’
‘Arthur, don’t be so daft,’ said Natalie her voice rising.
‘If a woman gives you her mobile number and says, call me, she’s not being polite. She wants you to call her. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. When did this happen?’
‘Ten days ago.’
‘Ten days, Arthur! Wake up. Get with the program. How do you think Tracey feels by now? Ten days and no phone call. Not doing her self-confidence much good.’
‘I really hadn’t thought about it from her point of view. I suppose I should have called, even if was just to thank her lunch. I’m not very good at this. Out of practice.’
‘Arthur, I want you to call her, now! Go on, into your room and call. Make some excuse. Tell her you have been sick or that your phone was broken. Makes some excuse.’
This time it was Martin and he was sounding annoyed.
‘Can’t I wait until I have finished my meal? The lamb is excellent by the way, Natalie.’
‘No, Arthur. Look your plate is almost empty anyway. Get the fuck up and go and make your phone call,’ Martin was becoming more animated.
‘Okay, okay, I’ll do it.’
Arthur went to his room, took the note out of his bedside table and dialled Tracey’s number. It was answered on the third ring.
‘Hello, Tracey Turnbull here, who is this?’
Arthur was momentarily taken aback by the response. It sounded very businesslike. At least he now had a surname. There was a lot of noise in the background. It was 9pm; she was probably out, out on a date. Why did he listen to Martin? Stupid idea to call.
‘Hi Tracey, this is Arthur, Arthur Fromm. You remember we had lunch last week? Here in Eden.’
Her tone of her voice changed immediately.
‘Hi Arthur, great to hear from you. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call. What took you so long?’
‘Err, my phone, I haven’t been very well but I’m okay now. Nothing infectious.’ He was not sure where that last remark came from.
‘Your timing couldn’t be better, Arthur. We are doing a follow up story. The first one generated a lot of interest. Did you see it?’
‘No, I didn’t. I don’t have a TV. I mean, the TV is broken at the moment.’
‘I’ll be there next Tuesday. Let’s catch up. You owe me a lunch. What’s your number? I’ll call you when I get in.’
Arthur gave her his mobile number, they said goodbye and hang up.
‘How did it go?’ asked Natalie when Arthur returned to the dining room.
‘Look at his face,’ said Martin. ‘He’s beaming from ear to ear. How do you think it went?’
‘She’ll be here next week. To do another story in Eden. She’ll call me when she gets in.’
Arthur was trying his best to wipe the grin from his face.
‘I’d love to meet her Arthur,’ said Natalie. ‘Happy to check her out for you.’
‘Thanks Natalie, I’m not sure how long she is staying, didn’t say. I’ll see what we can work out. Thanks for dinner. I might go to my room now. A bit tired. Get an early night.’
Arthur went into his room, changed and went to bed. He wasn’t at all tired. His mind was racing and he couldn’t stop smiling. He did not fall asleep until 2am. He had to be up at 5am.
I think I want to come out,’ said Martin.
Arthur almost lost control of the van. It was his turn to drive. It was the next morning. He had been struggling to keep awake after only three hours sleep, despite two extra strong coffees. But this made him wake up.
‘Come out, Martin? Do you mean, come out as in, I’m gay?’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Arthur. I’m not gay. By come out, I mean I want to reveal myself. You know. The Foundation, the project. I want people to know that it’s me. Natalie agrees. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and when you told me last night that your reporter friend was coming to Eden next week, I thought it would be the ideal time to give an interview.’
‘Firstly Martin, she’s not a reporter. She is an assistant something or rather, not sure what. And secondly, I would hardly call her my friend. This friendship so far consists of a forty five minute lunch and a ninety second phone call.’
‘Arthur, don’t sell yourself short. I bet she’s got the hots for you.’ Arthur felt himself blushing, hoping.
‘Do you really think it’s such a good idea, Martin? You know what the press is like. You’ll be hounded. Forget about your privacy. Eight billion, Martin. They will descend like vultures.’
‘I thought about that too, Arthur. Natalie and I have discussed this. We are prepared to take the risk. And that’s not all. I, I mean we, want to make some changes, big ones.’
Arthur waited but wasn’t prepared for what came next.
‘I want to sell the dairy and if I can’t sell it I’ll close it. The people of Eden can buy milk from a shop like everyone else. Natalie and I want to travel. I’ve never been anywhere. Natalie has and she wants to show me the world. It will be our honeymoon. Lord knows I can afford it. Once the project has finished, I want to buy the Victorian and we’ll live there. Eden will still be our home.’
‘As far as I know, it’s not for sale,’ said Arthur. ‘I asked the agent once just out of interest. He told me the owner does not want to sell.’
‘Arthur, weren’t you the one who once told me everything is for sale if the price is right?’
‘Yes, I suppose I did. Yeah, I’m sure you could buy it if you wanted to.’
Neither man said anything more. Arthur was thinking, what about me. It suddenly dawned on him he would be free to leave the job, leave Eden and return to Melbourne. The prospect of that had always excited him before, but he realised that he was feeling a tinge of regret. He didn’t say anything, but Martin did.
‘I haven’t forgotten about you, Arthur. I will notify Centrelink that your position no longer exists, and you’ll be off the hook with them. Don’t worry about that. And Arthur, don’t think I’ve forgotten everything you have done. This whole project, the Foundation, none of it would have existed without your help. Since you are being terminated, you are entitled to a redundancy payout. Natalie and I have discussed this and we feel that ten million would be fair. Natalie actually suggested twenty, but I think ten would be more than enough to set you up for life. Twenty might make life a little too complicated.’
This time Arthur did lose control of the van. He had to brake suddenly to avoid an oncoming car and pull the van over to the side of the road. He was having difficulty breathing. ‘I don’t know what to say, Martin. I never expected. I never thought…’ He could not get a coherent sentence out.
‘Steady Arthur. Take a few deep breaths. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you while you were driving, but I was dying to tell you, couldn’t hold it in any longer. You deserve it, every penny. You have had enough shit in your life and this money can turn it all around. And if you play your cards right you might have someone to share it with.’
Arthur could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He turned his face so Martin couldn’t see them. He did not speak. He couldn’t. After a few minutes he had composed himself sufficiently to start up the van and drove back to the dairy. Not another word was said for the rest of the trip.
Tuesday came and went without a phone call. By Wednesday lunchtime, Arthur was sick of waiting and decided to go on with the aim of finding the TV crew. He was not successful.
He spent Wednesday evening at the Red Lion, drinking alone in a corner booth. He excused himself from dinner and neither Martin nor Natalie needed to ask why.
Thursday morning’s delivery round was conducted in silence. Arthur began to wonder whether he had misheard Tracey and she was not really due on Tuesday, or perhaps it was Tuesday of next w
eek, not this week. But he knew that he had not made a mistake. She had been or was still in town and had not called. On Thursday evening, he did not even bother going out. He spent the evening lying in his bed, fully clothed, staring into the ceiling and trying to come to terms with disappointment.
Martin offered Arthur to drive, which he declined, something he had never done before. Martin knew better than to ask or make any comment at all. At five minutes to ten, Martin was easing the van into the parking space when Arthur’s mobile rang. Arthur had been sitting quietly, eyes closed. He jumped to the sound of the phone, pulled it out of his shirt pocket and pressed the talk button. Before he could say hello, he could hear Tracey’s voice at the other end.
‘Hi Arthur. I’m in a rush. Can’t talk now. Will call back later. Are you free for dinner tonight?’
Arthur was too stunned to reply immediately and after a few seconds managed to stammer. ‘Yes, I’m free. I’ll wait for your call.’
The line went dead. Arthur kept sitting, holding the mobile phone in his hand.
‘Come on Arthur, we’re home. You can get out of the van now.’
Arthur opened his door and got out. He managed to drop the phone and quickly picked it up and put it back in his shirt pocket.
‘That was Tracey, Martin,’ he said.
‘No kidding, Arthur. I would not have ever guessed. Now wipe of that silly grin and go and get changed.’
Arthur changed. He stayed in his room, sitting. The mobile was on the small table next to the chair. He had not had lunch. He wasn’t hungry. He sat and waited for the phone to ring. This is stupid, he thought. I’m like a bloody teenager waiting to hear if the girl will go to the high school social with me.
It was 2pm and Arthur was still sitting, waiting. At 2.15pm the phone rang. He answered it on the second ring. It was Owen, asking him to join him and Glen for a drink that evening. Disappointed, Arthur politely declined, explaining that he already made other arrangements. Perhaps next week.
Three minutes later the phone rang again and as he answered it Arthur heard:
‘It’s me Arthur. Sorry about before. I was just going into a production meeting and couldn’t talk. It’s been crazy here the last two days. We didn’t get in till late Tuesday and haven’t had a minute since. Sorry I didn’t call earlier. Are we on for tonight?’
‘Yes,’ Arthur replied, ‘I’ll book for dinner. There really is only one place to eat. The local pub. The Red Lion. The food is good though. You’ll be surprised. I’ll pick you up at ten to seven. Where are you staying?’
‘I’m not twelve, Arthur. You don’t need to pick me up. I’ll meet you there. The Red Lion. I know it. I’m at the Eden Motel. I’ll walk over and meet you there at seven.’
The line went dead before Arthur could reply. He telephoned the Red Lion and made a reservation for two at 7pm. He asked for a corner booth in the bistro, which fortunately was available.
At a quarter to seven, Arthur was standing outside the Red Lion. Pacing would be more accurate. He was wearing denim jeans, a light blue shirt and a suede jacket, a recent purchase. He had looked at himself in the mirror before he left home and he was happy with what he saw. Not bad for an old codger, not bad at all.
‘Hi Arthur.’
He heard her before he saw her. There she was, approaching quickly. She was always in a hurry, he thought. Tracey looked even more beautiful than he remembered. She was wearing a red dress, short, just above her knees. Her shoulders were draped in a black shawl. He noticed the bright red lipstick, same colour as the dress and a smile, which lit up her face made him feel weak at the knees.
Tracey gave him a quick peck on the cheek, took his arm and said.
‘Come on Arthur, let’s go inside. I’m freezing and I’m starving, let’s eat.’
Arthur opened the door and they walked in. He could see heads turning as they strode through the bar on the way to the bistro. He noticed Glen and Own at a table staring. Glen was smiling approvingly.
They were seated at the table. Arthur offered Tracey the padded seat in the booth. He took the chair. The waiter filled their water glasses and left two menus and a wine list. Arthur thought he saw a little smile on the waiter’s face too.
‘What a relief to sit down,’ Tracey said. ‘I’ve been on the go non-stop. Thank God we’re done. Try to watch it this time. I think it will be on next Wednesday. Is your TV fixed?’
‘Err, not yet. They’re waiting for a part,’ was all Arthur could think of saying. ‘But I can watch it on someone else’s TV. Will you be on?’
‘No Arthur, I’m the director’s assistant remember. I’m not the on air talent, although I’d like to be.’
Arthur pretended to study his menu. He already knew what he was having, what he always had, steak, medium rare, probably the rib eye this time.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ he asked, noticing the waiter approaching out of the corner of his eye.
‘Do you think they make a Long Island ice tea here, Arthur? If they do, I would love one. With Diet Coke.’
‘I’m sure they do. The bar tender here can do just about anything.’
Gary the waiter, who Arthur knew quite well approached and before he could ask, Arthur said, ‘One long island iced tea, diet coke and for me a Glenfiddich, the eighteen year old, thanks.’
‘A single malt man, Arthur. I’m impressed.’
Arthur smiled. They were getting off to a good start. She was impressed already.
‘What do you suggest, Arthur? This menu looks like a carnivore’s delight. It’s steak, steak or steak.’
Arthur felt a sense of panic. Shit. What if she didn’t eat meat? Disaster. He was about to point out that there was fish, pasta and even a vegetarian dish on the menu when Tracey said, ‘Relax Arthur, I love steak. What’s good here? I like my steak thick and rare. Just like my men,’ she added.
Arthur had no idea what that meant but hoped that he was that type of man.
‘I’m having the rib eye, it’s excellent.’
‘I’ll have the 500 gram porterhouse. I really am starving.’
She must have some appetite, Arthur thought. Luckily, the steak at the Red Lion was a generous portion and came with large hand cut chips and a salad. That should fill her up, he thought. Gary approached with the drinks, which he set down.
‘A porterhouse for the lady, Gary, rare, and a rib eye for me, medium rare,’ Arthur said.
‘Cheers,’ Tracey said lifting her drink and they clicked glasses. Tracey took a long sip of her drink, sucking on the straw that was provided. Arthur sipped his scotch feeling the warmth of the drink fill the back of his throat.
‘This is a good long island, Arthur. You’re right, the barman here knows his stuff.’
So far so good, Arthur thought. She liked her drink, she loves steaks, and she is impressed by me already. He felt optimistic about the evening.
‘Did I tell you, I’m staying the weekend, Arthur? The others went back this afternoon. I think I deserve a weekend off and it will give us a chance to get to know each other.’
‘That’s great, Tracey. I can show you the sights. Eden really is a charming place.’
‘I think I’ve seen all I want to see of Eden, Arthur. It’s you I want to see more of.’
Hmm, thought Arthur. Does she means she wants to see me more or does she want to see more of me? He was intrigued. And excited. He felt like pinching himself to make sure it was real. It was all going to well. He sensed that Tracey was coming on to him, but realized that he really had no experience of what that felt like.
‘I’m free all weekend, Tracey,’ he said and added. ‘I’m all yours.’
That slipped out before he had a chance to think about what he was saying and immediately regretted it. Had he gone too far? He looked at Tracey. Her face had a mischievous smile and her right hand reached across the table and held his.
‘Be careful what you wish for, Arthur,’ was her reply.
What did that mean? Before
Arthur could say anything else, their meal arrived. They both finished their drinks and Gary had already poured them each a glass of Shiraz, which neither had yet touched.
‘Excellent steak,’ Tracey said as she chewed on a sizeable chunk of meat, rare, a small amount of blood appearing at the corner of her mouth.
She really is hungry, Arthur thought. They ate their meal in relative silence, only the occasional ‘Mm, this is good,’ coming from Tracey. Soon their plates were empty as was the bottle of Shiraz. Arthur was full, and he realised, a little tipsy.
‘Dessert?’ he asked. Surely she could not eat anymore. He certainly couldn’t.
‘No thanks, Arthur. I’m done. That was great. How about you get the bill and we get out of here?’
‘Sure.’
He motioned to Garry, making the writing sign in the air with his hand. The bill appeared seconds later, Arthur paid in cash, leaving a generous tip and they were off.
The Eden Motel was only two hundred meters up the road and they walked there in five minutes, a little unsteadily. This time Tracey was not rushing. Perhaps the food and the wine had slowed her down, thought Arthur to himself.
‘Would you like to come in, Arthur? It’s only 9.30.’
‘Yes, I would.’
Arthur had not been inside the motel for some time and was surprised by how nice it looked. He knew it had been renovated and to a high standard he could see. An ensuite bathroom had been added and Tracey was heading there.
‘Sit down Arthur, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. I need to pee, all the alcohol.’
Arthur looked around the elegantly furnished room for a place to sit. There weren’t many choices. Basically, there was a small leather armchair covered in clothes and the bed, a queen size, which had been made up and had nothing on it. He chose the bed. He sat on the foot end of the bed and waited for Tracey to emerge. He heard the toilet flush and the water running in the basin. The sliding door opened and there was Tracey. She just stood in the doorway. She was wearing a black bra, which accentuated her ample cleavage, and black lace panties, which from where he was sitting, Arthur could have sworn were see through.
The Eden Effect Page 10