Silver Lining

by Diana Simmonds

  Malcolm snorted. “You girls are a menace. One bonk and you get married.”

  “We were not married; we had an open relationship,” Amanda pointed out grumpily.

  “Maybe, but no wonder you get yourselves in these tangles.” He hugged an affronted-looking Amanda and laughed, but the expression of disbelief still widened his eyes and he shook his head. “I really can’t take it in,” he said in wonderment. “That she could actually think of doing this. Are you upset?”

  Amanda grimaced. “I’m sort of upset that I’m not more upset, if you see what I mean. I thought I’d be heartbroken, or something, but I just feel kind of numb and relieved. It makes me think I’m very shallow.”

  “Shallow is good,” Malcolm observed and kissed the tip of her nose. “You know where you stand with shallow. Deep can be dangerous. True love is always a pain in the arse.”

  “Arse! I love that you say ‘arse’ and not ‘ass.’ It shows you haven’t been totally co-opted by America.”

  “Why thank you, I think that’s a compliment.” Malcolm peered at her through his eyelashes once more and raised one eyebrow in a gesture reminiscent of his sister. “But I have noticed that you didn’t pick up on my true love bait,” he remarked.

  Amanda sighed and flopped back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling mainly to avoid her friend’s all-seeing eyes. “I don’t think I believe in true love, Mal,” she said softly. “At least, not for me. I’ve actually never thought ‘this is the one!’ Do you do true love? Do guys do true love?”

  Malcolm shrugged and frowned. “I don’t know about the ‘One True Love’ thing, but yeah, I’m looking for love, if I’m honest. I’m tired of flings and bored with partying. And there are more reasons than you can poke a stick at to not do one-night stands anymore; including that it’s too embarrassing at my age. I think it’s okay for guys to say they want roses ’round the door and someone to come home to—someone special. Don’t you—really—deep down?”

  Amanda shivered as an image of Clancy’s quirky grin flashed before her eyes, but she shook her head, dismissing the thought. She took a deep breath and said, with uncertainty, “No, really probably not. I think it would be too dangerous because I’d probably pick the wrong kind and that would lead to misery—like my mom. I guess that’s what I don’t want to do.” She sat up and peered at Malcolm with wide eyes. “Wow, I’ve never really put that into words before, but I think that’s it: I’d rather not get in too deep and then there are no regrets.” She noticed Malcolm’s raised eyebrows and went on quickly, “Well not many. And this time it’ll cost and I’ll have to get the apartment redecorated and stuff replaced. I don’t really care about that but I am pissed she broke my Frakes sculpture because that was deliberate.”

  “So every woman is going to be like your father, is that it?” Malcolm didn’t sound convinced.

  “No. Yes. No, that’s not what I mean. Well, maybe it is sort of. I just don’t want to ever be like my mom was when her heart was broken in tiny pieces. It was too scary.”

  “You were a kid, that’s why you were scared. Broken hearts mend and they’re part of being human.” Malcolm sounded firm and sure.

  Amanda’s eyes widened and she snorted on a giggle. “Boy, and you’re the great expert, I suppose?”

  Malcolm grinned and shrugged. “Okay, you win that point, but you wait and see. One day there’ll be a whoosh and a ping and you’ll have an arrow in your heart.” He shook his head at Amanda’s expertly blown raspberry. “You just wait and see,” he repeated solemnly and again Amanda laughed out loud.

  “Right, I’m changing the subject. So what are you going to do about work?”

  Amanda stopped laughing, flopped back into the sofa and rested her bare feet on his thigh. “Good question. I spent the rest of the day on the phone to contacts, even the headhunters who’ve been after me, and the answer is the same everywhere—not a great time to be out of a job, Amanda. Subprime isn’t popular out there in mortgage-land. Everyone’s running for the hills or hiding under their beds and nobody—but nobody—is hiring. Last month I could pick and choose. Now there’s nothing to choose from.” She wrinkled her nose and examined her perfect, frosty pink toenails. “I was told by someone who was dying for me last month that I am now unemployable. It’s like I’ve got leprosy.”

  “You could get a gig as a waitperson.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Well, you could so, Miss High’n’Mighty. But seriously, you might have to think about doing something else. Because I think your current line of work is what is called—in scientific terms—toast.”

  Amanda stared at him and frowned, then poked his leg with her toe. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Deadly. The ship is heading for a huge great shoal and there’s nobody at the wheel. Wrap your head around that, my darling, the sooner the better, so you can outswim the rest of your pals and get to dry land before them.”

  Amanda frowned some more and shivered, despite the warmth of the apartment. Then she said, in a very small voice, “I don’t know what to do, Mal, everything’s collapsed in a heap and it’s all happened in twenty-four hours. I’ve never been on a scrap heap before and I haven’t a clue how to get off. I’ve been working at being this me ever since I started college and now nobody wants this me. The only person who’s going to be really pleased is my mother, because she never liked this me anyway. What do I do?”

  He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You can do anything, Amanda. That’s the great kick. Suddenly you don’t have to keep on keeping on. You’re not broke. You don’t have a girlfriend, so you don’t have any ties. Your mum is healthy and has her own life; she doesn’t need you to help out at Heron Creek. You’re on your own.”

  “Oh thanks, that’s supposed to be comforting?”

  “Don’t be a duffer! It’s exciting. You can make some real decisions for a change.” He grabbed her other hand and held them both hard. “Like I told you—come with me to Australia for a bit. You can take stock, have a decent think, see the country, cuddle a smelly koala, or whatever. But come on! Don’t be a cream puff. This is actually the sound of a door opening even though you think it’s just slammed on your fingers!”

  Amanda’s heart began to race and it wasn’t just fright. Despite her ingrained habit of careful, strategic thinking she sensed a growing excitement and possibility that she couldn’t quite ignore. I could do anything—I’m free, the feeling whispered. But she shook her head anyway.

  “You’re going home and you’re going back to Clancy, don’t forget. And—don’t forget—she hates me.”

  Malcolm snorted and rolled his eyes heavenward. “You got off on the wrong foot. She doesn’t hate you, she just has a thing about not messing about with married women.”

  “Okay, so she despises my job—my ex-job—and she despises my loose morals and you want me to land on her doorstep with you?”

  Malcolm’s merriment knew no bounds. “Loose morals—I like that, but you have to admit you did slip her the tongue five minutes after you met.”

  It was Amanda’s turn to try not to laugh. “Malcolm! That’s gross! And anyway, she started it.”

  “True, I guess you’d both had a lot to drink and were just hot for each other.”

  “We were not! We argued all evening, until…” Amanda shrugged and tried to stem the blush that was threatening to rise up her throat.

  “Until you both did the old tongue tango.”

  “Stop! It was Top Gun that did it. Well the theme song anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t be admitting that in public if I were you, it’s so not cool.”

  “Oh, and you’d know all about cool, Mr. Mean Malcolm, but I don’t want you going around telling people I’m hot for your sister. It was one time only.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It was too. And that won’t change even though I’ve split up with Natalie. Clancy’s not my type.”

  “Didn’t look like that from where I
was standing.”

  “Let’s change the subject again. Do you honestly think Clancy won’t mind if I come stay with you for a bit?”

  “I honestly know she’ll be fine. I’ve talked to her and she said—and I quote—‘just as long as she’s house trained and doesn’t get under my feet.’”

  Amanda gaped at him. “Are you serious? That’s not a friendly invitation!”

  Malcolm grinned. “Well, no, actually she said ‘tell her she can come just as long as she doesn’t cause another global financial crisis.’ I think she really likes you, Amanda, honest.”

  “Huh. Well, if that’s what she’s like when she likes someone, I hate to think what it’d be like if she didn’t.”

  Malcolm grimaced. “Not good, that’s for sure. But she’s a decent sort really. I told her you’d split with Natalie and what happened and she was really concerned.”

  Amanda didn’t look or feel convinced. They sat in silence for a while. Malcolm looked at her with his eyebrows tied in a quizzical knot of inquiry. Amanda held her finger in the air as a thought came to her. “How are things with her girlfriend—Jan? Jane? The holiday when it rained?”

  Malcolm chortled. “Oh God, Clancy and Jane have been getting on each other’s tits for years. They’re like Martha and George in Virginia Woolf. But I bet Clancy has never kissed Jane like you two kissed—that was totally le jazz hot!”

  “The what?”

  “It’s Victor/Victoria—you know—Julie Andrews in drag?”

  Amanda groaned again and remonstrated her friend, “Malcolm! You and your old movies. But I do wish you’d drop it. Are you trying to put me off the idea of Australia now?”

  Malcolm raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, no more mention of the tongue tryst. But go on, say you’ll come.”

  Amanda tried to avoid his laughing eyes as she considered the possibilities. Finally she had a useful thought. “What about the apartment? It’s a mess. I can’t just leave it.”

  Malcolm shook his head. “No problem. I’ve thought of that. I’m giving up the lease on this place and Ted doesn’t want to take it on. He’ll be looking for somewhere else—why not get him to move in and take care of organizing the repairs? He stays on until you decide what you want to do, then you can both go from there.”

  Amanda considered this new idea in silence. Malcolm poked her thigh with his toe and said impatiently, “Come on, Amanda. I didn’t have you figured for chickenshit.”

  Amanda stared at him for seventeen long seconds then groaned theatrically and hurled a cushion at his head. He caught it and whacked her with it.

  “Chicken.”

  “I am not. And it’s not that easy. I can’t just decide to…to…” She waved her hand in the general direction of JFK. “Fly off to Australia.”

  “Why not? What’s stopping you?”

  The sound of a key turning in a lock saved Amanda from an immediate reply. Ted entered the apartment, bringing a rush of briskness and good cheer with him.

  “It’s getting cold out there,” he said, and began to unwind a long red wool scarf from around his neck.

  “There you are, and it’s spring in Sydney,” Malcolm said triumphantly to Amanda. “You’ll love it. Tell her she’ll love it, Ted.”

  “You’ll love it,” Ted said dutifully. “If Malcolm says so, it must be true.” He slipped out of his overcoat and threw it and the scarf over a chair-back before flopping onto the second sofa and stretching out his legs with a happy sigh. He grinned at his friends and said, “Are you two going to hog that merlot or can an honest working man get a drink?”

  After they finished the bottle of wine, opened another and phoned for Thai takeout, Amanda rang Eleanor with a sinking heart, knowing she would get nothing but encouragement from her mother to embark on Malcolm’s madcap scheme.

  “What a fantastic idea!” Eleanor said immediately. “When will you be leaving? Will Natasha be going with you?”

  Amanda giggled. Natalie was something else about which her mother had never offered an opinion, but the way she never seemed able to get her name right shouted louder than any openly expressed disapproval.

  “No, Natalie won’t be going anywhere with me, ever again. It’s all over, but I’ll tell you about that when I come and see you, if I may?”

  “Absolutely, darling, when? And when will you be leaving for Australia?”

  “Mom! I haven’t decided whether to go yet. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Of course you’re going. It’s a wonderful opportunity. And I’ll visit and we can cuddle koalas or something.”

  “Malcolm says they’re smelly. And I haven’t even begun to think about all the other poisonous things. Snakes, spiders, toads, sharks…”

  “Sharks aren’t poisonous, darling, you don’t have to worry about them.”

  “Mom!” Amanda heard herself laughing, but Eleanor was unstoppable.

  “And you can get to know Clancy properly—that will be good. She’s such a lovely woman…”

  “Mom!” This time Eleanor had gone too far. “We thought we’d come up on the weekend? Are you very busy?”

  “Lovely, darling. It’s just the usual, and I have Sally and Tillie here to help so the place will run itself. Tell the boys I haven’t seen them since Thanksgiving—almost a year ago.”

  “Thanks, Mom, that will be great.” Ted and Malcolm nodded vigorously and whooped agreement. Amanda hushed them, half-heartedly.

  “Make her say yes, Eleanor! Australia is calling!” Malcolm yelled toward the phone.

  “He’s right, darling,” Eleanor said into Amanda’s ear. “This could be a wonderful new start for you and I want you to go. This is the silver lining to your cloud. After all, what else are you going to do? You were never any good as a waitress.”

  “Mom!”

  * * *

  The rest of the week passed in a blur of alternating fright and excitement as Amanda steadily checked off each item on a list compiled with the help of Malcolm and Ted. The list didn’t include getting around to buying a new copy of Clancy’s book, but she did it anyway after detouring into Borders on her way back to the apartment. C.N. Darrow. How was I supposed to know her silly damn name is Claire Nancy Darrow Darling? she grumbled to herself, recalling how foolish she had felt on realizing how impressive and infuriating C.N. Darrow’s book had been among her ex-colleagues. She opened it, resentfully, that evening and found herself going back to it every spare minute after that. She realized all over again that Clancy’s foresight and analysis of what was happening to the world economy was more than prescient and even more correct.

  By the time she closed the paperback on the last page it was after two in the morning and Amanda’s confidence in herself was jolted even harder than it had been by the eFrères layoff. More than once during the evening she had found herself with her iPhone in hand, about to call Malcolm and tell him she’d changed her mind. But each time her thumb hovered over the screen she had been unable to tap it. What would she say? Malcolm, I’m not coming to Australia because your sister scares me shitless? Or how about, I’m not coming to Australia because your sister knows more about my business than I do and that means she thinks I’m a loser? Or maybe, I don’t want to go on this trip, Malcolm, because I can’t face your sister again. I’ve had enough of the way she makes me feel?

  That was probably the most honest thing she could say, but in the end Amanda had to admit to herself that she was too scared to tell Malcolm she was too scared. That meant she would simply have to get on with it and go. She could always get on a plane home again at a day’s notice. It wasn’t as if she would be trapped on the underside of the world with the meanest woman she’d ever met. Would it?

  * * *

  Most of the items on the list were crossed off by Friday evening when the three met at Grand Central to catch the train north into Connecticut. Amanda had been amazed to discover, during her preparations, that she didn’t need vaccinations or other precautions against fatal diseases or
toxic biting things; that Australia was actually quite civilized and well stocked with essentials such as Prada, manicurists and beauty salons. The most surprising thing, though, was the revelation that Malcolm’s hometown was nowhere near Sydney or Melbourne.

  “Don’t call it Mell-born, otherwise people will know you’re foreign,” Malcolm instructed. “It’s Mell-bn. Okay? Try it.” They were sitting opposite each other on the train. Ted was beside her and obligingly recited, “Mell-born.”

  Amanda repeated it after him.

  “No! Can’t either of you hear the difference?”

  Ted sniffed, turned his shoulder to them and slid down in the seat to sleep. “You can do Ossie pronunciation class without me; just make sure you don’t leave me on the train.”

  Malcolm sighed and turned to Amanda. “It’s Mell-bn. Cut it short. ‘Bn’ and anyway, we’re not going there.”

  “Mell-bn,” Amanda recited defiantly. “Mell-bn, Mell-bn, Mell-bn. Bn bn bn. So, where are we going?”

  “Two Moon Bay. It’s south of Sydney and it’s a little place of about two and half thousand people. It used to be fishing and timber cutting and now it’s mainly tourism. But Clancy says that it’s in the doldrums and everyone is running scared. So she reckons it’s time I came home and helped out before the whole place collapses in a heap.”

  “Help out doing what?”

  “Family dairy farm. We sort of inherited it when our aunt and uncle decided they wanted to mooch around Australia in a Winnebago. They decided to stay in the Top End and that was that.”

  “Heavens,” Amanda exclaimed. “Then what?”

  “Clancy was working in Sydney. She went back to Two Moon to sort it all out and discovered she really loved it. She’s been going back ever since for as long as she could and she was thinking of chucking in the full-time job on the Herald when she got the ax anyway, so that’s where she is now.”

  Amanda thought about the tall, elegant blond and tried to picture her milking cows and shoveling dung. It wasn’t an image that came easily. Then another question sprang into her mind. “So how come she wrote the book?”