by Cate Kendall
Mimsy stuck her head in Jess’s office door as she left for the day, took a look at the piece, sniffed and walked away.
Jess hung her head in frustration just as Jimmy came up behind her, whispered in her ear, ‘I think it’s wonderful sweetheart. It’s only your first day: hang in there.’ His warm breath on her neck sent a delicious tremor through her body. He offered to walk her to the tram stop: ‘Don’t want you getting lost,’ he teased.
It was such a relief to finally be in the privacy of her own room that night – and doubly exciting to pull the crippling shoes off her swollen and blistered feet. But she’d made it through her first day.
30
...and furthermore, the town has the greatest potential as a newly developed retirement and tourist site, thanks to my own approved plans of an eco-village of multiple residences, which is now under threat thanks to this awful smell that now permeates the immediate vicinity.
The village can no longer tolerate the stench that is being created by this ridiculous hippie enterprise.
I urge you, Shire Council, to immediately close down this operation. The property is only zoned residential, not rural, so the residents, Songbird Patterson and Rainbow McIntosh of 38 Stumpy Gully Road, aren’t supposed to be operating anything more agricultural than a vegetable patch.
I need not remind you of the loss of rates revenue should my project not proceed due to this abhorrent landfill site that is being allowed to continue to operate.
I thank you for your time and look forward to hearing from you.
Yours sincerely ... etc, etc.
31
Tori had enjoyed buying the books, uniforms and shoes for the children’s new school. She’d had fun choosing Tupperware lunch boxes in the new Berrylicious colour range, then selecting smart Sigg drink bottles in designer patterns, splurging on Quiksilver backpacks and finally buying each child a full selection of the bright new range of Bonds underwear. Now that they lived on the coast it was clearly de rigueur for the children to have thick, bright bands of Bonds underwear showing above their boardies during beach swimming lessons. No one could accuse her of not being a cool mum, Tori had thought smugly.
Now, sitting on her porch swing, she couldn’t think of one more thing to buy them. She felt flat and bored. The children had gone off to Rainbow and Songbird’s to play for the afternoon and she was alone. Tori sighed and threw down the Country Road catalogue that she’d already read comprehensively several times. She gazed over at Jess’s paddock. Stupid, boring cows. They were only good for turning into shoes.
Tori checked her mobile. Still no texts. She’d sent messages off to half a dozen girlfriends, hoping for a natter with someone, but it seemed everyone was busy now that they’d all gone back to the city, leaving her behind.
She stared over at Jess’s house again and wished her friend were there to share a coffee and chat. Jessica had been gone for a month and Tori missed her terribly. They’d managed a quick catch-up in the city last week during Jess’s lunch break, but Tori didn’t want to dampen the occasion by whining about how lonely she felt, stuck in the country on her own.
She glanced at her watch and did some quick calculations; if she jumped in the car now, she could get to the shops in Frankston in under an hour, spend an hour there and be back in time to pick up the children. There was a cute little Smiggle shop in Frankston she remembered with a happy start. The children loved Smiggle, and it was important to start the new school year with lots of bright, fun stationery items. She felt immediately revived and rushed into the house to grab her bag and keys. It was fun to have a mission.
She jumped in her car, revved the engine happily, and steered out of the driveway. Thank goodness for reasonable shops at Frankston, she thought, speeding along the local roads. It was hardly Southland, but it was certainly better than the local shopping options. Apart from the occasional little boutique dotted around the peninsula (which she’d exhausted in her first few weeks in town), there was not much shopping joy to be had.
How do people survive down here? Tori wondered once again. They must do their shopping online, she mused. How dull. She much preferred the sight of excellent store merchandising, the tangible thrill of touching, smelling and just getting the vibe of an item. It was an art form, she thought happily, plugging her iPod into the car stereo and smiling as Michael Bublé’s seductive voice filled the car.
She’d always loved shopping. Her parents were just the same, she thought with an indulgent smile. They’d spoilt her rotten, and hadn’t it been fun? And what an education too; she’d learned how to behave in the best restaurants, the value of natural fibres over nasty synthetics and the importance of keeping up with the latest trends and fashions.
She flicked on the air-con as she turned onto Moorooduc Highway. If only her parents had stayed together. It had all got a bit ugly after she’d turned twelve. Suddenly the arguments that had formed a backdrop to their everyday lives had reached crisis point and they’d split up. It was only the shiny new trinkets each parent bought her that made that awful time bearable.
She pushed her sunglasses on to her head and rubbed her forehead. She turned off the music and, in the quiet that followed, thoughts of her difficult adolescence flooded her mind. Her mother and father had competed to give her the biggest gifts and most exciting treats. There’d been two weeks in Paris with her mum, a trip to Disneyland with her dad and an endless stream of toys and clothes, but actually none of it really seemed to help all that much. She had just wanted to be a family again.
Now her children would have a similar life. The thought brought a wave of nausea as she remembered finding Priscilla face down on her bed that morning, shuddering as deepthroated sobs tore from her.
Tori had sighed and sat down beside her little girl and placed a soothing hand on her back. She loved this room. She had redecorated it last year to help Priscilla get over the disappointment of not being selected for the aerobics team. They’d replaced the childish pink-and-white checks, white cane rocking chair and ruffled bed skirts with a Hawaiian theme. They’d draped frangipani lights from the window frame, found hula dolls at the huge antique barn, and had the room repainted in tropical aqua and cerise, with a mural of hibiscus down one wall. Tori was especially fond of the tropical island bed linen she’d found in the US.
‘There there, darling.’ She’d patted the little girl, remembering her as an infant and how difficult it had been to get her to sleep. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I ... I ... I ... miss ... Daaaaaad,’ Priscilla had sobbed.
‘But darling, you saw him yesterday: he came down and spent the whole day with you. You had a great time.’
Priscilla had sat up then, eyes blotchy and wet curls plastered to her flushed cheeks. ‘Yes, but I want to see him all the time, not just sometimes.’
‘Priscilla,’ Tori had tried to reason with her, ‘when he lived with us he used to work all the time during the week and play golf all weekend and you hardly ever saw him anyway. You’re actually seeing him more now.’
‘You don’t understand!’ Priscilla had screeched. ‘You just don’t get it!’ She’d thrown herself back down onto the bed and launched into another volley of sobs.
Tori had sighed. Her back was hunched. She’d caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and shaken her head in sad resignation. She had aged so much. Her posture was shot, her jowls sagged, her eyes were blue-bagged and her cheeks were flat and droopy.
Priscilla was wrong. Tori did understand. It wasn’t about missing her dad: it was about feeling abandoned, unloved. Tori had looked at the small shoulders shaking in misery and been unable to bear the sight of her child in so much pain.
‘Hey Priscilla,’ she’d said gently.
‘What?’
‘How about you and I have a cheer-up day tomorrow, while Dustin’s still on school camp? That’ll fix us up.’
Priscilla had slowly sat up, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She knew all about cheer-up days.
They were fantastic. She and her mother would start with a mini-makeover at a salon, then shop for new outfits. Then, looking beautiful, they would go out to lunch and finish the day by buying each other a present from their favourite gift shop, D’enfouissement. ‘Okay,’ she said in a little voice.
When Tori had left the room she’d felt triumphant and in control, but right now all she could think was how much her daughter’s life was turning out like her own childhood.
Tori gripped the steering wheel harder and smacked her lips together and ran her tongue over them. She did it again, and again. Suddenly she realised what she was doing. It was a childhood tic, and not one she wanted to revive. She’d spent a hideous summer with a circle of dry, chapped skin around her lips when she was thirteen. She pressed her lips firmly together and clenched her teeth, making a mental note to pick up some Aveda lip gloss at the shops.
Smiggle, she thought. Smiggle was bright and fun, and the kids would be delighted with their treats when they got home. She turned her iPod on again and let Michael Bublé sweep her away.
32
In her first weeks at Still Life Jimmy treated Jess like a princess.
He took her out for intimate dinners, stopped by her office with coffee, sent her flirty texts after hours, praised every new creation and walked her to the tram each night.
Jess was flustered by the attention at first, but after a week or two she decided she was flattered and excited to be pursued by such a stylish guy. She started to look forward to seeing him each day and found herself dressing with him in mind; anticipating his compliments and approval.
Jess sighed as she sat behind her desk at Still Life, peeking surreptitiously at him as he chatted with the other designers.
His outfit was classic Jimmy. He wore a baggy pin-striped, gangster-style suit with a vest, mauve shirt and purple tie and black fedora. His shoes were chunky burgundy platforms. She shook her head in admiration. On any other man the clothes would look ridiculous, but on Jimmy the outfit made for sophisticated chic.
Jess turned her attention to the materials on her desk: smooth river pebbles, lengths of bamboo and bundles of wire. She tapped the bamboo against her hand. The trouble was that Jimmy seemed to have lost interest in her. All the flirting and compliments had suddenly stopped in the past week, and she wasn’t sure why. Not that it mattered, she thought, putting the bamboo down and assembling the river pebbles into a pattern; she didn’t know if she was interested anyway, although the flirting had been fun. He no longer accidentally brushed his hand against her when they were talking, they rarely went out to lunch or dinner on their own anymore, and he had stopped favouring her with his soulful, long-lashed stares.
It was all very confusing, she decided, gluing the pebbles into place. But right now she had other things to think about. She was worried about Tori. They’d spoken this morning on the phone and her friend had sounded tired and lonely, but Jess only had a few minutes to chat on her way to the tram so she hadn’t been able to get many details. She must organise for them to have lunch again soon.
With a start, she realised Jimmy was standing in her doorway. She fumbled and dropped the rock she’d been trying to place. From the corner of her eye she could see he’d taken off his jacket and was wearing shirt-sleeve garters like a 1920s card sharp.
‘Hey, babe,’ he said, leaning on her door frame languidly. ‘Need to remind you about the staff meeting tomorrow morning, okay?’
‘No worries, all under control here. Everything’s good.’ She put a hand to her mouth to stop her babbling.
‘Cool.’ He nodded, smiled and looked at his watch, then pushed himself off the door frame and walked down the hall.
He ignored her for the rest of the day. When in the past he would have come out and listened in on her afternoon meeting with the design team, he now just continued working.
Jessica’s relationship with the staff had improved dramatically. After a very productive meeting where everyone agreed, for once, Jessica farewelled the team and stayed late to finish off a piece.
She was in the tearoom when Jimmy walked in. He leaned in front of her to pick up the coffee pot. Saying nothing, he stood very close, making his coffee as if she were invisible. She held her breath. He was so damn sexy with that little tuft of beard under his bottom lip. She stood stirring her tea, willing him to stay in her space just a bit longer.
He turned around to face her. ‘Is it stirred enough yet?’ he asked, and he put his hand on hers to still the relentless spoon circles.
That small intimate connection reverberated like a ripple of energy that spread out through her body. She could feel every biological symptom surge spontaneously: her lips swelling, her cheeks flushing, her pupils dilating, not to mention what was happening underneath her clothing.
Jimmy took her chin between his thumb and fore finger and kissed her so softly she suddenly knew the exact meaning of the word swoon. The kiss lingered until her lips parted. When his tongue met hers blood thudded in her ears and throbbed almost painfully through her body.
Then, as abruptly as he had kissed her, he stopped and wandered off with his coffee as if nothing had happened. It took Jess a few minutes to recover the ability to walk and as she took her tea back to her office, she shook her head in confusion. What the hell was he doing?
You don’t just come up to a person and sweep them off their feet then go and check your email, she thought. She should say something. No, she should give him the silent treatment back. No, she should go and confront him. No, she should ... oh hell, who knew?
For an hour Jessica’s thoughts whirled around her head; her body was on alert, charged with frustration. She’d had enough of his stupid game playing, she decided, savagely snapping wire with her pliers. There was no way she was going to sleep with a colleague anyway. She took a deep breath, pleased with her resolve, just as Jimmy reappeared at her door.
‘Coming?’ he asked, slipping his fedora on to his head, and looking deep into her eyes for the first time in a week.
‘Yes,’ she said.
33
Jessica leaned on her elbow and watched Jimmy fasten his baggy canvas trousers and pull a T-shirt over his head.
‘Why do you always leave straightaway?’ she asked. ‘It’s not even eleven yet.’ They’d been sleeping together for a month now, but he never stayed overnight.
He shoved his hair back with one hand and flopped down on the bed next to her. ‘We chat, we cuddle,’ he said and looked at her closely. ‘Oh, you poor sweet thing,’ he said, as if he’d suddenly had an epiphany. ‘Are you feeling a bit needy? Oh, that’s so selfish of me.’ He threw himself back on the pillow and reached an arm around her neck to draw her close. ‘Let’s talk.’
Trapped against his chest Jess didn’t know whether to tell him to bugger off for being such a condescending bastard, or to enjoy the extra cuddle. In the end she decided to ignore the annoyance that surged inside her and just keep the peace. ‘What shall we talk about?’ she asked finally.
‘Tell me what you’re working on.’
For the past week or so she’d been thinking of using recycled tins as the base for a more-affordable art range with a high-turnover that could take Still Life’s work to a broader demographic. She explained the plan to Jimmy.
‘Wow, that’s fabulous.’ He seemed genuinely impressed.
‘Really?’ she said.
‘Yeah, it’s great, but...’
‘What?’ She was instantly disappointed.
‘I don’t think Mimsy’s going to be too rapt, mon petit chou. You know how much she loves that Still Life is so exclusive. I’m worried she’ll say that by introducing a lower price point with a mass appeal we’d be committing market status suicide and our top-shelf customers would ditch us. See what happened to Stella McCartney when her label went to Target?’
‘Of course, you’re right,’ Jess said, embarrassed to have even mentioned the idea. ‘I feel silly,’ she said.
‘Never mind,’ he sai
d squeezing her closer to him. ‘Rookie mistake, could happen to anyone. Maybe you should just stick to the art, darling.’
Jess liked having the chance to share work ideas with Jimmy. The week before they’d talked for ages about a concept she’d had for an Australia-wide design contest, tapping into junior talent while simultaneously getting Mimsy into a much larger market. He was so encouraging, listening to her, prodding her to come up with the tin-tacks of each idea. It was really encouraging to brainstorm with him.
He was still aloof in the office, but Jess was accustomed to it now. She figured it was his way of avoiding gossip.
The next morning when she walked into the team meeting, she was struck once again by just how damn cool he was. He had a cotton scarf draped around his neck teamed with cargo pants and a leather bomber jacket. His black fedora worked perfectly, goodness knows how.
‘Children, sit.’ Mimsy stomped in, her barrel-like body launching into the high-back swivel chair at the top of the boardroom table. ‘Ideas? Suggestions? Epiphanies?’ she demanded.
Sventana put up her hand. ‘The store needs a seat. If the husband can sit, the wife will shop longer.’
‘Excellent. Go to Space; show me four photos. You know the colourway. Next?’
Sventana smiled smugly.
Jess thought it might be time to share one of her ideas and moved to raise her hand, but Jimmy cleared his throat to get her attention and frowned, so she changed her mind. She gave him a quick smile; thank goodness she had him to prevent her from making an idiot of herself.
‘No?’ said Mimsy. ‘Good. Next: we’re running an Australiawide contest. The Still Life brand is going national, people. We’re getting fresh ideas from young creative geniuses from all over the country. First prize is a job here. What do you think?’