Switch

by David Finchley

  As it is with most men, once Nathan had finished, he was ready to move on. He had learned over the years that this was not acceptable behaviour and Sylvia had always demanded a few minutes of what she called ‘cuddle time’ at the end of intercourse and Nathan obliged.

  Cassandra obviously did not need any cuddle time. After thirty seconds she sat up, dismounted from Nathan, reached for the sponge which she used to clean them both up and said ‘I’m starving Nathan. I haven’t had dinner. What about you?’

  Nathan realised that he too had missed dinner but was not feeling particularly hungry. Nevertheless he said, ‘No, I haven’t had dinner. I think I may have skipped lunch too. Yes, I could eat.’

  ‘It’s eight thirty. I think room service, don’t you?’

  ‘Okay with me.’

  ‘Grab the menu Nathan. It’s over there on the side table.’

  Nathan got off the bed, walked the few steps to the side table, picked up the room service menu, opened it and asked, ‘What would you like to eat Cassandra?’

  ‘I could go for a steak,’ she replied.

  ‘What have they got?’

  ‘There is a whole page on steaks here,’ he said looking at the menu.

  ‘Which one would you like?’

  ‘Eye-fillet, rare for me.’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ll have one too. Would you like me to order?’

  ‘Could you. Put it on my room. My treat. Oh, and check out the mini bar. If there isn’t a decent red there, order that too. A Shiraz if that’s okay with you.’

  ‘There is a 2007 Heathcote Shiraz in the mini bar,’ Nathan called out. ‘Will that do?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  Nathan dialled room service and ordered the two steaks, one rare and one medium. They came with roasted vegetables and a garden salad.

  Twenty-five minutes later there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Room service.’

  Nathan was still naked. He pulled the doona up to his chin. Cassandra had already put on her robe which was done up and opened the door. Two waiters in white jackets wheeled in a table, spent the next five minutes setting up their meals, not once glancing towards Nathan who was lying in bed, hoping he was invisible.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Cassandra as she signed the docket and the waiters left.

  ‘Let’s eat.’

  Nathan got out of bed, put on his boxers and they both sat at the table, opposite each other. Cassandra unscrewed the wine bottle and poured two glasses. She held up one of the glasses and said, ‘Here’s to coincidence.’

  ‘To coincidence,’ Nathan echoed, holding up his glass.

  They ate in silence. Nathan realised he was hungry and could see that Cassandra was too. She was devouring her steak which was rare, almost raw. Small rivulets of blood were running down her chin as she ate and she kept wiping them with her white napkin. They finished two-thirds of the bottle of red with the meal. Nathan was sated and a little woozy from the wine. They got up from the table. Cassandra sat down on the edge of the bed. Nathan was not sure what to do. Should he dress and leave? Should he stay a little longer? What was the protocol in this situation? He was ready for bed. To sleep.

  Cassandra solved his dilemma by tapping on the bed with her hand, indicating that Nathan should sit down next to her, which he did.

  ‘How was that for you?’ she asked with a mischievous smile.

  ‘Good, great,’ he replied. He realised he sounded pathetic. ‘Really, I enjoyed every moment of it,’ he said. Then he added, ‘I hope you did too.’

  Cassandra did not reply at first. She looked at him.

  ‘What do you want me to say Nathan? That it was fantastic for me too? That you are such a wonderful lover? This is my job Nathan. How much do you enjoy doing your clients’ tax returns?’

  Nathan was momentarily taken aback by her answer. She had a way of unnerving him. He thought the best response was no response at all, so he stayed silent.

  Then Cassandra put her arm around him, put her mouth to his ear and said in a whisper, ‘I did enjoy it Nathan. I don’t usually but I did with you. There is something about you Nathan, a sort of helplessness that I find endearing. And I don’t mind your looks at all. I think I like you a bit, Nathan Goodman.’

  Nathan felt he had to say something. He could hardly say ‘I like you too,’ that would sound pathetic. Instead he said ‘Thank you Cassandra. This has been a most wonderful evening for me.’

  ‘It’s Cassie, I’m Cassie to my friends. You are my friend Nathan, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’d like to be,’ he replied.

  ‘Okay, that’s settled. Now I think it’s time for you to get dressed and head back to your room. I need eight hours sleep or I’m a zombie and you’ve got your conference tomorrow. Where is it?’

  ‘It’s right here in the hotel .In the conference centre.’

  ‘Very convenient. Maybe we’ll run into each other again, but if not, take this.’

  Cassie reached into her handbag which was on the floor next to the bed. She pulled out a card and handed it Nathan. He took the card from her. It was black. In the centre of the card was the letter C in gold and under it was her mobile number, nothing else.

  ‘Thanks Cassandra, I mean Cassie.’

  Nathan dressed, slipped the card into his trouser pocket, and gave Cassie a peck on the cheek, said goodbye and left. He heard ‘Call me’ as he went out the door.

  The conference started at 9 am. Nathan ordered a wake-up call for 7.45 am. He jumped out of bed. He felt refreshed. He hadn’t slept so well in months. He shaved, showered, dressed and was down at breakfast by 8.15 am. He managed some fruit and had two cups of black coffee and a third cup outside the conference hall where he caught up with some colleagues from Melbourne and interstate.

  At 9.05 the Deputy Commissioner of Taxation rose to give the keynote address at the conference. His talk was the main reason Nathan was at the conference. James Peabody was known as a brilliant economist and an excellent speaker and Nathan was looking forward to hearing what he had to say. Peabody thanked the Conference Convenor for his kind introduction and then proceeded to detail the Tax Department’s plans for the next twelve months, which trades and professions they were going to concentrate their efforts on. It was an important speech.

  Nathan could see the man speak, could hear that words were coming out of his mouth but did not take in anything that was being said. His mind drifted to the evening before which replayed itself like a movie, starting with that first phone call and ending with the words ‘Call me’ as he left Cassie’s room. In the morning it all felt like a dream.

  Nathan’s view on life was that most of it could be controlled, planned. But last night, there was one coincidence after another. The switched bags which just happened to be identical. What were the odds? The same hotel. The sex, his mind lingered on that, as the words kept leaving James Peabody’s mouth, transfixing everyone in the room except for Nathan. He could see and feel Cassie as he relived their sexual encounter.

  He had never given prostitutes much thought before. The only example he had ever come across were the girls on the street in St Kilda, approaching cars as they cruised by. He thought of prostitutes, if he thought of them at all, as dirty, often drug addicted, plying their trade to feed their drug habit.

  But Cassie. She was far removed from that stereotype. She was beautiful, smart, and obviously successful, she could afford a much better hotel room than he could.

  He then began to wonder, how did she end up where she was? What road had she taken? She said she liked him. He wasn’t too sure about that. He realised that he did have some feelings for her, not just the sex. He would love to know her story.

  There was loud applause from all over the room, the speech was over. Nathan applauded too. It was question time and they would break for coffee.

  CASSANDRA (CASSIE) ROBERTS

  Cassie was born in the western suburb of Footscray. Her mother, Linda Roberts, was a nurse at the Western Hospital in Footscr
ay. Her father was unknown. It could have been any of three or four men, Linda had told people. She had never bothered to find out who it was and decided to bring up the girl on her own. Linda was what would have been, in those days, a free spirit. She was however a good nurse, very well regarded at the hospital where she rose to the position of Nurse Unit Manager of the Orthopaedic ward.

  Cassie was strikingly beautiful even as a little girl. With her black hair and blue eyes she stood out. Linda was blonde, so Cassie, once she was older, assumed that her father (whoever he was) must have had black hair too.

  She was bright, did well at school, when she actually bothered to attend. Linda had lost count of the number of times the school had rung her to report that Cassie had not shown up. When she confronted Cassie, she just shrugged her shoulders. Cassie was a bit of a tomboy. She played football and cricket with the boys and with her short hair, from a distance she looked like one of them. She had few girlfriends.

  By the age of thirteen she was beginning to blossom into a beautiful woman who turned heads wherever she went. At fourteen her body was fully developed and it was at about that time that she had her first experience of a sexual nature.

  An uncle, he called himself an uncle, but who was actually her mother’s cousin, a married man in his forties with two children, was a frequent visitor. As far as Cassie knew he was her mother’s only relative. Towards the end of one of his visits, Linda had to excuse herself to go to work and ‘Uncle Bill’ stayed behind with Cassie. When they were alone he offered five dollars to see her breasts. Cassie did so happily, she could not see the point of the request but was happy to pocket the five dollars. Linda had never been over generous in giving Cassie any money.

  She put the five dollar note into an empty coffee tin which she kept at the back of her wardrobe. Over the next two years there were many more payments from Uncle Bill as his visits became more and more frequent. Linda suspected nothing. She liked Bill and he was family.

  Initially it was five dollars just to look but when Bill asked if he could touch, the price went up to ten dollars. Nothing more than that ever happened and by the time Cassie was sixteen, Uncle Bill and his family moved to Western Australia where he had a job in the mines.

  By the age of sixteen Cassie had amassed about five hundred dollars. The coffee tin had become too small and was replaced by a larger biscuit tin which she also kept at the back of her cupboard.

  Two months after her sixteenth birthday Cassie left school. She was certainly bright enough to continue and complete her VCE but she had little interest in school and no interest in going on to tertiary study. She could not see the point in wasting her time at school any longer. Needless to say, Linda was not very happy with Cassie’s decision but she had long ago learnt which fights were worth fighting and knew that this was one not. She made her displeasure known to Cassie who, as was her habit, just shrugged her shoulders.

  One thing that Linda insisted on was that Cassie was under no circumstances to apply for the dole. Ten days after leaving school Cassie had a part time job at the local McDonalds and two months later she was waitressing in a chic café in Seddon, not far away from her home in Footscray.

  On the day of her eighteenth birthday she completed the Responsible Servicing of Alcohol course online and a week after that, started work behind the bar at the Royal Hotel in Footscray, even closer to home. Cassie loved the work and her employer loved to see her behind the bar. He insisted on her wearing ‘the uniform’ which amounted to any blouse as long as it was low-cut. This and her knock-out looks attracted the male customers to the bar in droves. By the age of eighteen her looks had matured further as had her figure and both attracted men like a magnet.

  There was always a male barman alongside Cassie. He was a giant of a man with a shaved head and a magnificent handle-bar moustache. His name was Clint and he had worked behind the bar at the Royal for as long as anyone could remember.

  If any of the men at the bar had any ideas of anything beyond ogling Cassie, Clint’s reprimand would stop them in their tracks. If that failed, which it sometimes did with the drunker ones, they quickly found themselves on the footpath, often flat on their face.

  The word soon went around and in no time Cassie stopped being harassed, beyond the staring which she actually did not mind.

  At the end of each shift, Clint always accompanied Cassie for the twenty minute walk to her home. Despite his size and physical prowess, Clint was a caring, sensitive man. He was in his early forties, had never married and there were rumours that he may have been gay, although no one was game enough to say that to his face.

  Clint had travelled extensively in his younger years and on their regular walks home he would regale Cassie with stories of the varied and fascinating places around the world that he had visited.

  Cassie happily continued working at the Royal for the next three years. The salary was adequate and the tips almost doubled it. Even after paying her mother board, there was enough left for her to fill a second and then third biscuit tin. The back of her wardrobe was becoming crowded.

  Because she worked nights, there was little opportunity for a social life. Her two days off were during the week, usually Monday or Tuesday when the Royal was its quietest. These were not nights when much socialising went on. This did not bother Cassie in the least. She had no interest in going on dates although there was no shortage of offers, all politely declined.

  Clint’s travel stories on their walks home ignited in Cassie a newfound desire to travel herself. She had never been outside Victoria, let alone Australia. She resolved that come what may, when she had enough money she would travel the world. She had no idea when that would be.

  In the meantime she began to explore the world through books. She joined the Footscray Public Library and spent many of her days off pouring over all the travel books that the library held. Cassie had a good mind and a retentive memory and after a few months she could speak with expertise about places around the world that she had never seen.

  But reading was not enough. She indulged herself and used some of her savings for a Foxtel package. She watched as many travel documentaries as were on TV and recorded those that were one while she was working and watched them on her days off. She could now experience the sights and sounds of those faraway places she had read about. At times, she would sit transfixed in front of the TV and try to imagine being there. Her desire to travel provided her with a goal and filled those days and evenings when she was not working. All in all she was content, at times even happy.

  And then it all came crashing down. At 10 pm one evening, alone at home watching a documentary about Machu Picchu in Peru, there was a knock at the door. Cassie opened the door to see two uniformed policemen with sombre looks on their faces. The older one introduced himself as Sargent Max Robinson and told Cassie that it was his sad duty to inform her that her mother was dead. Cassie knew that Linda was on afternoon shift and at 10 pm should still be at the hospital. It made no sense until the Sargent explained that there had been an incident at work. A psychotic person had attacked her mother, attempting to strangle her. He was pulled off by staff members but not before he had managed to injure Linda very badly. She was not breathing and attempts to resuscitate her failed. She was pronounced dead at 9 pm at the hospital where she had worked for the last ten years.

  Sargent Robinson handed Cassie his card and asked her if there was anyone she wanted him to call and if there was anyone she could stay with or who could stay with her. Cassie looked at the policeman blankly. She had heard and understood everything he had said to her but her brain would not allow her to process the information. After a pause she told him that she would be okay, took his card and the two policemen left.

  Cassie made her way back to the lounge room and sat down. The TV was still on. The spectacular scenery of Machu Picchu still filled the screen but she could not really see it or hear the voice-over which accompanied the beautiful pictures.

  She was not sure how l
ong she sat there. She had a vague notion of Machu Picchu being replaced by other beautiful scenery, she had no idea where. Eventually the fog in her brain began to clear. She recalled the policeman’s question ‘Do you have someone to stay with or is there someone who can stay with you?’ She realised that the answer to both questions was no. The only family she ever knew was Uncle Bill and he was in Western Australia, not that she would have contacted him, even if she had known his exact whereabouts.

  She had no friends really. Clint was the closest she had to a friend but she did not feel she could burden him with her problems.

  She must have fallen asleep as her next memory was waking on the couch the next morning. As she shuffled off to the bathroom, the memory of the previous evening came flooding back. As she sat on the toilet she began to cry, something she had not done for a long time. She showered and dressed, made herself coffee and continued sitting at the kitchen table, unsure what to do next. She could hear her mobile phone ringing. She eventually found it stuck between the cushions of the sofa. By the time she found it, the phone had stopped ringing but the screen displayed the number of the missed call. She rang the number and the phone was answered by a man who identified himself as Kevin Grant, the hospital administrator. He conveyed his deep sympathy to Cassie and informed her that her mother’s body had been taken to the morgue as the coroner had to investigate the death. He told Cassie that he was available to her should she need his help. She thanked him and hung up.

  She looked at her mobile and saw that it was just after 12 pm. She was due to work that evening. She telephoned the Royal. The manager answered and conveyed his condolences. Cassie wondered how he already knew but did not ask. The manager suggested she take a week off, they would cover her shifts. Cassie tried to convince him that she would be able to come in the next evening but the manager held firm.