by Sue Watson
My fear that Saffron was about to leap from behind a bush, Fatal Attraction style, and try to strangle me was only slightly tempered by the look on his face.
‘You never told me she saw me as a threat,’ I said, wondering what else he might not have told me. Was their break-up messier than he’d led me to believe? Was I the reason?
‘She said I was obsessed and the only way I’d get over you was to go back to you.’ He was folding and refolding a napkin with great concentration, then he looked up at me.
I felt so guilty. ‘Oh God, and now me being here has ruined everything for you as a family.’
‘No, it isn’t like that. Saff was always hung up on her ex… He’s back on the scene now too. Funny how we both kinda clung to each other back there for a while, both waiting for our exes to come back. If Clover hadn’t happened, Saff and I would just have been a few lonely nights.’
I wondered again what she was like, what made her tick. I didn’t feel comfortable talking about Dan and Saffron, but I had to know about her, about them.
‘You’re so vague about Saffron.’ (I couldn’t call her ‘Saff’ as he did, it felt too familiar.) ‘It’s as though she doesn’t exist as a woman, she’s just Clover’s mum.’
He leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair, indicating he clearly didn’t want to get into this. ‘I don’t mean to talk about her in that one-dimensional way, I suppose it’s just how I see her.’
It was getting late, there were no other diners out on the decking now, just the two of us and Clover and it seemed Dan had clocked off.
‘Did you ever love Saffron?’ I asked, holding her baby in my arms.
He sat for a while, his head in his hands. ‘It’s all so complicated, it’s like when you were with Craig and you met me and felt like you should do one thing, but wanted to do another. It was all okay until Clover – I didn’t feel like I had to make any choices, but a baby changes everything.’
So they’d really never had their love story and even having this beautiful baby together hadn’t changed that.
He leaned forward and put his hand on my arm as I held his tiny daughter. It felt strange, but lovely, like a complete circle – then I reminded myself that Clover was another woman’s child, I didn’t belong in this circle. I knew what I wanted – I wanted him and this life more than anything – but I wasn’t sure it was mine to take.
‘Stay,’ he suddenly said into the silence. ‘Please stay here in Sydney with me?’
How long had I wanted to hear those words, and how happy they made me, but…
‘I don’t know. Things aren’t the same – you and I are both at different stages in our lives. How can it work, Dan?’
‘Who knows? There aren’t any guarantees, you know that, but we’ve got to take the leap, that’s all being in love ever is.’
Hearing him say he was in love with me made my heart lift a little but at the same time I had to be rational, it wasn’t just about us.
‘I feel like it’s a huge leap. I’d be living here in your life and…’
‘Faye, I lived in yours. It’s your turn to make a decision to stick or twist.’
He was right, but there was so much more to consider now. For a start there was Clover, lying in my arms, who knew nothing of the conversations going on above her sleeping head. This little child was completely unaware that her life was in our hands, a good part of her future could be decided tonight.
Saffron and Dan had both been caught up in a lovely accident, their lives forever tangled. Was I able to make a life for myself in this web? In the ashes of his relationship with Saffron, was there a future for me and Dan?
‘I need some more time to think, Dan. My decision’s not just about us, it’s about this little one.’
‘I understand, but I want you in my life, Faye, in our life.’
As I gazed out into the darkness now scattered with stars, Dan went back into the café and came out again with Clover’s buggy. He gently took her from me and settled her, covering her in an extra blanket; though it was still warm, the breeze from the water was fresh. He handed me a throw from the back of one of the chairs and, pulling Clover’s buggy towards us so we could see her, he pulled his own chair closer to mine.
We sat in silence for a long time, the lapping of the water, the fading goodbyes cut by clinking of glasses as customers left and staff cleared up. Eventually even that faded, and when the restaurant manager wandered outside looking for Dan, she smiled.
‘There you are. Do you want to lock up tonight?’
Dan nodded. ‘Yeah, thanks, Amy, it’s been a good night. Busy, eh?’ he said, putting the restaurant keys on the table and taking a good look at me. ‘Oh… Sorry, this is Faye, she’s my… girlfriend.’
Amy smiled. I fizzled. I loved the sound of the word on his lips, it made me feel like singing ‘Hallelujah’. Loudly. But I didn’t – Amy might have judged.
‘Liking the weather here, Faye?’ she asked, looking me up and down.
‘Lovely,’ I answered, glowing at the fact he’d introduced me properly, no hiding, despite the fact that I wasn’t sure what that meant anymore – what did the future look like as Dan’s girlfriend?
‘Can’t believe how he’s transformed this place,’ she looked at me. ‘The grub’s fair dinkum too, eh?’
‘Yes, he’s very talented.’
She nodded slowly, and giving him a wink, she said goodnight.
After she’d gone, I looked at Dan. ‘So I’m your girlfriend?’ I said, sounding like a teenager.
‘Do you mind?’
‘No, I like it – just need to get used to it again.’
He picked up a corner of the throw around me and pulled it over my shoulder. This brought his arm across me and his face closer to mine, and I just knew he was going to kiss me, and as his lips came towards mine I eagerly anticipated the kiss and went to meet it. This time it was real and full of meaning. This was Dan, who could be himself with me, who had nothing to hide anymore, and I was ready to take it all on. Yes, I could do this, I could be with him here and we’d work through the rest: we’d find a way.
I folded myself into his arms, now lost forever in each other, nothing but us and the big, black sky. I felt like I was floating, a feather, free and light, all the guilt blown away on the cool evening breeze. Then, suddenly, a splutter and a cry emerged from the now-thick darkness. My heart clenched, we weren’t alone, and Clover was hungry! We pulled apart quickly, both flipping back into the moment and laughing at the baby’s impeccable timing.
‘I don’t think she approves,’ I said.
‘I think she’s cool with it,’ he laughed, reaching into the buggy and plucking her out.
I watched him lay her gently in his arms as he pushed a bottle into her mouth, but she rejected it, spluttering and objecting quite fiercely to being fed this way.
‘She always does this…’ he sighed. ‘She’s hungry but she won’t take the milk.’
I got up and gently took the milk bottle from his hands and he watched me as I rubbed the teat on Clover’s upper lip to let her feel for it with her mouth. She immediately took the teat and was soon suckling away, her eyes barely open, full-on baby tantrum swiftly averted. Dan was still looking at me as I sat back down in my seat, and the look on his face was admiration and pure love.
Later, as he walked me to my taxi, we took the long way and kissed again on the quayside. I loved our kisses in the dark, enveloped in night; I could erase the parts I didn’t want to see and told myself we were both free to fall in love again.
I climbed into the taxi reluctant to leave him, and he made me promise I’d meet up with him the next day. He wasn’t working until late so suggested he and Clover show me some more of Sydney.
‘We’ll go off the tourist trail, take you for a picnic,’ he said, shutting the door of the cab. I liked the sound of that, it’s how I imagined being in Australia would be like, and I wanted this so much – even with our baby chaperone.
<
br /> I waved through the window as he stood on the kerb with Clover asleep in her buggy, a wonderful tableau.
Walking through the hotel lobby and taking the lift, I wondered how Saffron had given him up so easily. And as the lift shot upwards, my stomach formed tight little braids of love and lies – and everything in between.
24
Freshly Shucked Oysters and Tongola Billy
‘Can you believe this day?’ Dan said as we settled down on the water’s edge at McKell Park, on the shores of Sydney Harbour. It was indeed another beautiful day in paradise and he was showing me how the locals spend their time off. People were swimming in the harbour, barbequing on the grass littered with picnic baskets and packs of raw meat. Children filled the air with whoops and laughter and dogs barked excitedly under this amazing sun in this special place.
‘It’s a secret sanctuary,’ Dan said, then smiled to himself, as a child ran over his feet, followed by a yapping dog, ‘that the world and his wife, kids and dog knows about.’
Grassed landscaped terraces stepped down into the harbour from manicured gardens. Magnificent mature trees surrounded the area, and if it wasn’t a Sunday, I’d imagine it really could be a secret sanctuary.
‘It’s just beautiful,’ I sighed, watching Clover on her blanket, kicking her legs, tightening her little fists. Enjoy this time, baby girl, I thought, because it’s only now you’re really free.
‘Yeah, it’s one of my favourite places, you can get married here,’ he shot a look at me. ‘I always thought about this place… you know, when I asked you…?’
I felt suddenly awkward, still angry with myself for saying no, for breaking his heart – but knowing at the time I’d had no choice.
We let the silence fall, and like pink balloons disappearing into the bluest sky, my sadness and regret was swallowed up. I looked out onto lush green meeting the blue of the water, and instead of thinking of the wedding that never was, I dared to hope. A warm Australian spring, the purple sea of jacaranda trees, sun shimmering through their lavender-hued lace, and a couple, hand in hand. I saw only silhouettes in my head, but it was Dan and I laughing in the sunshine, running to the registry office, me in a white dress and short veil, both in flip-flops, a bouquet of wild flowers caught in my hand. But almost as soon as the image was downloaded, I wiped it from my hard drive. I couldn’t ask for this – I’d had my chance and had to let it go.
‘I wish things were different, that you’d waited,’ I said.
‘For what? For ten, twenty years or never? You told me not to wait… You said it was over, Faye.’
‘I know, I know and…’ Then I realised he might think I was blaming him, that I resented Clover, or Saffron. ‘Clover makes up for everything,’ I said, holding a teething rattle she gnawed happily on.
‘Yeah, but promise me you won’t leave. Once I’ve had a chance to sort things out with Saffron…’
‘Dan, let’s just enjoy today and not worry about tomorrow.’
‘I thought that was my line?’ he laughed.
‘It used to be. I think I’m chilling out and you’re becoming more uptight in your old age,’ I said.
He pushed me gently in reprimand, and as he did so, he caught my arm and pulled me towards him. We sat for a while and watched Clover, who was now sleeping, exhausted from the leg waving and arm stretching baby workout she’d just done on her blanket. I gazed around me at the sun peeping through the trees, the birds singing, and Dan here with me, his baby sleeping – and I wished life was always this simple.
‘So, let’s get this picnic started,’ Dan suddenly said. Food was always his best way of communicating, and as he brought out of the basket a beautiful olive-studded loaf, cheeses and charcuterie, I felt loved.
We ate slowly, savouring the soft, doughy bread, with salty olives, and the cheeses were delicious.
‘Taste some of my Tongola Billy,’ Dan said provocatively, with a twinkle in his eye. I could only imagine Mandy’s reaction to that offer if she was within hearing distance, I’d never live it down.
‘You Australians are so coarse,’ I giggled as he proffered a lump of farmhouse cheese apparently made from ‘the milk of thirty organically reared Toggenburg goats’.
‘You can tell it’s made by Swiss expats,’ he said as we munched on the strong, nutty cheese, ‘such a strong rind formation.’
‘I’ve missed that,’ I smiled, looking into his eyes.
‘You’ve missed strong rind formation?’
I laughed. ‘No, I missed you banging on about where the food comes from, which goat, which patch of land… I’ve missed it.’
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, and this time when he reached for me I let him put his hand on mine. It sent a tingle through my whole body, and I knew we couldn’t go on like this because I was starting to sweat again. I longed to say ‘I missed you too’ but I didn’t want to turn the day into a misery fest where we both looked back with regret.
‘I made cake,’ he said, later, when I was so full after all the cheeses I could barely think about cake. I said barely. He brought out a plastic box, and inside was the palest, lightest lavender sponge, smothered in rose icing and crystallised rose petals. The fragrance of the rose and lavender hit me as soon as he opened the box.
‘An English summer garden,’ I sighed.
‘Yeah… Makes me think of you, fragrant and delicious,’ he said, cutting a slice.
I laughed, but my heart did a little dance as I bit into the delicious, light sponge. ‘When did you have the time to make this?’
‘Clover woke me at 5 a.m. and suggested we bake,’ he said. ‘I’m adding it to the café menu.’
‘You’re keeping the lemon cake though?’ I asked.
‘Of course, we’ll always bake lemon cake… It’s where it all started, you and me.’
I smiled, happy to know whatever happened, he’d always serve lemon cake, because it reminded him of us.
‘This could have been our wedding cake…’ He caressed my arm and I felt my eyes well with tears, the taste of the cake now overwhelming me, my feelings for him just filling me up.
‘You have to stop,’ I said seriously. ‘You’re making me feel sad, and guilty and…’
‘Sorry.’
To my relief, Clover started to cry and he was distracted. She was obviously hungry, and her nappy needed changing. He was holding an empty bottle, a tub of formula, and a baby, and now he was trying to bend down and take a nappy from the bag under the buggy. Instantly, all thoughts of weddings and cakes were ejected from my mind as I went into action.
‘Dan, you’ll drop her,’ I said, leaping up and gathering her in my arms just before she landed on the grass. ‘Whatever you’re doing, you make the baby safe first,’ I added, like an overprotective midwife. ‘You can leave her on the blanket while you do all that… She can’t fall off a blanket on the ground.’
Disaster averted, I was laughing now as I held her against my chest, her tiny head in my hands, glad to have her safe as he pottered around, picking up baby wipes and balancing the tub of formula under his chin. Clover was yelling – she was frustrated, hungry, probably very uncomfortable in a wet nappy… and now the formula powder seemed to be escaping from the tub.
‘Look, let me help, or this will take all day, and Clover doesn’t have all day – places to go, people to see,’ I said.
Dan was trying so hard, but it seemed the harder he tried, the more catastrophic he became.
‘Why don’t you take the bottle and the formula into the café, charm whoever’s behind the counter to warm it for you? And I’ll change her nappy,’ I said, placing Clover on my shoulder and taking the nappy-changing kit from the buggy.
He watched me, as he stood by, surrounded by a light dusting of baby formula and a lot of muslin cloths. ‘How do you do that?’ he asked, ‘you make it look so effortless… Is it a woman thing?’
‘No, it isn’t, you sexist pig, it’s practice!’ I smiled, as we trudged off towards the café, and
civilisation.
I nudged open the toilet door and once inside began the process of changing Clover’s nappy. It felt strange – the last time I changed a nappy was Rosie’s, about three years before, and Emma’s before that – I didn’t expect to be doing it again. I chatted to Clover, telling her how gorgeous she was and how lucky she was to live here and how beautiful and clever she’d be when she grew up. Then I realised someone was in one of the cubicles and I felt a bit foolish. Whoever was in there must have thought I was crazy.
With Clover changed, we headed back into the park café and Dan had ordered cold drinks and was warming Clover’s bottle as we settled down to join him. He went up to the counter for milk to go with the tea as I fed Clover, and through an ornate mirror on the wall, I spotted someone leaving the toilets. I was sure it was the woman I’d almost knocked over on the beach when I’d said goodbye to Dan in the coffee shop. I had to smile – Sydney was a big place, but we lived in such a small world. Seeing that woman reminded me how I’d felt that day and how different things were now. I was more composed, less hysterical, and Dan and I were closer, more relaxed with each other. And yet there was something still holding us both back, and I couldn’t help but think it was the idea of Saffron. I found it difficult to think of her; I felt intrigued, but at the same time I felt guilty, particularly on a day like today when I was spending time with Clover… and Dan. I hoped he was right and she didn’t care about him, but then again only she could confirm that and I found it hard to imagine anyone not being in love with Dan.
The rest of the afternoon flew by. We sat in the shade under the jacaranda trees, now violet in the late winter sunshine. I still found it hard to get my head around winter in July. If I stayed here, would I ever get used to living in a topsy-turvy world?
The late afternoon segued into early evening and we barely noticed. As Clover slept, we talked about Dan’s ideas for the café.
‘So, do you think you’ll open another café?’ I asked, and he explained that he and Shane, his business partner, were keen to open one further down the coast.