by Sue Watson
My plan was less ambitious and pretty straightforward: I was going to teach English literature to teenagers. ‘I must be mad,’ I sighed, ‘but if I can convince just one of them that Shakespeare is relevant today then I can die happy. Oh, and that the syntax and diction Scott Fitzgerald uses is perfection; he conjures such terrible beauty – a time of rags and riches, splendour and ugliness. The contradictions, the subtle nuances… Then there’s Jane Austen, a copy of Pride and Prejudice would teach young women more than a bloody YouTuber…’
Dan laughed. ‘Whoa, Faye! You’re as passionate about literature as I am about cheese.’
‘Mmm, I still have a way to go… That stuff you said earlier about thirty organic goats was the cheese equivalent of trainspotting.’
‘You could teach here in Sydney?’ he said, screwing up his face in the sunshine, suddenly serious.
‘Yeah, but I’m a British citizen, I don’t know how that would work – I’d have to look into visas,’ I said, then realised that if we married, my status would be different. I changed the subject; I didn’t want him to think I was dropping hints. ‘Anyway, enough about me, tell me all about fascinating Australian cheese,’ I teased.
‘Such unique, exciting flavours… such culinary loveliness… I mean, the creativity, the imagination! Bruny Island “OEN” is washed in a mix of brine and a local Pinot Noir…’
‘STOP!’ I laughed, covering my ears, but actually quite interested. ‘Wait… Did you say cheese washed in wine?’
‘Yeah, then wrapped in the Pinot Noir vine leaves.’
‘Yum!’ Oh my God, how had I never heard of this?
‘We have it at the café. When you next come over, you can taste it.’
I wanted so much to stay here with Dan in this bubble, pretending everything was fine, but I still felt we both needed time to think. And I couldn’t do that when he was looking at me with his big blue eyes and Clover was being so cute, I was falling for her too.
‘Yeah, I’ll come to the café when I get back… I’m going to do the coast road drive.’
‘Yeah?’ He seemed a little deflated, but I ploughed on.
‘Yeah. I thought I’d book a car and set off for Melbourne tomorrow,’ I said, brightly, not allowing him to creep into the cracks and change my mind. He looked crushed now.
‘It’s not that I don’t want you to go, but don’t go,’ he said. ‘Or, if you do, what about the day after? I could come with you?’
‘You’ve got the café and Clover.’ This, after all, was what it all boiled down to.
‘I know, but you’re more important than the café. And Saff’s back then, so I won’t have to worry about Clover.’
‘I want to make the most of my time – see as much of Australia as I can. What if you can’t get time off?’ I was still feeling strongly about not waiting around for anyone anymore. This was my time to put me first and get on with my life without working to someone else’s schedule.
‘I will – I will get the time off, even if I have to shut the place. You and I need this time together, it’s important. I want to show you that we can still be us… and you and me on the coast road to Melbourne would be perfect.’
Being Dan, he was soon swept up in the culinary delights of this prospective journey and spoke lovingly of olive groves and freshly shucked oysters. I drew the line at his suggestion of emu and Parma ham-wrapped wallaby, which put me in mind of a bushtucker trial.
‘That’s what it is – bush tucker, eaten by the indigenous peoples,’ he said earnestly.
‘I’d rather have lemon cake,’ I smiled.
‘I’ll bring some with us,’ he grinned, just as his phone rang. It was the café. Again. He’d called them earlier to check things were okay, and now someone was calling him with a query about something or other. The café was always on the phone or on his mind, it was relentless, but he seemed glad to be at the park, and putting down his phone he said, ‘I need to sort out the work-life balance, you know? This is how things should be.’ He sighed, looking at me and reaching for my hand over his sleeping baby, who suddenly woke and began to cry. He rolled his eyes and looked stressed again and I thought how much we both needed to get away from all the pressures and spend time together just driving along that coast road to Melbourne. He was right, we couldn’t work things out while we were apart, so why not try to do it together?
Later, we ate fish and chips in the harbour and watched the sun set, and when we’d finished, I leaned my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around me and we talked about our plans to go away for a few days.
‘We’ll go the day after tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I promise, nothing will get in the way, it’s important to me.’ And in the darkening skies, among a handful of stars and a shimmer of water, we kissed, and my heart lost its way, melting on my tongue, fragile as spun sugar.
Back in my hotel room that night, my mind wandered to the jacaranda trees, to Dan’s blue eyes and Clover’s brown ones. I thought of the three of us together, not a family as such, but we could become one – one day perhaps? I’d like to think I’d be there a little for Clover, to cuddle her, change her nappy, feed her. I wondered if I’d figure in her future? I could feel the softness of her baby cheek, like Emma’s, and Rosie’s. Would Clover also be one of my babies some day? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing her ever again. I’d already said goodbye to Emma and Rosie. All these babies, all these goodbyes, made my heart sore. This time, I was opening myself up to double heartache: loving Dan meant loving Clover, the two were intertwined.
I drank a long glass of cold water to take away the memory of Clover’s soft cheek, of Dan’s warm kisses. But when I woke the following morning, I could still remember them, and it was too late – I knew I always would.
25
Guess Who’s Coming to Melbourne?
Two days later, after much texting and calling and booking, Dan and I were due to set off for Melbourne. Having begged, borrowed and temporarily promoted his staff, Dan had managed to get a whole week off. He’d done this in quick speed against all the odds and knowing how much the café meant to him, I felt this was a real act of love. It also showed me how much he still cared and wanted to make us work despite the new circumstances.
Dan was collecting me from the hotel at 9 a.m., and I packed my case and said goodbye. I wasn’t sure where I’d stay on my return, but I wanted to see how things worked out in Melbourne and we could either plan the next bit together, or I’d head home. I didn’t want to think about the second possibility though right now, I was too excited about our road trip – this was what I’d come here for, to be alone with him, to get back to where we were and at the same time start a new page. It had been impossible with all his commitments to even have a decent conversation, and anyone who’s had a new business and a new baby will know if the business isn’t on the phone, the baby’s crying. I just longed for the peace to be ourselves again, uninterrupted.
I waited in the cool of reception for Dan to arrive, unable to sit still, feeling like a child waiting to go to Disney World. I was so looking forward to seeing him, like we were going on a first date, which in effect we were because this was a fresh start. We’d spent the last few days getting to know each other again and catching up on everything that had changed, and now it was time to see if we’d changed. I still loved him, and I knew he still felt the same about me, but this was the test, and if, given everything that had happened between us, we could take these few days to confirm our feelings, then we were on our way.
I was wearing my jeans and a white T-shirt, two gallons of anti-perspirant and a spritz of duty-free Chanel. I felt good, composed, happy, and thrilled to be heading up the coast to Melbourne, just driving together and taking in the breathtaking views. Sydney to Melbourne would take a few days, but we’d plotted a map and were stopping where we wanted to, whenever the mood took us. It was going to be instinctive, easy, no pressure – and Dan had even promised not to call the café like a bloody obsessive.<
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I kept glancing through the huge reception windows to see if I could see his hire car – all I knew was that it was white and convertible and that was enough for me. It would be just as I’d imagined, me and Dan flying down that coast road, the wind in our hair, sun on our faces.
When he hadn’t arrived by 9.30, I wasn’t too worried – he’d had to collect the car and fill it with petrol – so I distracted myself by texting Emma and Sue and Mandy and sending photos. Emma responded with ‘You go, girl!’ which made me smile and Mandy called me. It was 8.30 at night, back in the UK, and her opening line was ‘Hi bitch, I’m having prinks.’
‘Who’s Prinks… What happened to Jason?’ I said.
This caused her to roar with laughter.
‘I’m having Pre-drinks… Prinks, you know? A few large ones before I go out?’ she yelled down the phone. ‘Oh Faye, you’re such a daft cow!’
‘Oh,’ I laughed. It was good to hear her voice. No one else verbally abused me in such an affectionate way – well, thankfully no one other than Mandy actually verbally abused me.
‘How is everyone?’ I asked, feeling a little pang of homesickness.
‘Oh, everyone’s great. Mrs J has finally agreed to have a vajazzle… It’s her fiftieth wedding anniversary and she’s having the Eiffel Tower in gold nuggets. She’s gonna surprise him on the night.’
‘I bet she is,’ I said, imagining the effect that Mrs J’s seventy-year-old, nugget-encrusted ‘lady garden’ would have on Mr J’s recent bypass.
‘Oh yeah, and Camilla’s bought a new vibrator – huge, the biggest one they do. Had it delivered to the shop, needed two men to carry it in. I opened it in front of everyone. One word – CARNAGE!’
‘Oh Mandy, you’re so naughty! Camilla didn’t order it, you did, didn’t you?’
‘How do you know?’
‘I’m bloody psychic – especially where you’re concerned. Poor Camilla. Anyway, how’s Jason?’
‘Oh shit, Faye! Jase hasn’t texted me all day, he’s either found out about the other blokes, or he’s dead.’
‘Oh dear. How’s Katy Perry?’ I said, quickly moving on. Jason’s lack of contact sounded like a complicated epic and I really didn’t have time to hear it in all its explicit glory – I was more concerned with looking out of the window for signs of Dan.
‘Katy Perry’s good. She sleeps a lot and eats a lot and just chills with me every night, we’re best buds. Oh, and Flick gave her a Porn-star Martini last Thursday, she bloody loved it.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure cats should…’
‘It’s okay, Big Jess took her round the block to walk it off after and she didn’t even have a hangover the next day.’
‘Oh, that’s a relief,’ I said, wondering what kind of life Katy Perry was living now. Mind you, life with Rosie involved being force-dressed as Dora the Explorer and made to stagger round attached to a backpack all day. Swings and roundabouts really.
‘I just hope Katy Perry stays positive, Faye. After Lady Gaga, I worry about the furries – one minute they’re fine, the next they’re depressed and suicidal – but Flick’s going to give her counselling, so…’
‘Great,’ I said, trying not to think about what that might involve.
‘Anyway, just wanted to make sure you were okay,’ she said, and I was touched. Under all the bluff and bluster Mandy had a heart of gold and I thought of her like a daughter really. It reminded me that family isn’t always about blood – sometimes we make families with the people we’re with because we love them.
‘You’d have a ball here, Mand – the weather and all the good-looking young Aussies,’ I said.
‘Bitch, I’d have a few balls!’ she roared, laughing. ‘Yeah, wish I was there with you, now downing that amber nectar and showin’ those Bruces how to party.’
I couldn’t even begin to let my mind go there.
‘Talking of Bruce… Is he treating you well? Bet you can’t get enough of his…’
‘Yes, yes,’ I quickly cut in – I didn’t need a pornographic description of something akin to a bush tucker trial involving me and Dan. I felt weird talking about him after the revelations, and I wasn’t about to impart the fact he was a new dad to Mandy. I still hadn’t quite got used to the idea myself.
I glanced at the time: it was now almost 10 a.m. and my mention of Australian sunshine had started Mandy off on last year’s cultural extravaganza in Kavos. ‘Three words, Faye: me. pissed. On the beach. With two blokes… Hang on, that’s more than three words, that’s bloody millions…’ Fortunately at this the signal went (I reckon we’d been intercepted by Interpol, her stories so lurid they’d shut us down) and I couldn’t hear her any more. It was probably just as well, I may have needed to wash my phone when she’d finished her sordid tale.
Still smiling to myself at her antics, I wandered outside, leaving the cool lobby behind me and entering the shimmering heat. It bounced off the road and covered me in sweat, so after ten minutes I headed back inside, now feeling a little wobbly.
I decided to text Dan, but had no response. Was he okay? He was driving a car he’d never driven before, had something happened? I just couldn’t imagine what was making him so late. Dan had really worked hard to get the time off, this trip meant so much to him – so where the hell was he? If he was held up, surely he’d let me know so I wouldn’t worry?
I sent another text, just asking if he was okay, then paced the lobby for another fifteen minutes, wandering backwards and forwards, keeping my eye on the windows at all times in case he pulled up.
By 10.47, he was almost two hours late and I was beginning to feel sick. I’d had no breakfast because we were going to stop on the way – but the heat, an empty stomach and worry were always going to end badly for me. Then, at 10.48, I saw a white car pull up. I went to the window and peered through. It didn’t look like a convertible, but I thought it might be Dan driving, so I went outside. I didn’t want to rush over in case it wasn’t him, but when the car started beeping, I walked across the road with my bags. As I approached, I could see he was getting out of the driver’s side and smiling, which lifted me. I wanted to do a little dance, but managed to stop myself and just waved instead. He waved back while watching the road and beckoning me over when it was clear both sides and I ran across.
‘Dan, I’ve been so worried,’ I said, hugging him as he grabbed my bags and threw them in the boot. I was clinging to his arm, looking up into his face as he kissed me and opened the rear passenger door. I looked at him quizzically through my smiles: ‘What are you doing?’
‘I… Clover’s in the back. Her baby seat has to be there but she sometimes gets a bit fretful if she’s there on her own, so I was hoping you could keep her company. Just until she’s asleep?’
‘Oh, right,’ I said, climbing into the back seat as he ran round the front to get back into the driver’s seat.
‘Where is Saffron?’ I asked, assuming we were dropping Clover off to be with her mum. I peered over the side of her carseat into the baby’s face and my heart melted a little.
‘Saff’s not back yet, she wants to stay on a few more days. I’m a bit pissed off with her, to be honest.’
‘A bit pissed off?’ I snapped, thinking how irresponsible this girl was being. ‘I think that’s very reasonable of you.’ Then I stopped myself; it wasn’t fair of me to criticise this woman, it wasn’t my business – it was between the two of them. ‘So who’s looking after Clover while we’re away?’
He looked at me in the rear-view mirror: ‘We are, babe.’
‘We are?’ I looked back at him in confusion and then it dawned on me: ‘Oh, you mean she’s coming with us?’ I was taken aback – this was meant to be our time, me and Dan alone together for the first time in a long while.
‘I’m sorry,’ he was saying, ‘but the woman who usually looks after her when we’re both working has her three young grandsons to stay this week, and I didn’t want to leave her in a house with three loud boys who fight constantl
y…’
‘No, no, of course not,’ I said, reaching over the baby seat and touching Clover’s head with the tip of my fingers, the very thought of her being exposed to three rough boys filling me with horror.
‘So sorry, babe,’ he was saying, his eyes meeting mine in the rear-view mirror as he indicated and pulled away. ‘I know it’s not what we planned… You’re not too pissed off with me, are you?’
I wasn’t pissed off with him, but I was disappointed and a little resentful of Saffron, who seemed to pick up her baby and drop her the minute something better came along. I’d really looked forward to this time alone with Dan and no distractions and bloody selfish Saffron had ruined things. So much for the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. So much for snatched kisses and his hand on my thigh as we drove along the open road. But then I thought about the innocent little baby on the back seat next to me who had no idea her mother had chosen to stay away longer and not rush back to see her. It made me ashamed of feeling disappointed; here was a baby who needed a mother and for the next seven days it looked like that was me.
‘It’s fine, it’ll be fun with Clover on board,’ I smiled at him in the rear mirror.
‘Not quite the kind of fun we had in mind though, babe?’ I saw the twinkle in his eyes and my heart did a little dance.
‘Let’s stop at the first pretty place for coffee,’ I said, not responding to his comment. I wasn’t sure what the hell the nature of this trip was now. It certainly wasn’t going to be a sexual rekindling, but I was with him, so I’d take that. ‘I’ve been waiting for you for so long I’m starving – make that a pancake stop too!’ I added.
He laughed, no doubt relieved that I’d accepted our little passenger and was still up for the trip.
After about an hour, we stopped at a little coffee shop overlooking the beach and when we climbed out of the car we stood looking out onto the ocean. It was so quiet, save the squawk of sea birds floating high above in the endless blue sky. It was hot, but a slight sea breeze ruffled the air and I breathed in deeply, finally beginning to feel relaxed.