‘Yes we are. I didn’t want to say at first, I worried you might think I was a stalker or something.’
‘Why would that make you a stalker? Unless you moved there after I told you I live in Oatley?’
He smiled. ‘No, I’ve lived there for some time, I promise.’
She shrugged. ‘Then it’s just another small-world story.’
‘It certainly is.’
The waiter arrived at their table and went to pass Liv a menu but she shook her head. ‘Just coffee, thanks. A latte.’
‘Sure you don’t want something to eat?’ David asked.
‘No, coffee’s fine.’
‘For me too,’ he said to the waiter. ‘Long black, double shot, thanks.’
The waiter left them, and Liv looked at David. ‘You take your caffeine strong and to the point?’
‘Like my women.’ Then he winced. ‘That was a reflex. Please pretend you didn’t hear it.’
Liv certainly wished she hadn’t, especially the reflex part – did he use that line on all the women he met for coffee?
David was watching her. ‘Seriously, it was a joke, Liv, a very bad one.’ He took a breath. ‘I’m a shift worker, strong coffee is how I get through the nights.’
She supposed she could give him a pass. ‘So, what do you do?’
‘I work in a hospital.’
That was vague. Was he a doctor, like his daughter? Made sense. But why put it like that? Was he too embarrassed to say he was a cleaner or an orderly or something? Not that there was anything wrong with either of those occupations, but for some reason David didn’t look like a cleaner. As if she had any idea what a hospital cleaner looked like in civvies out in the light of day . . .
‘So what exactly do you do in this hospital?’ Liv asked.
‘I’m a team leader,’ was all he offered.
He really was being evasive. Liv decided she had to make it all right, show him she wasn’t the kind of woman to judge a man on his occupation. At least, she hoped she wasn’t the kind of woman to judge a man on his occupation.
‘What kind of team do you lead?’ she asked.
He clasped his hands on the table in front of him. ‘A team of nurses.’
She wasn’t expecting that. ‘How do you get to lead a team of nurses?’
He breathed out. ‘By being the most senior nurse on any given shift.’
Liv knew she must look surprised, but she couldn’t help it. ‘You’re a nurse?’
‘Guilty as charged.’
‘Okay, so I’m just going to say it . . .’
‘Go right ahead,’ he said in a resigned tone.
‘You know what’s coming?’
‘You’ve never met a male nurse before.’
‘You know, I don’t think I have,’ said Liv. ‘Not that I have a lot to do with hospitals, touch wood,’ she added. ‘My parents are still in good health, so the last time I was around hospitals was when the boys were little, and that’s more than fourteen years ago.’
‘There’s a lot more of us around these days,’ he assured her.
The waiter returned with their coffees and put them on the table. ‘Can I get you anything else?’ he asked.
David glanced at her and Liv shook her head. ‘We’re right for now, thanks,’ he said.
‘So, that’s an interesting twist,’ said Liv. ‘Dad’s a nurse, and daughter is inspired to become a doctor?’
‘She was the one who inspired me, actually.’
‘Oh really? How is that?’
‘Well, her mother was very sick, for a long time, when Scarlett was a little girl,’ he explained. ‘She decided then that she was going to be a doctor, and she never wavered from it. Never so much as took a passing interest in anything else. She can be very single-minded.’
‘Clearly,’ said Liv. ‘I can see how it would have made a big impression on a child. The doctors must have seemed like gods, being able to make her mother better.’
David’s expression became serious. ‘Unfortunately, they didn’t make her better. She died when Scarlett was eight.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Liv was trying to recall what he’d said about his relationship with his daughter’s mother. She certainly would have remembered if he’d said she’d died. No, he’d said they didn’t last, and later, that Scarlett had come to live with him. Liv could understand why he didn’t want to talk about her death to a total stranger.
‘I told you that we didn’t last,’ David said, as though he’d read her mind. ‘Because we didn’t. We broke up when Scarlett was a baby.’ He leant forward a little on the table. ‘We were very young – Amanda found out she was pregnant just after we finished the HSC.’
‘That is young.’
‘I had got into medicine, but I didn’t think I’d be able to handle the course with a baby coming, so I deferred.’
‘What did you do instead?’
‘Oh, I became a complete arsehole,’ he said with a sheepish grin. ‘Excuse my language, but that’s the only way of putting it. I bummed around taking part-time jobs and losing them again, drinking, partying – you know, trying to squeeze as much of my youth into the time I had left before the baby arrived. But I got used to the lifestyle, and Amanda gave up on me, quite rightly. My mother did more to support her than I ever did. When it was my night to have Scarlett, I’d just leave her with Mum and go out as usual. I told you – complete arsehole. I really put my heart and soul into it.’
Liv smiled. ‘You were very young, though.’
‘So was Amanda, but that didn’t stop her from taking the responsibility seriously. She was brilliant with Scarlett. Then after a couple of years she enrolled at TAFE to do childcare; she had originally planned to be a schoolteacher, and she was intending to get to that. She never made it. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer when Scarlett was four. It was brutal, but she fought it so hard. She wanted to see Scarlett start school, and then it was the end-of-year dance concert, and then it was her first game of soccer, sports carnivals, more concerts. Every one of Scarlett’s milestones was another incentive for her to stay alive long enough to see it. She was beginning to believe she’d be there when Scarlett started high school, but the cancer had other ideas. It spread everywhere. She had so many operations, there was nothing left they could take out. She was only twenty-seven.’
Every response Liv could think of felt inadequate – that it was awful, horrible, sad, tragic . . . In the end she just said, ‘I don’t know what to say . . .’
‘What can you say?’ He shrugged. ‘Scarlett lost the only decent parent she had, so I had to step up to the plate. I had to get my act together so I could give her a future, I owed Amanda that. I couldn’t go back to medicine – the hours would’ve been impossible, even if I’d managed to get back in, and there was certainly no guarantee of that. It was my mum who suggested nursing. I laughed it off at first, but gradually it became the obvious choice – I’d be trained in half the time it would take to become a doctor, and I could be out earning an income.’
‘Still, it couldn’t have been easy with a young child,’ said Liv. ‘How did you manage the shift work?’
‘My mother came to the rescue again.’ He smiled. ‘Scarlett slept at her place whenever I was on night shift. I have to admit, being male, and a single father, I did benefit from a little reverse discrimination. My supervisors used to take pity on me, give me more day shifts and weekends off so I could be with Scarlett. It got a lot easier once she was in her mid-teens and was more independent.’
‘I’m noticing that with my boys now,’ said Liv.
‘Tell me about them,’ said David. ‘I’ve talked way too much about myself.’
‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘You’ve got a pretty impressive story, you should write a book.’
He laughed. ‘Spoken like someone who works in publishing. Really, enough about me. So your boys are becoming more independent?’
‘Starting to, at least enough so that I can get out on the road again. My mother hel
ps out too, and they do have a father.’
‘How long have you been on your own?’
‘Almost a decade,’ she said.
‘What went wrong? If you don’t mind me asking.’
She didn’t. He was as easy to talk to as when they were on the plane. ‘My ex couldn’t handle real life, and the twins were the straw that broke his back, poor camel. He was telling me only the other day that I never realised how hard it was for him when the boys came along.’
That seemed to amuse David. ‘So he’s still in your life?’
‘In the boys’ lives, and by extension mine. What can you do?’ Liv said. ‘Boys need their father.’
The waiter returned to take their empty cups. ‘Would you like another?’ he asked.
‘Not for me,’ David said.
Liv felt an unexpectedly keen sense of disappointment. She’d only intended to stay for one coffee too, but she was enjoying herself. David was not only harmless, he was also interesting and engaging, and she felt at ease in his company. This wasn’t what she’d expected at all; she didn’t know if that was because she’d had no expectations, or whether, as she suspected, David was actually a nice guy.
And right now, he and the waiter were patiently waiting for a response. ‘Oh, nothing for me either,’ said Liv.
‘Listen, I’m on night shift tonight,’ David explained. ‘I’ll be mainlining caffeine later, so I can’t have any more now. But please, you go ahead.’
‘Oh, it’s okay.’
‘Really, I’ve got nowhere I have to be,’ he said. ‘Unless you do?’
‘No, not right away.’
‘Then stay, have another coffee.’
‘All right. A latte again,’ she said to the waiter.
‘And could we have some water for the table?’ David added. ‘Thanks.’
So they stayed and they talked, and then they talked some more. David asked endless questions about the boys, apparently still fascinated that they were twins. He told her that he’d finished Cameron’s book, and loved it, and they talked about other books they’d read, and movies they liked. He even admitted that he’d rented out a Liv Ullmann film when he happened across one at the video store the other night. ‘No offence, but it was weird.’
‘No offence taken,’ said Liv, who had never seen a Liv Ullmann film in her life. ‘I told you, my mother just liked the name.’
‘Your bag’s tweeting,’ David said.
‘Huh?’ Then she heard it too. It was her text message alert. ‘Sorry,’ she said, digging for her phone in her bag. ‘I know it’s rude, but I have to check, because of the boys.’
‘Completely understand,’ he assured her.
It was Lachie, of course, asking what was for dinner that night. Liv’s heart lurched as she checked the time on the screen. It wasn’t anywhere near dinnertime, but she realised they had been here for more than two hours. She hoped Rick hadn’t dropped the boys off early.
‘I have to reply to this.’ She gave David an apologetic look, but he waved his hand for her to go ahead.
Liv quickly texted Lachie, asking where he was. He replied almost as quickly: Still with Dad. Just thinkn bout dinner. As usual.
‘Is everything okay?’ David asked as she slipped her phone back into her bag.
‘Everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘But I’m going to have to get a move on. It’s later than I thought.’ She took out her wallet.
‘I’ll get this,’ he said.
‘No way,’ said Liv. ‘I invited you, and I had two cups to your one.’
‘It’s only coffee,’ he said.
‘Exactly, so what’s the big deal?’ She left a couple of notes to cover it, tucking them under the sugar bowl. David stood up as she got to her feet. ‘Are you parked in the carpark?’ she asked.
‘No, I walked across the bridge.’
Liv was suddenly wishing she had too. ‘I had a really nice time,’ she said.
‘Me too,’ he smiled.
She liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, she liked that he smiled, often. She liked him. And she was staring at him. Time to go.
‘Okay then, well, bye.’ She turned to leave.
‘Is that it?’ David said.
Liv glanced over her shoulder. ‘You’ve got my number. I called you last time. Tag, you’re it.’
She walked back to her car feeling pretty pleased with herself, especially that exit. She felt like the sassy one in a TV series about independent career women and their zany dating adventures.
As she got into the car, her phone rang. She took it out and checked the screen. It was David. Her heart did an involuntary little jump. That better not become a habit. She held the phone to her ear. ‘Did I leave something behind?’ she asked.
‘No. You said it was my turn to call.’
‘Wow, you don’t waste any time.’
‘I can’t at my age,’ he said. ‘Would you like to go out again, Liv?’
She hesitated, but only for a second. ‘I guess . . .’
‘How about next weekend?’
Keen. ‘Sorry, I have the kids. Every second weekend.’
‘And they’re with you all week?’
‘Yep.’
‘Okay . . . how about lunch on a weekday?’
‘You know I work in the city?’
‘That’s okay. I work shifts, remember, I get some weekdays free.’
That was a bonus.
‘Let me check my roster,’ he said, ‘and I’ll get back to you.’
‘All right.’
‘Good. Talk to you soon, Liv.’
‘Bye, David.’
Monday
‘I shouldn’t have been so easy.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Madeleine. ‘You had coffee. Or are you worried that two cups sends a message that you’re some kind of loose woman?’
They were lining up at the café on the ground floor, and Liv had already spilled about her still surprising coffee-only date with David. It really was utterly surprising; she had never expected that it would be so easy, and comfortable, and basically just . . . nice.
So, of course, all night she’d had second thoughts, eventually deciding it was a bad idea to take it any further, and that she should nip it in the bud the first chance she got.
‘What I’m saying is that I shouldn’t have agreed to another date so readily,’ she explained to Madeleine. ‘I should have said that I need to check my schedule.’
‘Why?’
‘To give me time to think about it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because thinking about it is . . . a good thing.’
‘Why?’
Liv rolled her eyes. ‘You sound like Dylan when he was little – why, why, why?’
‘Well, if you were giving him lame answers like that, then no wonder.’
‘My answers are not lame,’ Liv said indignantly. ‘What’s wrong with taking time to think? It might give you the chance to realise that maybe you don’t want this to go any further. Whereas if you answer on the spot, you’re under pressure to say yes. And then what do you do?’
‘You go out again?’ Madeleine suggested. ‘With a nice guy, with whom you had a nice time? Just an idea.’
‘You’re being a smart-arse today.’
Madeleine just shrugged.
‘Anyway, he hasn’t got back to me, so it’s all academic,’ Liv said. ‘This is why I’ve avoided the whole dating thing. Men are weird. He could barely let me leave his sight yesterday before calling me, and then he doesn’t get back to me? What’s that about?’
‘Didn’t you say he was on night shift last night?’
‘Oh yeah.’ Liv had forgotten about that.
Madeleine smiled at her. ‘Look at you, getting all antsy, waiting for the call.’
‘I am not,’ Liv said. ‘I’m getting antsy that there’s a call to wait for in the first place.’
‘You know you’re not making any sense, right?’ said Madeleine.
�
��Look, I only intended to meet him once, for coffee, to get the monkey off my back, so to speak. And now I’m waiting for a call that I’m not even sure I want.’
‘Well, looks like he’s not going to call, so you’ll be off the hook. Won’t that be a relief?’
Liv pulled a face. ‘Such a smart-arse today.’
‘Sorry,’ she grumbled. ‘I had a crappy weekend.’
‘Why, what happened?’
Their orders were called and they picked up their coffees at the end of the counter.
‘Do you want to drink these down here?’ said Madeleine. ‘Have you got time?’
‘Sure, my first meeting’s not for an hour.’
Madeleine led the way to one of the bench tables over against the window; they sat down with their backs to the entrance so they probably wouldn’t be noticed if anyone from the office came in.
‘What’s up?’ said Liv.
Madeleine was staring down at her coffee. ‘I’m not sure where to start . . . I’ll try to give you a brief synopsis.’
‘You sound like you’re pitching a book.’
She didn’t respond to that. ‘Aiden got back on Friday afternoon, and, well, he and I had a few drinks. He ended up telling me all this stuff about Henry’s family. You know how he never talks about them?’
‘Uh-huh.’ So Liv had to wonder why Aiden felt so free. And where was Henry while they were having their cosy little D&M?
‘So, here’s a revelation,’ Madeleine went on. ‘Turns out Henry’s father was an alcoholic, a full-on, nasty alcoholic.’
‘Oh.’
‘Explains an awful lot about Henry.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, why he’s so sensitive about me drinking, for one thing.’
Liv didn’t know what to say to that, and frankly it made her uncomfortable. While she’d never gone so far as to think of her as an alcoholic, she did know that Madeleine had abused alcohol for a while there. That had all changed when Henry came into her life, so Liv had decided Madeleine’s behaviour must have been an aberration, not an addiction. However, Liv had once looked after the author of a book on co-dependency and had been fascinated to learn that people were often drawn to the same dysfunctional environment they’d grown up in, so children of alcoholics were drawn to alcoholics, and so on. If Henry’s father was an alcoholic, and Henry had been drawn to Madeleine . . . But she didn’t know enough about it, and she certainly didn’t have any right to judge.
The Best Man Page 22