CHASING LIFE

by Steve Jovanoski

  ‘Sorry about that.’ She looked at him shyly.

  ‘Don’t be. It’s a turn-on.’ Dave smiled. He got up to get rid of the condom and wipe himself down, then went back to bed, and they wrapped themselves around each other under the sheets. Erin’s hand made its way down south.

  ‘Want to do it again?’ she asked.

  He didn’t have to answer.

  When the sex was out of their systems, they lay on the bed exhausted and satisfied.

  ‘I’d love a cigarette right now,’ Erin broke the silence. ‘I’m so exhausted I can hardly move.’

  ‘Me too.’ Dave was staring at the ceiling, blissfully content with not a thought in his mind. The air inside was warm and stuffy. The television had been left running on mute, its images projecting shadows on the walls and creating a light show.

  ‘Why did you leave Melbourne?’ Erin asked, rolling over and hugging him around the waist, while he put his arm around her and pulled her closer.

  ‘Holiday.’

  ‘Have you travelled before?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘What about your job?’

  ‘I used to be an accountant, but I quit.’

  ‘Your house?’

  ‘Sold it.’ Dave wondered how long it would take for her to start digging deeper.

  ‘So you have an open itinerary, have never travelled before and have nothing to tie you down?’ Erin summarised.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Are you a murderer?’

  ‘Nope. Too squeamish. I faint at the sight of blood. Very cliché I know but it’s true.’

  ‘That’s funny.’ There was another pause. Dave could tell that she wasn’t done with her questions. ‘So what are you running from, then?’

  ‘Must I be running?’

  ‘You’re an accountant who drops everything, sells his house and goes on an indefinite holiday. That’s not normal, even by my standards. What are your plans for the future? What will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Dave answered. The question made him wonder. He hadn’t thought about the future much. As far as he was concerned, his future was in his arms, and it felt good.

  ‘There’s more to it, I bet.’ She looked at him. ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.’ Erin was a clever person; he couldn’t hold her off for long. What she really meant was: “Come out with it already!”

  ‘Maybe.’ He could tell she was hanging to know more, and he liked playing with her.

  ‘Why aren’t you married?’

  ‘I was,’ he replied. Then after a pause he added, ‘My wife passed away.’ Dave spoke in a detached way, as if he were talking about a scene he’d watched in a movie. He waited for Erin to process the information before he continued.

  ‘It wasn’t long ago, was it?’ Erin raised her head and looked at him.

  ‘It depends on how long three years is,’ Dave replied. He could feel her body tense against his as her eyes widened.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She got sick, a nasty illness.’ He wasn’t about to say more; he couldn’t. He turned his head, looking up at the ceiling.

  ‘I can see you still miss her.’ Erin had given him a different look, one he hadn’t seen before. It was a look of compassion and care, one that gave him her full attention. He’d seen this response before in Amy and his mother. Maybe it was something that only women could convey, reflecting the maternal instinct to protect and nurture. ‘How did you cope?’ Erin asked. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my partner.’

  ‘I lost my head for a while. You just try your best, I guess. It brought my whole life down,’ Dave went on, ‘but I’ve learned to live with it. Had you asked about it a few months ago, I would have curled up in a foetal position and sat rocking back and forth.’

  ‘That’s horrible. I couldn’t imagine …’ Erin choked up and couldn’t finish. She just shook her head, her eyes drilling deep inside him.

  ‘Life goes on. I didn’t really understand how that was possible, but you’d be surprised what you’re capable of enduring.’ Dave thought about all those needles penetrating Julia’s skin and the endless hospital visits.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Erin whispered.

  ‘It’s okay. It’s in the past now.’ He fell silent.

  ‘Why did you come to Paris?’ Erin asked. Her eyes closed, and she snuggled into him. The question surprised him.

  ‘I told you, I came for you.’

  ‘Really?’ her voice was muffled by sleep and Dave suspected his answer hadn’t really registered.

  ‘You’re so huggable,’ he said, but Erin didn’t reply. She was already asleep. The more he learned about her, the more he realised what a strong and confident woman Erin was—and he loved that about her.

  Chapter 28

  A note on the kitchen bench read: ‘I didn’t want to wake you, and I had to run. Work again. See you soon! Erin—xoxo.’

  Dave yawned and stretched his arms. He ran his fingers over the handwriting, feeling its contours as he lay back on the bed. The smell of her shampoo lingered on the sheets; the whole bed had her scent. He moved his head across the pillow, breathed in and pictured her face. He composed a text message on his mobile, wishing her an easy day at work and pressed the send button.

  It was just after midday, and he felt lazy. Must get out of bed, he willed himself. By the time he got out of the apartment, it was almost 3:00 in the afternoon. Finding things to do was getting harder. The exercise still kept him interested, but he was bored of galleries and museums. He’d been to the most popular ones. He decided to get on the Internet. Maybe I should find out what the rest of the world is up to, he thought.

  He walked into a networked café on the other side of the Seine, ordered a black coffee and logged on to his bank account. He was alarmed when he saw that his balance was just under six grand. Not again, he thought, clicking on the transaction history. But there were no fraudulent withdrawals—only payments for the apartment, cash withdrawals, museum tickets, clothes, restaurant meals, phone bills and so on. It was all legit and it had all added up.

  The financial reality of living in Paris, paying rent and spending money on alcohol without an income stream was sobering. He couldn’t continue on his present course for too much longer. He had to start thinking about getting a job, but where? Should he look for something permanent, or just temporary? He couldn’t work full-time anyway in France, unless he were sponsored. He also wasn’t sure what was going to happen with Erin. He’d just started seeing her, and she was planning on moving back to the U.S.

  He bit his lip and felt a knot in his gut. It was a familiar feeling, one he used to get back in Melbourne when something screwed up at work and made him worry till he got sick. A never-ending adventure around the world was a great idea, but he didn’t have an endless flow of cash. The idea of going back to the nine-to-five grind made him anxious. He’d have to see how things worked out with Erin before he could start planning for the future. Everything depended on her. Dave sent Mike a quick email with details of his encounter with Maria and took off. He could just see his mate’s eyes light up and calling him ‘a machine’.

  Rue de Rivoli was a huge street that ran through Paris and was home to a large number of clothing stores. Dave brushed his hair aside, and it fell back over his eyes. That annoyed him and reminded him he needed a haircut. He walked into the first hair salon he found, a very ordinary looking one. An Asian lady cut his hair, taking her time. He was served coffee, had his hair washed and scalp massaged before the actual haircut. A great service, he thought, until he was rewarded with an eighty-euro invoice. Now that he was taking notice of his spending, the smile he carried throughout the process was wiped off like he’d been slapped with a wet fish.

  ‘Dumb-arse,’ he mumbled. He’d already seen what ATMs displayed when there was no cash in a bank account. That feeling scared the shit out of him. He walked out on the street with a great haircut and stopped to stare at his wallet. All right, he calculated, six grand r
emained in the bank. He worried too much, that was plenty of money for starting off a business. He’d just smarten up about his spending.

  Dave’s mobile beeped, and a message came through: ‘Hope you’re having a fab day, babe!’

  His face lit up. He responded, asking when he’d be seeing Erin again. He was eager to resume where they’d left off. Another message beeped, quicker this time: ‘Not until next weekend. Too much work, sorry babe. Will keep in touch, Erin.’

  Bloody hell. What’s with this girl? He felt like a dog on a leash, trying to reach for a bone dangling above his nose. What the hell would he do for a week? He looked around the street, disappointed. A poster on a billboard across the street advertised the EuroRail. He went inside a Metro and inquired about the fast train. The man behind the counter gave him a pamphlet with itineraries and destinations and told him which station to go to—Gare du Nord. Where should I go? he wondered. He looked at the London schedule on the pamphlet—he could do it in a day or stay overnight if he liked it enough. He went back to the apartment with a whole heap of tourist pamphlets and looked them over, trying to decide what else he could do. He was in Europe, after all.

  The next day Dave awoke at five in the morning and made his way to the Gare du Nord. He bought himself a ticket at the counter. The round-trip fare cost him only a hundred euros. Okay, it was more money spent—but he’d get to see London on the cheap. The speed the train travelled at was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and the greenery of the French countryside was a pleasant change from the urban jungle. His eyes welcomed the vast expanses.

  Dave spent the whole day in London and came back to Paris in the evening. He’d missed Paris. The dress sense, the mannerisms, it was all different. Jean Pirredu was right. Even though he could order a meal and get directions in his own language, he might as well have been in Melbourne. And he didn’t want that. He found London a bit hectic and overcrowded. Perhaps some football final had something to do with it. Whatever it was it hadn’t interested him enough to stick around for an overnight stay. London was beautiful in its own way, he admitted, but his mind was elsewhere. He wanted to go back to where he felt comfortable. The trip made him realise that he could actually live in Paris.

  Getting through the succeeding days was tougher. He needed to see Erin, needed to be with her. His mind was drifting back to Julia. Dave was learning that he wasn’t over her or his past. Getting together with Erin only on weekends wasn’t enough. He wanted more, something stable and secure. A talk was in order, but he wondered whether he was rushing things. How could he be? When two people felt the same about each other, there was no such thing as rushing things. He knew that she would agree.

  Text messages went back and forth for days, initiated mostly by Dave. Toward the end of the week, they were able to arrange a Saturday dinner at a traditional French-country restaurant. The snails were a must for Dave as well as locally produced red wine. Afterward, he had arranged a boat ride on the Seine with a view of the Eiffel Tower, and then they went back to his place. The night was warm—it seemed that the unseasonably cold spring weather was finally at an end, and the need for winter clothing was over.

  They continued drinking wine at his apartment, and eventually they rolled out the bed. They made love till the morning hours. But this time Dave was preparing to have a talk. When the time was appropriate, he wanted to discuss where all of this was going, like adults. He wanted more from their relationship, and he was sure they could make it happen. They were so alike, he was amazed sometimes. She could stay in Paris with him—she already had a job, and he could find one too. If not Paris, then London, New York, whatever—their options were endless. They could go back to Hong Kong or end up in Timbuktu if they wanted to.

  As morning light glimmered through the window, Dave rubbed his eyes and saw Erin already dressing. There was a sense of urgency about the way she was moving, as if she was late for something.

  ‘Hey,’ Dave said, ‘you’re not working on a Sunday again, are you?’ When he reached out to touch her as she buttoned her blouse, Erin moved deliberately out of reach. She flicked her hair back and tied it in a bun.

  ‘No,’ she answered. ‘I have to pack.’

  ‘Pack for what?’

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Erin replied, avoiding eye contact.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ He straightened up and started dressing.

  ‘America. I’m not coming back, Dave. I submitted my dissertation yesterday, and I’ve finished up at the hospital. I’m going back home, to California.’ Erin looked him in the eyes and paused for a moment. Then she continued with her footwear, fiddling with the straps. Dave couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Dave shook his head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this? Just stop for a moment.’ He placed a hand on her elbow, forcing her to look at him.

  ‘I’m sorry, but my head’s been all over the place lately, and I just forgot to tell you,’ she replied, releasing herself from his grip. It was a pathetic and cowardly excuse—he could tell she was lying by the way she was evading his eyes. Erin tried on a smile and rubbed him on the shoulder in an effort to console him. He got up and searched for the right words, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

  ‘You forgot.’ he repeated. ‘I followed you here from Hong Kong, we’ve been sleeping together—and you “forgot”!’ Dave was seething with anger. His voice grew louder. ‘What is it about me that made you forget, Erin?’ he yelled. He breathed out, desperately trying to calm himself, and lifted his hands, palms open, showing her he didn’t mean the outburst. He’d lost control, but he knew he should do this calmly.

  ‘You’re a great guy, Dave.’ She paused, and he suddenly he knew something was coming, something worse than what he already heard. After a long pause, Erin finally whispered, ‘I have a fiancé, back home in the States.’

  The walls seemed to have closed in. Dave struggled to breathe—it was as though a freight train had mowed him down head-on. His lips quivered, and his brain seemed to cease functioning for a moment, hung up on the words and trying to process their meaning. All he could hear was the rhythmic beat of his heart. His pulse slammed in his brain like a hammer. Erin’s lips moved, but he wasn’t sure if she spoke.

  ‘Dave. Did you hear what I said?’

  ‘I did.’ His words came out laboured.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’ll leave now. I think it’s better that I make it quick.’ She picked up her pace, gathering her things scattered around the room.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,’ Dave exploded again. ‘You have no decency. What kind of person are you?’ The shock had worn off, and he was enraged again.

  Erin rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sorry it went this far,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have let it happen. It was wrong! I admit it. I’ve been so confused. We’ve been fighting lately, my fiancé and I, and this long-distance relationship was hard on us. You came along when I needed someone, and I took advantage of you. I am so sorry.’ Erin was nearly in tears, but her distraught confession didn’t make Dave feel any better.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I came all the way to Paris for you, not the sex. I came because of you. You even told me to come! I’m not a pair of shoes Erin!’ he demanded. ‘You can’t treat me like I’m a disposable accessory. You should have been honest with me.’

  ‘You’re overdramatising now,’ Erin said, scorn growing in her face. ‘I never expected you to fly across the world for me. You did that. It was your choice. We hardly know each other Dave. We just met. We were fooling around, that’s it. I do like you, I really do. But I don’t have the same feeling for you as you do for me, and that’s why I’m putting an end to it—before it gets messy,’ she was gesturing wildly with her hands, trying to get her point across. The former appeal she had for Dave had vanished in an instant. The ideal goddess was gone, replaced by another person—one that was not likable at all.

  ‘“Overdramatising”? Fuck you! I’m gutted here,
and that’s all you can say? It’s already a mess, Erin.’ He started yelling again. ‘Too late!’

  ‘I didn’t promise you anything, all right?’ Erin yelled back. ‘You don’t even know what you want, Dave. You want me? No, you need someone to distract you from your life. I bet in your mind you’ve created this perfect image of us without looking at the facts or consulting me. It is what it is, and it’s not what you imagine it to be. It’s called reality. And the reality is that it’s over!’

  ‘I fell in love with you. How can you be saying this to me?’

  ‘Oh God!’ Erin cried. ‘You hardly know me. How can you say that? You wanted life experience, and now you’re getting it. This is living. You fall in love, and you feel pain. I’m sorry about what happened in your past, but some people go through their entire lives not knowing what love is. You had something special, and you can have that again because you know it’s possible. You’ve been there. Consider yourself lucky.’

  ‘Lucky? Are you serious?’ Dave couldn’t believe that this was the woman he had fallen for. She was heartless; she had faked her feelings.

  ‘I’ll give you the best advice you’ll ever hear from anyone,’ she said. ‘Don’t get attached to anything or anyone and don’t put people on a pedestal. You can call me a bitch or take it as a favour. How was I supposed to know what you really felt?’

  ‘You burn me, and call it a favour? Keep your favours to yourself. I had so much hope. I thought that I had found something worth clinging to.’

  ‘I’m not a coat-hanger for your life,’ Erin retorted. ‘Learn to live with yourself, and you won’t need to cling to anyone. I can’t talk to you in this state,’ she said, turning to the door, ‘but I hope one day you realise that you’re responsible for what happens to you.’ Erin was walking out, and she was trying to make him understand her actions. He knew she was trying to make him be more reasonable, but he wouldn’t have it.