The next day, Dan woke up with a vodka fog in his head. Propping himself up on one elbow, he glanced around the white room, confused for a minute about exactly where he was. He saw the surfers on the wall. Oh yeah, the show home. Dan and Julia’s spare room.
When the unmistakeable smell of sizzling bacon hit him, he sat up gingerly, waiting for the hangover to pound his brain. When it surfaced as a pulse instead of a hammer, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled on his jeans and discovered the bathroom behind a white door. Perfectly folded white towels hung on the rail and there was a brand-new bar of soap on the hand basin. White. He rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him.
A few minutes later, Dan looked down from the top of the stairs and discovered a perfect domestic scene. Julia was buttering toast. Ry was frying the bacon and cracking eggs into a separate frypan, both of them sipping from designer coffee cups on the bench top. Ry was in his running gear and Julia was wearing some kind of dress that skimmed her knees and showed lots of skin. They fitted into this house perfectly. Seeing them working together to make breakfast, like a well-oiled machine, made him think of Elizabeth again. They hadn’t had a chance to have breakfast after their one night together. She’d stormed off, angry. He’d stayed in bed and eventually gone back to sleep.
He wondered what it would be like to sit at a table with Elizabeth and eat toast together, listen to her bitching about his instant coffee. She’d probably want that healthy multigrain bread and he’d only have white. He shook those thoughts away and padded down the carpeted stairs, careful to hold on to the handrail. Thinking about that stuff, hell, even wanting it, wouldn’t turn him into the guy who was ready for that.
‘Good morning,’ he croaked as he crossed the kitchen to the breakfast bar, pulled out a stool and plonked himself on it. He managed a smile at his hosts.
‘Breakfast?’ Julia was too goddamn perky for his liking, a huge smile on her face. What could she possibly be so happy about this early in the morning?
‘Thanks.’ Dan stared down at the plate she’d placed in front of him. It was loaded with two eggs, sunny side up, bacon crisped to perfection, half a grilled tomato and finely chopped mushrooms. On the side, toasted sourdough bread. It smelled unbelievable and he grabbed the cutlery.
‘We thought you might need a fry-up,’ Ry added, staring at him intently. ‘You know, to soak up all the booze.’
Julia and Ry stood across the bench, both with crossed arms, studying him. Dan let them watch as he wolfed down the meal.
‘Hungry?’ Ry asked with a smirk in his voice.
In between mouthfuls, Dan replied, ‘Didn’t eat last night. Too busy drinking.’
‘Want a coffee to wash that down?’ Julia asked, and when he began chewing and nodding a yes, she grabbed a cup and fired up Ry’s fancy-schmancy coffee machine. It began hissing and steaming. Damn, that smelled good too.
‘Ah, too busy drinking,’ Ry said. ‘That explains why you were making absolutely no sense last night when you knocked on the door. Tell me again why you needed to crash here?’
Dan put down the cutlery, stretched up to the ceiling and yawned. ‘When I pushed Anna into my bed just after midnight I realised I had nowhere to sleep.’
Julia looked at him, puzzled. ‘You mean you didn’t—’
Ry cut her off with a glare that said I love you honey but shut the hell up right now. ‘How’s that coffee coming, JJ?’
‘Here you go.’
‘Thanks, Julia. Smells really good. Like real coffee. Better than my instant.’ Then he dropped his cutlery with a clutter. ‘Damn it. I’d better go tell Anna where I am.’ He plodded to the door. The fry-up had helped some but there was an unmistakeable post-booze throbbing in his skull. He’d better walk more slowly.
‘Bring her back for breakfast, Dan,’ Julia called after him. ‘We’ve got plenty.’
‘And I’ve seen what you’ve got in your fridge,’ Ry added. ‘You don’t want to poison the woman.’
Dan turned around, flashed them the best half a smile he could manage and raised his middle finger to Ry. ‘Put another coffee on.’
The door closed quietly. Julia opened the stainless steel fridge, pulled out another egg carton and a new packet of bacon, and set them beside the stove. Then she leaned back against the counter, suspicion in her eyes. Ry knew that look. It was dangerous. It meant she was thinking.
‘Why do you think Anna slept in Dan’s bed and he slept here in our spare room?’
‘You’re not really asking me, are you,’ Ry said with a grin. ‘You already know and I’m just here to look handsome and cook the bacon.’
‘You know what I’m thinking, Ry. It means they didn’t sleep together.’
He thought on it. ‘Or it means they did sleep together, had a fight and then she kicked him out.’
‘How can she kick him out of his own bed?’
‘When she’s too pissed to drive back to Adelaide in the middle of the night.’
Julia bit her lip. ‘Damn it, you’re right. Do you really think it’s back on between those two?’
‘Chill, JJ. Anna’s married. Man, that was a huge wedding. She looked like a giant meringue. Six bridesmaids. Her crazy Italian family. Eight courses for dinner. Bomboniere. Dried ice on the dance floor, the whole lot.’
Julia rolled her eyes. ‘Call me cynical, but since when does marriage get in the way of having sex with someone else?’
‘Hey. You’ve got that wrong. Anna’s not like that and I sure as hell know Dan. They broke up, like, ten years ago, maybe twelve. They’re friends now. It’s ancient history, the two of them.’
At the sound of a knock at the door, they exchanged quick glances. Whoever it was, their conversation had just come to an abrupt end.
‘Come in,’ Ry called out.
They looked over to find Lizzie standing in their living room. ‘Good morning, you two. Can I get a café latte?’
CHAPTER
15
Lizzie stopped in her tracks, suspicious. A nervous ping flittered in the air between Ry and Julia, like a silver ball trapped in a pinball machine. Her first thought was that she’d stepped into the middle of something private. A fight? Not these two. Not yet anyway. They were still very much in the loved-up stage. Ry stood with his arm around Julia’s shoulder, twisting a curl of her hair around his fingers. Julia was leaning back on him, one hand reaching back to rest on his thigh.
Lizzie lifted her chin in a questioning move. ‘Everything all right, you two?’
‘Café latte coming right up.’ Ry reached for another cup so he could work his magic on the coffee machine.
Julia walked over to Lizzie, threw her arms around her for a hug and held on, squeezing tight. Softly she whispered in Lizzie’s ear, so it was just between them, ‘You okay?’
Lizzie gave her a little nod, managed a sad smile and sat down at the bench. After their conversation the day before, she’d gone home, feeling very low, needing her own solace, and ended up watching Dirty Dancing for the thirtieth time. The familiarity of it helped her escape the memories of what she’d told Julia the day before. Dredging up the past was hard. That’s why she didn’t like to do it.
‘Have you eaten? We’re doing a fry-up,’ Julia said.
Lizzie face was a question. ‘A fry-up can only mean one thing. Someone’s recovering from a big night. What did you two get up to?’
There it was, a nervous look in Julia’s eyes. ‘We…um…we had a quiet night. Sat on the balcony drinking red wine and talking until late, didn’t we, Ry?’
‘I can’t get her to shut up about the wedding, if you must know, Lizzie.’ He winked at her. ‘“When are you going to make an honest woman out of me?”, blah blah blah.’
Ry presented Lizzie with her café latte. The milky concoction looked enticing, and he’d tied a white serviette around the glass with a knot so she wouldn’t burn her fingers.
‘Oh, look at that,’ Lizzie sighed. ‘You’ve even made the pretty swirls i
n the frothed milk. Maybe we’ll have to get you on barista duty when we start doing breakfasts out in the car park.’ Lizzie lifted the cup to her mouth, purposefully tilted it so the foam hit her top lip. ‘Mmm…just what I needed.’
Ry and Julia were still chuckling along with Lizzie and her milk moustache when the front door opened. Then they both stopped mid-laugh and Lizzie watched two sets of eyes dart to the front door.
‘We’re back,’ someone called. And she didn’t need to turn her head to know exactly who that someone was. Lizzie froze at the unmistakeable sound of Dan’s voice from across the room.
We?
She hurriedly licked the milk froth from her lips, swiped her face with the back of her hand, then turned, scared to look but unable to stop herself.
The we was, of course, Dan and Anna. And with a quick glance, Lizzie recognised the skinny jeans and the top. Anna was wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing the day before. Even down to the stilettos. Dan was beside her, holding her elbow, guiding her with gentle steps to the kitchen. Big, black designer sunglasses hid most of Anna’s face and, unless Lizzie was mistaken, she was softly groaning.
‘She needs a coffee. Straight into the vein.’ Dan positioned Anna on a stool next to Lizzie and then stood behind her, looking for all the world like he was positioning himself to catch her in case she fell.
He looked slightly the worse for wear too, Lizzie noticed, his face pale and more than a hint of growth on his jaw, but damn him to hell, did he have to look so gorgeous in his suffering? His eyes still shone in his pale face, his T-shirt, black and rumpled, stretched across the chest she’d had her hands and lips all over a just a few days ago. His black hair was unkempt and pushed back messily off his forehead. It seemed like he’d had a big night too.
Dan managed a quick glance in Lizzie’s direction. ‘Hi.’
One word. That was all she got. There was no smile on his face before he averted his eyes and looked at anything else in the room but her.
Lizzie’s stomach dropped through the floor. She swallowed a lump in her throat, tried to take a big deep breath without it showing. She wanted desperately to get out of there, to get away from them all, with all their happiness and couple stuff and love and, clearly, sex. If it wasn’t enough that Ry and Julia were a sickeningly happy couple, she now had to face Dan and Anna. Maybe the four of them had had a party last night without her. Perhaps they’d had a delightful couples-only thing and then proceeded to do couples stuff. It had been so damn long since she’d been part of a couple that Lizzie realised she didn’t have a clue what that was like anymore. Were there intense discussions about politics? Climate change? Long-winded dissertations about rising property prices on the south coast followed by red wine and cheeses and a glass of polite port? Lizzie felt the beginnings of a headache thump in her temple and a hollow feeling open up in her chest.
Anna groaned, loudly and dramatically. ‘Ry, it’s good to see you again. If I could actually open my eyes to see you.’ She then held out a hand across the marble kitchen bench. ‘You must be Julia. Nice to meet you.’
Julia shook her hand. ‘Hi Anna. Nice to meet you, too. Do you need a shower? Some Panadol?’
‘Oh…just let me sit here for a minute.’ Anna moved her head slightly in Lizzie’s direction. ‘Hey Lizzie.’ Then she slumped onto the marble bench, resting one cheek on the coolness of the stone.
Dan awkwardly rested a hand on her back and patted it reassuringly. ‘Vodka,’ he explained.
‘Anna,’ Ry grinned. ‘I’m shocked. Since when can’t you handle your vodka?’
‘Since I grew up and got sensible. Ohhh,’ she groaned. ‘Coffee. Espresso. Please.’
Ry swung into action at the coffee machine and Julia looked to Dan.
‘She doesn’t look good,’ she whispered.
Dan shrugged. ‘She drank most of the vodka.’
‘That’s ’cos you were doing all the talking and I was doing all the listening, Danny. This is all your fault, you know. I didn’t get any sleep, either. The waves were too noisy. And my back aches. Your bed is so uncomfortable.’
Lizzie suddenly felt like a spare bridesmaid at a wedding. She slurped the last of her coffee and set the glass down on the counter. ‘Great coffee, Ry. I’ve got to go. I promised Harri I’d stop by this morning and hang out her washing. Her hip’s been playing up.’ She stood to go.
Take that, everyone. You’re all having wild parties and crazy sex and I’m hanging out with the retiree next door. My life is so awesome it hurts. ‘Hope you’re feeling better, Anna.’
Anna moaned, not lifting her head. ‘Thanks, Lizzie. I’m so sorry…’
Julia shot Lizzie a wide-eyed glare. Ry smiled a goodbye. The only one who couldn’t meet her eyes was Dan. She took a deep breath, turned. Ready to head back to her old life. This detour, no matter how green the eyes or how amazing the sex, was definitely, completely over.
‘I’ll see you all later.’
‘Elizabeth, wait.’ She looked back over her shoulder. Dan was walking towards her. ‘I need to talk to you…’
‘Yes?’ she bit back, her heartbeat cracking a hole in her ribcage. She hoped she was far enough away from everyone so they couldn’t see the tears of humiliation stinging her eyes.
‘The tables and chairs are arriving in the next couple of days. We’ll need to talk about storage and layout.’
‘Sure. Text me.’ She swallowed hard, found an indifferent smile from somewhere deep inside, turned and then left.
The walk back to her house had never felt so long or so lonely. Lizzie felt foolish. She’d believed Dan when he’d told her that he didn’t want to hide the fact that they’d spent the night together. She’d fallen for it. And then the old girlfriend slips back into town and he fucks her instead, for what – old times’ sake? A laugh? Because they were drunk? And he didn’t seem to have any qualms about making it public either. It appeared the old Dan McSwaine was back. Congratulations and good luck to him.
If Lizzie could have kicked herself, she would have. What was so mortifying was that she’d willingly joined the queue of women who’d jumped into bed with Dan McSwaine. When he’d turned his emerald eyes on her, she’d folded like a cheap card table.
Worst. Idea. Ever.
She had to put it behind her. Lizzie knew her life would go on. The ebb and flow of her existence in the Point would continue, like the tides, going on day after day, whether Dan was part of it or not. Once they’d finished the pub renovation she could keep her distance from him. That was totally do-able. Except that he was Ry’s best friend and she was Julia’s. And, oh God, there was a wedding to get through. Lizzie resolved to do a Scarlett O’Hara on that one and think about it tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Not today. Definitely not today.
Lizzie turned the corner into her street and an unfamiliar car in her driveway caught her eye. A big silver four-wheel drive, dulled by a layer of dust and muddy splatters around the wheels. As she got closer she noticed it had New South Wales number plates.
There was no sign of life near it and it was locked. Peering inside, she noticed the detritus of fast-food containers and dead takeaway coffees on the floor. Lizzie decided to pop next door to ask if her keen-eyed and professionally suspicious neighbour had seen anything.
‘Harri?’ she called at the front door. ‘It’s me. Someone’s parked in my driveway. You got a gentleman caller?’
‘I do, doll. Come in and see.’ Harri’s hip may have been buggered but there was nothing wrong with that booming voice, probably an adapted survival mechanism so she could be heard above all the shouting, deep-voiced blokes in Parliament. Lizzie made her way down the neat as a pin hallway and as she turned into the small, bright room, she stopped. In shock.
Sitting at the table, sipping tea with Harri was her big brother, Joe, waiting with a mischievous smile, watching to see her reaction
‘Hey Mosquito. How’s life?’ Joe pushed his chair back and stood, seeming even taller than she
remembered. His sandy-blond hair was cut short and his tanned face grinned back at her. Growing up, they’d always wondered if he’d scored his football player good looks from their father. They would never know.
‘Joe?’
‘Well, are you going to hug me or not?’ When he opened his arms wide, Lizzie ran into his embrace. She threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
‘Check it out, Harri.’ Joe winked. ‘She’s obviously thrilled to see me.’
‘Stinkface,’ Lizzie managed to mumble through her tears.
‘Don’t stay close too long, Mosquito. I haven’t had a shower since Sydney two days ago.’
But Lizzie held on tight anyway, her tears soaking through his shirt, her chest shaking with trembling sobs. Joe looked at Harri with raised eyebrows and the older woman shrugged, as if to say, don’t look at me. He patted his sister on the back consolingly.
‘You all right, Lizzie?’
‘Why don’t I put the kettle on?’ Harri rose slowly and limped to the stove.
Eventually, Lizzie let go of her brother, pushed herself back to get a decent look at him. She couldn’t believe it.
Joe was back in Middle Point.
She had to shake her head a little to let his presence sink in. It seemed like someone, somewhere, had thrown a deck of cards into the air and they were falling in all the wrong places. What the hell was going on in her world?
She sniffed the air, laughter hitching on a sob in her throat. ‘You do stink.’
‘Thanks.’ Joe sat down again.
For a minute, Lizzie simply stared at him. While they talked on the phone regularly, she hadn’t seen him in years. Lizzie didn’t like to leave Middle Point and his new life in Sydney had kept him there. She knew one thing, though. He looked way older than the headshot the paper used at the top of his column.
Questions began firing out of her mouth like bullets. ‘What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming? How come you’ve driven for two days straight instead of flying? How long are you here for? And where’s Jasmine?’
Someone Like You Page 15