The Blind Date Surprise

by Barbara Hannay

  She made an unnecessary show of studying the menu. ‘Are you having a salad, Mel?’

  ‘’Fraid so. I don’t dare have anything else. One of the guys at work has invited me to a gala ball next month and I’m trying to lose weight so I can squeeze into something red and strapless.’

  ‘A guy at work?’ Annie seized on the chance to divert attention from herself. ‘Come on, tell me more.’

  To her relief, Mel was happy to explain about Bill Brown, a cute, lanky, thirty-something guy in Planning. And then Mel went on to tell Annie about Victoria’s latest foray into the heady world of speed-dating and their girl talk steered into safer, Theo-free waters.

  It wasn’t till near the end of their lunch that Mel said, ‘So what happens next, Annie? Are you still going home to North Queensland next week, or are you planning to move in permanently with Theo?’

  ‘If everything works out, I won’t be going back to Southern Cross,’ Annie said and then she felt a slam of shock as she realised how easy it was to make such an astonishing statement.

  The days that followed were pure magic. First there was the weekend. Two whole days with Theo’s undivided attention; two days to explore Brisbane together.

  ‘Your enthusiasm is like a tonic,’ he told her. ‘I love seeing my home town through your eyes.’

  After his return to work on Monday, Annie took Basil for extra walks, or pottered about the house and courtyard garden. She continued her exploration of the galleries, and in the evenings she talked with Theo about what she’d discovered.

  It was pretty phenomenal the way she’d morphed so easily into a lust-pot. But Theo’s transformation was just as dramatic. It was hard to believe this amazing, red-hot lover was the same polite, rather formal ‘uncle’ she’d met such a short time ago.

  It was almost like waking up in one of those perfume commercials where a girl used a certain scent and suddenly there was a guy who needed to chase her with a bunch of flowers or murmur nonsense in her ear at the oddest moments, just because he loved the smell of her.

  And then there was the soul mate thing. It kind of got shoved aside in the heat of passion, but it crept in at other times. Annie couldn’t get enough of talking with Theo. They talked about everything and she was as crazy about his mind as she was about his body. And his smile.

  And the most fabulous thing was that Theo was absolutely committed to discovering the real Annie. She’d never met anyone so interested in her thoughts. He was intrigued by her past, her reactions to the present and her dreams for the future. She felt totally flattered.

  ‘Tell me more about your home at Southern Cross,’ he said one evening as she lay beside him in a stream of silver starlight.

  ‘What would you like to know?’

  ‘Do you have a favourite haunt?’

  ‘Lots.’

  ‘Any special place that you escape to when you want to be on your own?’

  ‘Yes, there’s a spot down by the creek.’

  Drawing her close, he pressed a warm kiss into the curve of her neck. ‘Tell me about it. I’d like to picture it. Shut your eyes and go there in your mind. Describe it to me.’

  With her eyes closed, she snuggled more comfortably against him. ‘Okay. I’m sitting on the creek bank.’

  ‘A high bank?’

  ‘Yes, a reasonably high, grassy bank with clumps of reeds growing down near the water’s edge. The water is dark green and still. You wouldn’t think it was moving at all, but there’s a leaf floating past very slowly. And there are little water spiders dimpling the surface.’ She turned to him. ‘They make little circular ripples all over the top of the water.’

  He nodded. ‘And is the water very clear?’

  ‘Yes, you can see through it to mossy logs on the bottom.’

  ‘Sounds lovely. What else?’

  ‘Well…there are lily pads all along the edge of the creek with tiny white flowers. And there’s a melaleuca tree on the opposite bank with branches leaning right out, low over the water at an impossible angle, and you half-expect the tree to topple into the creek. And…there’s a tangle of lantana bushes and a small wattle with yellow flowers that really stand out against all the green. And right on the top of the bank there are massive eucalypt trees towering up to the sky.’

  ‘Is it quiet there?’

  ‘Yes, absolutely.’

  ‘Can you hear anything?’

  ‘Mmm…every so often there’s a breeze that runs up the creek and you hear the sound of it whispering through the treetops.’

  ‘Birds?’

  ‘A peaceful dove. Honey-eaters. Chip chips.’

  He lifted a curl from her forehead and kissed her brow. ‘Annie, are you quite sure you’re not missing the bush?’

  His face was in shadow, but she thought she heard a throaty tension in his voice. She rubbed her cheek against the smooth cradle of his shoulder. ‘I’m sure, Theo. I love the bush and I guess it will always be my home, and I’ll be happy to go back to visit, but I’ve never felt I belonged there the way my brothers do. Lately, I’ve felt as if the outback was stifling me. I needed to escape. Damien was just an excuse. I was already desperate for a city life.’

  He seemed content with that.

  After a bit, Annie rolled on to her tummy and poked his shoulder. ‘Your turn,’ she said.

  He mumbled sleepily.

  ‘Come on, tell me one of your favourite places. Tell me about somewhere in Italy.’

  ‘Which city?’

  ‘I don’t mind. It’s all exciting to me.’

  ‘Give me a kiss first.’

  Annie was happy to oblige.

  ‘Okay, I’ll describe the view from the apartment I rented when I was studying in Rome. It’s in an ancient quarter called Trastevere, the place where musicians, writers and artists from all over the world like to stay—a bit like Greenwich Village in New York.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful. Are you looking out of a window?’

  ‘Yes.’ With his arms around her, he spoke softly in his lovely deep voice. ‘I’ve opened the shutters and it’s early. The light is still soft—and in the distance I can see the rounded outline of a hill with cypresses and umbrella pines silhouetted against the sky.’

  She felt an unexpected thrill as if she were there with him. She could see it all. ‘What about the buildings?’

  ‘Oh, there are plenty of them. I can see sloping, tiled rooftops, television aerials, spires and domes. There are ancient temples and Roman ruins crowding shoulder to shoulder with modern architecture. And if I look straight below me, I see a little cobbled piazza.’

  ‘Oh, wow! What else? Can you see any people?’

  ‘An old man sitting on the steps in front of a small fountain. A fellow putting up umbrellas on the tables outside a café. And another man opening up his newsstand.’

  ‘Where are the women? Still in bed?’

  Theo laughed. ‘There’s a woman watering her geraniums and herbs on a little balcony.’

  ‘Can you smell anything?’

  ‘Freshly baked bread and pizza.’

  ‘Oh, yum. It sounds truly amazing, Theo.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘I’d love to see it one day.’

  ‘I’ll take you there.’

  Another wild thrill sent her sitting bolt upright. ‘You really mean that?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, sounding almost as surprised as she was. ‘I really do.’

  On the days she took Basil for bonus walks Annie liked to explore the streets closer to Theo’s place, where humble, old-fashioned workers’ cottages were still scattered among the modern townhouses and apartment blocks.

  Friendly, elderly folk lived in the cottages, she noticed. Several were sitting on their front porches or working in their front gardens when she passed, and they smiled and nodded to her the way people in Mirrabrook did.

  She felt almost at home.

  That was how she met George.

  She saw the elderly man leaning on his front gate as she
walked down his street and she smiled and called, ‘Good morning.’

  He returned her greeting with a wave and suddenly Basil charged towards him, straining on the leash, his tail wagging madly.

  ‘Hello, Basil, old mate,’ the man said, leaning down to give the top of the Dalmatian’s head an affectionate scruff.

  ‘Do you two know each other?’ Annie asked.

  ‘We sure do.’ He beamed broadly. ‘I’m Basil’s grandfather.’

  Annie laughed, but her laugh turned into an exclamation of surprise as she watched the delirious way Basil responded to the old man. Basil’s grandfather? It was obvious these two knew each other very well. Did that mean…?

  Recognising her confusion, he grinned again. ‘I’m George Grainger, Theo’s father.’

  ‘Oh, my.’ She stared at him in amazement. It had never occurred to her that Theo’s father might live so close by. ‘So you’re Pop?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well—how nice.’

  ‘And you must be Annie.’

  ‘You’ve heard about me?’

  ‘Of course I have, love. From Damien and from Theo.’ He shook her proffered hand. ‘How do you do?’

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr Grainger.’

  Now that she looked more carefully, she could see the likeness to both Theo and Damien. George Grainger was shorter, probably because he was a little stooped, and his hair was white, his face lined and his knuckles knobbly with arthritis, but behind his glasses his eyes were the same alert hazel as his son’s and grandson’s.

  And he was looking at her with an intense interest that bordered on delight.

  ‘How is Damien?’ she asked, wondering exactly what George had been told about her connection to his son and his grandson.

  ‘Right as rain,’ he said. ‘He’s at work this morning.’ Then he surprised her by unlatching his gate and swinging it open. ‘Why don’t you come on in, Annie?’

  Basil pulled frantically on the leash in an effort to dive through the gateway. ‘Looks like Basil loves coming here,’ she said, giving in.

  ‘We’re old mates. I’m his favourite ear-scratcher and I look after him whenever Theo goes away.’

  Annie wondered what Theo would think if he could see her following his father down a shady path that took them around the side of his simple weatherboard cottage to a sunny back garden filled with plots of vegetables.

  ‘Wow! These are doing well,’ she said, looking around at staked tomato plants, rows of corn, silver-beet, carrots and lettuce. ‘You must have a wonderful green thumb.’

  He nodded, smiling. ‘Gardening keeps me active.’ Then he added, ‘This was Theo’s home when he was a boy, you know.’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ she said. ‘So he’s lived in this part of Brisbane all his life?’

  ‘Yep. Apart from the couple of semesters he’s spent studying overseas. He bought the town house around the corner when his mother took ill, so he could stay in close contact. We lost her four years ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘He’s a good son.’

  Annie tried to picture Theo here, growing up with his sister and parents in this tiny cottage, and she felt a touch embarrassed. What must a man from George Grainger’s generation think of a young woman who’d moved in with his son—who’d slept with his son—after such a short acquaintance?

  ‘You’re probably wondering why Damien moved out,’ she said.

  ‘Theo explained,’ George assured her. ‘He popped in last week to check whether Damien arrived here and he filled me in. His version was a little different from Damien’s, of course.’

  She would have loved to ask what George Grainger had been told, but refrained.

  ‘Would you like a cool drink?’ George looked at her eagerly, almost pleading with her to say yes. ‘Come along inside. Basil will be happy to lie here in the sun.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, recognising the loneliness behind his request. She’d experienced her share of loneliness at Southern Cross. ‘But I mustn’t stay long.’

  In the kitchen he invited her to sit at a small wooden table painted a fresh mint green and he took a jug from the refrigerator and poured her a glass of old-fashioned lemon and barley water.

  She looked around her and thought about Theo being here in this kitchen every day of his boyhood, eating breakfast at this table. She could imagine him coming in from playing outside and forgetting to wipe his feet, raiding the old pottery cookie jar, reading with a torch after lights out in a little bedroom down the hallway.

  She remembered to take a sip of her drink. ‘This is delicious, Mr Grainger.’

  ‘Call me George,’ he said and he smiled and began to ask her about her home in the outback.

  Ten minutes later, she realised she’d told him a potted history of almost everything about herself—about her brothers, their cattle property, her years at boarding school, her father’s death and her mother’s return to Scotland. She’d even confessed about her loneliness—and meeting Damien over the Internet.

  ‘You must miss your mother,’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ She drew a deep breath and tried to ignore the little niggle of hurt she felt whenever she remembered how easily her mother had resettled on the other side of the world.

  George’s keen eyes watched her for a moment or two, but when she didn’t volunteer anything else about her mother he told her stories about Theo—about what a terrific Rugby Union player he’d been, representing Queensland during his undergraduate days. And what a brilliant student he’d been. George confessed that he and his wife had never understood how they’d produced such a clever son—and then he added details of how wonderfully well Theo had looked after Damien.

  Annie would have happily stayed on with George. Between them they could have formed a Theo Grainger Admiration Society, but she had promised to meet Mel again for lunch, and so eventually she made her excuses.

  George accompanied her as she collected Basil. ‘Come and visit me again,’ he said.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she promised.

  At the front gate he said simply, ‘You’re the one, Annie.’

  ‘Th-the one?’

  His eyes shone shyly. ‘The one I’ve been waiting for Theo to find.’

  She felt a bright blush burning her cheeks. ‘You’ve shocked me, George. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know that was very forward of me. I’m a silly old man. But don’t worry, I won’t make trouble by saying anything to Theo.’ He bent down and patted Basil’s head. ‘I don’t reckon I’ll have to. Do you, mate? Not if Theo’s as smart as he makes out.’

  Driving home to Annie with a bright bouquet of flowers on the seat beside him, a bottle of expensive wine stowed in the glove box and tubs of aromatic Thai take-away packed in a box on the floor, Theo was comfortably confident that all was right with his world.

  He’d rung Annie mid-afternoon, but she’d still been out, so he’d left a message on the answering machine telling her not to worry about preparing dinner. He’d briefly toyed with the idea of taking her out to a restaurant—to La Piastra perhaps—but he was still feeling too selfish to share her with a room full of people.

  That was what infatuation did to a guy. Theo wanted, no, needed, to be alone with Annie. At home. Just the two of them. All night.

  He pictured how it would be when he walked into the kitchen this evening. Pictured the way Annie’s face would light up when she saw the flowers. She was so delightfully appreciative of the smallest gestures and she never held back in expressing her pleasure. Her eyes, her face, her whole body responded.

  Her uncomplicated spontaneity was contagious. Theo had caught himself whistling at work a couple of times this week. Whistling, for heaven’s sake. And his extravagant outbursts of cheerfulness had not gone unnoticed by the staff.

  However, he couldn’t be bothered about the wry glances of colleagues and their cryptic comments about his Ode to Joy. He was almost h
ome.

  And, as he thought of home, he recognised another dramatic shift in his thinking. Already he’d begun to suppose that Annie belonged in his home. The idea of her leaving to return to the wilds of North Queensland appalled him. He must make sure she understood how much he wanted her to stay.

  He wanted to introduce her to his father, too. The two of them were sure to hit it off. He’d even begun to consider contingency plans for Damien’s future. It was too much to expect old George to care for his grandson indefinitely and Damien’s mother was still tied up with her job in Sydney.

  But Damien would be attending UQ next year…Perhaps he would enjoy a year in a student residential college? Living on campus with other students would be good for him. St John’s College would suit him down to the ground…and Theo had good connections there.

  Pleased with that possibility, he smiled as his car rounded the corner into his street. But his smile and his musings were zapped instantly by the sight of a dark green sedan parked in front of his house.

  Claudia.

  What on earth was she doing here?

  Theo wasn’t given to overreaction, or to fanciful notions of telepathy, or premonitions for that matter, but at the sight of Claudia’s car a voice in his head whispered a distinct and chilling warning.

  He scowled as he parked his car in the garage. How long had Claudia been here? And how was Annie handling her visit?

  His scowl sharpened as he anticipated Claudia’s cynical reaction to his arrival with his arms full of telling purchases, and he almost left the flowers behind on the car seat but sudden loyalty to Annie changed his mind.

  Claudia could make of them whatever she wished.

  The two women were sitting in the courtyard drinking wine and as soon as Claudia spotted him she waved and called hello.

  He crossed the lawn and saw that the wine was one of her favourites. Almost certainly she’d brought it with her.

  ‘Oh, what a charming picture,’ Claudia said as he drew nearer. ‘Those flowers suit you beautifully, Theo. You should carry bouquets more often.’

  ‘Hello, Claudia.’ He tried to inject a degree of polite welcome into his voice but it fell rather flat.