by Ali Berg
‘Oh, just a little accident, I’m fine. What happened to you?’ Bea asked as she delicately fell onto the couch next to Ruth.
It took a moment for Ruth to respond. Her eyes were frozen on the wall opposite her, miles away. She sniffed. ‘I’ve never been separated from Philip before.’
‘Separated? What do you mean? Is everything okay with Philip?’
Ruth dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. I decided to get his room repainted, including some updates on the Elizabeth and Philip mural.’
Bea nodded along, trying to keep up. A new painted room for a ferret? She thought of her own bedroom walls, cracks and all.
‘The contractors came yesterday and they said we’d need to evacuate Philip from the house for at least the next week! Apparently the fumes won’t be good for him or me. Can you believe it? So, naturally, I looked into staying at one of those dog stays. But they don’t allow ferrets. The nerve!’ Bea had never seen Ruth as frazzled as this. ‘I tried to smuggle him in to The Langham but housekeeping sprung us and management threatened to kick us both out if I didn’t rehome him! I didn’t know what to do. Philip doesn’t get along with strangers and I can’t very well give him to my insipid sister for the week, can I? He despises her.’ Ruth gave a stressed cackle. ‘Then I remembered how good you were with little Philip. How he bonded with you, and ran into your arms at the cinema. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Ruth smiled fondly, before frowning again.
Poor Ruth. ‘So, how can I help?’ Bea asked.
‘Well, seeing as you’re so good with Phil …’
Oh no.
‘And he can’t stay in the house for the week …’
Oh dear God, no.
‘The paint fumes will kill him …’
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
‘And he can’t stay with me …’
Look apathetic. Look apathetic. ‘Oh?’
‘Would you … Would you perhaps consider …’
I’ll do anything but this! Anything!
‘Looking after my dear Philip? Just for a few days, two weeks maximum, while I sort myself out?’
[EM]NOOOOOOOOOOO! [/EM]‘Yes.’
‘Yes? Really?’
‘Yes?’ Bea said tentatively.
Ruth let out a large whoop and pulled Bea and her recently operated-on ankle towards her. Philip wiggled uneasily between their bodies.
Bea gently extricated herself from Ruth’s painful hug, easing her bottom backwards until her top half could follow.
‘Well, I’m just so relieved,’ Ruth gushed. ‘Philip means everything to me and I can’t stand being away from him. I can’t even go to the loo without bringing him along! I hate to be indebted to people – makes me feel weak and
burdened – but I had to put my baby first. Didn’t I, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh?’ she cooed, tickling the now very contented ferret under his chin.
‘Of course, I’m so pleased I could help,’ Bea said through gritted teeth.
‘Excellent, excellent!’ Ruth trilled. ‘I’ll just pop down and get his things!’
‘His things? Already?’
‘Well, yes. Best he moves in right away. All this change and uncertainty hasn’t been good for his mental health. Plus, I’m due to be in Sydney for some female founders function and I couldn’t bear to upheave him again.’
His mental health? What about my mental health?
Ruth stood up, shoving Philip at Bea, and headed for the door. ‘I’ll be right back. Should only take two trips.’
Following three trips to her car, Ruth had officially overrun Bea’s living room with ferret paraphernalia, including a large chicken wire enclosure, two harnesses – one for day and one that glowed in the dark for those impromptu evening walks he liked to go on – food and water bowls, litter box, cleaning products – ‘he needs his enclosure swept clean twice a week’ – two large boxes of toys, a fluoro tunnel to ‘mentally stimulate him’, a sleeping bag, a small hammock and a round wicker basket for him to sleep in. Oh, and Bea’s freezer was now filled to bursting with raw chicken. ‘He’ll only need eight to ten small meals a day. His metabolic system really is something to envy!’ Ruth told Bea. Thank goodness Bea had thrown just about everything out during her Marie Kondo cleanse, otherwise she might have been forced to move to a bigger apartment.
‘I so appreciate you helping me, Beatrix. Really. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?’
Bea thought for a moment. ‘Well, yes, actually. Remember how I mentioned that I’ve just started a little marketing agency? It’s nothing really. But I was wondering whether you might be able to help me at some stage? Just some advice, if you don’t mind. Seeing as you’re such a successful businesswoman and all.’ Bea shrugged, embarrassed. She always felt a little uncomfortable asking favours, but seeing as she had just agreed to babysit a ferret, she thought she was probably owed one.
‘Oh yes, of course, Beatrix. If you help my Philip, I’ll help your business. One piece of advice for you: Grow silently. That way your competitors won’t know what hit them when you’re giant and brilliant.’
Bea nodded, taking in Ruth’s wisdom.
‘Okay then, now you be in touch,’ Ruth said to the ferret.
‘Um, okay. Well, let me know how the painting progresses!’ Bea said desperately, propped against the wooden frame of her front door. Ruth waved, making her way down the corridor.
Sighing, Bea placed a disgruntled Philip in his enclosure, popped two more endones and lay back down on her couch. What the hell just happened?
Bea’s eyes fluttered open. She squinted, the glare of the day penetrating to the very back of her skull. So she closed her eyes again, pulled her throw over her head and tried
to fall back to sleep. A soft clanking sound coming from her kitchen forced her eyes back open. Still huddled under the blanket, she listened carefully. Yep, that was definitely my cupboards opening and closing. Bea stiffened. Still achy and slightly high from the last dose of painkillers, she tried to retrace her steps to where she had discarded her portable panic alarm. Her nightstand. She would never make it there in time, not in this state. Okay, maybe if I just lie really still, they’ll just leave. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw.
A loud crashing sound made Bea jerk. I hope to God that ferrets are the German shepherds of the weasel family, she thought. Footsteps. She could definitely hear footsteps getting louder. They traced around one length of the room, paused, then continued. Then they paused again. Bea felt a looming presence, heard ragged breathing. Two fingers laced themselves under the side of her blanket.
Bea tensed, bracing herself. ‘Please don’t kill me!’ she cried.
‘Bea?’ a voice said. ‘It’s me, Zach. Relax!’
‘Zach?’ Bea opened one eye. ‘What are you doing here? How did you get in?’
‘With the key you gave me.’
‘I gave you a key?’
‘Yeah, you gave it to me when I dropped you home and insisted that I use it to check that you hadn’t died in your sleep.’
‘God, painkillers make me dramatic.’ Bea let herself relax. ‘Here, help me up.’
Holding her hand and elbow, Zach carefully hoisted Bea to a sitting position, an arm tucked behind his back.
‘How are you feeling? And what the hell is that ferret doing in your home?’
Philip! She had hoped she’d dreamt his arrival.
‘He’s already tried to bite me! He and I do not get along.’ Zach frowned. Bea rubbed her temples, worried about animals’ intuition.
‘Hey, I brought you these.’ Zach extended his arm, revealling a bunch of purple and white daffodils he was holding.
‘They’re beautiful!’
Zach beamed, his whole face lighting up like a labrador who had just received an encouraging pat on the head. ‘I couldn’t find a vase. In fact, it looks like the only things left in this place are your couch and the stuff for that ferret.’
‘I’m trying som
ething new.’
‘I can see that.’
‘Let me see if I can find you something.’ Bea shuffled to the edge of the couch, grimaced, and slid back down.
‘Don’t move. Let me,’ Zach said, squeezing her arm.
Bea smiled in thanks and rested her head against the back of the couch. She had absolutely no recollection of handing over her keys to Zach. Damn, those drugs have a kick! But in the dim, ferret-filled, empty-cupboard, afternoon light, Bea was more than slightly grateful for the company.
‘That should do the trick!’ Zach returned triumphantly from the kitchen, holding a large, deep pot and a recycled pasta sauce jar, out of which poked the daffodils. He side-stepped the ferret’s cage (which did not go unnoticed by Philip, who let out a low, menacing hiss), placed the flowers on the coffee table with a flourish and then flopped onto the couch next to her.
‘Well done, you. Very resourceful.’ Bea clapped theatrically. ‘Are you even real?’ She narrowed her eyes.
Zach frowned. ‘Of course I’m real. Are you real?’
‘As real as an evergreen tree.’
Zach laughed – a full, hearty sound. He pinched her cheek and snuggled in a little closer. ‘You’re odd. But I like odd.’
‘You’re the one who’s odd. One minute you’re being paid to date me, next minute you’re bringing me flowers and cleaning my living room.’
‘Hang on a second, I haven’t cleaned your living room!’
‘Yet.’ Bea winked.
Zach laughed and kissed her delicately on the lips. Bea kissed him back with a passion that she probably shouldn’t have had only a couple of days after surgery. He leaned his body over her, while being careful not to settle any weight on her. She let out a small moan.
‘Zach,’ she purred.
‘Bea,’ he whispered back huskily.
‘I want to, you know …’ Her face was flushed, her ankle still propped up awkwardly on a pillow.
‘Oh! You want to do … it?’ Zach raised an eyebrow. He was still balancing on his hands, holding himself over her. Their noses were so close they were almost touching. ‘Are you – are you sure you’re okay to?’Zach asked tentatively, glancing at her moon boot.
‘Yes,’ Bea said definitively. ‘You might just have to do all the work.’ She shrugged playfully.
‘I can handle that.’ He kissed her softly on her neck, then her collarbone, and then propelled himself down lower, half his body now dangling clumsily off the couch, to kiss her chest, her stomach. Bea’s whole body was instantly covered in goosebumps, her breathing shallow. She ran her fingers through his hair, and felt him smile. He slowly but carefully slid down her tracksuit pants and underwear in one go, as Bea awkwardly shuffled back, her broken ankle not allowing her to move as quickly as she desired. Zach returned to kissing her stomach, excruciatingly and agonisingly slowly. Her back arched, her breath quickened even more as if telling him to hurry up. And then he was kissing her lower. And lower. Until he was kissing her exactly as low as she wanted him to go.
Dear Ramona,
I know, I know! The place is a pigsty. I’ve been recovering from surgery and barely able to function (plus you not being here last week really threw me! How was your holiday, by the way?) Do me a favour and please, please, throw out what’s left of the endone. I do not need any more chemical highs in my life.
Thanks. Sorry. Lots of love.
Bea xx
PS How do you feel about cleaning ferret cages? I owe you one!
Bea,
I allergic to animal hair so cannot clean today. Please tell me when animal has left.
Sorry. Ramona
PS My holiday very nice and romantic.
SPEED DATE A BOOK
Quit trying to find your perfect man or woman, and start seeking your perfect paperback. Founder of Melbourne based marketing agency Platypus, Bea Babbage, and local barista, Grover Dinopoli, have founded a dating platform with a twist. Rather than helping you to find your soulmate, Next Chapter will assist you in finding your next great literary love. Hosted at Mr Dinopoli’s The Nook, participants simply bring their favourite novel and have five minutes to sell it to another reader. If you like the sound of the book, you take it; if you don’t, you move on.
‘We’re really excited. We’re expecting a big turnout, and maybe a surprise celebrity guest or two,’ says Ms Babbage of the upcoming Next Chapter event.
‘I think the beauty of Next Chapter is we’re uniting people over their passion for books. Nowadays, reading is rarely a solitary pursuit. It’s about camaraderie, companionship, community. And we want to celebrate that in our own unique way,’ says Mr Dinopoli.
The next event is Saturday 25 July at 7pm at The Nook, South Yarra. Entry is $10, and you’ll need to register for a spot via [email protected]
Bea: Dino, did you see? Our article is finally up on Broadsheet. This is going to be huge for Next Chapter. Only ten days to go now! We really should meet to iron out the final details. Let me know when suits AHHH
Bea slid her phone across the kitchen table and rolled her eyes. Why did she even bother with Dino? Of course he wasn’t going to reply. He was so stubborn. And besides, Bea was angry with him. How dare he tell me who I can and cannot be in a relationship with? Who I can and cannot forgive? It’s not like I have any say over Sunday!
Today was her first day back at work and she couldn’t have been more excited. After she had handed over her keys to Zach in a drug-induced state, he had been practically living at her place. The past week had been a haze of hand massages, cleaning up after Philip’s indiscretions (which wasn’t easy with Philip’s vehement hatred of Zach), healthy food banquets, and blissful, mind-blowing sex. However, while she was enjoying Zach’s company, and his commitment to keeping her fridge stocked and her body satisfied, Bea couldn’t deny that she was starting to feel a little stifled.
Bea poured herself a bowl of gluten-free grains and almond milk. Having mastered the awkward moon boot
shuffle/limp, she was able to get around without needing her crutches. She sat down with her bowl of health and spooned the bland concoction into her mouth.
Zach, fresh from the shower, sauntered up behind her. His hair was damp and he smelled of strawberries. ‘First day back! Are you sure you’re ready for this, babe?’ he asked, massaging her shoulders temptingly from behind.
Ach! That nickname. I can’t stomach it. ‘I’m positive. You have to stop worrying about me, Zach. I’m fine,’ Bea said, scraping her spoon along the rim of the bowl and distracting herself from the fight she wanted to pick with him. ‘Plus, I have to get back to it. I’m so behind on everything! I have a million missed emails from Mia and don’t even get me started on the freelancing work I’m not even close to finishing. And then there’s Next Chapter. I really need to get Dino in a room and finalise our plans.’ Bea exhaled. ‘The list is never-ending!’ she exclaimed, slowly getting up from her stool to put her empty bowl in the sink.
Before she could take a step, Zach took the bowl from her, kissing the back of her head as he passed. ‘Just make sure you take it easy.’
Bea wasn’t sure whether he was referring to her healing ankle or her interactions with Dino. While she hadn’t brought up their tiff, he had found the Uber Eats delivery bags stashed in the back of the pantry cupboard. ‘Stop fretting. I’ll be fine. Will you be here later?’ she asked, kissing him lightly.
‘Do you want me to be?’ He kissed her back with ardour.
She leaned in for a moment, giving in to him, before pulling away. She had to get to work, and she couldn’t help
feeling that he was trying to use sex as a way to trap her into staying. She turned around as abruptly as her moon boot would let her, picked up her red tote bag, then attached a lead to Philip and hobbled towards her front door.
‘See you!’
‘Love you!’ he called back, but Bea had already closed the door behind her.
It felt good to be back at work. Even though she only
had a small desk to herself, it felt like she had more space than she’d had all week. The cathartic sounds of keyboards clacking, brainstorming sessions and client phone calls from the start-up founders around her fuelled her creativity. It was a relief that, for the first time in a week, her head was now filled with strategies and flowcharts, rather than Zach, Dino, Zach, Dino, Zach. Philip’s leash was tied to the leg of her desk (thankfully Revolver Lane was a pet-friendly space) and he was sleeping soundly, making a gentle purring noise.
Just as she was getting settled, the front door swung open. Bea heard her before she saw her – she would have recognised those heel clicks anywhere! She looked up and, sure enough, standing in front of her was fabulous Martha. Bea still wasn’t used to seeing Martha in the flesh. She was wearing a bright red trenchcoat, which worked perfectly with her skin. Her hair was now shoulderlength and Cleopatra black, and Bea realised she must be wearing a wig. Bea smiled broadly, waving Martha over as she looked enviously from her ex-colleague’s exquisite shoes to her own Nike sneaker and clunky moon boot.
‘Martha! So good to see you. I am totally in your debt.’ Bea leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but Martha airkissed her on each side of her face.
‘The pleasure is all mine. I’m due some sick leave, and to be honest, this whole start-up vibe really gets me going. Besides, there’s not much I wouldn’t do for a fellow Austen fan! Now, what can I do to help you out?’ Martha stepped over Philip, not even mentioning the sleeping animal, pulled up a stool and perched on it cross-legged. Her posture was immaculate and she smelled of Chanel No. 5 – the epitome of sophistication.
‘Essentially, I have no idea how to create a financial forecast,’ Bea admitted, pulling up a spreadsheet she had put together and pointing at some numbers.
‘You’re in luck, Bea. That, I can help with.’ Martha smiled, pulling her laptop from her black bag and placing it neatly on her lap. ‘Do you have Xero?’
‘No.’
‘MYOB?’