“You know, Kate, you look beautiful tonight.”
She looked down at her outfit and giggled. It was a simple one — tight jeans and blouse and a pair of black leather boots. “Thanks,” she said, “but I think you must have your beer goggles on. I was in such a hurry — I didn’t have time to dress up.”
“No, really, you do. Your natural beauty shines through, whatever you’re wearing.”
Her eyes dropped to the envelope, still resting on the table. “Not beautiful enough for Lawrence.”
Evan raised his beer and took a long drink, finishing it off. Taking the envelope, he removed the photo and held it up, eyes flicking between the image and Kate. “She’s pretty all right, I’ll give you that.” He tore the photo in half, then half again, slowly and deliberately, letting the pieces fall to the table, eyes on Kate. “But not beautiful. Not like you.”
She blushed. “That’s nice of you to say so.”
“It’s true. If Lawrence can’t see it, then he’s mad.”
She giggled again, then looked at her watch. Seven-thirty. As much as she was enjoying herself, she needed to get home — back to Corbin. Evan was staring at her, hands behind his head, smiling faintly, an odd, faraway expression on his face. So stiff and tense when they’d sat down, he now reclined in his chair, almost sliding off it.
“I’m sorry, Evan, but I need to get going. Thanks for a lovely evening.”
There was a delay before his eyes widened and he sat straighter. “Yeah, of course. Corbin’ll be missing you.” He pushed his chair back, patting the pockets of his jeans. “I’ve got this.”
“No you don’t,” said Kate, standing. “You’ve done me a favour tonight. The photo…” She looked at the tattered scraps strewn on the table. “I’m paying,” she said forcefully, gathering her coat and handbag.
“I don’t mind, really,” said Evan, but she’d already started off, heading to the desk to pay.
She felt a little nauseous as they made their way outside, the lights suddenly too bright. She burped, placing her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. They stepped outside, stopping beneath the covered entranceway and peering through the misty rain into the darkness beyond.
“Where’d you park?” she asked, scanning the rows of parked cars.
“I walked,” said Evan. “I only live five minutes up the road.”
“Want a lift home?”
“Sure. That’d be great.”
She took his hand, smiling as his fingers locked with hers. “Let’s go.” She darted into the rain, towing him behind her.
She’d parked round the side of the hotel, less than a hundred metres away, but hadn’t even made fifty when her feet flew out from under her and she fell forward, collapsing to the ground, rolling as she did, tugging Evan off balance. He tripped, falling with her, their hands parting. He landed on top of her, sandwiching her between his chest and the asphalt.
“Shit, sorry!” he said. “You okay?”
She didn’t answer immediately, looking over his shoulder at the slowly spinning hotel lights, her bum feeling wet through her jeans, the weight and warmth of Evan’s body strangely comforting. “Fuck,” she said, as realisation dawned.
“What?” asked Evan. “Are you hurt?”
“No. But I’m drunk.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Kate felt her car swing to the right and hit a bump before lurching downhill, the wheels crunching over something that wasn’t asphalt. “What’re you doing?” she asked, opening her eyes and parting her fingers to peer at Evan in the driver’s seat. The car levelled out and came to an abrupt halt, the headlights illuminating the rear of a parked car and beyond that a gravel driveway that looped back up to the road. The view was spotted with white flashes, the rain falling heavy now.
“Umm,” Evan said, switching off the engine, “I think we might have a problem.”
“Yeah? Wassat?” she said, feeling sick, knowing what was coming.
“I can’t drive you home. I think I’m drunk too.”
Her reply was a strangled groan.
“S’okay. My flat’s just down that path,” he said, pointing into the murk. “Come inside… have a cuppa tea…”
“Then what?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. Catch a cab?”
“Oh, God.” Just the thought of it made her stomach turn. Even if Evan had been sober enough to drive, she wasn’t sure she’d want to go with him. Winding her way through the gorge in the dark… “Whoa… hold on.” She snatched at the door handle and fell outside, stooped, hands on her knees. She retched, clutching her belly, the muscles contracting beneath her fingers… but nothing came, and the moment passed. “Shit,” she said, panting, “That was close.” She straightened, hand on the door for support. “All right then, let’s go.” Evan nodded at her, eyes wide. “Quick. Before you have to carry me.”
They stumbled down the path to Evan’s flat. He fumbled for his key, managed to insert it into the lock on the third attempt and ushered her in. He closed the door, switched on the light and swam across the room, collapsing on the couch. She slumped down next to him, head spinning, closing her eyes in the hope that would make it stop. It didn’t. After a moment, she folded her arms, shivering. Opening one eye, she said, “It’s freezing in here. Gotta blanket?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Evan heaved himself off the couch and crossed the room, flicking the switch on an oil heater next to the TV, dialing the thermostat up high. He disappeared through a door, returning a moment later with a crumpled duvet which he handed to her.
She wrapped it around herself, clutching it tight.
“Cup of tea?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe a bucket.”
Evan lumbered into the kitchen and ducked behind the counter. There was the sound of cupboard doors opening and slamming, and then he popped up again, a large plastic bowl in his hand, before shuffling back to Kate.
“Here,” he croaked. “Use this.”
She poked one hand out from the duvet and took it from him, resting it on her lap.
“Whatcha gonna do?”
“Dunno.” She opened her other eye, puffing her cheeks up, letting the air out slow. “How much did you have t’drink?”
“Four, five beers. S’weird. Not enough to be this drunk.”
“No, neither.” She regarded the pattern on the duvet. It was striped, white and pale blue. There was a dirty yellowish stain above her knee, and she briefly wondered what it might be.
Why was she so drunk? Like Evan, she’d only had three or four wines, hadn’t she? Yet her stomach complained as though she’d had three times that. The thought was a troubling one, and she felt like she was missing something, but her head swam and whatever it was floated just beyond her grasp, drifting away.
Evan’s legs gave way and he flopped onto the couch next to her. “You could stay here. Go home in the morning.”
“I need to take my pants off.”
“Wha?” said Evan, blinking.
“My bum’s wet. Feels gross.” She hitched the duvet, lifting a leg. “Can you take m’boots off?”
“Oh,” said Evan. “Sure.” He stood, wobbling, then grasped her foot.
She felt beneath the duvet, fumbling through her handbag for her phone. “I need to call Tracy.”
“You staying?” he asked, sliding her boot off and dropping it on the floor.
“Think so,” she said, searching for Tracy’s number. She raised her other foot. “I hope she’s okay with it.”
“You can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind…” She paused, raising one eyebrow.
“What?” He slipped the boot off.
“Shhh,” she said, putting a finger to her lips. “Hello… Tracy?”
The line dipped out and all she heard was “…avy. She’s having a bath. …na talk to her?”
She considered this. “No, leave her. How’s Corbin?”
“All good. He’s in his
pyjamas, playing with Hayley in her room.”
“PJs, huh? Thas good… cos, well…” she struggled to finish the sentence, not just because she felt guilty about what she was about to say, but because she needed to throw up.
“Kate? Hello… are you there?” Davy’s voice squeaked at her from the couch.
She removed her head from the bowl and returned the phone to her ear, blinking back tears. “Sorry, Davy… had a moment there. Ahh, look… the thing is, I don’t think I’m gonna make it back tonight to pick up Corbin.”
“Really? What’s happened? You okay?”
“I’m fine. Ish. Just a little too drunk to drive. I think I need to stay here awhile. Sleep it off.”
“Oh.”
His tone was non-committal, so she wasn’t sure whether the ‘oh’ meant All good, we’ll see you in the morning, or Man, Tracy is not gonna like this. “I could catch a taxi, if you don’t want—”
“A taxi? From Queenstown? Don’t be silly, that’d cost a fortune. Corbin’ll be fine. He can top and tail in Hayley’s bed. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You sure? Tracy won’t be mad?”
“I didn’t say that. But the absolute best time to tell her will be after she’s had a nice, long, relaxing bath.”
“I’m sorry, Davy, I really am. I’ll be there as early as I can, I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it. Where are you staying?”
“With Ev — oh!”
“What?” asked Evan.
She looked up from her phone, frowning. “My phone’s just died.” She caught a whiff of the contents of the bowl and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Raising it towards Evan, she said, “Sorry, d’you mind?”
Evan took it from her and disappeared through a door to what she assumed was the bathroom. She heard the sound of a toilet flushing and then he reappeared, extending the bowl towards her.
“Nuh-uh,” she said, waving his hand away. “I think I’m okay for the moment. I feel a little better after that.” She extricated her handbag from beneath the duvet to search for her cellphone charger, but it wasn’t in there. “Huh. Don’t suppose you’ve got a Samsung charger?”
Swaying gently in front of her, like a tree in a breeze, Evan shook his head.
“Oh, well, never mind. What’s done is done.” Slipping down the couch, she unzipped her jeans. She pulled the duvet up to her chin and lifted both legs, pointing her toes at Evan. “My pants, if you would.”
Obediently, he tugged on them, struggling to work the hems of both legs over her heels. She struggled to assist him, leaning back on her elbows, pushing on her waistband, lifting her bum off the couch. The denim stuck to her thighs, refusing to budge, and he pulled harder, bending his knees, grunting with the effort.
“Come on,” she said, giggling. “It can’t be that bad.”
“I’m trying,” said Evan with a snort, which made her giggle more.
He crouched, bracing his legs, and pulled again, face red. She shoved off the couch, raising her bum higher, and suddenly her jeans came loose, flying off her.
Evan fell to the floor, cracking his head against the TV table, his exclamation of pain smothered by a face full of sodden denim. He sat up, her pants dropping into his lap, and closed one eye, rubbing the back of his head. She burst out laughing. “Hey.” he said, “Snot funny. That hurt.”
“Tis… when you fell… your face—” She burped loudly, bile rising into her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and screwed up her nose, swallowing it back. When she opened them again, eyes watering, Evan was the one laughing at her.
She joined in, huddled beneath the duvet, Evan still rubbing his head. She looked into his eyes, bright and warm, and beneath the sound of their mirth she heard the oil heater clicking, metal fins expanding as they warmed. As if signalled, something inside her shifted, a button pressed, and she stopped laughing.
She stood and stepped towards him, letting the duvet fall to the floor, revealing her naked legs, pale skin moist and tingling. “Here,” she said, extending her hand.
He fell silent, eyes wide, and clutched her hand. She helped him to his feet, and by accident or intent he stumbled, falling against her, his momentum carrying them back to the couch where they collapsed as one onto the cushions. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheeks, her heart speeding, and looked into his eyes, inches away. They burned with desire, fire flickering within the blue.
“What?” she whispered, breathing deep.
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Oh.”
Their lips touched. The first caress was soft and warm and she closed her eyes, a quiver dancing up her spine. Then she felt his hand on her thigh, the fingers cold, and she gasped her lips parting. He plunged into the breach and she responded in kind, suddenly urgent, her tongue darting out to meet with his. He moaned and she pushed him away, biting her lip, removed her coat and dropped it to the floor, then placed one hand on his shoulder and lowered the zipper of his jacket with the other, suspending it above his crotch. He shrugged it off and then was on her, his weight pressing her into the couch, lips gliding over her neck, hands moving at her waist. His touch was electric, fingers slipping down and under, then sliding up, tracing a circle round her navel. Her hands followed suit, travelling up his spine, radiating out, then digging with her nails. He groaned, arching his back, then snaked his lips over the curve of her neck, nibbling her ears, sparking a wave of pleasure that flowed through her core, setting her skin alight.
“Only one earring?” he breathed, tongue flicking out, the whisper like thunder in her ear.
A thought rose through the liquid fuzz at the back of her mind, tugging gently, but she felt giddy and hot and stupid, the pressure of Evan’s body against hers too urgent, and it fell again, sinking into the murk.
With a will of their own, her fingers crawled to the buckle of Evan’s belt. Removing his pants proved to be a much simpler task.
THIRTY-SIX
Evan woke, instantly wishing he hadn’t. Through the pounding in his head, he heard muffled noises from outside the bedroom, and then a voice, hesitant and querulous.
“Evan?”
Yumiko’s voice. She’d come home. He pushed himself up and slipped his legs from under the covers, lowering them to the floor. “In here…” he croaked. The hammering in his head surged and he closed his eyes, rubbing his temple.
Light footsteps on the carpet, the bedroom door sliding open. Yumiko appearing in the doorway, a frown wrinkling her brow, her eyes widening, face contorting, followed by a scream that exploded through his skull.
“You fucking bastard! How could you?”
And then she was gone.
“Yumi?” he said, the word dry and crumbling, like ash from a cigarette.
The door slammed and he turned and saw… a woman’s naked body lying next to him. He sprang off the bed, and as the covers fell away realised he was also nude. “Oh, shit.”
He ran to the door, hauling it open, launching over the threshold. “Yumiko!” he called. “Come back! I can explain…” But she wasn’t there, and as the words spewed out he knew it was a lie.
The air bit his skin and fogged his breath and he turned, shoulders slumped, stepping back into the house and closing the door behind him. He trudged to the bedroom and saw the woman — Kate, he now realised. An image of the previous night — bodies writhing, naked and reptilian — flashed inside his head. She was sitting up in his bed, the duvet wrapped around her shoulders, eyes hooded and bloodshot.
“Evan? What’s going on? Who was that? Oh, God, my head hurts.”
Evan moved to the dresser and opened a drawer, found a pair of boxers and slipped them on, stumbling as he bent to pull them over his legs. He sat at the foot of the bed, back to Kate, cradling his head in his hands. The deceit exposed, he confessed. “That,” he said, “was Yumiko. My girlfriend.” Lowering his hands, he turned to her. “Ex-girlfriend now, I guess.”
Kate stared at him. “You have a girlfriend?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
She leaned back on the pillows, slapping her palms against her face. “Oh, my God, it all makes sense now. No wonder you freaked out…” She slid her hands down, let them drop to the bedsheets, her eyes snapping open. “I’m such an idiot. Here I was thinking you’re… I don’t know… some kind of knight in shining armour, when the reality is you’re just as bad as Lawrence.” She gave a bitter snort. “Talk about going from the frying pan into the fire.”
Evan said nothing. Am I? He hadn’t meant it to turn out like this. He’d never wanted to hurt anyone, just wanted a bit of fun. But this isn’t fun. Not for anybody. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a scratchy whisper. “I should never have led you along the way I did. I didn’t mean to. I just… after that first date…” He shrugged. “I was curious. I liked you.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “Am I supposed to be flattered by that?”
“No. But I—”
“Wanted it both ways.” Sighing, she said, “Why are all you men ruled by your penises?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“No? Then what was it like?”
Again he didn’t reply.
Eventually Kate broke the miserable silence. “Look, I need to get going.” She pressed her temple, groaning. “Ooh, it hurts.”
“I asked her to marry me.”
“What?” She laughed then, in a way he’d never heard before — cold, cynical, her lips curled into a sneer. “Well, I guess she’s dodged a bullet then, hasn’t she? Better to find out who the real Evan is now rather than years down the track like I did.” Her eyes bored into him — swirling, dark, the sea in a gathering squall. “Where’re my clothes?”
Another image flared in his skull — tones of flesh and laughter; he and Kate stumbling to the bedroom, vital and bare-skinned, wrapped only in his duvet and each other. “I’ll get them.”
Taking the Plunge Page 24