Girl in Between Read online

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, sensing a gossamer thread of thought, which I dare not tread upon lest it break.

  ‘I think I was happiest when I was in London,’ she says.

  ‘London was amazing,’ I reply, feeling the sand’s warmth seep into my bones. ‘And you’ll always get work there,’ I say casually, knowing this conversation is now a delicate dance.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll always get work there,’ she echoes softly.

  We are now both up to our necks in sand, and the women with shovels are walking away.

  ‘Fuck me! I hope they’re coming back soon!’ Rosie exclaims, snapping out of her daydream.

  Later that evening, we lounge around in our ryokan. Rosie sits by the large, open windows and lights a cigarette, something she only does when she’s either super relaxed or super stressed. She exhales smoke into the night air.

  ‘You’re not fooling anyone, Luce,’ she says, looking at me.

  I glance up from the magazine I’m reading on the futon.

  ‘Least of all me,’ she adds. ‘Come on, what have you got behind that magazine?’ Suddenly she leaps up and walks across the tatami towards me.

  ‘It’s a local magazine, OL Style!’ I say, clutching it tightly. ‘OL is short for “Office Lady”,’ I explain as she rips the magazine from my hands.

  The book I’d been hiding falls into my lap, and she picks it up and reads the cover. ‘The Five Love Languages … Heaven help us all,’ she says, shaking her head at me and tossing the book back on my lap. ‘Once you’re finished with that, give it to me and I’ll burn it.’

  ‘Just so you know, I’m hovering between “Quality Time” and “Acts of Service”,’ I tell her.

  ‘Speaking of which, give us the list.’

  ‘Oh, that’s right,’ I say retrieving a piece of paper from the back pocket of my jeans and handing it to her.

  Earlier in the evening, she’d tasked me with finally writing the list of top five attributes I’m after in a partner.

  The smoke curls from her cigarette as she reads my list aloud. ‘Kind, intelligent, attractive, funny, adventurous, compassionate, a good communicator, generous, reliable, considerate … You know who you’re looking to meet?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jesus.’

  I gaze up at her.

  ‘Jesus could be in London,’ I say.

  When my taxi from the airport pulls up outside the house four days later, I see Mum sitting on a plastic chair in front of the shed, bawling.

  ‘Mum, what’s wrong?’ I ask, dropping my suitcase and running up to give her a hug.

  ‘Your father’s having an affair,’ she sobs.

  ‘No he’s not,’ I say with complete certainty.

  ‘How do you know?’ she asks.

  ‘No-one would want to have an affair with him,’ I say adamantly.

  ‘No-one except an ex-girlfriend!’

  I look at her, puzzled. ‘No! Not Ruth!’

  ‘Not Ruth? More like definitely Ruth! She’s been trying to get her mitts on your father since the day we got engaged!’

  ‘Mum, you sound like a crazy lady. Where’s all this coming from?’

  ‘Lucy, there is no bloody Jockey Club!’

  ‘What?’ I say, surprised.

  ‘There was an article in the paper today about how they’re converting the old Jockey Club building into a facility for the PCYC. It said that the Jockey Club folded five years ago!’

  ‘That’s weird, but there must be another explanation,’ I say, scratching my head. ‘Dad wouldn’t even know where to start with having an affair.’

  Mum wails.

  ‘Where is he, anyway?’ I ask, glancing around the driveway. ‘And why are you sitting out here, Mum?’

  ‘I don’t know where he is. I went looking for him after I read the article but he was nowhere to be found. He’s probably down at the car wash checking out Ruth in her bikini. Then I got your text saying you’d landed and I wanted to catch you as soon as you came up the drive, so I came out here.’

  The sound of Glenda barking inside the shed startles us both and as we swivel around the roller door slides up and Dad steps out. Glenda races between his legs towards me.

  ‘Well, isn’t this lovely, Brian? I know there’s no Jockey Club and now I’ve caught you red-handed!’ She yells in the direction of the shed, ‘Show’s over, Ruth—you can come out now!’

  ‘Calm down, Denise,’ says Dad. ‘Ruth’s not in there.’

  ‘Well, who is?’ asks Mum, craning her neck. ‘Not Helen from next door?’

  ‘No-one’s in there, Denise.’ Dad sighs and rolls the door down. ‘It was just me and Glenda.’

  ‘Are you doing home brewing on the side or something, Dad?’ I ask.

  ‘No, I just hang out in the shed when I need some space to think.’

  ‘What?’ asks Mum, as if she’d prefer he’d confessed he and Ruth had a love child.

  ‘I’ve been going to the Men’s Shed down at Archer Park. I’ve had the blues, and the boys have been good to me. We do woodturning and make traps for the myna birds and restore old bikes for the Endeavour Inn—heaps of practical stuff. And we all chat over our sausage sizzles.’

  ‘So why aren’t you there now?’ I ask.

  ‘Well, the Men’s Shed only operates on certain days. So when I need some time alone, I use our shed. I’ve bought a few woodturning tools to use here as well.’

  ‘This is the dizzy limit, Brian!’ exclaims Mum. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling lousy? We could have talked it through or gone on a holiday to New Zealand or something.’

  ‘You’re always so busy with your Qi-Gong or your tai chi or your African drumming and chanting, I figured it was best just to deal with it in my own way,’ Dad says. ‘You’d be surprised how many blokes start going to the Men’s Shed because they’re a bit down. But after a few weeks on the power saw building cubby houses to raffle, they’re right as rain.’

  ‘Oh, their poor wives,’ says Mum, shaking her head. ‘And you—poor you, Brian,’ she adds quickly. ‘Depression’s a shocking thing. What do they call it, the stray dog or the black cat or something?’

  ‘The black dog, Mum,’ I reply.

  ‘That’s right, the black dog,’ says Mum, patting Dad on the back. ‘Well, let’s go put the kettle on, shall we?’

  I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder. ‘Isn’t it hot in there, Dad?’

  ‘It’s bloody hot, Lucy,’ he says, picking up my suitcase. ‘I hid in there when I heard your mum start ranting about that newspaper article. I’m glad you came home when you did. I was dying of thirst and didn’t dare face her without you. Anyway, how was Japan?’

  ‘Oh yeah, it was great, you should see …’ I begin, but notice Dad’s attention has been drawn elsewhere.

  ‘Oscar!’ he yells, letting go of my suitcase and running down the driveway towards Oscar like a five-year-old who’s just spotted Santa.

  I look over at Mum to share the absurdity of Dad’s reaction, only to see she too is running towards Oscar with outstretched arms.

  Even Glenda joins the fray, jumping up at Oscar, her tail wagging furiously.

  ‘We’ve missed seeing you, mate,’ says Dad, shaking Oscar’s hand, then gripping his elbows and taking a step back to admire him, like people do in the movies. ‘What is it now, about three weeks since we last caught up?’

  ‘Yes, it’d be about three weeks, Brian,’ says Mum, her hand on Oscar’s bicep. ‘He only left a couple of days before Lucy went off to Japan,’ she continues, giving me a wonky wink that looks more like she’s struggling with an eye full of sunscreen.

  Oscar smiles at me and I grin back, chuffed he’s here. ‘Man, anyone’d think you were their kid returning home,’ I say, laughing.

  Oscar places his hand over Mum’s momentarily, sweetly signalling that she should release her grip. This kind gesture endears him to me even more and I glance briefly at the cement and smile as he walks toward me and wraps his arms around my sho
ulders.

  As I step back from him, I notice Mum and Dad standing off to the side, watching us. They’re grinning from ear to ear, looking from Oscar to me like we’re Torvill and Dean and have just taken out the gold medal for figure-skating. To my great annoyance, I’m blushing.

  ‘Do you want to come—?’ I say at the same time as he says, ‘Do you want to take—?’

  God, I wish those two would move!

  ‘Do you want to take Glenda for a walk up Mount Archer?’ he asks, giving her an enthusiastic back rub as she looks up at him adoringly.

  ‘That’d be lovely, Oscar,’ says Dad. ‘Just let me put my joggers on.’

  ‘He’s asking me, Dad!’ I exclaim.

  ‘I know!’ says Dad, chuckling as he walks up the stairs with my suitcase. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’

  Mum remains glued to the spot, still beaming at Oscar.

  ‘How was Japan?’ Oscar asks me.

  ‘Yeah, awesome,’ I reply. ‘It was a great trip. Just what the doctor ordered.’

  ‘Come on, Denise!’ says Dad, ushering her up the steps. ‘Let me show you this bowl I turned.’

  I shake my head at them as Mum strains to look back at us. ‘They’re out of control,’ I say to Oscar.

  ‘They’re the best.’ He smiles. ‘You’re lucky to have them both,’ he adds wistfully. ‘I miss Dad.’

  We arrive at the base of Mount Archer in the late afternoon. The sky is a swirl of burnt orange and pale pink through the gum trees. The air is crisp, with a faint smell of wood smoke.

  ‘So, when did you discover Mount Archer?’ I ask as we begin our ascent with Glenda.

  ‘Kate and I came here a few weeks ago.’

  ‘How did you know I was coming back today?’ I ask.

  ‘I didn’t. I just happened to see your taxi pull up.’

  We continue to scale the mountain, the sound of our footsteps crunching on roadside gravel intermingling with the afternoon chorus of birdsong and the occasional passing car.

  ‘Lucy,’ he says suddenly, looking across at me, ‘I wish there was a better way to say this, but I really, really like you.’

  His words set my heart spinning like the Gravitron and I consider him with a quizzical smile.

  ‘Meeting you has changed how I feel about Kate,’ he says quickly. ‘I still care about her, but, man, I’m falling in love with you.’

  I inhale sharply and stare at the road. My heart is now back flipping like a cage on the Mean Mother Zipper.

  ‘But I don’t know what to do,’ he continues, with some measure of distress, ‘because you live in Rocky, and I live in Sydney, and Kate lives in Sydney, and we still hang out.’

  Holy shit! I think. He’s falling in love with me? Wow! This is brill—oh no, he mentioned Kate too, didn’t he. Bugger.

  ‘What do you think about it all?’ he asks.

  ‘I think you need to figure out what you want,’ I reply. ‘And you need to do it independently of anything I say.’

  ‘What do you want for yourself, though?’ he asks.

  ‘I want to finish writing my novel by the end of the year,’ I reply. ‘And then I want to settle down somewhere and have someone in my life and feel like I’m doing worthwhile work.’

  ‘But where do you want to settle down?’ he asks.

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ I reply.

  ‘And what worthwhile work do you want to be doing?’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure, but when I was in Japan I had some time to think without the pressure of family and friends and it clarified for me that all I want to concentrate on for the moment is finishing Diamonds in the Dust while making enough cash not to starve.’

  ‘Are you still in love with that guy? That was him, wasn’t it, in the café that day?’

  ‘No, I’m not in love with Jeremy. I’m cured of that, thank God! I’ll always hope he’s doing well, but I’m not in love with him, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do,’ says Oscar. ‘I think I started falling for you that very first night we met. And every time I see you it’s like I struggle to breathe or something.’

  ‘Oh, Oscar,’ I say, grinning at him. ‘I really like you too! I think you’re the most gorgeous man. It’s just all taken me by surprise and, you know, you’ve still got something happening with Kate and I don’t know how to read this. You still have feelings for her, don’t you?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he says miserably. ‘Yes. But …’ He pauses.

  I stay quiet. Though I instinctively feel sympathetic towards his situation and the agony he’s going through, and long to tell him that he sets my world on fire, I also know he needs to make a decision without me affecting it one way or the other.

  ‘The crazy thing is,’ he continues, ‘I’ve only hung out with you a few times, but I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company as much as I enjoy yours. I feel so content when I’m with you. I can’t explain it. And the worst part is that I think I’m sounding keener than you.’

  ‘No, Oscar, the worst part is that you’re saying these things to me and you’ve got a girlfriend in Sydney who you also care about and who cares about you,’ I say and carry on walking up the mountain.

  ‘I wish I’d met you ten years ago,’ he says quietly, catching up to me. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful, warm, funny woman I’ve ever met.’ He puts his arms around my waist and pulls me towards him.

  Despite all my best intentions, I collapse into his embrace, my mouth melting into his like I’m some swooning contestant on The Bachelor. And even though I know what I’m doing is wrong, it feels so infinitely right.

  I’m vaguely aware of a car rounding the bend towards us, but the awareness takes a back seat to the wave of desire gripping every cell of my body. We cling hungrily to each other and if I hadn’t had a nightmare experience with gravel rash at a B&S in my early twenties, I’d be pinning him down on the road. So much for my moral high ground.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the car decelerate and I feel a surge of dread. There’s only one person in Rocky who drives a fluorescent green ute. It’s Ruth. She’s spotted us fair and square and grins broadly and waves out the window at us as she drives past.

  My heart sinks as I pull away from Oscar. Ruth will have a field day with this. And it’ll serve me right for succumbing to a man with a girlfriend, something I never thought I would do.

  ‘That’s not going to be great,’ I remark grimly as we watch her tail-lights disappear down the mountain.

  Oscar leans in to me again, but I push him away.

  ‘Oscar, you’ve got a lovely girlfriend who’d be devastated if she knew what just happened. And Ruth just saw us. The woman invented blackmail. She’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. She’ll hold us to ransom.’

  Oscar suddenly turns pale. ‘Would she tell Mum?’

  ‘She’s probably heading straight there now.’

  ‘Shit! I have to talk to her!’ he says.

  We run down the mountain, Glenda leading the way, jump in my Corolla and zoom across the old bridge like it’s about to crumble into the Fitzroy River.

  It’s dusk as we pull up at Ruth’s carwash and find her sitting on a collapsible chair, blowing smoke rings.

  ‘Ruth,’ I say.

  ‘Lucy,’ she replies with a big grin.

  ‘Ruth,’ Oscar says.

  ‘Oscar.’

  ‘Ruth, please don’t tell anyone,’ blurts Oscar.

  ‘Why not?’ asks Ruth, smoke snaking from one nostril. ‘Not over with Kate?’

  ‘No,’ he replies. ‘And I don’t want to hurt her.’

  A colourful cacophony of screeching parrots flies above us in the fading daylight. Ruth shifts triumphantly in her seat.

  A heavy exhaustion engulfs me, and I suddenly yearn to be a million miles away from this man.

  ‘I’m going, Oscar,’ I say. ‘See ya, Ruth.’

  ‘Lucy, wait,’ says Oscar, following me as I walk away. ‘I don’t want you to go. I fly back to Sydney tomorrow. Can’t we h
ang out?’

  ‘What? And sleep together so you can then go home and sleep with Kate? I don’t want this, Oscar. I don’t want to be the girl in between. And I don’t want to be the reason for someone else’s heartache.’

  I get into my car and drive off without a backward glance.

  I look across at the lane to my right. Mum’s swimming freestyle so slowly she may as well be floating. To my left, Rosie’s been down in the shallow end, ostensibly stretching out cramps, but really perving on the lifeguard. She’s been at it so long that her hair is now dry.

  I swim up and splash her with water. ‘You’re not fooling anyone, Rosie, least of all me,’ I say, smirking and flipping her kickboard off the ledge and into the pool. ‘Come on.’

  Rosie and I kick side by side down the lanes.

  ‘So why did I get twenty missed calls from you last night?’ she asks.

  ‘Because I was extremely distressed and severely jetlagged, and so emotionally overwrought that I cried through Antiques Roadshow.’

  ‘Shit,’ she says. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Oh, there was this woman with a little blue porcelain dog and it was part of a set of dogs and her twin sister had the other one, but then her sister died of leukaemia and she couldn’t …’ My voice begins to shake.

  ‘Oh, mate,’ says Rosie, ‘do you want to stop?’

  ‘No,’ I reply, resting my head on my board and continuing to kick. ‘Anyway,’ I say, taking a deep breath and staring ahead, ‘she’d desperately wanted to track down her twin sister’s dog because then they’d be forever united, if not physically as twins then in china, you know?’

  Rosie nods.

  ‘But she couldn’t …’ I stifle a sob. ‘She couldn’t find the dog.’

  We reach the end of the pool and push off again.

  ‘Luce,’ says Rosie, ‘what really happened?’

  ‘Oscar and I kissed halfway up Mount Archer, but he’s still going out with Kate, and I hate it that I did that while he’s seeing someone. And I’d been feeling really good after Japan, not overthinking things and being positive, and now I feel gutted and am waging a massive internal war with myself.’