‘It’s way bigger than we when were in school. When half the town turns out, it ends up being a nice loot for each school. And local takeaways love it because everyone goes out for dinner afterwards. It’s the best day of the year, besides end of last term,’ she explained.
I chanced a look outside my office and to the students running around the displays. It was almost a Supermarket Sweep effort, watching them zip across the library and grab at books like rabid word junkies.
‘This year, Marcus is captaining the school team.’
Currently, he was strolling around the library with his class. Like always, he was calm and casual. We’d barely spoken since the revelations of Wednesday night and, even with the chance to big note himself, he hadn’t gifted me that piece of information.
‘He is, is he?’ I asked.
‘Uh-huh.’ She covered the receiver and mumbled to someone in the background.
‘Interesting. Who else is on the team?’
‘The usual suspects. He’s roped Patrick into playing for the school, too.’ Penny swore at something. ‘Our landlord Patrick, by the way. I’m so glad you’ll get to meet him.’
‘Is that strange?’ I asked. ‘He’s not a teacher.’
‘Patrick is captain of the local team. Plus, it makes perfect sense when you see the amount of help our lot need to win. Oh! Here he is,’ she tittered excitedly. ‘Patrick’s just arrived.’
I laughed. ‘Okay, I need to go.’
‘Me, too. Shit, Phil’s here.’ The dial tone sounded in my ear.
When classes were over for the afternoon, with the start of the football match approaching, I sat back and looked at the aftermath of the Book Fair. My library had turned into a jumble sale. Order forms were strewn across my desks, the cash box looked like it was crawling home from a night on the town, and I wasn’t far from feeling like that, either. I was exhausted.
‘Ellie!’ Phil cruised about the library, inspecting the stock left on tables. ‘Successful day?’
‘It’s been so, so busy,’ I said. ‘I’m just going to tidy up a bit, reconcile the cash, and head out.’
‘Make sure you do. Make time to explore and watch some football.’
‘I will.’ I nodded.
While I had made my way around the room, upselling to parents and stacking books into recognisable piles, Jack had been performing dramatic readings. He’d moved from Shakespeare for children, to Spot, Blinky Bill and, now, Dr Seuss. He still had a very small audience who hadn’t yet made it outside. Each page he turned was met with a trill chirping noise, not unlike Disney audiobooks of the Eighties.
Turn the page when you hear Jack meow like this …
‘Jack, I’m just nipping out for a few minutes.’ I gestured wildly to the door, all the while he crawled about on a rug. ‘Do you need a drink?’
He meowed at me and thrust an ankle behind his ear. Stunned, I blinked a few times and walked away. In the staffroom, Penny had a handful of teachers circled around a table. Contributions to the picnic were sprawled across the table in front of them. Crackers, cheese, dips, drinks, cakes; you name it, they had it. Had I been asked to contribute? I couldn’t remember, but I was suddenly a little panicky about it all. Maybe I could snaffle some leftover cake from a stall outside. Yes, that’s exactly what I’d do.
‘Ellie!’ Penny shrieked.
‘Penny!’ I copied.
‘Kick-off soon. Will you be joining us for some PG-rated bubbles?’ She held up a can of soda, condensation rolling down the sides.
‘I will be out just as soon as I’ve finished up in here. Might not be right on time, but I’ll be there.’ I searched high and low for a clean drinking glass before giving up and rinsing the nearest one.
‘I can’t wait to see our fearless captain in his tight little shorts,’ Grace giggled, packing away a box of water crackers. While she was joined by a chorus of agreement, names of other footballers being bandied about like a pre-match coin toss, I felt something not unlike annoyance poking at me. It took me by surprise, and I wondered if it wasn’t just misplaced or misidentified feelings. I refilled my water bottle and slipped out of the room while they continued their conversation.
Slipping past Jack again, and rounding the loans counter, I noticed my office door was closed, though I was sure I’d left it open. I gave it a gentle nudge with my foot and …
‘What in the bloody hell fires of Mount Doom?’ I failed miserably at keeping my voice down.
There was a half-naked man in my office. He was an incredibly attractive man, with hair tripping over itself like waves rushing the shoreline, shorts around his ankles, and a body Taylor Swift would climb over herself for. He offered me a quick glance over his shoulder.
‘Oh, hello.’ He smiled, dimples deployed and stubble I wouldn’t mind getting a rash from.
This was not Marcus.
I bent over, folding myself almost completely in half until I made eye contact with my handsome new friend. His fluorescent workwear was in a scrunched pile on the floor. ‘Excuse me. What are you doing?’
He straightened up and pulled a football guernsey over his head and drew it slowly down a well-defined torso. So pretty. ‘Marc said I could get ready in here.’
I closed the door quietly, aware that a highly inquisitive group of mothers were already doing the sideways peer, their Half-Naked Man alert screaming like an air raid siren. Their reflections disappeared from a cabinet door as I pushed the office door closed.
‘Did he just?’ I puffed. ‘Jesus.’
‘Not quite, but I am a carpenter.’ He held out a hand that may very well have just been anywhere. ‘I’m Patrick.’
‘The infamous Patrick.’ I turned away and waited for him to finish dressing.
‘You can look, you know. I’m not actually naked.’ He stopped. ‘And what do you mean by “infamous”?’
‘Your reputation precedes you, Mr Nicholls.’ I scrambled around my desk looking for the school directory. It had disappeared from beside my computer monitor.
‘I would ask you to explain that over a drink, but Marc has already told me to steer clear.’
My lip curled. ‘It may surprise the both of you to learn that Marcus isn’t the boss of me.’
‘Wow, you two really are children.’ A snort became a laugh. ‘And here I was thinking he was exaggerating.’
Glaring at him, I concentrated on the dial tone in my ear.
‘Marcus Blair.’ His voice came wrapped in a telltale bathroom echo. And, if that wasn’t a dead giveaway, a suspicious tinkle in the background was. Boys.
‘Oh my, you are a consummate professional,’ I teased. ‘Is this your doing?’
‘Maybe?’ he answered slowly. ‘Depends what we’re talking about.’
‘There’s a barely dressed Patrick in my office.’
‘I have clothes on.’ Patrick scooped his pile of workwear from the floor and proceeded to stuff them into a duffel bag.
Marcus chuckled. ‘Tell me, is he waving his bits about and screeching about Excalibur? How it just needs the right lady to—’
‘Stop! Stop! Stop!’
‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ The phone died.
Patrick stepped past me and opened the door. ‘Listen, I’m not going to make any lame jokes about nailing things, or wood.’ A business card flashed in my face. ‘But if you ever need a decent erection.’
‘Get out.’ I pushed him further out the door and made sure to lock it behind me.
Patrick laughed as he walked away. ‘I can see why he likes you so much!’
As I watched him disappear down the hallway, I picked up the phone and dialled Penny’s number. She was partway through a conversation when she answered.
‘I swear, you had better have some alcohol in that picnic basket,’ I interrupted.
‘Well, there’s something in my basket. It’s clear and odourless, and it sure does make me feel good, sir, but I’m certain it’s just the rehydrating effects of water,’ she whispered. ‘
Get out here already.’
‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ I mumbled.
For a moment, silence. In the time between the staffroom and Patrick, the library had emptied out. All sales were done, Jack’s audience had scattered, and everyone had moved on to the oval. I was alone for the first time all day and took the opportunity to have five minutes to myself. Me and my box of sweets.
A jawbreaker stuck between my teeth, and it was worth every single one of the fifty cents I paid for it. To be fair, I was surprised they weren’t four dollars each owing to inflation, GDP or sugar tax. It was chewy, sweet, and a direct throwback to my childhood, to summer days, and salty beaches. And, man alive, when did I have to stop being a kid? I had a sudden urge to hide under my old Barbie duvet with a Choose Your Own Adventure book and a flashlight.
While I was busy trying to pick toffee out of my teeth, rather unladylike in my methods, I took a moment to check in on my phone. One missed call. It was done. The realisation gave me a solid thump in the chest.
I poked at the dial button and waited.
‘Sasha? It’s Eleanor Manning.’
‘Hey, Ellie,’ she began. ‘I’m really glad you returned my call. I have some news for you.’
‘Hopefully good news?’ My stomach did a handstand and the hokey-pokey with my lunch.
I was glad today had been so busy. It meant less space in my brain to think about other things. Namely, divorce things. I couldn’t believe it had been a month already since the papers had been delivered. Where had that time gone?
‘In the scheme of things, yes. Everything is final,’ she continued. ‘You’re officially a single lady, so you can crank out the Beyoncé on the way home. Unfortunately, I couldn’t secure the piano.’
‘That’s fine.’ I thought I’d be upset but, more than anything, I felt relief. I wouldn’t have to organise a moving van or turn up on the doorstep and have to have that awkward conversation. The best option was to let sleeping dogs lie, and he had enough fleas for the entire city of Melbourne. I hoped the bites itched.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I am really sorry.’
‘I am completely fine,’ I said. ‘It’s for the best anyway, I think.’
‘I agree.’ She was so upbeat that it was hard to be annoyed. If irritation lay anywhere, it was at getting myself in this situation to begin with. ‘Unless there’s anything else I can do for you, I’ll forward my bill to you in the next seven days.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ I said quietly. ‘Thank you so much.’
I took a few moments to gather my thoughts, but there was so much going on that I couldn’t quite work them out. My eyes watered briefly, but I’d already decided that crying wasn’t going to be what this afternoon was about. When my phone beeped with a message from Penny, I locked my cash tin away, closed my office behind me, and headed outside to watch some football.
* * *
Dust trailed behind my chair as I dragged it closer to the group. The famed picnic had been set up across the newspaper-covered surface of two card tables. A bag of crisps was scattered about, the dip had been blessed by a broken cracker, and Jemima had a drinking hat on – complete with two cans of lemonade. I placed my cake offering on the edge of the table.
Penny leaned across to me. ‘Ellie, are you okay?’
‘Well,’ I considered with an exasperated puff, ‘I just met Patrick.’
Her face lit up, eyes wide and smile wider. ‘Did you love him?’
I grimaced. ‘Not sold yet, though I did appreciate the visuals.’
‘Oh, Ellie!’ Emma squawked over the top of the burgeoning crowd. ‘I was going to come see you about ordering a book or two from the fair.’
The last of my toffee and its stringy sugar made it look like Spiderman had taken up residence inside my mouth. I pulled webby threads away and leaned back in her direction. ‘Can you please email me about it? I don’t mean to be rude. I’ll put it through on Monday with the rest of the orders, I’m just worried I’ll forget over the —’
‘Yes, yes, okay.’ Emma suddenly bounced in her chair. ‘Well, hello over there.’
A ragtag bunch of teachers, male and female, emerged not from the concrete runs of a well-prepped clubroom, but from the stuffy confines of a poorly ventilated demountable. With no communal uniform to be spoken of, they were a colourful display of individuality. T-shirt designs ranged from Metallica to Ed Sheeran, the sporty Nike and Reebok, and everything in between.
‘You know, I feel like this must be how the Very Hungry Caterpillar feels at an all you can eat buffet.’ Penny clapped her hands excitedly.
‘You what?’ I laughed.
‘I mean, just look … there’s so many bodies, but only so many eyes,’ she explained.
Trailing behind the back of the pack, already deep in discussion and with the loudest cheers awaiting them were Marcus and Patrick.
Boys in football gear were enough to stop traffic on a regular day, but these two, in their local team colours of royal blue and honey yellow, and shorts so tight I doubted both of their reproductive abilities, were enough to spring their female audience forward into mid-summer temperatures. Despite our differences, I wasn’t exactly offended by the sight either.
‘Do you remember that time I came to stay with you in Melbourne? Way before you were married, and we went to that football match?’ Penny watched the crowd of tired-looking teachers walk past.
‘When we ended up in a locker room full of towelled men?’ I asked. ‘Very much so. We lied about your age, and then you disappeared with the ruckman.’
‘Yeah, well, with the exception of these two squires, this is not like that time at all.’
I coughed, almost choking on what was left of my toffee. ‘Also, nice to see some girls playing.’
‘This is not an untruth.’ She sipped from her can. ‘I mean, Kevin’s knees are starting to resemble Thanksgiving turkeys, so we need the girls to come in and take over.’
I bit my lip and looked at her.
To be fair, Kevin had been our physical education teacher back when we were at school, so age was only naturally starting to catch up with him. Emma laughed so hard she fell backwards and landed on the dusty earth below. When none of us got up to help her, she stayed there, still cackling.
I looked at Penny. ‘If you do actually have some alcohol, now would be a great time to share.’
When she produced a water bottle from her bag, I could have kissed her. Or, maybe, I should’ve been horrified. Should I have been? It was Friday afternoon, I thought. I’ve had a rough day. Bite me.
‘Exactly what is happening here?’ Marcus placed a warm hand on my shoulder, a lone finger brushing at the soft space under my ear – the same spot he’d worked out was a favourite in the dead of night. In the light of day, it felt far too intimate and public, even if it meant nothing to anyone around us and, maybe, it meant nothing to him. I replayed my This Will Never Work mantra like a Hail Mary, doused myself in holy water of the vodka, and tried to think of something else other than the crotch hovering far too close to my face.
‘We are ladies being ladies, lunching like ladies.’ Penny did her best Sharon Stone and batted her eyelids at him. ‘And boys, and boys. There are some boys here, too. A luncheon of the people.’
‘Yeah, I’ve seen movies that start like that,’ Marcus teased. ‘Except, you look like the movie poster for Up! and I do mean that in the nicest, happiest, most colourful kind of way.’
I groaned and bit down on a cracker, hoping food would stifle a laugh. It didn’t. He wasn’t wrong. I thrust my can of tainted soda towards him. ‘We’re having a picnic.’
‘You think this is a picnic?’ His mouth pinched as he took a sip. His chin dipped into his chest as he offered me a cheeky smile. ‘Sweetheart, you have no idea.’
My cheeks burned the colour of a thousand suns as he jogged off onto the field, knee and shoulder wrapped in medicine tape.
‘Sweetheart?’ Penny questioned.
I
shrugged and, for once, hoped I looked completely daft.
In opposition on the football field, a team so put together and uniformed that it hardly felt like a friendly game at all. Their uniforms were complete and, while our team wandered about like lost ducks, they passed the ball about in drills. Nevertheless, for a gold coin donation, it had brought the locals out in droves. The closer we got to the starting whistle, the less empty space there was around the boundary line, and the more picnic blankets popped up.
With a shrill whistle, and the tiniest bit of silence, feet shuffled and scuffled, dust clouded around feet, the crowd cheered, and the game was underway.
Even with our two minor celebrities, our team was tanking. In fact, they were being slaughtered in a Gerard Butler Roman Empire movie type of way. By the end of the third quarter, and after a half-time performance from the opposition’s school band, I gladly volunteered to help clear away the last of the carnival stalls. Everything but the sausage sizzle was closed, and anything had to be better than watching a losing game.
Leftover plants, books and bric-a-brac were packed away in the back of family wagons, though the cake stall remnants were distributed amongstst the few of us not glued to the football. I took my fresh stash of toffees and cupcakes to the library and vowed I’d get at least some of today’s paperwork done before going home. Eventually, I gave up trying to think. When someone passed my office, I glanced up and, when a shadow hit my periphery, I jumped in fright.
‘Not only did you not bring the pom-poms and short skirt, you’d disappeared by third quarter.’ Marcus stood in the doorway, pout and split eyebrow on display.
‘You saw that?’ I threw him a quick look over my shoulder.
‘Of course I saw that,’ he sulked.
‘I was helping pack up,’ I explained. My mouth dried a little, and I couldn’t work out if it was the vodka, or the fact I’d been missed. ‘Then, I thought I’d come in here to do some work, but it’s Friday and I can’t be bothered.’
Lessons in Love Page 11
