by Paige Toon
‘Let me get this.’ Ben reaches for his wallet, but I wave him away, slapping down some money. I follow him out of the venue.
‘It’s only a ten-minute walk,’ Ben says. ‘Do you want to catch a taxi?’
‘No, no, I’m happy to walk.’
He sets off at a brisk pace, but I can easily keep up in my trainers. His hands are plunged deep into his pockets. I fold my arms across my chest.
‘Are you sure you’re not cold?’ he checks again.
‘I’m fine,’ I assure him. A memory comes back to me and I can’t help but giggle. ‘Don’t give me your shirt, you’ll never get it back.’
He laughs out loud. ‘I know, you little thief. That was one of my favourites, as well.’
‘Was it? I’m sorry.’
He grins and nudges me. ‘If it was anyone else . . .’
I blush unexpectedly at his tone. ‘You can have it back now, if you like.’
‘Have you still got it?’ He regards me with interest.
‘It’s at my mum’s.’
‘No,’ he decides. ‘It wouldn’t fit me now, anyway.’ He indicates his chest. It’s definitely broader than it used to be. ‘How is your mum?’ he asks.
‘She’s fine. You know we left Michael and Josh after Michael proposed to her?’
‘I did hear something about that, yes.’
A pang goes through me. He knew about it? Wasn’t he worried about me?
‘Did you stay in contact with Michael?’ I ask quietly.
‘Not really,’ he says. ‘I’d only hear things through the grapevine. I tried not to ask.’
‘Why?’
He shrugs and stares straight ahead. ‘Fresh start,’ he says bluntly. Then: ‘Here we are, now.’
We come to a stop outside a tiny restaurant with red and white checked curtains at the windows. I peer inside and see candles lighting the tables. Cosy. Ben opens the door for me and I walk through.
‘Benjamin!’ A flamboyant middle-aged Italian man bustles towards us.
‘Hello, Marco,’ Ben says affectionately.
‘So long since I have seen you!’
Ben shrugs. ‘Sorry.’
‘And now you have a new lady friend, no?’ He glances at me.
New? I take it we’re not talking about his ex-wife, here.
‘An old friend,’ Ben corrects him. ‘Lily, this is Marco.’
‘Hello,’ I say, wondering about the existence of other women in Ben’s life.
‘Come, come.’ Marco urges us towards a table at the back. ‘No window,’ he says regretfully. ‘You should have booked.’ He glares theatrically at Ben, who just shrugs.
‘This is fine.’
‘I bring you some menus. To drink?’
‘Lily?’
‘I might switch to red,’ I say to Ben. ‘A glass of house red, please.’
‘A Peroni,’ Ben answers, before turning to me.
‘This is nice,’ I say, looking around. ‘Do you come here much?’
‘Not really.’
I force a smile which I hope appears cheeky and unbothered. ‘So what’s this about your lady friends? You bring a lot of girls here?’
He looks down. ‘No one special. Not for a long time.’
Relief floods my veins. A waitress returns with our drinks and a couple of menus. We turn our attention to food.
‘Tell me what happened after I left,’ Ben says when we’ve placed our order.
I was heartbroken. I was like the walking dead.
‘I went to school. Made some new friends.’
‘I told you you would.’
‘So you did.’ I manage a weak smile. ‘Did you know Michael got married to The Map Bearer?’
‘The what?’ He looks confused.
I giggle. ‘Janine. It’s a nickname I gave her on my first day at the conservation park.’
He chuckles. ‘Yes, I did know that. I go back to Adelaide occasionally to check in on Nan’s house.’
‘Who lives there now?’ I ask curiously.
‘It’s being rented to friends of friends,’ he explains. Aha! ‘A family is in it at the moment.’
‘Would you ever go back to Adelaide permanently?’ I ask.
‘Oh, I’ll definitely end up there eventually. It’s home.’
In a funny kind of way, it still feels like my home, too.
‘What about you?’ he asks. ‘Would you ever move back?’
‘I have some good friends there, but no, I don’t think so. Mum’s here, and I have other . . . friends here. And my career, you know?’
‘Tell me about your job.’
‘I’m only temping.’
‘I know, you said that before. You’re a receptionist?’
‘Yes.’ I feel small all of a sudden. ‘It’s good fun,’ I say weakly.
‘Cool.’
‘I feel like I’ve let you down,’ I blurt out.
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘You expected so much from me.’
‘Lily! I haven’t been around for the last decade – how can you possibly feel like you’ve let me down?’
‘I just do.’
‘Well, you haven’t. I only ever wanted you to be happy.’
His eyes meet mine over the table and this time I can’t look away. My head starts to prickle again and the room begins to spin. A waitress interrupts us with our mains.
‘Thank you.’ I lean back as she places a bowl of ravioli with sage butter in front of me. Ben has opted for a pepper steak.
‘Tell me what happened after you left,’ I find the courage to ask.
He glances up at me, then returns his attention to his food. ‘I went to England and got married.’
‘No kids?’ How can I have not asked this already?
‘No.’
I can breathe again.
‘Charlotte couldn’t,’ he adds, and my heart plummets. So if they had been successful in that area, they never would have got divorced. ‘But that’s not why we broke up,’ he continues.
‘Why, then?’ I’m relieved, but still I persist.
‘Things weren’t right. They were never right,’ he adds.
‘So why did you start trying for a family?’
‘It’s a good question.’ He smiles wryly. ‘I wanted it to be right. I wanted to forge—’ He cuts himself short mid-sentence. ‘I was homesick, too.’
‘You didn’t like England?’
‘I liked it, but I was homesick.’
That, I can understand. ‘Did you have many friends?’ I ask, remembering how that saved me once I started school.
‘Of course, but they were mostly Charlotte’s friends. I met a couple of decent guys through work, but one of them moved out to the country and the other had a family so he wasn’t much up for socialising.’
‘Where did you live? You worked at London Zoo, right?’
‘London Zoo, yep, and we lived in North London in a suburb called Crouch End,’ he replies. ‘Do you know it?’
‘I’ve heard of it, but have never been there. I was more of an East London girl.’
‘You’ve never thought about going back to the UK?’ he asks.
‘No.’ I don’t add, ‘Because you ruined it for me.’
‘So your sisters and your dad are over here at the moment?’
‘And Lorraine.’
‘Of course.’ He smiles knowingly. ‘What did she have in the end?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Girl or boy?’
‘Oh! A girl. Isabel,’ I tell him, smiling. ‘She’s a character. They all are.’
‘Do you go back to England often to visit them?’
‘No. Dad tries to bring the family over here every couple of years. It’s good. It means I don’t miss seeing my sisters grow up. Although saying that, Kay is frightening me!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s fifteen now. Like a little adult. It’s a bit scary.’
He nods. ‘And what about your mum? What’s she u
p to these days?’
‘She’s okay. She lives in Bondi, works as a restaurant manager. Where do you live?’
‘Cremorne, in North Sydney.’
‘I know it.’ In fact, it’s not that far from Manly . . .
‘Where do you live now?’ he asks. I tell him. ‘Nice,’ he comments.
‘I like it.’ I pick at my ravioli.
‘Not hungry?’ he asks.
‘Not as much as I thought.’ I glance across the table, but he’s had no problem tucking into his food – as was always the case. I smile to myself.
‘What’s it like, working at the zoo?’ I ask.
‘It’s a zoo,’ he says flippantly.
I lean back in my chair and stare at him. ‘And London Zoo?’
He shrugs. ‘Another zoo.’
‘You prefer conservation parks?’
‘You know I do.’
‘I know you do?’
‘“Zoos aren’t real enough” for you, I think is how you described it.’
‘You remember that?’
He seems to remember as many conversations as I do. He doesn’t answer me. We’re still staring across the table at each other. His eyes are even darker blue in this candlelight. My gaze wanders to his lips. Big mistake. I move on to his jaw and then his shoulders, followed by his arms. His T-shirt is tight enough that I can see the definition of his muscles. I blush and look away.
He’s reduced me to a teenager again. I want him. I want him as much as I ever did. I shiver and lean forward, trying to focus on eating something. But my eyes are drawn to his lips and I want him to kiss me so much that it hurts.
Richard . . .
‘How is everything?’ Marco breaks the spell.
‘Good, thanks.’
‘You are not eating, signora?’ He gawps at my almost-full dish in horror.
‘I’m not that hungry,’ I apologise.
‘I get you something else?’
‘No, no, this is lovely, really. I’m just not that hungry.’
‘The steak was perfect, Marco.’ Ben thankfully distracts him.
‘Ah, I so pleased. You like another drink?’
‘Sure.’ Ben holds up his glass. There’s only a little beer swilling around. Marco turns to me.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ My glass is still half-full.
‘Do you ever see Josh?’ Ben asks.
‘Actually, yes. I had to go back to Adelaide for a funeral a couple of weeks ago. My friend’s dad,’ I explain. ‘And Josh also came over to visit at Easter.’
‘Did he?’ He gives me a look.
‘He’s a good mate,’ I add, to clarify the situation. ‘He’s got a girlfriend, now. Tina.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘He stopped drinking and driving.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. We had a massive barney about it.’ I recall that night in Josh’s car. ‘I never got a chance to tell you.’
‘What about you? Did you pass your driving test in the end?’
‘First time.’
‘Thought you might.’
Neither of us is referring to that night at Mount Lofty. I can’t imagine how we could ever bring it up. It was such a strange, illicit situation – an almost-thirty-year-old falling for a sixteen-year-old girl. It would be like Josh falling for Kay! I put that thought out of my head.
‘I never went back to the conservation park after you left,’ I tell him.
‘I know.’
‘You know?’ I glance up at him, surprised.
‘Dave told me. I was sorry to hear it.’
I say nothing.
‘You were so good with the koalas. It takes a certain sort of person to be able to deal with them. Not everyone has the right temperament.’
Janine had said the same thing. ‘I missed it,’ I admit sadly. ‘I cried and cried when I heard they’d relocated Olivia to another conservation park and I never got to say goodbye.’
He nods sympathetically. ‘It’s tough when that happens.’
‘I know it’s part of the job . . .’
‘. . . but that doesn’t make it any easier.’ He leans back in his chair and regards me. ‘I am sad you gave up on photography. I really thought you had something.’
I shift in my seat. ‘It’s hard to get into that line of work.’
‘That’s not an excuse if you’re still passionate about it. Are you?’
I meet his gaze. ‘Maybe.’ Pause. ‘I actually went to a photography exhibition not that long ago.’
‘Did you?’
‘The guy was an arsehole.’
Ben chuckles.
‘It’s so odd to bump into you now, because I did get my camera back from Mum’s recently. I have started taking pictures again.’
‘Really?’ He sits up with interest. ‘Can I see them sometime?’
I smile. ‘Sure. If they’re not too horrendous. I haven’t got any developed yet.’
‘Are you still using film?’
‘Yes. I know, digital cameras have improved like you said they would, but I’ve only just got back into it all.’
Ben grins and the waitress appears with some menus.
‘Do you want dessert?’ he asks me.
‘No, I couldn’t eat another thing.’
‘Just the bill, thanks,’ he tells the waitress. We fall silent. ‘It’s good to see you again,’ he says after a while.
I look up at him. ‘You, too.’
‘Are you very busy while your family are here?’
‘I can get away. Monday’s your day off, right?’
‘Yeah. You still want to catch up for lunch or something?’
‘That’d be good.’
The bill arrives and Ben reaches into his pocket for his wallet while I take my purse from my handbag.
‘I’ll get this,’ he tells me.
‘We’ll go halves.’
‘Lily, put it away,’ he says firmly.
I hesitate. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ He looks offended so I comply.
‘Thanks.’
Marco sees us out. ‘Come again, please!’
‘We will,’ Ben tells him.
We? A bubble of happiness swells up inside me.
Richard!
‘Ferry back to Manly?’ Ben checks.
‘Yes. Do you go to Old Cremorne?’
‘Cremorne Point.’ That means we have to take separate ferries. ‘We can walk together to the terminal.’
He sets off at a brisk pace and once more I hurry to keep up.
‘Sorry, am I walking too fast?’ He glances at me.
‘No, it’s okay. I’ve got my trainers on for a change.’
‘You still call them trainers.’
‘Sneakers, then,’ I smirk. ‘I’m pretty nifty in my heels, too. I don’t usually look like this,’ I add.
He gives me a quick once-over. ‘What do you usually look like?’
‘Skirts, heels, make-up . . .’
‘You are wearing make-up,’ he comments.
‘I usually wear more.’ It strikes me that maybe he wishes I looked the same as I did ten years ago. He told me I looked different when we saw each other at the zoo. Is that a good thing?
‘I cut off all my hair,’ I blurt out. Dur! No shit, Sherlock.
He smiles at me. ‘I noticed.’
‘Do you like it?’ Shut up, you moron!
‘Yeah.’ He shrugs. ‘I liked it long, too.’
Don’t say anything else, I warn myself. Then: ‘Did you prefer it longer?’ Argh!
He glances at me sideways. ‘You look as lovely as you ever did.’
My heart flips and my face heats up. And with that I’m rendered speechless. We arrive at the terminal and he looks up at the timetable. ‘Quick, there’s one leaving for Manly in three minutes!’
He rushes me to the barriers. Wait! This is all happening too fast.
‘I don’t have to catch this one,’ I cry. I stare at him, panicked, and he freezes for a m
oment.
‘Want me to come for the ride?’ he asks.
‘Yes!’
We rush to the ticket booth and board the green-and-white ferry seconds before they raise the planks. He follows me to the back of the boat and we stand there in silence, side by side, as Circular Quay and the Opera House grow smaller in the distance. Finally I can breathe again. He’s still here. He’s resting his elbows on the railings and I let go with my hands and do the same. Our arms knock together, but neither of us moves. I can feel the warmth of him radiating through my jumper. We should really go inside like everyone else around us, but my feet are stuck to the spot. Finally it’s just Ben and me standing there in the wind.
‘I want to ask you if you’re cold,’ he says, ‘but it’s at the risk of sounding boring.’
‘I like it out here.’
He gestures at the empty bench behind us. ‘It’ll be more sheltered against the wall.’
‘Okay.’ I take a seat next to him. Instinctively he wraps his arm around me and rests his chin on the top of my head. I put my hand on his chest and snuggle up against him. It feels very comfortable, very natural.
The journey passes by quickly, even though neither of us speaks the rest of way. All too soon the ferry begins to slow. Ben relaxes his grip on me and I pull away and look up at him. Our eyes lock together. He’s so close I could move my face two inches and my lips would be touching his.
A burst of laughter jolts me to my senses. A group of girls and guys in their twenties storm the railings, and shock slams into me as I recognise one of the girls. She’s a friend of Nathan’s. I quickly get to my feet as the ferry churns up a storm in the water. We’re pulling into the terminal and the tipsy revellers start to make their way to the side of the boat. Ben stays seated.
‘I’d better go,’ I say shiftily. ‘Are you going straight back to Circular Quay?’ He nods. ‘Sorry, what a trek.’ He’ll have to catch another ferry back to Cremorne Point.
‘It’s fine,’ he brushes me off.
‘I’ll see you Monday?’
‘Sure,’ he replies. ‘You want to give me a call and we’ll make plans?’
‘Yes, okay.’ I back away from him, meeting his eyes for a final fleeting moment. I’m unable to read his expression. ‘Bye,’ I mutter. And then I turn and hurry off the boat.
What the fuck am I doing? That was one of Nathan’s friends! Anyone could have seen me! Who else was on this ferry that I know?
