by Miranda Lee
Five hours later, she was still brooding over Cory’s cheekiness. And simmering with jealousy over his affection for his grandmother.
He didn’t seem to care that his grandmother was the messiest woman on the planet. Always had been. Not only was Jill Chapman allergic to cleaning, but she couldn’t cook to save her soul either. Lisa had grown up eating baked beans on toast for dinner most nights. Her mother’s only talent was as a potter, and even then she didn’t make much money at her craft.
‘Mum,’ Cory said in a wheedling tone, ‘can I stay up and watch a movie with you tonight?’
Lisa glanced up from where she was stacking the dishwasher. Cory was a few feet away in the family room, watching TV.
‘I don’t think so, Cory. You’ve had a long week at school and I don’t want you all tired and grumpy tomorrow. Off to bed now. It’s eight-thirty.’
‘Oh, Mum,please .’
‘Not this time,’ she said firmly.
‘You never let me do anything,’ he grumbled.
‘You can stay up extra late tomorrow night. We’ll go to the video shop after I finish my shopping and get you whatever movie you like. Provided it’s not too violent.’
His blue eyes lit up. ‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Cool!’
Lisa smiled at her son’s obvious delight. And his obeying her orders to go to bed without any further fuss. When she went upstairs five minutes later, his handsome little face was still beaming with happiness.
‘Goodnight and God bless,’ she murmured as she ruffled his soft blond hair, then bent to kiss him. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you, too, Mum,’ he said, making her heart squeeze tight.
Lisa supposed there were some rewards in being a mother. But it was hard, not having a partner to help with the parenting.
Not that Greg had been a firm father. He’d been way too soft with Cory. Way too soft with her as well. He’d let her run the show. And whilst Lisa liked being the boss of the household, there had been times when she’d wished Greg had taken the reins. In hindsight, he’d been a nice, but weak man. He should not have put up with her denying him sex…
When those old feelings of guilt threatened, Lisa pulled herself up sharply. The past was the past. No point in becoming maudlin over it.
As she always did when she started worrying about things, Lisa worked, mopping the kitchen floor and hanging out the washing which she’d put in the machine earlier. After that she went upstairs to the third bedroom, where she kept her iron and ironing board.
A lot of women hated ironing. But Lisa found it quite therapeutic. She ironed everything, enjoying seeing the neat piles of freshly pressed things set out on the spare bed. She was tackling Cory’s school shirts when the phone rang in her office, just across the hall. Knowing that the answering machine would pick up, she kept on ironing, keeping one ear open to see who it was. The office door was ajar and she could hear quite clearly. Her recorded voice came on first, asking the caller to leave a message after the beep.
When she heard Jack’s deep male voice come on to the line, she almost dropped the iron.
‘Jack Cassidy here, Lisa. Unfortunately, it seems I only have your business number. Hopefully, you’re home and check your messages on a regular basis. If so, please call me back some time tonight. You have my number. If I don’t hear from you by morning, I’ll have to ring Gail and find out your home or mobile number. I’m sure she’ll have it. If you don’t want me to do this—and I suspect you might not—then ring me. ASAP.’
After Jack had hung up, Lisa remained standing right where she was for several seconds, still gripping the iron mid-air. Her head had gone into a total whirl with his message, her heart racing like mad.
Eventually, she lowered the iron back onto its cradle, then sat down on the side of the bed whilst she assembled her scattered thoughts.
Somehow, she didn’t think Jack wanted her to call him to organise another cleaner to do his study. If he had, he would have simply said so.
He was going to ask her out again. She was sure of it!
Lisa could not understand why. A man like him could have his pick of women. Why pursue her?
‘Because you said no to him,’ she muttered out loud.
Lisa could think of no other reason.
Under any other circumstances, she would have ignored his call. Lisa didn’t like bully boys. But his threat to ring Gail in the morning was a worry. He was right. She wouldn’t like that. Gail would jump to all the wrong conclusions and start gossiping about her and Jack.
She had no alternative but to ring the infernal man. But she intended to put him in his place. And tell him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t appreciate being harassed, or threatened.
The thought of having a confrontation with him made her stomach churn. But it had to be done. And the sooner the better.
Steeling herself, Lisa stood up and marched across the hallway into her office. The piece of paper with Jack’s number on it was still in the top drawer of her desk, Lisa’s hand trembling slightly as she snatched up the phone.
He answered on the second ring, suggesting that he had been waiting for her call.
‘I’m so glad you rang,’ he said straight away in such a pleased voice that she felt some of her resentment drain away.
But her voice was still sharp.
‘What is it that you want, Jack?’
You, Jack was tempted to reply. But didn’t.
‘I wanted to give you the chance to change your mind about tomorrow night,’ came his diplomatic but still truthful reply.
He heard her sigh down the line. Unfortunately, it didn’t sound like a sigh of pleasure. Or surrender. ‘I won’t change my mind, Jack.’
‘Wait till you hear what I have to say.’
‘Very well.’
‘How long has it been since you’ve been taken out to dinner?’
Another exasperated sigh. ‘I told you. I don’t date.’
‘How long, Lisa?’
‘Over five years, I guess.’
‘And how long since you’ve had a night out in Sydney?’
‘About the same.’
Just as he had thought. She had to be one of the loneliest girls in the world. And ripe and ready for some male attention.
‘What if we don’t call tomorrow night a date? Would that help? What if you think of it as a favour to a business client?’
‘A favour?’
‘A big favour. You’ve no idea what it’s like going to these dos alone, Lisa. Which is what I’ll have to do if you don’t come with me.’
‘Why would you have to go alone? There must be scads of women of your acquaintance who’d be only too happy to go with you.’
‘Believe it or not, I’m not that social a guy. Or I haven’t been, since buying this place a couple months back. I’ve had my nose to the grindstone for weeks, finishing that damned book. Hardly been outside the door, except for the occasional surf, or shop. Trust me when I say there’s no one I could ask.’
‘I find it hard to believe you don’t have a little black book with loads of phone numbers in it.’
He did, actually. But he didn’t want to ring any of them. All of the women in that book paled in comparison to the very lovely, very intriguing and very challenging Chapman.
‘I think you’re mixing me up with Hal,’ Jack said. ‘He’s the one with the little black book.’
‘Oh.’
‘People do that a lot. Confuse me with Hal. Which is another reason why I want you to come with me tomorrow night. I get besieged by female fans at these awards dinners. He’s a very popular guy, old Hal. Now, if I have a beautiful blonde on my arm, I just might survive the night in one piece. They’ll take one look at you and know they don’t have a hope in Hades of getting my personal attention.’
‘I don’t know, Jack…’
A rush of adrenalin charged through his blood. She was wavering.
‘I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman all ev
ening. You won’t have to fight me off at the door.’
No answer.
‘Think of the five-star food,’ he went on seductively. ‘And the five-star wine. Not to mention the five-star surroundings. This restaurant is top drawer, and right on the harbour, overlooking the bridge and the opera house.’
Her sigh this time sounded much closer to a sigh of surrender.
‘You do know how to tempt a girl…’
‘You’d be crazy not to come. I’ll pick you up and deliver you home to your door. Minus the grope-fest.’
She actually laughed.
‘It’ll be a truly fun evening. How long is it, Lisa, since you’ve had fun?’
‘Too long, my mother would say.’
‘Your mother sounds like a wise woman. You should listen to her.’
‘My mother wants me to get married again,’ Lisa said drily.
‘Mothers are like that.’
‘Does your mother get on your back to get married, Jack?’
‘My mother’s dead,’ came his rather curt reply.
‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I mean…you’re not that old.’
‘Both my parents were killed in a car accident when I was fifteen.’
‘Oh, how tragic.’
‘It was. The truck driver who killed them was unlicenced, driving an unsafe, unregistered vehicle. He got a miserable twelve months for murder.’
‘Jack, that’s appalling! You wonder what these judges are thinking of, giving light sentences like that.’
‘Yeah, but it doesn’t really hit home till it happens to you. Injustice is just a word till you experience it for yourself.’
‘I suppose so,’ Lisa murmured, thinking how dreadful to lose both one’s parents like that. Her parents had been divorced, but it had been an amicable enough parting. Her perfectionist father hadn’t been able to stand her mother’s sloppy ways, and had bolted as soon as he found someone more to his liking.
He’d never come back.
Lisa might have resented his defection more if she’d been able to remember him. Or if she hadn’t understood full well why he’d left. She’d left home, too, as soon as she could.
‘I think we’re getting too serious here,’ Jack said. ‘Back to tomorrow night. I presume you don’t want to tell your mother you’re going out with me.’
‘If she found out I was going out anywhere with any man, she’d nag me to death. If she finds out I’m going to a fancy awards dinner with the famous Nick Freeman, I’d never hear the end of it.’
‘She’s a fan of Nick Freeman’s?’
‘Unfortunately. I introduced you to her a couple of months back.’
‘Then don’t tell her. It’s not as though this dinner is going to be on TV, or anything like that. The only media coverage it’ll get is in theAustralian Writers Monthly . And who reads that, except the literati? I certainly don’t.’
‘You’re very persuasive.’
‘Is that a yes?’
‘Yes. But…’
‘No buts, Lisa. You’re coming and that’s that.’
‘I was just going to say that I’ll have to tell my mother I’m going somewhere with someone. She’s the one who’ll be minding Cory. I won’t leave him with anyone else.’
‘You’re a woman. You’ll think of something.’
‘I don’t have your imagination.’
Jack didn’t think he had that great an imagination. Lots of things which happened in his books were things which had really happened. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.
‘Always stick as close to the truth as possible when you’re being sneaky,’ Jack suggested, thinking to himself that he had been doing just that. ‘Why not say that a girlfriend of yours has been given two free tickets to the awards dinner and wants you to go with her? That way you can talk freely about your night out and not have to make anything up.’
‘That’s brilliant, Jack!’
‘Iam brilliant.’
‘And so modest.’
‘That, too.’
‘But are you a man of your word?’
‘Do you doubt it?’
‘Hal’s not always a man of his word.’
‘I’m not Hal.’
‘I’m not so sure. Your books are told in the first person.’
‘That’s just a tool to create immediate empathy with the reader. And a more intense emotional involvement with Hal’s character.’
‘You succeeded very well.’
‘Thanks. Now, let’s get off Hal for a moment. At the risk of offending you again, are you set, clothes-wise, for tomorrow night? It’s black tie.’
‘Do I have to wear a long evening dress?’
‘Not necessarily. A cocktail or party dress will do fine.’
‘I’ll buy something tomorrow. I was going Christmas shopping, anyway.’
‘Christmas shopping! But it’s only October.’
‘I don’t like to leave present-shopping till the last minute,’ came her prim reply. ‘The pre-summer sales are on at Tuggerah tomorrow.’
‘Where the hell is Tuggerah?’
‘You don’t know the coast too well, do you?’
‘I know the Erina shopping centre. Why don’t you go there? I could meet you and we could have coffee. Or lunch?’
‘I don’t think so, Jack. Don’t forget, I’m only going with you tomorrow night as a favour. It is not a real date. It’s a one-off. There won’t be any encores. Or prequels. Take it or leave it, Jack.’
‘I’ll take it,’ he said, and smiled to himself.
You can pretend to yourself all you like, sweetheart. But tomorrow night is not going to be any one-off. You like me. I can tell. Tomorrow night is just the beginning.
‘I’ll pick you up at six,’ he added. ‘That will give us plenty of time to get down to Sydney. Now, where do you live? Give me your address and some directions so that I don’t get lost. And your mobile number, in case I need to contact you tomorrow and you’re not home.’
‘Why would you need to contact me?’
‘The world’s an unpredictable place, Lisa. I like to be prepared.’
‘That’s what Hal always says.’
‘Does he? Well, I suppose I do have some things in common with my main man.’
Like his womanising ways, Lisa thought, suddenly concerned over her decision to go out with Jack.
What on earth had she been thinking when she let him change her mind?
She’d rung him up to put him in his place and ended up agreeing to be his pretend girlfriend for the night, letting him persuade her with the promise of adult company, great food and the fantasy of actually having some fun.
But what fun would it be if she was on tenterhooks all night, worried about fighting him off at the front door?
‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’
Lisa rolled her eyes. What was he, a mind-reader?
‘Not at all,’ she replied crisply. If he did try something when he brought her home, she’d be ready for him. He wouldn’t get so much as atoe in her front door.
‘How about your address and phone number, then? I have pen and paper at the ready.’
She gave him both, plus good directions. It was perfectly clear, however, that he hadn’t been far afield from Terrigal, since he’d never heard of Tumbi Umbi Road
.
‘There’s a Central Coast map in the local phone directory,’ she said. ‘Study it up.’
‘I’ll do that. And thanks, Lisa. I really appreciate your coming with me. You’re a good sport.’
A good sport. Was that what playboys called foolish females these days?
‘Bye for now,’ he said breezily. ‘See you tomorrow night.’
Tomorrow night…
Just the thought made her feel sick.
Oh, Lisa, Lisa, what have you done?
CHAPTER SIX
LISA’Schest tightened as it always did when she pulled into the driveway of her mother’s place. Not so much these days bec
ause the ramshackle farmhouse would be a mess. But because her mother always seemed to say something to get her hackles up.
Lisa could hear implied criticism in even the most innocent of her mother’s comments. As soon as she pulled up on the weed-filled patch of lawn which masqueraded as a front garden, Cory was out of the car like a shot, running up onto the veranda and giving his emerging grandma a big hug before dashing off to play on the tyre which swung from a nearby tree.
