‘Isn’t that what the commitment part’s about?’
‘Yeah, and men are so good at that, aren’t they?’
He started to protest but she interrupted. ‘Look, I’m not blaming men, it’s women who perpetuate the nonsense. They’re blinded by the whole wedding fantasy, they get dressed up like a princess for a day and they truly believe they’ll live happily ever after. All they’re doing is setting themselves up for pain and disappointment.’
The lights turned green and she stepped off the kerb and walked across the street. Joe gazed after her. How had Angie put it? Wounded. She was wounded all right. He roused himself, catching up to her with a few long strides.
‘So are you saying there can’t be any pain or disappointment with a married man?’
‘Not if you go about it the right way,’ she said plainly. ‘Lachlan and I are two consenting adults who have a very clear understanding of what we’re doing. I don’t have any expectations of him beyond that, nor he of me.’
He looked a little stunned by her honesty. Well, he’d asked for it.
‘But what about his family?’
‘What about them?’
‘That’s a little callous, Jo.’
She bristled. ‘Oh, is this you not judging me?’
‘I just want to know if you think about the impact this has on his family?’
‘Of course I do,’ she declared. ‘Lachlan would never leave his wife and I’d never ask him to. I don’t even want him to. In the meantime she’s none the wiser. She has a wonderful lifestyle, a successful husband who isn’t constantly nagging her for sex she doesn’t want to have, and two beautiful kids. Everyone’s okay, everyone’s needs are being met.’
He was staring down at her in disbelief. ‘Please don’t tell me you genuinely believe that, Jo, you’re way too smart. Even if Lachlan’s family has no inkling of what’s going on, they’re being affected by this.’
‘You don’t know that,’ she said.
‘How can he give a hundred percent of himself to his wife when he’s involved with you? And that’s what it takes to make a marriage work. A hundred percent.’
Jo had no comeback, and suddenly she felt guilty. He was making her feel guilty, again. ‘What the hell makes you the expert on marriage all of a sudden?’ she snapped.
‘Don’t get angry –’
‘And why do you care so much?’ she went on. ‘You don’t know Lachlan’s family, this has nothing to do with you.’
‘I just wonder why you’re not giving yourself the chance to be happy,’ he said plainly.
Belle had said something like that. ‘I’m happy, what makes you think I’m not happy? You don’t even know me.’ They had arrived at her street, and Jo marched off briskly around the corner towards her building.
He caught up to her as she neared the entrance, grabbing her arm. ‘Don’t just walk away, Jo.’
‘I’m not, I’m going home.’ She tried to shrug off his hold, but he kept a firm grip.
‘You’re upset,’ he said.
‘I’m not upset.’
‘You are, and I’m sorry.’ He looked sincere. ‘The last thing I’d ever want to do is upset you . . . or hurt you, or disappoint you.’
He was gazing down at her, breathing hard. Jo was breathing hard too, excruciatingly aware of his hand on her arm, his thumb gently beginning to stroke . . .
‘I just think you’re better than this,’ he said.
Jo felt an ache in the back of her throat. This was too intense. ‘Yeah, well maybe I’m not. Maybe this is exactly who I am.’
‘Jo?’
They both swung around. Lachlan was walking towards them from across the street. Joe released her arm, taking a step away from her.
‘What’s going on?’ said Lachlan.
‘Nothing,’ Jo said lightly, attempting to recover her composure. ‘What are you doing here, Lachlan?’
‘I’ve been trying to call you all evening, but your phone’s been turned off,’ he said, glancing from her to Joe.
She fumbled in her bag. ‘That’s right, I had to turn it off, I’ve been at the theatre.’ She retrieved her phone and pretended to be very focused on turning it back on, while in reality she was just taking a moment to compose herself.
‘I hope I wasn’t interrupting something?’ said Lachlan, his voice laden with accusation.
‘You weren’t,’ said Joe. ‘I went to see my brother in a play, he’s an actor, and Angie and Jo turned up as well. When Angie decided to kick on, I offered to see Jo home. Well, walk with her anyway, we were both going in the same direction.’
Lachlan was listening, clearly dubious.
‘Thanks for that,’ said Jo. ‘I appreciate it.’ She glanced towards him, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I better keep going.’
‘Bannister,’ Lachlan nodded grimly.
‘Goodnight,’ said Jo.
‘Night.’ He turned up the street and disappeared around the corner.
‘What the hell, Lachlan?’ Jo said sharply. ‘Taken to spying on me now?’
‘I didn’t realise there was anything to spy on.’
‘There isn’t,’ she said tightly, walking past him to the entrance of her building.
‘Look,’ he said, coming after her, ‘I wasn’t spying on you. I told you I was trying to call, and then I decided to drop by on my way home. When you didn’t answer the intercom I was headed back to my car when I saw you coming around the corner, and Bannister manhandling you.’
‘For Chrissakes, Lachlan, he wasn’t manhandling me,’ she said, foraging for her keys in her bag.
‘Well what was he doing, grabbing your arm like that?’
‘Nothing,’ she dismissed. She fished out her keys, unlocked the door and walked through into the foyer, with Lachlan on her heels.
‘It didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.’
Jo pressed the button for the lift. Her brain was too addled to come up with an excuse. But then it occurred to her, she didn’t have to give Lachlan an excuse. She turned around to face him. ‘What happened to our agreement that I don’t owe you explanations about how I spend my time when I’m not with you?’
‘Come on, Jo, I was only worried . . . for your safety.’
‘Bullshit, Lachlan. Don’t be ridiculous, we were just mucking around, we were having some silly argument about the play.’
The doors of the elevator slid open and she stepped in, turning around. ‘So, are you here to fight or are you here to fuck? Because we can’t do both.’
Joe walked three, four blocks, so fast he was panting, and sweat had broken out in beads across his forehead. His mind was racing, retracing the conversation, kicking himself for every stupid, negative, judgemental thing he’d said. And more for what he hadn’t said. It could have ended so differently. He’d had an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her then, right at the end. It was so powerful, as though every molecule in his body was being magnetically drawn to her, and he had to physically stop himself from pulling her into his arms and slamming his lips down onto hers. And then Lachlan appeared out of the shadows, and Joe realised it couldn’t have ended any differently.
As he walked across Hyde Park he thought about what they were probably doing right now . . . his mind involuntarily forming a mental picture . . . and he walked even faster, and he sweated a little more, and finally he came to a bench and sat down to catch his breath. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
‘Fuck it,’ he muttered under his breath as he took his phone out of his pocket and flicked it open. He scrolled through the directory until he came to Carla Delacqua, pressing Call before he gave himself too much time to think about what he was doing.
Monday morning
‘I thought of Bannister while I was having sex with Lachlan.’
‘What was that?’ Angie asked loudly over the grinding of the food processor. It was Jo’s day off, but she had to debrief before her
head imploded. She and Lachlan had had pretty amazing sex the other night. Jo had tried to tell herself that it was because they hadn’t been together in weeks. But it wasn’t just that. And Lachlan knew it too. No sooner had he rolled off her and caught his breath than he started at her again, interrogating her about Bannister. Jo just lay there, growing more and more incensed. How the hell had things got to this? First she was justifying her relationship with Lachlan to Bannister, and then she was justifying her relationship with Bannister to Lachlan. She didn’t have to answer to either of them. She’d finally told Lachlan to get out. He’d left messages on her phone the next day, but she ignored them.
‘I said I thought of Bannister, you know, Joe Bannister, while I was having sex with Lachlan,’ Jo tried again, louder this time.
‘Oh,’ Angie shouted back, nodding, as though she got it at last.
Jo frowned. ‘Why, what did you think I said?’
‘I only caught something about a canister and Tex McLaughlin.’
‘What?’
‘I said –’
‘No, I mean, who’s Tex McLaughlin?’
‘I don’t know, I’ve never heard of him. That’s why I asked.’
Jo’s head was beginning to hurt.
‘Obviously I couldn’t hear you with the blender going,’ Angie added.
‘Maybe you should turn it off while we’re having a conversation.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said, maybe you should turn off the blender while we’re having a conversation!’ Jo was shouting now.
‘Oh,’ said Angie, turning the blender off. ‘I thought you said –’
‘Don’t worry, I don’t need to know,’ she said, becoming exasperated. ‘So did you hear what I said in the first place?’
‘No, I didn’t, I told you, because of the blender.’
Jo sighed. ‘But you know what I said now, don’t you?’
‘That you thought of Joe while you were having sex with Lachlan?’
‘That’s right.’
Angie smiled and nodded as she started to dismantle the food processor.
‘Well? Haven’t you got anything to say?’
‘You didn’t call out his name, did you?’ Angie asked her. ‘Not that Lachlan would notice I suppose, seeing as it’s your name too.’
Jo frowned. ‘I think Lachlan would notice if I started calling out my own name in the middle of having sex.’
‘That’s true.’
She watched Angie as she scraped green slime out of the food processor. It looked like pesto. Why did food lose its appeal when it was in catering quantities?
‘So that’s it?’ Jo prompted after a while. ‘That’s all you’re going to say?’
‘What do you want me to say?’
‘I don’t know. I was hoping to get more of a reaction. Help me make sense of it.’
‘Make sense of what?’
‘Have you been listening at all?’ She dropped onto a nearby stool. ‘Why would I think of Joe while I was having sex with Lachlan?’
Angie stopped to look at her. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Absolutely. I don’t fantasise, you know that, it’s not the way my brain works. I’ve never had to think of another man while I’m having sex.’ She paused. ‘And it’s not the first time either.’
Now Angie was confused. ‘But you just said it’s never happened before.’
‘No, I meant it’s not the first time I’ve thought about having sex with Bannister. It happened the night after we were trapped in the elevator, and then that night when both he and Lachlan showed up at my place, well, that turned into a threesome in my head. I don’t understand why it keeps happening.’
Angie was just staring at her, incredulous. ‘Hey, here’s a crazy idea – you don’t suppose you might be attracted to him?’
Jo pulled a face. ‘Okay, of course I’m somewhat attracted to him, but isn’t that a bit obvious?’
‘What, obvious that you’re attracted to him?’
‘No, obvious that that would be what it means. Aren’t dreams supposed to be symbolic?’
‘Oh, for godsakes, Jo, that’s only if you dream about something weird, like a purple rabbit that keeps visiting your house and taking away your Easter eggs and leaving little bunny pellets of poo in their place.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Sorry, that was one of my recurring dreams. I used to have it all the time when I was a teenager. I eventually worked out that it had something to do with losing my childhood, or my virginity, or both. Or either. Anyhow, my point is, Joe is not a purple rabbit.’
‘Thanks for that startling insight.’
‘You’re dreaming of having sex every which way with a very attractive man you are well acquainted with. I’m afraid there’s only one way to interpret that, girlfriend.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Jo persisted. ‘You know I haven’t been getting much lately, and I’m frustrated, and yes, I suppose I find Bannister attractive, and he’s someone new for my subconscious to process. So these dreams I’ve been having are like that pesto, all the ingredients were quite different and distinct before they got shoved together in a bowl and macerated by a spinning blade.’
Angie crossed her arms. ‘You’re doing that thing you do.’
‘What thing?’
‘Seeing the trees and not the forest.’
‘I don’t do that.’
‘Oh yes you do. You’re doing it now, dissecting this to billy-o rather than looking at the big glaring obvious picture. Yes, you’re attracted to Joe. Which means you like him. You may have even found your soul mate.’
‘Oh, here we go,’ Jo rolled her eyes. ‘There’s no such thing as soul mates, Ange.’
‘Says you.’
‘Says commonsense, and a divorce rate that’s higher than one in every three marriages. If everyone has a soul mate, why do so many people get it so wrong?’
‘Because they settle,’ Angie stated plainly. ‘They take the person who comes along at around the right time but not necessarily for the right reasons.’
That wasn’t a bad point. Jo wondered if there was a column in it.
‘I choose to believe I have a soul mate out there somewhere,’ Angie continued. ‘And some day he’s going to walk into my life and I’ll know. We’ll both know.’
There was her column. Debunking the soul mate myth.
‘What if your “soul mate” lives on the other side of the world?’ Jo suggested.
‘We’ll find each other,’ Angie said airily. ‘Lots of times people meet when they’re travelling and they end up together, and it never would have happened in the normal course of events. But you can’t escape fate.’
‘You can when you don’t believe in it.’
‘How can you of all people not believe in fate?’ Angie exclaimed. ‘Look at how you and Joe met, in an elevator that broke down? And he’s got the same name as you? You’re like yin and yang . . . Soul mates,’ she added in a perky singsong voice.
‘Please don’t do that,’ Jo said. ‘For one thing, I would have met him whether the elevator broke down or not, because he was coming to work at the Trib. And we both have the same name, so we’re like yin and yin, or yang and yang, but not yin and yang. He’s not my soul mate.’
‘And yet you think about him when you’re having sex with someone else.’ Angie dumped the empty food processor bowl into the sink and turned around, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘What’s the problem anyway?’ she said. ‘Is it because he’s not married?’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘It’s completely fair, Jo. He’s too available for you, you might actually have to have a real relationship with him.’
‘This is getting out of hand,’ said Jo. ‘Now you’ve got us having a relationship? There’s absolutely no evidence that Joe is attracted to me whatsoever. In fact the other night he made it quite clear that he doesn’t have much of an opinion of me at all.’
‘Why, what’d he say?
’
‘He had a go at me about my relationship with Lachlan.’
‘So, I do that all the time and I still love you,’ she said. ‘Why do you think he’d be having a go at you about Lachlan if he wasn’t interested in you?’
Jo’s chest cramped in a slightly uncomfortable way.
‘And why do you think he showed up at your place with the wine that night,’ she went on, counting off her fingers, ‘and offered to go with you to the twins’ birthday party – like that wasn’t to score brownie points. And then there’s the little matter of your date Friday night –’
‘It wasn’t a date. He asked us both.’
‘And then there’s the way he looks at you,’ she said finally, leaning back against the bench.
Jo was sure her cheeks were going red, she could feel the heat. ‘He doesn’t “look” at me,’ she scoffed.
‘Oh he looks at you, all right, with those big brown eyes.’
‘Blue,’ Jo corrected. ‘His eyes are blue. They’re very blue.’
Angie raised an eyebrow. ‘Are they?’
‘Oh, so what if I know the colour of his eyes?’ Jo groaned. ‘Don’t forget I was stuck in a confined space with him for over an hour when we first met.’
‘Oh, look at all those trees,’ said Angie. ‘I wonder if there could be a forest anywhere about?’
Jo pulled a face. ‘Yeah, well, you’re forgetting one very big tree in that forest.’
‘What?’
‘Lachlan. I’m not exactly available.’
Angie shook her head. ‘So first things first, you need to get that log out of your eye so you can see straight. You’re just making excuses and not giving yourself the chance to be happy.’
‘What did you say?’
‘End it with Lachlan. He’s married. You’re not unavailable, he is.’
‘No, the other bit.’
‘That you’re making excuses?’
‘No, the last bit.’
Angie frowned. ‘That you’re not giving yourself the chance to be happy?’
Crossing Paths Page 23
