Jo hesitated. Close the book. Do it, stop it here, now. This is your chance.
‘He wanted me to know that it didn’t mean anything with Carla and that it won’t be happening again,’ she blurted, then immediately covered her mouth with her hand, closing the gate once the horse had bolted.
Belle squealed with delight.
‘Is that really what he said?’ Angie asked, looking meaningfully at Jo.
‘It really is,’ Jo nodded, meeting her gaze directly. Poor Ange didn’t know what was real and what was made up any more. Jo was beginning to feel the same way, except she wasn’t making this up.
‘So how do you feel about that?’ Angie went on.
Jo thought for a moment. ‘Unprepared.’
‘What did you say to him?’ asked Belle.
‘That it had nothing to do with me.’
‘Well, of course it does!’ Belle scolded. ‘That’s why he was telling you.’
Jo nodded faintly. ‘That’s what he said.’
Angie leaned closer to her. ‘So how do you feel about him?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, bewildered.
‘Of course you do,’ Belle tut-tutted. ‘You wouldn’t have gone out with him in the first place if you didn’t like him.’
Jo sighed inwardly.
‘And you wouldn’t have been thinking about him while you were having sex with Lachlan,’ Angie added, bringing truth back into the equation.
‘Which brings us neatly back to the fact that you have to break it off with that man,’ Belle stated firmly.
‘Hear, hear.’
Jo sighed. ‘I can’t break it off with Lachlan just before he goes to Iraq.’
‘Why not?’ they chorused.
‘It wouldn’t be right. What if something happened to him? I’d never forgive myself.’
‘He’s not going over to fight,’ Angie reminded her.
‘That doesn’t mean the trip doesn’t involve risks.’
‘What about Joe?’ said Belle. ‘You can’t just leave him hanging. He’s swallowed his pride and made the first move, and if you don’t give him some kind of response, what’s he going to think? I’ll tell you, he’ll think you’re not interested, what else could he think? You drag your chain now, waiting till that man’s back safe and sound, and Joe will have moved on. And who could blame him? He’s an attractive man, and a very eligible one, and from what I hear they’re pretty thin on the ground. I bet you there are plenty of women with their eye on him, waiting for the opportunity, and some of them may not be as dithery as you, Jo. She who hesitates . . .’
Jo sagged back in her chair. ‘Cripes, this is all getting too complicated.’
‘More complicated than going out with a married man?’ Belle asked in a rhetorical tone.
‘Yes, actually, if you want to know the truth.’
‘Well, I don’t understand that.’
‘I know where I stand with Lachlan. I don’t have any expectations of him beyond that, so I don’t have any of the angst that comes from having all your expectations resting on someone who’s probably going to let you down in the end.’
Belle was shaking her head sadly. ‘What about the good stuff?’
‘What good stuff?’
‘I know they let you down,’ she said. ‘Darren gives me the shits on a daily basis. But I’m still glad he’s there at the end of the day. Even if we’ve been at each other all night, he still lets me stick my cold feet up against him in bed. And I know sometimes it feels like the footy-tipping comp is more important to him, but the fact is, if anything happened to me, he’d be the first one there.’
‘You’re certainly not going to get any of that from Lachlan,’ said Angie.
Jo shrugged. ‘I can always wear bedsocks.’
Angie and Belle both shook their heads in unison, like a Greek chorus of pity.
‘Does he actually make you happy?’ Angie asked.
‘He doesn’t make me unhappy.’ Most of the time.
‘Don’t you want more than that?’
It didn’t really matter what she wanted. Jo had learned early on that you don’t always get what you want. In fact, you hardly ever do.
‘You know what I do want?’ said Jo, slapping her hands on her thighs. ‘I want to change the subject. I reckon we’ve exhausted this topic, and I’m going to pass the baton. How’s, um, Gourmet Sandwich Man?’ she asked Angie; she’d given up trying to remember his moniker from whim to whim.
‘Who’s that?’ Belle asked.
As Angie launched into to the latest instalment of the Amazing Adventures of Gourmet Sandwich Man, Jo tuned out, retreating to the privacy of her own thoughts. Belle and Angie just complicated things, with their talk of happily-ever-afters, as if that was even on the cards.
But it was clear she had a choice to make, between the relatively safe, if somewhat rudderless, pleasure cruise with Lachlan, and the unchartered waters of an actual regular relationship with Joe. What Belle and Angie were not taking into account in all their excitement was that there were no lifejackets on such a voyage, and Jo had never been a very strong swimmer.
The following week
Lachlan rolled off her and lay flat on his back on the bed beside her, catching his breath. Like he always did. It annoyed Jo actually, not that she’d ever told him so. But the way he sprang off her after climaxing had always made her feel cheap somehow. It was a little too ‘wham bam, thank you ma’am’.
Jo didn’t know why she was having thoughts like this tonight, when it was the last time they would be together before he left for Iraq. But in the past week she’d found that a lot of what Lachlan did got on her nerves. Things she hadn’t noticed before, like the way he frequently cut her off mid-sentence, either because he felt what he had to say was more important, or because he clearly wasn’t listening in the first place. And when he did speak, he often sounded as though he was reading aloud from one of his own op-ed pieces. He was completely oblivious to criticism, it barely even registered. It was as though Lachlan was coated in Teflon, everything just slid off, leaving no mark, no stain, no impression at all. And then there were his other quirks, like this post-coital indifference, which Jo had always been aware of but largely ignored. After all, he wasn’t her partner for life, she didn’t have to ‘work’ on the relationship, or else she might have told him that a bit of affection after sex was not too much to expect. But Jo had no expectations, that was the deal, that was her mantra. No expectations, no disappointment.
So why was it all beginning to seem cold and empty? Was this the person she’d become? Had she built up a Teflon coating as well? The idea sent a shiver through her. She didn’t want to be a cold person, she didn’t feel as though she was a cold person. In fact, whenever she’d laid eyes on Bannister this week she’d felt quite the opposite. She could see him now, smiling at her across the news floor, passing her in the corridor with a wink, and the day they found themselves once again in an elevator together. Jo had been waiting for the lift when the doors opened and Bannister was standing there. His face broke into a broad smile as soon as he saw her, and her heart had missed a beat; she felt it again now just thinking about it.
‘Going down?’ he’d asked.
Jo had nodded as she stepped in. ‘You too?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, as though he’d just decided that was a good idea.
Jo pressed the button for the ground floor, and leaned back against the wall, surveying the interior. ‘I wonder if this is the –’
‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘Our elevator is the second from the end on the left-hand side of the bay, facing reception.’
Jo met his eyes then, with a faint lift of her eyebrow. Our elevator?
‘I was thinking of having a plaque installed,’ he added.
They smiled at each other as the lift stopped on a lower floor. The doors slid open and Lachlan was standing there. He took in the scene, his eyes darting suspiciously from Jo to Bannister and back again.
‘Hello you two
,’ he said in a smarmy tone as he stepped inside the lift. The doors closed and the three of them formed a triangle, facing each other. To call the moment awkward would be like calling Mount Everest a grassy knoll.
‘So when do you head out, Lachlan?’ Bannister was first to break the silence.
‘Monday,’ he replied curtly.
‘Looking forward to it?’
Lachlan sniggered. ‘As much as one can look forward to travelling into a war zone, with the attendant risk to life and limb.’
Jo watched as Bannister cast his eyes downward, rubbed his hand across his forehead, then around his jaw, all in an attempt, she suspected, to stop himself from laughing in Lachlan’s face.
‘I think you’ll make it out alive, Lachlan,’ he said finally when he’d composed himself. ‘After all, journalists don’t get too close to the action these days, isn’t that right?’
Lachlan regarded him with a smug sneer.
‘It’s all just a cushy PR exercise, the way I hear it,’ Joe had gone on. ‘And you’ll be under military protection the whole time, probably one of the safest places you could be, as a matter of fact.’
‘I’ll pay the penny . . .’ said Lachlan, running his fingers across her abdomen.
Jo jumped, startled. He was propped on his side, looking down at her. She was miles away, she’d almost forgotten Lachlan was there in the bed beside her.
‘What did you just say?’ she murmured, feeling disoriented.
‘I was offering you a penny for your thoughts,’ he explained. ‘You were a long way away then.’
She shrugged. ‘I was just dozing off. I’m pretty tired.’
He smoothed his hand across her midriff and up to cover her breast as he leaned in to kiss her. Jo could feel his urgency building, and she recoiled inside. She really wasn’t in the mood, she’d had to force it the first time around. Lachlan must have sensed it now, because he stopped abruptly, looking down at her.
‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing, why?’
He hesitated. ‘You don’t seem to be into it tonight.’
‘I told you I’m just tired.’
‘Okay then,’ he said, his hand slipping away from her breast.
‘Lach, it’s fine if you want to . . . go ahead.’
He gave her a wounded look, before turning away to lie on his back again, staring up at the ceiling.
Jo sighed loudly. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I didn’t realise it was such a hardship for you to have sex with me. Especially as I’m going to be out of your hair for a couple of weeks.’
It was the Saturday night before he was to leave. They had slipped away from work early, Leo would have frowned upon that had he known, but there was no late breaking news, and this was their last chance to be together before he went to Iraq. Every night this week Jo had put him off, for one reason or another, but she’d finally run out of excuses. She’d relented tonight when he told her he wouldn’t be able to stay long because his wife had planned a family dinner at home.
Jo propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. ‘It’s not a hardship, Lachlan. I just thought you didn’t have much time. But I don’t mind, if you want to.’
He frowned at her. ‘Such enthusiasm.’
‘Look, I told you I was tired. I can’t help the way I feel.’
‘No, you can’t, can you?’ He held her gaze for several moments. ‘There’s something I want to ask you, but I think you’ll get annoyed if I do.’
Jo lowered her eyes. ‘Well, you shouldn’t ask a question if you’re not prepared to hear the answer.’
He sighed deeply. ‘Something’s changed, it feels like you’ve lost interest.’
‘I’m just tired, Lach, how many times do I have to say it?’
‘I’m not only talking about tonight,’ he said. ‘It’s been happening for a while now.’ He seemed hesitant. ‘Ever since Bannister came on the scene.’
‘Christ, Lachlan!’ she exclaimed, lying back flat on the bed.
‘See, I said you’d get annoyed.’
‘Well, you were right about that at least.’
He shifted onto his side, looking down at her. ‘So I’m not right about . . .’
‘What?’ she prompted, arching her eyebrow.
‘You know what I’m trying to say.’
‘And you’re not normally so reticent.’
‘Or you, defensive,’ he countered.
‘Why are you doing this tonight, Lachlan?’ she pleaded. ‘I don’t want to fight with you before you go away.’
‘Okay, you’re right.’ He reached over to stroke her arm. ‘Are we still . . . Do you . . . What’s going to happen when I get back?’
‘I can’t do this now,’ said Jo, throwing off the covers as she got up out of bed.
‘Are you talking about us?’ he said accusingly, sitting up.
She pulled on a robe. ‘This is all because someone else paid me a bit of attention, and he happens to be male, and you can’t stand it. Lachlan, are you forgetting you have a wife, who I’ve never bitched about, or been jealous of, because I came into this with my eyes open. What we have is here, right now, when we’re together. Beyond that, there is no “us”.’
Lachlan was listening intently. ‘What if that’s not enough any more?’
Jo’s heart was racing. ‘What are you saying?’
He scratched his head. ‘I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying.’
‘Do you want to break up?’ she asked tentatively.
‘No!’ he insisted. ‘Is that what you want?’
Bloody hell. Why did this have to come up now?
‘Lachlan, I don’t even understand what you’re talking about, you brought this up.’
He leaned back against the bedhead. ‘Never mind, I’m just feeling a little antsy, I guess.’
Jo softened. ‘About Monday?’
He nodded, giving her a plaintive look. She walked around his side of the bed and sat facing him. ‘You’re not going to try and be a hero or do anything crazy, are you, Lach?’
He gave a half-hearted laugh, stroking her arm. ‘Who, me? You know me better than that.’
He drew closer to kiss her, and Jo realised she was forcing it again. Lachlan was a good kisser, it was one of his better attributes, but her heart wasn’t in it any more. Maybe he sensed it, she didn’t know for sure, but he drew back first.
‘I better get going,’ he said huskily. ‘Sandra will be waiting.’
‘Yes, she will.’
JO LIDDELL
BITCH
Something has gone awry in the world. Perhaps you already knew that, but I have the figures to prove it.
At the height of the Iraq war, the US was spending $2 billion a week, to achieve what exactly? The displacement of 4 million Iraqis? 30,000 US casualties? Collateral damage running into billions of dollars?
While all this was happening, Americans spent over $38 billion per year on their pets, with specialty pet spas and hotels experiencing a major boom.
Before you get smug, Australians are just as good at spending up big on unnecessary crap, like almost $1 billion on unwanted Christmas gifts each year. Yes, you read that right. A population of just over 20 million people manages to spend one billion dollars, most of it over the space of a few weeks in December, on stuff no one wants. Little wonder we share in over $30 billion of credit card debt in this country, paying interest on stuff that someone will put on eBay, so someone else can go into further debt to buy it.
Yet, before we were shamed into doing more, Australia initially pledged a paltry $7.5 million to the voluntary fund set up under the Kyoto Protocol to assist poor nations, which is actually the amount we spend on airconditioners and desk fans every two days. Every two days.
We spend $13 billion on gambling a year in Australia, where a full one-fifth of the poker machines in the world can be found, because after all, it’s a lucrative source of revenue for the government. As are cigarettes, which net the government in
excess of $5 billion a year in taxes. So although smoking is the leading cause of death, it more than pays for itself, particularly when you take into account – and they do – that fewer smokers are around to burden the health system into advanced old age.
I could go on, and that’s the really tragic part, I could go on, and on.
[email protected]
Sunday
Jo realised she had just read the same line over again for the third time and she still didn’t know what it said. The article was about Renee Zellweger and whether she was going to sign up for a third instalment of Bridget Jones, for which she would have to gain the usual amount of weight, and then lose it on camera as Bridget prepares for her wedding, only to put all of it back on again after she’s left at the altar.
Why was she even reading this?
Because she was bored. Clearly. It was Sunday and she had nothing to do. All of Angie’s spare time lately had been taken up with her new best friends in the drama group she’d met through Will Bannister. She was currently helping them clean up what they liked to euphemistically call their performance space. Angie had invited her to join them when Jo had phoned earlier to suggest a movie. Or something. Anything but cleaning that smelly old condemned shack. She was not that desperate.
Visiting Belle was out, she was at some neighbour’s kid’s christening. And Lachlan was still away, not that she would have seen him on a Sunday anyway. That was a fairly sacrosanct family day, as it should be.
Jo had flirted with the idea of calling Bannister, but it seemed too forward. Because flirting was about all that was going on between them at this juncture, despite the fact that the mouse was away. Jo was a bit stumped by it all. She had expected him to make his move once Lachlan was out of the picture, or at least out of the office, but nothing had changed. Still lots of smiles and winks, little jokey, flirty exchanges here and there, and that was about it. He hadn’t even asked her out for coffee. Nothing. Was he waiting for her to make the first move? Well Jo wasn’t so sure that she wanted to. Belle was right, she hadn’t had a regular boyfriend for a long time, and there was a reason for that. In fact many reasons. Her brain would go into instant replay mode and start compiling a long list every time she thought about it. So while this thing with Bannister seemed to have a life of its own, Jo was happy to go along for the ride and see where it went, but to take over the wheel was way too daunting.
Crossing Paths Page 27
