He sighed. ‘It was Jo.’
‘You finally called.’
‘Yeah.’
‘How’d it go? Did you tell her you’ve been thinking about her?’
He shook his head. ‘Didn’t really get the chance. She was at work.’
Will looked at him. ‘So what did you say?’
‘Not much. I had to tell her I wouldn’t be getting back till next week.’
‘Why not?’ he said, dropping into a nearby chair.
Joe leaned back against the verandah post. ‘Mim called before, she’s staying a few extra days. She’s having such a good time.’
‘Okay. So I’m here.’
Joe looked at him with a frown.
‘What? There’s nurses with him constantly, it’s not like I have to do anything responsible.’
‘It’s not that.’
‘Then what is it?’ said Will.
Joe shrugged ‘You must have things to do.’
‘Nuh. I can stay. Me and the old man are getting on like old mates.’
It was true. Will had sat with his dad for a while most days. He said they hadn’t talked this much in years. He was a captive audience, and Will was making the most of it.
‘I’ve told her I won’t be back now. She’s not expecting me.’
‘So go surprise her. They love that.’
‘She’s at work today.’
‘So surprise her after work. Show up at her place with flowers and a bottle of champagne, you’ll be a shoo-in.’
Joe smiled at that. ‘But she’s going out, some big charity function.’
Will thought about it. ‘Have you got a tux?’
‘Yeah, hanging in the back of my wardrobe somewhere. Unless you nicked it.’
Will pulled a face. ‘What would I do with a tux? Seriously, go put on the penguin suit and show up at this shindig and sweep her off her feet. She’ll –’
‘– like that,’ Joe finished for him.
‘You’re getting the hang, finally.’
‘Yeah, but I don’t know,’ he winced. ‘She seemed a bit pissed off on the phone.’
‘For Chrissakes, Joe!’ Will exclaimed, getting to his feet. ‘For someone who’s spent half his life in war zones, you’re such a wuss. Just get the hell out of here, would you? Before I change my mind.’
Saturday night
The auction was being held in one of the swankier hotels in the city, naturally. That irritated Jo as well. Arriving late, she was unsurprised to find the usual suspects all present and accounted for, dressed to the nines in the requisite frippery. If every woman in the room simply donated what she’d spent on her frock, they’d probably raise the same amount of money and all this nonsense could be dispensed with. But of course they loved the nonsense, it’s what drew them here, like mindless moths to an artificial flame. She passed by Carla, who gave Jo one of her signature diffident smiles. Glen was fawning over a couple of what Jo assumed were footballers, judging by the larger than average circumference of their necks. Leo was huddled in a corner with a bunch of other media players, talking newspaper business probably – he rarely talked about anything else – while his hapless wife stood by, staring around the room with a glazed expression.
Jo had the sensation she was being watched, and she turned to see Lachlan gazing at her from across the room. And he was being quite open about it too, which was so incredibly unlike him it was beginning to freak her out. She wondered if he’d got hold of some kind of mind-altering substances during his sojourn in the Middle East. He was standing where he belonged, in the midst of a clutch of beautiful people, though none more beautiful than his very own wife, dutifully taking her place beside him. Tall, mannequin-slim, stunning Sandra, with a mane of rich brunette hair so sleek and glossy she could have been on a Pantene ad. Sandra was a premium accessory, like one of those designer-label handbags you have to go on a waiting list to get. Jo watched as Sandra glanced up at her husband, before turning her head to look directly at her. It was too late to look away, at least discreetly, so Jo just smiled a friendly smile, and Sandra, who had never been anything but pleasant to her, smiled a friendly smile back. Though it seemed a little strained. Her eyes looked sad, or wistful, something.
Okay, Jo accepted her paranoia was hitting new heights. She needed a drink. She was making her way to the bar when she felt a hand on her elbow.
‘Hey, slow down.’
Jo swung around. ‘Lachlan, what are you doing?’
‘Saying hello to a colleague,’ he replied. ‘A particularly beautiful colleague, I might add. When I saw you walk into the room just now –’
‘Lachlan, will you cut it out?’ Jo hissed, trying to be outraged while keeping her voice down. ‘Have you forgotten you came with somebody tonight, somebody you happen to be married to?’
‘Sandra?’
‘Who do you think I’m talking about?’
‘Sandra’s fine,’ he dismissed. ‘She wouldn’t think anything of it even if she did notice. You and I work together.’
‘She looked at me funny, Lachlan.’
He smiled indulgently. ‘What do you mean “funny”? You’re the one being funny.’
‘I’m not funny!’ she snapped. ‘I’ve never been funny.’
‘Okay,’ he agreed, a little startled.
Jo sighed. ‘I need a drink.’
‘I’ll get it for you.’
‘No, Lach, go back to Sandra.’
‘I don’t want to. I want to be with you.’
Jo looked squarely at him. ‘Lachlan, would you stop being weird. What’s gotten into you?’
‘You have,’ he said seriously. ‘You’ve gotten under my skin and I can’t stop thinking about you.’
‘Okay, that’s enough, Lachlan. I want you to stop. This is not what we do.’ She turned away but he stuck right behind her.
‘Can I come over later?’ He stooped to say in her ear.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
She turned to face him. ‘Because you’re out for the evening with your wife and I’m not going to let you ditch her to meet up with me later.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not going to happen,’ she said plainly. ‘You’re making me cross, Lachlan. Stop following me around and go back and be with Sandra.’
He glanced around. ‘Look, she’s not even there any more. She knows tons of people here. She’ll have a ball, she wouldn’t even notice if I left, just for a while –’
‘What? You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?’
‘We could slip out . . .’
Jo was shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I don’t get what’s going on with you, Lachlan. But I don’t like it, and I’m going to have to insist you don’t come anywhere near me for the rest of the night.’
‘Can’t do that.’
‘I’m walking away now.’
‘And I’m following you.’
‘To the ladies’?’
His face dropped. Jo couldn’t take this any more. She turned around and swiftly weaved her way through the crowd till she made it out to the hall where the rest rooms were located. She pushed through the outer door, and the inner door, and came face to face with Mrs Sandra Barr.
Wipe that look of shock and guilt off your face, Jo. Quickly, before she notices.
‘Hi Jo,’ Sandra said warmly. Warmly was how she said it, there was no other way to describe it.
‘Hello Sandra.’ Jo hoped she achieved a similar tone, despite the strangled quality in her voice.
‘That’s a lovely dress.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Jo said, glancing down at herself. It was a simple dress, but it was well cut. She’d paid a lot of money for it, but she’d had it for years and she’d certainly got her wear out of it. ‘This is just my standard, all-occasion formal outfit. I don’t exactly have a wardrobe bulging with couture.’ God, did that sound bitchy? She didn’t mean it to sound bitchy.
‘Well, it’s a good choice, it s
uits you,’ Sandra said kindly. ‘They call that periwinkle blue, don’t they? It matches your eyes.’
I’ve fucked your husband, lately while thinking of another man. Don’t be nice to me.
‘Anyway,’ said Jo by way of ending the conversation so she could go hide in a cubicle.
‘Can I ask you something, Jo?’ said Sandra.
No, don’t ask me anything. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to get out of here.
‘Sure.’
Sandra leaned back against the polished slab of black granite that housed the bank of handbasins. She swept her hair forward, just like they do in the Pantene ads, draping it over one shoulder. Jo could see the detail at the back of Sandra’s dress reflected in the mirror. Maybe twenty fine strings of pearls weaved in an intricate web across her creamy olive skin. The effect was spectacular. She was spectacular.
‘Before Lachlan went away,’ Sandra began, her voice even and steady, ‘he was very distracted, moody, agitated I suppose you’d say. Even though it could have been dangerous, I thought it would be good for him to get away, to have a break, from . . . everything here.’
Jo wanted to ask her why she was telling her this. But her powers of speech had fled for the coast, leaving no forwarding address.
‘Since he’s been back,’ Sandra continued, ‘he’s only been worse. He’s like a caged lion.’ She took a deep breath, as though she needed to compose herself for what was coming.
Shit. Jo was beginning to feel like a trapped animal as well.
‘The thing is, Jo, if you don’t want to be with Lachlan any more, it might be kinder to break it off cleanly.’
Jo pictured a bucket above her head, Carrie-style, dumping the blood of Sandra and her two small, innocent children all over her. She thought she might pass out.
‘Don’t be alarmed, I’ve known the whole time.’ Sandra’s voice was very calm, she wasn’t being histrionic. Why wasn’t she being histrionic? Why didn’t she slap Jo? Really hard. That would be so much easier to take than this.
‘He’s done it before,’ she was saying. ‘I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. You strike me as a very savvy person, Jo. And as for me, well, I’ve always accepted that this is just who Lachlan is. It was going on even before we were married, I went in with my eyes open. I love him, and the way I look at it is that if Lachlan needs it, and he stays with me and the children, well, I can . . . accommodate it.’
Jo wanted to cry out, No! Don’t accommodate any of it. You deserve so much better. But her role as an advocate for her lover’s wife was somewhat compromised.
‘So, anyway, think about it,’ said Sandra. ‘He’s really not having a good time of it lately. So if you care at all, for Lachlan . . .’
She said it with no malice, or judgement, or moral superiority. If anything there was only polite respect. She didn’t know whether Sandra Barr was an amazing woman, or just plain mad.
Jo decided she was probably an amazing woman with a proportionately amazing deficit of self-esteem.
Sandra smiled at her. It wasn’t forced this time, though her eyes still had that poignant expression. Now Jo understood why.
‘Anyway, I better go back to the party. If you’ll excuse me?’
Jo nodded, and moved aside as she passed. She couldn’t say anything. Quite aside from having no voice, what could she say?
Sandra hesitated at the door. ‘Oh, and it’s entirely up to you, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Lachlan. He doesn’t realise I know, I’d rather keep it that way.’
Jo nodded again, mouthing, ‘Okay.’
Sandra left the room. No one else came in. Sand flowed through an hourglass somewhere on the planet, and Jo remained rooted to the spot. She had to get out of here, but her limbs didn’t seem to be functioning.
Her phone rang. Jo fumbled in her bag and drew it out. She realised her hands were trembling as she flipped it open and held it to her ear. ‘Hello?’ she said, fear rising in her chest. God, she wasn’t going to have another panic attack, was she?
‘Hi Jo?’
‘Hello?’ she said again, confused. It sounded like Bannister.
‘It’s me, Joe.’
‘Oh.’
‘Did you end up going to the auction tonight?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she said in a tiny voice, as though she didn’t want anyone to know.
‘So where are you?’
She didn’t understand what he was getting at. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m here, I’ve been looking all over for you.’
‘You’re here? In Sydney?’
‘I’m here, at the hotel.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Will took over my watch. I thought I’d surprise you.’
‘Oh.’
‘So where are you, Jo?’
‘Um, I’m in the bathroom.’
‘Oh, you’re still getting ready?’
‘No, no, I’m here, at the hotel. I’m in the ladies’.’
‘Okay.’ Joe paused. ‘Are you coming out any time soon?’
‘I don’t think I can.’
‘Why not?’
She was trembling. She didn’t know what to say.
‘Jo, are you okay?’
‘No. I’m not okay. I’m a bad person, a very bad person,’ she stammered.
‘What are you talking about?’
She was really trembling now. Shaking even. She could feel tears welling in the back of her throat. Oh God, she was frightened, she didn’t want to have a panic attack in here, on her own.
‘I’m a bitch, aren’t I? That’s why I have that column. I’m a cold, heartless bitch.’ No, if she didn’t have a heart she wouldn’t be feeling like this right now. The tin man should count himself lucky.
‘Jo, what happened?’
Now the tears. ‘Sandra Barr just told me – no,’ Jo blubbered, ‘she just asked me, nicely, if I would consider not fucking her husband any more. Only she didn’t say fuck, she wouldn’t, because she’s too nice. She’s not a slut like me,’ she sobbed loudly.
‘Jo,’ he chided. ‘I’m outside the ladies’, the one on the ground floor? Up the hall from the ballroom?’
‘Go away, don’t come near me,’ she wailed. ‘I’m a bad person. I’ll drag you down to hell with me, and I don’t even believe in hell.’
‘Have you been drinking?’ he asked, not unkindly.
‘I haven’t had a single drink, not even one.’
‘We might have to do something about that then. Is there anyone in there with you?’
Jo glanced around. ‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, why?’
She heard the outer door, and then the door in front of her swung open and Joe strode in, pocketing his phone as he did. She froze, staring at him. Was she hallucinating now? Where did he come from?
‘What’s all this about?’ he said in the kindest voice she had ever heard as he removed the phone from her hand and closed it.
‘I want to go home,’ she whimpered.
‘Okay,’ he said, bringing his arms around her and holding her close. She leant against his chest as he stroked her hair. ‘It’s okay, I’ll take you home.’
Jo looked up at him plaintively. ‘You will? You don’t mind being seen with me?’
He smiled down at her. ‘Of course not. But you may not want to be seen out there looking the way you do.’
‘Why?’ Jo sniffed, staring down at her dress. Periwinkle blue. ‘Do I look like a slut? Does it show?’
‘No,’ he assured her. ‘You look beautiful, it’s just your make-up’s a little worse for wear.’ He held her shoulders and turned her around to face the mirrors.
‘Oh my God,’ she winced, rubbing under her panda eyes.
‘Hold on,’ he said, turning her around to face him. ‘You’re going to make it worse.’ He snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and wet it under the tap. Then he held her face, and dabbed under her ey
es, ever so gently.
Jo gazed up at him. His eyes, they were so blue, and his brow was all furrowed from concentration. Why was he being so nice? She didn’t deserve it. She was a home-wrecker.
‘There, that’s better,’ he said after a while. He turned her around to look in the mirror again. Her eyes were still smudged, but less obviously. And her nose was a bit red, but she couldn’t do much about that.
‘Okay, we better get out of here before someone comes in,’ said Joe.
They heard the swish of the outer door.
‘Too late,’ he added.
The door opened and two women appeared engrossed in conversation. They stopped in their tracks when they saw Joe.
‘Sorry, ladies, safety pin emergency, out of reach, you know how it is,’ he said, sweeping past them. ‘I’ll wait for you outside, Jo.’
They turned to look at her.
‘Are you all right?’ one of them asked. ‘Was he bothering you?’
Jo sniffed. ‘No, no, not at all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He was helping me. Really.’
‘Here,’ said the other woman, opening her clutch purse. ‘You better borrow my powder, it’ll take away the redness.’
Jo felt more composed as she walked out into the hall a few moments later. Joe was leaning against the wall opposite, and he straightened when she appeared. She hadn’t even had a good look at him. He was wearing a tux . . . what was it about men in suits?
‘Wow,’ she sighed. ‘You really know how to wear one of those.’
He smiled as he walked over to her. ‘Ready to go?’
‘You don’t have to do this, Joe.’
‘I want to.’
‘But you’re all dressed up for the party. And you only just got here.’
He shook his head. ‘Why do you think I’m here, Jo?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Why are you here anyway?’
‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he said plainly. ‘I wanted to come back, I did, but when Mim said she was staying on . . . Anyway, Will offered to stay with Dad, so, here I am.’
‘Here you are.’
‘At your disposal,’ he said. ‘So what do you want to do?’
She hesitated. ‘I want to get out of here.’
‘Then let’s go,’ he said, offering her his arm.
Jo accepted it gratefully. ‘Stay close?’ she asked.
Crossing Paths Page 33
