by Louise Guy
Nat did her best to ignore the flutter in her stomach whenever Leon’s name was mentioned. Part of her would have liked to have said hello but another part of her knew it was sensible to stay away from him. ‘Were the flowers his apology?’
Phyllie nodded. ‘Yes, and a two-hundred-dollar voucher for the nursery so I can replace the plants Rainbow enjoyed. It was very generous of him. We had a lovely chat. He’s right into reading thrillers, did you know that?’
Nat shook her head. ‘I don’t know much about him at all.’
‘I promised he could borrow my copy of Murder on the Orient Express. Can you believe he hasn’t read it? And I have that lovely first edition sitting on the shelf in my sewing room.’
‘Did you give it to him?’
Phyllie shook her head. ‘No, I said you’d drop it in this afternoon. I didn’t want to come upstairs and disturb you. You don’t mind, do you?’
Nat felt her cheeks colouring. Why was Phyllie sending her to see Leon after being so adamant she didn’t want her messing things up with him?
‘It’s just dropping in a book, Nat, nothing more. Now, enough about Leon. I want to talk about you and your workaholic tendencies. It’s Saturday afternoon. You’re working seven days a week. Whether you’re spinning swimwear into gold or not, you need to get out and do something else.’
Nat poured her tea and brought it across to the table to sit with Phyllie. ‘In approximately two hours from now, I’ll be catching up with Pip. I haven’t seen her since before I moved in here. She’s invited me for drinks before seeing a comedian, Grant Lacey. She received two free tickets for the show and her fiancé, Richard, is away, so she needs someone to go with her. I imagine half the night will be taken up talking about her wedding and her locking me down for bridesmaid fittings and the rest of it.’
Delight crossed Phyllie’s face. ‘That’s wonderful. A perfect end to what looks like a great day for you.’ A wicked glint appeared in her eyes. ‘But remember my rule – no houseguests. I don’t want to be woken in the middle of the night by thumping, or should I say humping, coming from your bedroom. Do you understand me?’
Nat laughed. ‘Don’t worry. Pip’s about to get married and won’t be happy if I abandon her to hook up with someone. I’m just looking forward to a few laughs. Grant Lacey’s supposed to be hilarious.’
As instructed, Nat took the first edition from Phyllie’s bookshelf and walked to Leon’s house. Butterflies flittered in her stomach, which annoyed her. She was delivering a book, nothing more.
Leon opened the front door seconds after Nat knocked. His hair was wet, his white t-shirt, crisp and clean, hung loosely over his snug-fitting jeans.
She held up the book. ‘Special delivery from Phyllie. I believe you’re expecting this.’
Leon smiled. ‘Thanks, come in. Perfect timing actually, I just opened a bottle of wine.’
Nat hesitated before stepping through the doorway and into a living area. With a fireplace on one side, three navy couches and a large wooden coffee table, the room was homey and inviting. The carved artwork on the walls added a unique and interesting feel. Nat walked over to one of the carvings.
‘These are nice.’
‘Thanks.’
She glanced over at him, noticing his cheeks had coloured. ‘Did you do them?’
Leon nodded. ‘A hobby. I usually sell them and donate the proceeds to charity, but every now and then I keep one.’
Nat moved to the next carving, a sailboat travelling through rough seas. ‘They must take you ages. The detail is so intricate.’
‘There’s no hurry to finish them. Some take me days, some take me weeks.’ He winked. ‘They keep me out of trouble. Now, how about that glass of wine?’
‘Just a small one, thanks. I need to be going soon to get changed. I’m going out with a friend tonight.’
A shiver went down her spine as his eyes looked her up and down. ‘You look pretty good to me as you are.’
Nat smiled. ‘Not sure an old t-shirt is considered appropriate for a night out, but thanks all the same.’
Leon grinned and motioned for her to follow him through to the kitchen. He poured them a glass each from the bottle of Merlot he had breathing on the kitchen bench. More wood was featured throughout the kitchen, but it was the large window overlooking the back garden that Nat’s eyes were drawn to.
She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.
Leon followed her gaze and laughed too. ‘Bloody goat. I fixed the trellis so she can’t get out, but she was so bored I had to give her something to do.’
A number of wooden blocks looked to have been hammered into the grass. Rainbow was currently balancing halfway along the ten metre row, tentatively placing one hoof forward.
‘She’s been walking up and down it for ages. She’ll be good enough for the circus soon.’
Nat’s phone pinged with a message as they watched the goat. It was Phyllie.
Just drop the book off, my girl. No breaking my Leon’s heart.
Heat rose in Nat’s cheeks and she placed the wine glass on the kitchen counter.
‘Everything alright?’
‘Sorry, I have to go. I hadn’t realised how late it was already. The text was a reminder that I’m being picked up soon.’
Nat’s own disappointment was reflected in Leon’s expression.
‘No worries, let me walk you out.’ He walked her to the front door and held it open for her. ‘Thank Phyllie for the book, won’t you?’
Nat smiled. ‘Will do.’ She turned and headed back up the path and out of Leon’s garden. What was Phyllie playing at? One minute she was sending her to see Leon and the next dragging her back. If she didn’t want her breaking Leon’s heart, why even suggest Nat have anything to do with him at all?
Two hours later, Nat sat across from Pip at Trambos, a quaint pub in Carlton. It was buzzing with the relaxed laughter and chatter of the Saturday night crowd, reminding Nat that she’d isolated herself in the previous weeks.
They’d met half an hour ago and Nat was genuinely delighted to see her friend. She was also in an excellent mood, having won another game before coming tonight. It was as if her lucky streak was back again. Maybe she would be able to dig herself out of the hole she was in. And at this rate, a lot quicker than she’d previously imagined.
‘What the hell, Nat?’
Nat’s hand froze, her mojito halfway between the table and her lips. She’d never seen Pip so annoyed, and she assumed she was about to learn why.
Pip was shaking her head. ‘You’ve ignored my calls and hardly answered my texts and now you’re unsuccessfully trying to build a career playing online poker? That’s ridiculous.’ She took a huge sip of her cider. ‘You’ve done some bizarre things, but this one tops it all.’
Nat put her mojito down on the table and laughed. She couldn’t help it. The way Pip was looking at her and talking to her was so out of character it was hilarious. She’d hardly packed herself off to a convent or started taking drugs or doing something way out there.
‘It’s not funny. I’ve known you for years now, and you flit from one thing to the next, never spending more than a few months at it. I guess that’s a positive on this occasion in that you must already have itchy feet and be thinking of moving on to something else. I also can’t believe that I had to hear from that arsehole Todd that you’d been fired. I bumped into him a couple of weeks ago; I was surprised he remembered me actually, but he obviously paid attention to who you took to the Christmas party last year. He was practically salivating with excitement when he filled me in. But gambling, Nat, are you crazy?’
‘Jeez,’ Nat said. ‘Where’s nice, lovely Pip gone? Let’s talk about you and Richard and how that’s going and where the wedding planning’s up to. It will make for a nicer night than having an opinion on something you know nothing about.’
‘I know enough about gambling to know it’s something to stay right away from. You remember Dean, Wendy Hollis’s h
usband?’
‘Of course.’
‘Wendy found him in his car in the garage after he’d used a pipe and the car’s exhaust to kill himself.’
Nat did remember. It had been an enormous shock. Dean was one of those guys who’d always been the life of the party. A loving husband with a baby on the way.
‘He’d maxed out all their credit cards, spent all their savings and even had the house remortgaged. We, including Wendy, all thought he was doing well in his position at Reuters. It turns out he’d been fired over six months earlier and was spending his work hours at the casino. Imagine the position that left Wendy in. Not only grieving for the loss of her husband and father of her baby but with huge amounts of debt as well. She had to sell the house and move back in with her parents. Gambling can become a disease. It’s addictive and ruins lives.’
Nat wasn’t sure how to respond to any of this.
Pip studied her. ‘How much have you won, if this is now your career?’
‘Overall, I’m not sure, to be honest, but to give you an idea of how lucrative it can be, I’ve won over seven hundred dollars today.’
‘Profit or winnings only?’
Heat crept up Nat’s neck. ‘Winnings. Profit would be about five hundred. Still, not a bad result for the day.’
Pip nodded. ‘Okay, so in the four or five weeks you’ve been doing this, how much profit have you made?’
‘God,’ Nat said. ‘I wouldn’t ask you such a personal question about your finances.’
Pip rolled her eyes. ‘That tells me exactly what I thought – you’ve made none and are probably in debt. How much?’
Nat took a large sip of her drink. ‘It’s none of your business. All you need to know is I’m enjoying what I’m doing, and I’m not in huge debt.’ Okay, so that was a lie, but it really was none of Pip’s business. She hadn’t volunteered the information, and had no intention to.
Pip reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘Sorry. I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m genuinely worried about you. If this were a part-time hobby, I’d still be a bit worried, particularly after what happened to Dean, but you’re doing this full-time. What about the work you love? Sitting inside on a computer all day playing poker with random strangers can’t be good for you. Surely you want to be doing something that matters? When did you last volunteer at Shared? I helped out in the soup kitchen after work on Wednesday night and Robyn said she was worried about you. That you usually put in an appearance at least twice a week and she hadn’t seen you for about three weeks. That’s not like you to let people down.’
Nat sighed. Part of her was tempted to tell Pip that she had contributed to Shared via donations, but she decided to keep this to herself for now. ‘I just need a break for a while, that’s all. If anything, I’m the one who’s been let down. I didn’t do anything wrong at Benedict’s and look how that worked out. I can’t imagine I’ll get another job very easily without a reference.’
Pip grinned. ‘Actually, I think you can get another job just like it. One of my clients is the HR manager at Endeavour Trust. They’re about to advertise for a community support officer. I told Col, the HR manager, to hold off until I’d spoken to you. He’s willing to interview you next week before he advertises. If you’re suitable, you’ll save him the headache of going through the whole recruitment rigmarole. I think he’s away for the first few days of the week so it would probably be Thursday or Friday.’
Nat stared at Pip. As much as she knew she should probably be thanking her friend, she felt annoyed. She’d explained she had a full-time job and wasn’t looking for another one. Just because Pip didn’t approve of poker didn’t mean she shouldn’t be doing it.
‘And,’ Pip continued, ‘you don’t need to worry about him finding out about the guy you took home while you were at Benedict’s. I already told him.’
‘You what? How’s that going to help my chances of getting a job?’
Pip laughed. ‘Col’s cool, you’ll like him. He rolled his eyes and said he couldn’t believe they hadn’t just given you a warning, that he’d probably do the same thing himself if put in that position. It’s against the contract terms at Endeavour Trust too, but he’s not going to penalise you for something you did at another job. He said doing something like that showed your heart was in the right place. As I said, he’s a great guy.’
Nat couldn’t help but smile. It was a shame he wasn’t the HR manager at Benedict’s. If that was his attitude she probably wouldn’t have been fired.
‘Now that you’re smiling, I’ll take it as a sign you’re interested in the job?’
Nat shook her head. ‘I never said that. I’m grateful you’ve gone to the trouble but the timing’s not right. I’m going to make this poker thing work.’
Pip stood. ‘I’m going to get us some more drinks, and when I get back, I’m going to convince you otherwise. Even if I have to blackmail you, you’ll be applying for this job.’
Nat watched as Pip wove her way through the wooden tables to the bar. Underneath the tough act she seemed to be trying on, they both knew that Pip was too nice; there was no way she’d resort to blackmail or anything underhand. It just wasn’t how Pip operated.
Nat’s head was a little fuzzy as she powered up her computer the next morning, ready to start her workday. Phyllie had gone out with her friend Verna for the morning to visit Verna’s son’s farm in the Yarra Valley. She’d probably return with amazing fluffy scones or slices of one of Verna’s legendary sponges. Her mouth drooled at the thought. She’d woken late after getting home just after one. The Grant Lacey show had been fabulous. She and Pip had laughed until their sides hurt, which had surprised Nat as she’d been feeling angry when they’d arrived at the theatre. Pip had stooped to the lowest of lows when it came to convincing her she should interview for the job.
‘Fine, if you’re going to ignore all my compelling arguments as to why working for an organisation like Endeavour Trust would be beneficial for both you and them, then you leave me no other option.’
Nat had waited, wondering what on earth Pip was going to come up with. What came out of her mouth had shocked Nat.
‘No way. Why would you do that?’
‘Tell your family you’re gambling full-time? Why not? If it’s a legitimate career and you’re winning money, why wouldn’t you share this news with them?’
‘Because it’s none of their business.’
Pip shook her head. ‘I think it is. I don’t want to be the friend who knew all about this and then discovers you’ve run up debts of thousands of dollars and I could have done something to prevent it.’
We’re already at that point.
‘I think I should probably tell them whether you interview for the job or not, but at least I’ll know if you’re working full-time, you won’t have the same amount of time to ruin your life by losing all your money. You’ll also have another income to fund your hobby, which will hopefully minimise your losses.’
‘You’ll only tell them if I don’t interview for the job?’
Pip nodded.
‘But what if I don’t get it?’
‘You’re qualified, likeable and I’ve already twisted Col’s arm. You’d have to do or say something wildly inappropriate not to get the job.’
Nat nodded, draining the last of the mojito from her glass. ‘I guess you aren’t giving me a choice then.’
As she opened two tables, ready to start the day, she smiled. Pip had been uncharacteristically persuasive, if you could call blackmail that, but she hadn’t accounted for Nat’s strong aversion to being told what to do. Yes, Nat would go to the job interview but she would ensure she presented herself so badly there was no way Col would give her the job.
As Sunday morning ticked by Nat only stopped to give herself enough time to make coffee and grab a banana. It was easier when Phyllie was out not to get as distracted or have her wanting to sit and chat. While the arrangement was working well, Phyllie still wanted to know her business.
It was lunchtime when she heard the front door open.
‘I’m home bearing cake. Come and get it whenever you’re hungry.’
Nat watched as her hand folded in front of her and she was bundled out of the tournament. It had not been a good start to the day. She’d lost everything she’d won yesterday and more. How could it go from one extreme to the other so quickly? There didn’t seem to be any proper reasoning behind her winning or losing streaks. Was it all down to luck? Surely it couldn’t be. She checked her account balance. She still had two thousand dollars of the five Phyllie had given her, but that meant she had lost three thousand in only five days.
‘Nat? Are you home?’
She heard Phyllie’s feet on the stairs. ‘Yes, coming down now. No need to come up.’ The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for Phyllie taking a tumble on the stairs, as well as her substantial financial losses. She closed her computer down and walked out of the room to the landing at the top of the stairs.
Phyllie beamed up at her. ‘Let’s be incredibly decadent and have cake for lunch. Verna gave us the rest of a delicious hummingbird cake. The passionfruit is to die for. Let’s celebrate, shall we?’
‘Celebrate?’ What on earth was there to celebrate?
‘You going out last night,’ Phyllie said. ‘You’re back in the land of the living, which is just wonderful. Now, I hope you’re not planning to work all day. You must start taking some time for yourself on the weekend.’
Nat moved down the stairs in a trance. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Phyllie would react if she discovered what she was really up to. And if she was honest, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle her finding out.
Chapter Fifteen
Damien and Amy disappeared with Bear for most of Sunday morning, giving Hannah plenty of time to trawl through websites on addiction. When she read through the online questionnaires with titles such as ‘Do you have a Problem?’, she wondered how many of the symptoms listed Damien was suffering from. It was quite likely he was experiencing extreme guilt, and what he’d told her about feeling low because of his birth parents could be a lie. The articles all began to blend into one: the same lists of likely symptoms addicts would be suffering, along with advice to get help. You are not alone. It appeared there were thousands of people who were being ruined by gambling, and there were plenty of support services.
