by Jane Frances
A prod in her upper arm made Cathy glance up. Lisa stood in front of her, the bowl of tomatoes in hand.
“Here, honey, have one of these.” The bowl was held out. “It will help you think.”
“Thank you.” Cathy selected one of the larger tomatoes, munching on it thoughtfully as she watched Lisa disappear into the lounge room with the bowl. Lesser women would have kicked up a fuss, insisted some solution be found in their favor. Not Lisa. Instead she offered fruit.
Cathy made up her mind and, as was her way, she acted on it immediately. Her mobile was retrieved and for the second time she dialed Toni’s number.
Chapter Seven
After much experimentation with different postures and positions, Toni finally managed to get herself relatively comfortable on the couch. When a knock sounded on her front door, Toni carefully turned her head in Virgil’s direction and asked, “I don’t suppose you want to get that for me, do you?”
The response that came from the armchair farthest away from Toni was an ear flick and an icy glare.
Toni didn’t really blame Virgil for giving her the cold shoulder. She obviously interpreted the events of the last forty-eight hours as a series of inexplicable punishments inflicted by her servant. When Virgil had arrived home from the vet, Toni did try explaining that the plastic cone collar and total curfew were only temporary measures, designed both for her own good and to protect her heavily bandaged tail. Without the cone collar Virgil would soon chew through her bandage, and with the cone collar her vision was restricted—not good for a fence-hopping feline. Virgil, if she did understand, still did not justify Toni’s actions and responded by flicking her ears disgustedly, marching into the laundry and defiantly pissing next to the litter tray instead of in it.
“I guess that’s a no then.” Toni grimaced at the pain that shot through the back of her legs as she carefully lifted herself from her half-sitting, half-lying position in the couch.
Successful in not rubbing too many of the fiery red lesions that now coated most of her body, she walked slowly to the front door.
She was expecting the young woman who stood on the other side of the threshold. “Hi, Julie. Come on in.”
She was also expecting the reaction. It was one of wide-eyed shock. Toni was expecting it because every one of the visitors she had received since word of her chicken pox got ’round reacted in the same way. Julie also followed the same pattern as the other visitors, immediately trying to mask her you look terrible expression with a bright smile. She, as with most of the others, failed. Her smile faded at the edges, “Oh, Toni.” Julie made as if to hug her but took a step back, reconsidering the contact. This was just as well. It hurt to be touched; even the light pajamas Toni wore felt like they tore at her skin. “You poor thing.”
“Well, you know.” Toni shrugged, purposely keeping her expression neutral. She was lucky the lesions on her face weren’t as numerous as those covering her body, but still it felt like her head was massive with blisters. “I’ll do anything to get out of work.”
This time the smile that crossed Julie’s features was approaching genuine. “A bit drastic, even for you.” Julie followed Toni into the lounge room, shaking her head at Toni’s offer of a drink. “You sit down and relax. I’ll get you a drink. What would you like?”
“Just water, thanks.” Toni pointed Julie in the direction of the kitchen and gratefully sank back onto the couch, the short walk to and from the front door more exertion than she could currently cope with. She could honestly say she had never felt this unwell in her life. Unfortunately, according to her doctor, it was only going to get worse before it got better. She related this to Julie, who on her return settled in the armchair not occupied by Virgil. Toni also related Virgil’s tale of woe. “So between the two of us we make a very sad and sorry pair,” Toni concluded.
“Not at all.” Julie’s words contradicted her pitying tone. “So have you any idea yet how you caught it?”
“None at all.” Toni’s first thought was the obviously unwell two-year-old from last week’s Monday morning appointment, but that hadn’t been the case. The mother confirmed Chloe was ill, but with nothing more than a cold. Luckily Chloe had already had a bout of chicken pox about six months earlier, so Toni didn’t have to live with the thought she had passed it on to the child. Her subsequent rash of phone calls to everyone she could remember being in contact with over the past three weeks also came up empty. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how Toni looked at it, it seemed she was about the only adult in the whole of Perth to have escaped childhood without having had the disease, so she wasn’t going to be the cause of an epidemic. She told Julie, “Apparently you’re contagious for a couple of days before any symptoms appear, so I guess it could have been anyone, anywhere.”
“So right now there are probably people walking around unwittingly passing it on?”
“I guess so. And in a few days they’ll be looking as bad as me.”
“You really don’t look that bad, Toni.” Julie just wasn’t a good liar. She avoided Toni’s eyes by digging into her carryall, pulling out a bulging envelope and passing it over. “This is actually for Virgil, but I thought you may like to open it for her.”
“Thanks.” Toni was not disappointed the get-well card she extracted was for Virgil. She had already taken delivery of a card and a massive bunch of flowers from the office. Flowers had also arrived from her mum, and just this morning a bouquet from Cathy and Lisa landed on her doorstep. “Look, Virg.” Toni held out the small, soft cloth-covered ball that had caused the bulge in the envelope. “You’ve got a new toy.”
Virgil did her ubiquitous ear flick, yawned widely and ignored Toni completely.
“She’s not talking to me at the moment,” Toni explained, placing the ball and the card on the coffee table. “But I’m sure she’ll come have a sniff at it as soon as I’m not looking. Thanks, Julie.”
“No worries, but as the card says, it’s actually from the whole office.” Julie shrugged and smiled wryly. “Which at the moment means me and Sue. Speaking of which”—her hand dipped into her carryall again and retrieved a spiral notebook—”are you feeling up to doing this?”
“Sure.”
Toni’s response must not have sounded very convincing. Julie placed the notebook on her lap and covered it with her hand. “Actually, this can wait until you’re a bit better. And I can always ring Cathy tomorrow.”
“No, it’s okay, really.” Toni sat up a straighter, the motion making her temples pound with the headache even her extra-strength painkillers didn’t completely ease. “It won’t take us long, and anyway tomorrow’s their big day. I doubt answering the phone will be high on the agenda.”
“I guess so.” Julie still didn’t look sold but picked up the notebook and flipped it open. After another dig in her bag a pair of reading glasses was slipped over her ears. “I was in the office today so I checked your schedule and printed your appointments for next week…”
Half an hour later Toni was literally exhausted, but her mood was surprisingly buoyant, especially given her initial concern over Cathy’s decision to put the short-term operation of the practice in Julie’s hands. As Julie’s mentor, Toni met with her weekly and they touched base daily, so Toni felt she knew her capabilities, as well as her limitations, better than Cathy. While Julie was proving herself a valuable asset, she still occasionally revealed the nervousness that plagued her early days at Cathy’s practice. Toni couldn’t count the number of times she had needed to calm a distraught Julie when Toni found an error in the accounts presented to her. Julie would invariably pale and then question her career choice, as she was obviously going to send every client into bankruptcy, or get them in strife with the tax department, or both. Over time, Julie’s confidence grew and her bursts of self-doubt became rare. Toni attributed a lot of Julie’s professional growth to her expert tutelage, but while her self-congratulatory pat on the back was not unwarranted, Toni also knew she wasn’t a miracle work
er. Less than eighteen months in the profession was an awfully short amount of time for someone to successfully take the reins of a busy accounting practice, albeit only for two to three weeks. Cathy had disagreed, arguing during a phone conversation that it was a real opportunity for Julie to prove herself. After all, Cathy had cleared almost everything on her own client list, leaving Toni with only a few outstanding items. Also, the temp she planned to hire could pick up most of Toni’s workload, especially if she managed to again obtain the services of Marian, who had filled Toni’s position for three months last year. Not too long after this conversation ended, Cathy called Toni again. She had contacted the temp agency and Marian was coming back on board. She couldn’t start until the following week but was available for the rest of the month if need be.
“Okay then.” Toni still wasn’t entirely convinced, but it was Cathy’s practice, and she could make whatever decisions she saw fit. Cathy wasn’t exactly short of money either, so as long as they kept the reputation of the practice intact she wasn’t going to worry over a few weeks’ worth of decreased revenue. “Do you want to tell Julie or shall I?”
“I’ll try ringing her now. Are you up to doing a bit of a handover with her?”
“Sure. Tell her she can call whenever she’s ready.”
Julie had phoned within the hour, and much to Toni’s surprise, she sounded more excited than nervous during the call. Cathy must have intimated that the offer was made at Toni’s suggestion as Julie thanked Toni for the opportunity at least four times and promised she would do everything possible to keep things running smoothly. It looked like Julie was going to live up to her promise. She had spent most of the day—Sunday—in the office, doing her own work to free up time during the week. During the handover, Toni watched for signs of panic as pages were filled with notes. However, if Julie’s insides were all aflutter, outwardly it didn’t show. Julie nodded as she wrote, occasionally interrupting to ask a question or to pause thoughtfully, pen tapping lightly against her cheek. When Toni eventually ran out of things to tell her, Julie had snapped her notebook closed, removed her glasses and smiled so easily one would think she’d been doing nothing more than writing the weekly grocery list. It took Toni a good moment to remember the woman was only twenty-two. She suddenly seemed a lot older.
“Thanks for all of this, Toni. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“I know you won’t.” Toni allowed herself to smile, surprised to discover she was telling the truth.
“I’ll probably have to call on you again. Maybe lots of times as things come up.”
“That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Fresh concern entered Julie’s tone and expression, “Are you going to be okay here by yourself? Shouldn’t you have someone to look after you?”
“I’m fine.” This time Toni told only a half-truth. Her mum had wanted to hop on the next plane from Melbourne as soon as she heard the news, but Toni had declined the offer. That had been on Friday night, when she felt sick but not too sick. Now she kind of wished she had said yes. She could do with a bit of mothering. “Mum offered to come over but she’d drive me mad after a day with the way she fusses…and I’ve had lots of people pop in…and Monica brought me a pot of chicken soup when she picked Virgil up from the vet.”
“But you haven’t had any of it, have you?”
“No.” Toni wondered how on earth Julie knew. Oh, dear, maybe she had empty-stomach bad breath. And here she’d been breathing all over the poor girl for the last half-hour. Toni covered her mouth with her hand.
Julie’s hands went to her hips. “Why not?”
Toni spoke through her hand. “I’m not hungry.”
“Toni,” Julie scolded. “You have to eat or you’ll end up even sicker.”
“I know. I will.” Toni half smiled through her hand. “Eat that is.”
“I’ll get you a bowl now.”
Without the energy to argue, and not wanting to blow more potentially bad breath in Julie’s direction, Toni just nodded. As soon as Julie turned for the kitchen, Toni cupped her hand and blew into it. Ee-eww! Normally a stickler for oral hygiene, Toni was mortified. She announced a need to go to bathroom, and as fast as her sore body would carry her, fled to the nearest bottle of mouthwash.
Five minutes later Toni had minty fresh breath. She also had a bowl of Monica’s chicken soup sitting in front of her, along with firm instructions to eat it. Despite the mouthwash somewhat tainting her chicken soup experience, in another twenty minutes there were only a few spoonfuls left in her bowl. Virgil had also been presented with an early dinner and a clean litter tray, and seed had been tossed over the fence for the rock doves. Julie returned to the lounge room. From the noises coming from the kitchen in the last few minutes, Toni assumed Julie had also taken out the trash and done the dishes left by the sink since the previous day. Again Toni was mortified. Julie had never visited her house before so wasn’t aware Toni didn’t normally live like a pig.
“Sorry the place is in such a mess,” Toni said by way of an apology. “It’s not usually like this.”
“Yeah, right.” Julie leaned over the back of the armchair she had previously sat on and retrieved her bag. “I’ve seen your desk at work, remember.”
Toni opened her mouth to retort. Her desk wasn’t that bad. She knew where everything was, even if it wasn’t as anally retentively organized as Julie’s and Cathy’s work spaces. Julie, however, didn’t give her the chance to argue. Her bag was slung over her shoulder and keys jangled in her hand.
“Okay, Toni, I’m heading off now. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow, to see if there’s anything you need me to bring over after work.”
It was on the tip of Toni’s tongue to say another visit wasn’t necessary, but the social side of her personality thrust itself forward. “Okay.”
Once alone, Toni arranged herself on the couch, finding that relatively pain-free position again. Her headache still lingered but her tummy was comfortably full.
She dozed.
Then she woke to a scuffing sound. It was Virgil’s cone collar knocking against a leg of the coffee table. Toni squinted and pretended she didn’t see the paw come up and pat on the tabletop until the new cloth ball fell to the floor. She also pretended not to see Virgil softly tap at the ball with her paws and begin chasing it around the room. She definitely didn’t acknowledge the warm, furry body that eventually settled itself at the far end of the couch, next to Toni’s feet. Inwardly, Toni smiled. She was on her way to being forgiven.
Chapter Eight
Julie kept her promise, ringing Toni often. Toni didn’t mind the calls. Not feeling well enough to do anything much for herself, even to read a book or flick through a magazine, the calls made a welcome distraction from days filled with nothing more than the drudgery of daytime television.
The first call had arrived Monday morning. Julie was gushingly apologetic. Apparently she’d been saving up her questions so she wouldn’t have to annoy Toni too often, but this particular query couldn’t wait. Toni quirked her eyebrows as she checked her watch. It had only just gone nine a.m. Julie must have been at the office at sparrow-fart to have already racked up a set of questions.
Julie rang six more times that day. On Tuesday she interrupted Toni’s television marathon five times; on Wednesday four times, but only twice on Thursday. Now it was Friday. Toni wondered how many calls she’d get today. If the pattern of the week was followed, she guessed only one.
Even if Julie’s calls were declining in frequency, her visits weren’t. She’d made an appearance every evening after work, each time toting something new to tempt Toni’s taste buds. Each time Toni would shake her head and say she wasn’t particularly hungry, but each time a plate would be placed in front of her anyway. And each time Toni surprised herself, her stomach growling at the sight of the food. It helped that every one of Julie’s choices were toward the top of Toni’s list of favorites. On Monday a Bento box of assorted sushi, miso soup
, tempura vegetables and chicken teriyaki appeared. Tuesday a creamy Malaysian curry with roti was on the menu. On Wednesday they shared a foot-long steak and cheese Subway sandwich, and the fridge was currently hiding the remains last night’s Chinese takeaway feast.
Julie’s visits did not comprise only a food courier service. The operation of the office and the string of clients who had come in that day dominated a good part of their dinner conversation. At these times Toni slipped into her mentor role, and if it weren’t for the fact Toni was in her pajamas and nibbling on delicious treats, their interactions would have been no different than mentoring sessions held over the past eighteen months. But unlike sessions held at the practice, once talk of work was done, instead of Toni or Julie retreating to their own space, they moved onto topics that lay beyond account balances and taxation law.
During the course of these conversations Toni found herself wondering what had caused the change. Had Cathy been right? Had handing the reins to Julie been the catalyst to drawing her out of her shell? Or maybe it was the change in scenery. Maybe, out of the office environment, Julie felt more comfortable with Toni. After all it would be hard to feel threatened by anyone donned in flannelette pajamas sporting a Tigger print.
Whatever it was, Toni was glad of the change, discovering a Julie she had not known existed. More than once Toni wondered at how she had spent eighteen months with no real notion of the personality that lived behind the quiet, soft-spoken and sometimes nervous employee that fronted for work each day. Toni admitted it was because she had never really bothered finding out. Even when Julie attended Friday afternoon drinks, she usually sat quietly listening to the banter between Cathy, Toni and Sue, her interjections rare and seemingly well considered.
