Call Waiting

by Dianne Blacklock

  After nearly an hour they came out of the cover of a grove of trees and the whole coastline opened up, stretching southward before them. Meg gasped. The escarpment stepped down to meet the ocean, undulating around secluded coves. It was breathtaking.

  Jamie slowed right down, and for the first time Meg was not conscious of the bike. As they drew closer to the headland, she spotted a hang-glider up in the air, and then another and another. Their pastel colored wings were like so many butterflies dancing in the wind. She was enchanted.

  They turned into the parking area right on the headland. It was filled with cars and people. There was an ice-cream van, and various other vehicles, all advertising paragliding and hang-gliding lessons, or tandem flights. They pulled into a parking spot and Jamie switched off the engine. Meg climbed off the bike and removed her helmet, shaking out her hair. She stretched and yawned, looking up to the sky.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s spectacular.” Then Meg eyed him suspiciously. “You haven’t got any more surprises up your sleeve, have you? Because you’re dreaming if you think I’m going up on one of those.”

  Jamie laughed, shaking his head. “I told you I wouldn’t make you jump off anything. So what about the bike?”

  “What about it?”

  “You made it all the way here. That’s pretty good going. Was it as bad as you thought?”

  “Worse,” she returned flatly.

  “Ah, come on.”

  “There were occasional moments of not bad.”

  They found a grassy spot to sit, out of the way of the take-off area. Meg watched, fascinated, as two men held a hang-glider steady, while a third harnessed himself in.

  “Tempted?” Jamie said after a while.

  “Not even vaguely,” she returned. “Look, he’s strapping himself to a kite made of tracksuit material, for godsake!”

  “There’s a little more to them than that, Meg.”

  She looked at him doubtfully. They watched as the man, obviously ready, nodded to the other two, and they tilted the glider slightly back so that the wind would pick it up. The man in the harness stepped forward, off the cliff. Meg held her breath as he dropped momentarily before the wind lifted him into the sky.

  “Now that’s the part I could never do.”

  “What?”

  “Just walk off a cliff! How does anyone do that? I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to take the first step.”

  “Maybe you have already.”

  She looked at him.

  “You got on a motorbike today.”

  Meg grimaced. “Why did you have to remind me of that? I’ve got to get back on it eventually, haven’t I?”

  “It’s a long walk otherwise,” he smiled. “At least you can mark it off your list.”

  “It was never on my list, I assure you.”

  “Then maybe you can make another list—‘things I thought I’d never do.’”

  Yes, and she could add skipping work, lying to her husband and taking off for the day with a virtual stranger.

  “Look how far he’s going.” Jamie was pointing south across the escarpment toward a stray glider that was rapidly becoming a mere dot in the sky.

  He looked around at her. “You want to follow him?”

  Meg winced. “Get back on the bike?”

  “Don’t think about it, Meg. You think too much.” He jumped to his feet and put his hand out to help her up. “Just do it!”

  She hesitated for a moment before putting her hand in his.

  Meg realized she should have thought about it for longer, as they barrelled down the hill giving chase to the rogue hang-glider. They passed a couple of small townships before rounding a tight bend that jutted out over the ocean. The road ahead was all curves, hugging the cliff, the ocean dropping away to their left. Meg opened her eyes briefly to see waves crashing just below them as they veered around another sharp curve, all the while picking up speed. She could hear screaming, and then she realized it was her own voice. She hung onto to Jamie like a monkey clinging to his back. She didn’t care if she did break a rib. It would serve him right.

  The road straightened out and became wider, and Jamie slowed down, eventually stopping in front of an old pub perched on the side of the cliff overlooking the ocean.

  Meg climbed off first, pulling off her helmet. “You could have warned me about that road!”

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “But you made it.”

  She just glared at him. “Do we have to go back that way?”

  “No, we can meet up with the freeway a little farther on,” he reassured her. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “And some lunch,” she added, checking her watch. “I’m starving.”

  They sat out on an open deck that appeared to be suspended above the ocean. Meg sipped her wine gazing out at the expanse of blue to the horizon. At least Jamie had a knack for picking places that made her feel a long way from everything. Maybe even a little bit free.

  “Where did you say you were going today?” he asked suddenly.

  Meg grimaced. She wasn’t free at all. “Scouting locations.”

  He nodded absently. Then he leaned forward, claiming her attention from the view. “What’s your husband like?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m just wondering if he’s the arrogant type who puts you down, or the workaholic who ignores you, or the bastard that cheats on you.”

  Meg breathed out heavily. “No, he’s the decent, trusting type, who would do anything for me.”

  Jamie looked at her. “So why do you keep coming out with me?”

  “Why do you keep asking?”

  “I told you, I like your face.”

  A waiter arrived with their lunch—huge open burgers, buried under a mound of chips. Meg tucked into hers hungrily, hoping Jamie would abandon this line of questioning.

  “You haven’t answered me,” he said.

  No such luck.

  “I’ve forgotten—what did you ask?”

  “I guess, under the circumstances,” he said lifting an eyebrow, “I thought you’d be complaining about your husband, that he doesn’t pay you enough attention or something. But you don’t talk about him at all.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable talking about him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s none of those things you said.”

  “So, I’ll repeat the question, why did come out with me?”

  “Maybe I like your face, too.”

  Jamie grinned. “Okay, so you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Let me ask you something instead,” said Meg, taking the opportunity to change the subject. “How old are you?”

  “Why do you need to know that?”

  She groaned. “Don’t make riddles. I’m interested, that’s all.”

  “It shouldn’t matter. People make judgments on irrelevancies like your age, or your star sign. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Meg crossed her arms. “Well, maybe it doesn’t. But I reckon I’ve been a good sport coming all this way on the back of a motorbike, the least you can do is tell me a bit about yourself!”

  Jamie leaned forward across the table. “Okay, if it’ll make you happy, I was thirty-one on the eighteenth of December last year which, I’m told, makes me a Sagittarius.”

  “Thank you.” Meg breathed a sigh of relief. He was in his thirties, barely. She was only a little pathetic. She bit into a chip.

  “What about you?”

  Meg looked across at him, frowning.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m a Virgo. That’s all you need to know.”

  Jamie started to laugh. “You’re a funny chick.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  The wine obviously helped relax her. Meg realized she was probably a bit tipsy by the time she climbed onto the bike for the return trip. She found herself settling comfortably into Jamie’s back, her arms tucked around him firmly,
but not too tight now. She rested her head against his shoulder.

  They stopped again for coffee about halfway, and that woke her up. The rest of the trip was slower, as they hit the afternoon traffic in the suburbs. They pulled into the supercenter at about five.

  Meg climbed off the bike and handed Jamie the helmet. She took off the jacket, and Jamie fished hers out of the bag. Meg reached into the pocket for her car keys.

  “Did you have a good day?” he asked.

  “It was different.”

  “Is different good?”

  She nodded. “I suppose so.”

  Unexpectedly, Jamie reached his hand over and stroked her cheek. “Your skin’s all flushed. Must be the fresh air.”

  “Must be.”

  He was staring at her, Meg didn’t know where to look. He took a step closer and before she realized what he was doing, his lips were on hers. It was a gentle kiss, but lingering. His hand was still on her cheek, but they stood apart, only joined at the lips. For a moment she forgot where she was, who she was.

  Then he pulled away.

  “Bye Meg,” he said, replacing his helmet. He climbed onto the bike and started the engine. She stood, not moving, until he rode away, disappearing out through the exit with a brief wave.

  Meg stirred, looking around to see if anyone was watching her. She unlocked the car and got in. Adjusting the rear-view mirror, she caught sight of her reflection. Her skin was flushed, like Jamie said. She touched her fingers to her lips for a moment before starting up the engine and driving away.

  Birchgrove

  “How’s your friend Meg? Have you talked to her lately?”

  Nic was packing her bags. She had finished her last shift at Birchgrove the night before. The restaurant was not opening again until next Friday, with the new owners in place. Rob and Nic had both found jobs at Milford Park, a huge tourist resort on the outskirts of Bowral. So Nic was moving into Rob’s bed-sitter, the glorified shoebox, as she liked to refer to it. She claimed it was so tiny they were going to have to synchronize their breathing, one exhaling while the other inhaled, when they were both home at the same time.

  “Meg’s okay.” Ally shrugged. She had made a point of phoning her more often, to keep in touch. “She seemed a bit brighter when I spoke to her yesterday.”

  Nic had joined them on the second night of Meg’s stay. They had ordered pizza in and hit the wine heavily again. Meg went on and on about her terrible, perfect life. Ally was glad that someone else had been around as a buffer.

  “So what’s her husband like?” Nic asked. “Is he that bad?”

  “He’s not bad at all. I don’t know what she’s complaining about.”

  “Well, she didn’t actually say he was bad, just boring.”

  Ally thought for a moment. “Chris is a really sweet, lovely guy. But…”

  “But what?”

  “He’d do anything for her. Really, anything.” She paused. “But sometimes Meg can be, well, a bit demanding. I mean, she’s so driven and efficient, she expects everyone to be the same.”

  “So what’s your point?”

  “Well, like I said, Chris is lovely … but sometimes I used to think, why don’t you just say no?”

  “To what?”

  “Anything! Just say no, bugger off, I don’t feel like it. I don’t agree. Something other than yes Meg, three bags full Meg.”

  Nic paused, nodding sagely. “Mm, the SNAG dilemma.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Women dream of having a Sensitive New Age Guy until they get one, and then they fantasize about Mr. Chiseled Jaw from Mills and Boon land.”

  Ally screwed up her nose. “The arrogant, brooding type? No thanks.” She fell onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  “I couldn’t stand a man who was demanding or self-absorbed,” she continued. “But that doesn’t mean I’d prefer someone who’d just fall into line with everything I wanted either. You know, I whistle and he jumps.” Ally shuddered. “No, I’d like someone who was strong and confident in himself, but sensitive to my needs.”

  “Oh, okay, Mr. Perfect,” Nic quipped. “God, no wonder you’re still single!”

  Ally looked at her.

  Nic covered her face with the shirt she was folding. “Sorry, I can’t believe I said that.”

  She sighed. “Don’t worry about it. You’re probably right.”

  Nic peeked out from behind the shirt. “Oh?”

  “Maybe I am aiming too high.”

  “Mm. Well, from my experience, people who set unrealistic goals usually don’t want to achieve them.”

  The phone started ringing.

  “Ah-hah! Saved by the bell!” Ally grinned as Nic reached to answer it.

  “It’s for you,” she said a moment later, handing it to Ally.

  She sat up. “Hello?”

  “Ally, Bob Burton here.” It was the real estate agent. “I may have some good news for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a very keen buyer. Your property is apparently exactly what he’s been looking for.”

  “It is?” she said dubiously.

  “Well, he hasn’t seen it yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I sent him a flyer, with that rather flattering shot we took, remember? I told him it was about to come onto the market, that always piques their interest.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Well, like I said, it’s what he’s been looking for. So how are the repairs going?”

  “Oh God, I don’t even know. I’ve been so busy I haven’t been down there in weeks.”

  “Well, you’d best go check it out today. Sweep the floors, open a few windows to air the place out; fresh flowers help too.”

  Ally had a sinking feeling that wasn’t going to be anywhere near enough.

  “What’s going on?” Nic asked when she hung up the phone.

  “Someone’s interested in looking at the property.”

  “Brilliant!”

  “I don’t know,” Ally said doubtfully. “I haven’t seen Matt for a while. I don’t even know if he’s had the chance to get any of the work done.” She paused, her anxiety building. “Have you got his number?”

  Nic fished around in her handbag and drew out a small address book. She read the number out as Ally dialed.

  “That’s his home phone number? Maybe I should call his mobile?”

  “You can try that next,” Nic said calmly. “Stop stressing.”

  His voice came onto the line. “Hello?”

  “Matt? I’m glad I caught you,” Ally said breathlessly.

  “Is that you, Ally?”

  “Yes, I just got a call from Bob, and he said someone is coming to look at the property—”

  “Bob Burton?”

  “Yes!” she said, her tone impatient. Who else did he think she meant? “He said someone is coming tomorrow who’s really interested and that I should go down and make sure everything’s in order.”

  “Right…” he stretched the word out slowly.

  “So you’ll meet me down there?”

  “Pardon?”

  He was acting incredibly vague, Ally thought, her irritation growing. “I’m leaving straightaway. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

  “You want me to come down to Circle’s End?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right now?”

  “Well, yes!” What was so hard to follow? “We’ve only got the rest of the day, and into the night, I guess, if we need it.”

  “I can’t come today.”

  “What, why not?”

  She thought she heard a sigh. “Because I have plans, Ally.”

  “Well this is important!” Ally insisted. “You can’t just leave me in the lurch like this!”

  “Why do you think I’m leaving you in the lurch?”

  “Well whatever you’re doing is obviously more important than helping me out,” she said shrilly. “And you were the one that offered to help me in the first pla
ce. I should have paid you, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I wanted to pay you, remember? But you wouldn’t take it, and now that means you can just say no, you’re under no obligation. But in the meantime, I’m screwed!”

  “Ally, you haven’t been near the place in weeks.”

  “I’ve been busy—”

  “And I’m busy today. Goodbye, Ally.”

  “He hung up!” Ally said to Nic, mystified.

  “I wonder why?”

  “Shit! Now what am I going to do?”

  “Well, take some lessons in tact and diplomacy for starters.”

  “Why, what did I do wrong?”

  “You should have heard yourself!”

  “Well you should have heard him,” Ally said defensively. “He just said ‘no.’ Calm as you please.”

  “Sounds like your ideal man.”

  “What?”

  “You know, the one who doesn’t just jump because you whistle,” Nic grinned.

  Ally glared at her, “That’s an entirely different thing. What am I going to do?”

  “Calm down, Ally. It’s not as if he could have done much in half a day anyway. Look, I’ll come with you, we’ll clean the place up, put lots of fresh flowers around…”

  “That’s what Bob said,” Ally sighed gloomily.

  “There you go! Everything will turn out alright, you’ll see.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later they were on the way to Kangaroo Valley, the car laden with vases and tablecloths, and about four tubs of flowers, after a frantic call to a friend of Nic’s who ran the local florist. They headed out of Bowral along Sheepwash Road, toward Avoca.

  “Doesn’t Matt live along here somewhere?” Nic remarked idly.

  Ally grunted.

  “Do you know whereabouts?”

  She shook her head. “I bet he’d drop everything for Miss Queensland. In fact, that’s probably why he’s busy today,” she muttered, thinking aloud.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Who’s Miss Queensland?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing, never mind.”

  * * *

  When they pulled up outside the barn, Nic let out a squeal.

  “This is classic!”

  “You reckon?” Ally frowned.

  “Come on, let’s unload the car.”

  “I’ll go and open up.”