Call Waiting

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Call Waiting Page 32

by Dianne Blacklock


  “It’ll be alright, Ally,” said Nic, pushing her back down onto the stool. “We’ll just pull it back, sleek…”

  “Slick, you mean.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll look fine.”

  * * *

  It didn’t look fine, it looked ridiculous. But it just went with the rest of her. Ally stood at the front door of Frances Callen’s house, in uncomfortable shoes, an ill-fitting suit and slicked-back hair pulled into a bulky ponytail. So far the whole exercise was turning into a disaster.

  She rang the doorbell again and checked her watch. Why wasn’t she answering? God, there was probably war declared in some Balkan country somewhere, and Frances had been called off to report on it. That would be just Ally’s luck.

  “Ms. Tasker?”

  She looked around. Frances Callen stood in the driveway, wearing a loose old jumper, khaki pants and gumboots. Bugger.

  “It is you, Ally?”

  She roused herself. “Yes, it’s me. And it’s you! I mean, I knew it was you, because I’ve seen you before. Of course, everyone’s seen you before so you don’t need to introduce yourself really, do you? Whereas me, well, you wouldn’t necessarily know me.”

  Shut up. Right now. Not another word.

  Frances looked momentarily nonplussed, but she smiled broadly and walked toward Ally with her hand outstretched.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Thanks so much for seeing me. I love your work.”

  Ally shook hands with her. “Likewise!”

  Likewise? As if interviewing the US Secretary of State was the same as painting a frigging wall.

  “Do you mind coming around the back? I don’t like to go through the front in these boots.”

  “Sure,” Ally said, following her around the corner of the house.

  “Have I caught you on the hop?” Frances asked.

  “Sorry?”

  “You have an appointment after this?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, it’s just that you’re all dressed up. I thought you’d be in overalls.”

  “Oh, you mean an appointment?” Ally exclaimed. “Yes, I have an appointment, with the accountant, you know. I thought you were asking if I had an appointment with another client. Which I don’t, of course, because then I would be wearing overalls, naturally.”

  Oh, shut up Ally!

  At the back of the house there was a vestibule area where Frances pulled off her boots, turning them upside down and propping them on a stand. Ally inspected her own shoes.

  “Oh, you’ve got mud on your good shoes. I should have warned you.”

  “It’s alright,” said Ally, slipping them off, “if you don’t mind my stockinged feet.”

  She followed Frances into a large eat-in kitchen area. It was standard country style, quite pleasant, if a little unimaginative.

  “We’re here most weekends, and at least part of the school holidays,” Frances explained. “We’ve had the place for two years, and I’ve wanted to do something with it from the start. It’s hard though, when you’re not here all the time.”

  “And when everything is so safe?”

  “Exactly.”

  It was a typical Federation era house which had been typically renovated, probably a few years ago. The kitchen and bathroom had been made over, the floors were all stripped and the walls painted cream, right throughout the house. There was nothing exactly wrong, in fact the rooms were elegantly proportioned and most of the original detail was still intact. It just all looked like a display home; there was no personality.

  Frances showed her down a spacious hall into the children’s room. There were twin beds, bedside tables and a built-in cupboard. Not very inspiring.

  “We have two girls, nearly two years apart,” Frances told her. “They have their own rooms at home of course, but we thought we’d get them to share down here. I think it came from some idea in a parenting book, but it also frees up another room for guests.”

  “Do they like fairies or pop stars?”

  Frances grinned. “Would you believe they are total opposites? One refuses to wear a dress, the other won’t get out of one.”

  “Sounds pretty normal to me.”

  “Well, this is your challenge, ‘should you decide to accept it,’” she quipped. “I figured it doesn’t take as much courage to be adventurous in a kids’ room…”

  “Oh, I don’t mind being adventurous,” Ally assured her.

  “I realize that! It’s me! After the girls’ room, we can work through the guestrooms, our bedroom, and by then I’ll be game enough to try anything in the living rooms.”

  Ally smiled. “So I shouldn’t tell you any of my immediate ideas?”

  “Ooh, tempting … Give me a hint.”

  “Well, I’m thinking a burnt orange feature wall in the living room…”

  “Okay, stop,” she laughed. “I’d better work up to that.”

  They walked back up the hall.

  “I’d like to meet the girls, talk to them about what they’d like.”

  “They’ll be at total odds with each other.”

  “There are ways of making that work,” Ally assured her.

  “If you can make them both happy, then you really are a genius.”

  They came into the kitchen. “So what’s your schedule like?”

  “Pardon?”

  “How long before you can fit us in?”

  “Um, well,” Ally hesitated. “I’ll have to look into that.”

  “I see, of course,” Frances paused. “And I have something else I have to ask. This might affect when you can fit us in as well, but I don’t care, I’m prepared to wait.”

  Ally wondered what she was talking about.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m being pushy, but how closely do you work with your team?”

  “My team?”

  “Well, Nicola told me you were very hands-on with the restaurant project, but I understand you wouldn’t always have the time for much personal involvement. But I really want you. I don’t mind paying for the privilege.”

  Ally stared at her dumbfounded.

  “Have I put you on the spot?”

  Ally released a sigh, and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, I can’t do this!”

  “What? What’s the matter?”

  “I’m a big fraud.”

  “What do you mean? You didn’t do the restaurant?”

  “Oh sure, I did that. But I can’t do this.”

  “This house? I would have thought it was nothing compared to that whole restaurant.”

  “It’s not that. I don’t have a team, I don’t have a schedule, I don’t have a business. It’s just me. And you. You’re my business.”

  Frances looked at her, a smile slowly breaking on her lips.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee, Ally?”

  * * *

  They sat nursing mugs on an overstuffed sofa in the family room. Ally had taken off her jacket and curled her legs up underneath her.

  “So I was sitting there,” Frances was saying, “in my neat little suit, with my dictaphone on the table and my notepad in my hand, interviewing the Attorney-General, and I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.”

  “But how did you interview him? You had to ask questions.”

  “Oh sure, I said things like, ‘Very interesting, do you have anything further to add to that?’ Or, ‘And is that the official government stance on the issue?’ He looked at me a little oddly at times. But I got through it.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I just kept thinking, it’s all being recorded, I can ask someone back at the office to explain it to me.” She paused, shaking her head. “Of course, when I got back to the office, I realized there was nothing on the tape, I had forgotten to turn it on.”

  They both collapsed into laughter.

  “Ally, the point is, we’re all frauds,” Frances said eventually. “I don’t think we ever get over that feeling that someone is going to find us out one da
y.”

  “But you must eventually feel confident in your own ability? I mean, with all the success you’ve had, the awards?”

  “Still, whenever I arrive at Parliament House, or I’m about to interview the PM, I think someone’s going to stop me and say, ‘What do you think you’re doing here, Fran?’”

  “But you had training, a degree. That makes you bona fide.”

  “It took me a long time of walking the walk and talking the talk before I believed I was actually a bona fide journalist. The piece of paper didn’t do it for me,” Frances confided. “Ally, there’s no question about your ability, the evidence is physically there on the walls of that restaurant. You don’t need a piece of paper to prove that.”

  Ally contemplated what she was saying.

  “What it all comes down to in the end,” Frances said, breaking into her reverie, “is whether you like what you’re doing. Do you?”

  “I do, I love it.”

  “Why?”

  Ally thought for a moment. “I can walk into a really ugly room, or it might be rundown, or maybe just very ordinary…”

  “Like this place,” Fran nodded.

  “But I see something else entirely. I wonder why no one else can see it. But they can’t. So I set to work, and I get completely lost in it, for days. I lose all sense of time.”

  Frances was listening.

  “Then when I’m finished, and people see it, they think it’s beautiful, and it makes them happy. And I realize, I did that! That’s what I like the best.”

  Frances smiled at her. “Then you don’t even have to think twice.”

  Friday

  Ally dialed Matt’s number and waited. He should be home by now, she couldn’t get him on his mobile. He usually switched it off when he was finished for the day.

  “Hello?” said a young, female voice.

  “Hello Beck? It’s Ally here.”

  “Oh hi, Ally!” she said brightly.

  “Staying with your father this weekend?”

  “Yes, we’ve just been to see the restaurant. It looks fantastic.”

  “Your dad’s a clever man.”

  “But the colors and everything, Ally—you’re pretty clever as well. You and my dad make a great team.”

  Funny she should say that. “Thanks Beck. Actually, is he there? I was hoping to have a quick word with him.”

  “Sure, I’ll put him on,” she replied. “Maybe we’ll see you this weekend?”

  “Maybe.”

  Matt’s voice came onto the line. “Hi Ally, what’s up?”

  “Well, you know how I was going to see Frances Callen yesterday?”

  “Mm.”

  “It’s an old house, 1890s probably, maybe a little later. Anyway, there’s rot in some of the windows, double hung, a lot like the windows you fixed at Birchgrove.”

  “Mm…”

  “So, she’s getting me to do up a few of the rooms, and the windows really need to be repaired before I can paint them.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Are you still there, Matt?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I told her that I know someone who does that kind of work and that I could arrange it.”

  “I see.”

  “Well, are you interested or not?” said Ally, frustrated.

  “In what?”

  “In the job?”

  “Fixing the windows?”

  “Yes!”

  “You trust me?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Gee, even though I don’t know much about anything?”

  So that’s what all this was about. “Oh, okay Matt. You win. Why do you always have to score points with me?”

  He laughed loudly. “Haven’t you got that the wrong way around?”

  Ally sighed. “Alright Matt, I’m sorry if I didn’t listen to all your worldly advice. I have to make some decisions for myself sometimes, you know.”

  “Mmm, and so how did the outfit work out, and the hairstyle?”

  “Nic’s been talking to you.”

  “She gave us all a good laugh yesterday afternoon,” he chuckled.

  “Well, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying yourselves at my expense.” Ally felt hurt. She knew she’d made a fool of herself, but didn’t they realize how hard this had been for her? And now she needed to ask Matt for help. She couldn’t do it if he was going to make it difficult. “I’m sorry I bothered you…”

  “Ally, don’t hang up. I didn’t mean anything.”

  She was silent.

  “Ally?”

  “I thought I’d get a little support from my so-called friends.”

  “I’m sorry, Ally. I would love to sub for you.”

  “What?”

  “Sub, subcontract. That’s what you’re asking me to do.”

  “Oh. You’d be my subbie?”

  “And you could be mine, if you’re really serious about all this?”

  “I am, I really am.”

  “Righto then. It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.”

  Call waiting beeps came onto the line.

  “Is that me or you?” Ally asked.

  “It’s you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know how to do this!”

  “Just hang up and your phone will start to ring,” Matt explained calmly.

  “Okay, bye. Thanks!” Ally pressed ‘end’ on her phone and it started ringing almost immediately.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Ally, it’s Meg.”

  “Hi, how are you?”

  “Um, okay. How are you?”

  “Well, actually, I’m great.”

  “Oh?”

  Ally started to recount her news, but after a while she sensed that Meg was distracted, not really taking it in. Normally she would have been much more excited for her.

  “Anyway, that’s enough about me. How’s everything with you, Meg?”

  “Good. Fine, really.”

  “Okay,” Ally said slowly. Meg had a strange tone in her voice. Something was definitely up.

  “I want to ask you a favor,” she said nervously.

  “Sure, anything.”

  Meg breathed out heavily. “I don’t know if you’ll feel that way once you hear what it is.”

  “Meg, come on, we’re best friends. You can ask me anything.”

  That’s what she was counting on. “I’m going away next weekend, and…” She hesitated.

  “Go on,” Ally urged.

  “If Chris was to call, well, he thinks I’m going to be with you.”

  Ally was confused. “What are you talking about? I’m not following you.”

  Meg took another deep breath. “I’m going away next weekend, and I’ve told Chris that I’m visiting you.”

  Ally realized now. “But you’re not, I presume.”

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me where you’ll be?” She didn’t have to ask who Meg would be with. What was his name again? For some reason, Junior was all that would come to mind.

  “It’s better if you don’t know too many details,” Meg was saying. “You’ll be able to get in touch with me on my mobile.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Meg sighed. “I have to get it out of my system, Ally. I think I ended things too quickly.”

  “But Meg—”

  “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. I’m just asking you to cover for me.”

  Ally paused. Meg was her friend, she had to support her, even if she thought she was making a mistake. “Okay, Meg. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “You’ll have to trust me on that.”

  Imagine!

  “Meg?”

  She jumped. “Oh, Simon, you gave me a fright.”

  “Sorry.” He was standing on the other side of her desk. “I knocked, but you were in la-la land.”

  She’d been there a lot lately. She alternated between vague and jittery. They were going away this weekend and Meg felt like a crimina
l on the run. She was sure someone was going to discover her.

  “Sorry Simon, what can I do for you?”

  He frowned down at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure I’m okay. I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be fine?”

  “If you say so,” he said, a quizzical expression on his face. “I just wanted to check when you scheduled that meeting.”

  “What meeting?”

  “The progress meeting for the team working on the Belva campaign.”

  She stared blankly up at him.

  “Remember, I asked you to let me know,” he said slowly, watching the bafflement on her face, “so I could sit in on it? We talked about it on Monday, after the presentation.”

  Something clicked. “Oh shit, Simon!” Meg exclaimed, standing up. “I’m sorry. I mustn’t have written it down.” She flicked through her desk calendar. “Oh, there it is,” she said, perplexed. “I did write it down.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Simon asked her, obviously concerned. “It’s not like you to forget something.”

  She sighed. “I haven’t been sleeping all that well lately.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” she said defensively. “It doesn’t mean there has to be something wrong.”

  Simon was frowning at her.

  “It’s probably early menopause. I’ve heard you can suffer memory loss.”

  “You’re too young for that!” he scoffed. “I think you need a break. Have you and Chris organized that holiday yet?”

  “We’ve finally booked for October, that’s if his boss doesn’t put it back again.”

  “October—that’s still a while off.”

  “Well don’t worry, I’m going away this weekend.”

  “Oh great. Where are you off to?”

  She dropped her gaze. She couldn’t look at him while she lied. “I’m going to see Ally.”

  “On your own?”

  She nodded.

  “Well I don’t see that being much of a rest. I know what you two are like when you get together. You’ll be up till three in the morning drinking.”

  Meg smiled awkwardly. She didn’t want to keep talking about it. “I’ll go and schedule that meeting right away. I’m sorry about that, Simon.”

  “It’s okay. You’re allowed a slip up now and then.”

  Saturday

  “Just here will be fine,” Meg said to the driver. He pulled over and she paid the fare, picked up her bag and stepped out of the taxi.

 

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