Head Over Heels

by Felicity Price

  ‘Dad is. He’s drowning his sorrows.’

  ‘I guess he’s allowed to do that, today of all days,’ Steve said, continuing to stare at me.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ I asked him.

  ‘I’ve just noticed how stunning you’re looking these days,’ he smirked, coming up and giving me a proprietorial hug. ‘That holiday has transformed you into one hot, sexy babe.’

  ‘Steve, for heaven’s sake, you’re talking nonsense.’

  ‘No I’m not. I’ve never spoken a truer word.’ He held out his empty hands and shrugged. ‘Look, I’m not even drinking. I’m dead sober and dead serious.’

  ‘He’s dead right, Penny,’ Stephanie said. ‘Much as I hate to side with Steve, he’s right on the mark. You’re looking great these days. You’ve lost heaps of weight, you’ve got a terrific tan and you even look younger, you cow. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?’

  ‘Can’t say I have, really,’ I said, thinking back. Sure, I’d noticed my jeans weren’t so tight to do up, but I’d not had time to give it much thought. Maybe when Simon had picked up his stomach bug in those azure waters, I’d picked up some of Cleopatra’s allure. Whatever had happened, it had proven to be the break I had needed. And it had broken some bad old habits, like eating too much, and started some good new ones, like exercising.

  ‘Must be the Mediterranean diet,’ Stephanie chuckled, poking me in the ribs. ‘Hey, there’s a ribcage there. Must be a while since you could feel a ribcage.’ She poked me again.

  ‘Hey, watch it.’ I pulled her hand away and had a poke myself. She was right: I could feel my ribs. I laughed self-deprecatingly, looking down at myself, expecting to see the usual flabby midriff. But it had somehow disappeared without me realising, without even a sad farewell.

  ‘See, I told you, Penny. You’re hot!’ Steve was looking at me in a way I’d wished he’d looked at me a year or two ago. But he was too late. I no longer gave a damn. I realised with a jolt of pleasure that I was, at last, well and truly over him.

  There was a loud knock on the front door.

  ‘I told people not to knock, just to come in,’ I said, going to answer it, somewhat relieved to have an excuse to get away from Steve’s lascivious gaze.

  ‘Mrs O’Neill?’ There was a young fellow standing on the doorstep. He had an alarmingly spotty face and looked only a year or two older than Adam.

  ‘Er, yes,’ I said, suspecting it wasn’t the time to insist on my proper name.

  ‘I’m David O’Malley from the Daily News, and I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time, please?’

  ‘Really?’ My suspicions were immediately aroused. ‘What do you want to know?’

  My mind whirred back through some of the more recent client crises I’d had to deal with, the library being uppermost in my mind. Then a sinking feeling in my stomach reminded me there’d been a few family crises as well.

  ‘We’ve had a call about someone hacking into the computer at the school your son attends, Mrs O’Neill. In fact, the caller said that it was your son that did the hacking.’

  ‘Really?’ I could feel my pulse start racing, my heart sink several inches lower and adrenalin starting to race up to my brain.

  ‘Yes. We’d like to talk to him about it, please.’

  ‘Really?’ I realised I was starting to sound like a cracked record, which wasn’t a bad thing under the circumstances. I frantically tried to think what I’d advise my clients to do under these circumstances — advice I handed out all the time, almost instinctively. But nothing was forthcoming. Stephanie was right, I’d had far too much to drink. I’d been so busy celebrating the various averted crises facing Dad, Stephanie, Charlotte and Adam that I was totally unprepared for one of the aforementioned crises jumping up and biting me in the bum. And I was especially unprepared for the bum-biter to be such a callow youth who didn’t look old enough to be out of journalism school.

  ‘Is he home?’

  The direct question spurred my poor befuddled brain into fight mode. And in the process I broke every rule in the crisis-communication handbook.

  ‘Er, no. He’s not available, I’m afraid. As you can hear, there are a lot of people here at the moment. It’s a wake. Adam’s much-loved grandmother has just died. Suddenly. He’s absolutely devastated.’ I drew breath.

  ‘That probably doesn’t mean a thing to vultures like you who like to chase after people who’ve lost a loved one and ask them how they’re feeling in the hope that they’ll break down and cry and you can take a picture of it.’ I was warming to my speech now, totally heedless of the consequences. ‘But I’m not falling for that ploy. So you’ll just have to report that he refused to comment. Say what you like. You will anyway.’

  ‘But …’

  I shut the door on him, leaving him opening and closing his mouth like a guppy. A spotted guppy, no less. That struck me as very funny for some reason, and I got the giggles.

  ‘A spotted guppy,’ I said to Stephanie back in the kitchen, in between bouts of laughter. ‘That was a spotted guppy at the door.’

  ‘I knew it. You’re totally shickered.’ She took my arm and led me over to the coffee urn that Tamsin had bubbling away on the bench. ‘Here, have some coffee. Now!’ She poured me a black coffee and added some cold water. ‘Drink!’

  I pulled a face but drank it nevertheless.

  ‘Now, tell me again. Who was at the door?’

  So I told her. She blanched.

  ‘Thank God they weren’t looking for me,’ she said. ‘I’ve had it with the media. I’m totally over them.’

  I told her what I said.

  ‘I don’t believe it. That’s the sort of thing you always tell me not to say.’

  ‘I know,’ I groaned. ‘I don’t know what came over me. I just lost it.’

  ‘Must be all those years of pent-up restraint. All those years of not telling them what you really think of them.’ She gave me a wicked grin. ‘Do you feel any better?’

  ‘It felt bloody good at the time,’ I grinned back. ‘But I’m having terrible regrets now. God knows what he’ll write.’

  ‘God knows what he’ll think with all the craziness around here,’ Stephanie said, laughing. ‘The bagpipes wailing in the garden, the dog howling back at them, three girls running around eating everything they can get their hands on and you tottering about, three sheets to the wind.’

  ‘He’ll probably ring up the loony bin and ask to have us all committed,’ I said. Again, I found this totally hilarious and fell about laughing. ‘I can see the headline now: “Drugs and booze fuel hacker’s suburban orgy”.’

  ‘Hey, Penny, enough,’ Stephanie grabbed hold of my arm and pointed at the French doors. ‘Look at Simon. He doesn’t look too good.’

  She was right. Simon looked terrible. He was coming in from outside, clutching his tummy. I thrust my glass onto the bench and ran in his direction.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m sorry Penny, but I …’ He took off in the direction of the downstairs loo and within seconds I heard the unmistakeable sound of a man tossing his cookies. I only hoped he’d got to the toilet in time.

  I was wrong. There was a trail of it starting at the kitchen door and dribbling through the washhouse to the loo. Loud groans were being emitted from within.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up,’ Jenn said calmly, surveying the damage. ‘It’s nothing to some of the parties Mikey has back home.’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ I said determinedly. ‘I’ll handle this.’

  ‘Well, you’d better be quick,’ she said, indicating a blur of golden fur fast approaching.

  ‘Oh God, that dog has to go,’ I groaned as I dashed to the laundry cupboard and grabbed a bucket and mop. ‘You hold Tigger, I’ll get rid of the mess.’

  Jenn obligingly grabbed Tigger by his collar and steered him in the direction of the dog door. I filled the bucket, tossed in some disinfectant and started to mop up the evidence. />
  ‘Oh, Penny, I’m so sorry,’ Simon said, coming out of the toilet. ‘It seems to strike with no warning.’

  ‘I thought you were getting over it.’

  ‘I didn’t like to worry you. You’ve been so busy since you got home.’

  ‘I should have been bringing you steaming hot broths and cold compresses. Or whatever you’re supposed to do to give succour to the sick.’

  He winced. ‘I haven’t been able to face anything at all these past few days, not even soup. That’s why I’ve been staying away. I’ve been very bad company I’m afraid, thinking of no one but myself, keeping to myself. I haven’t a clue what’s been going on in the world. I know I haven’t been much use to you at all in your time of great need. And now I’ve made an idiot of myself at your mother’s funeral party. I’m sorry, Penny.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said, shrugging. ‘My family’s been too busy behaving badly to notice.’

  ‘Your family is one out of the box.’

  ‘They’ve all been popping out of their boxes tonight, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t been much better.’

  ‘Well, you could be counted as family too now, so perhaps that explains it!’

  ‘I don’t know whether that’s an insult or a compliment.’ Simon laughed despite himself then winced. ‘Ooh, I’m sorry — terrible graunches in my tummy.’ He doubled over. ‘I wish this damn thing would go away.’

  ‘Me too,’ I said ruefully as I swabbed the floor. There was a strong smell of lavender disinfectant, no doubt blending with the tufts off the lavender bush Stephanie and Marcus had dropped on their way through.

  ‘Penny, you go and make Simon comfortable,’ Jenn said, taking the mop from me. ‘I’ll finish up here.’

  ‘I can’t let you do that, Jenn. You’ve come all the way from Australia …’

  ‘Not to sit about drinking cups of tea with little old ladies,’ she laughed. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m happy seeing that everyone else is happy.’

  ‘You’re the perfect guest.’ I smiled appreciatively, wondering if I should ask her to stay permanently.

  ‘Not a problem. Now go see to Simon.’ She gesticulated towards the lounge, into which Simon had trudged. He’d collapsed on the sofa and was looking weary. I did as I was told and plonked myself down next to him.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.

  ‘Better now,’ he said, smiling weakly. ‘I always feel much better after I … er …’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘Better out than in, as they say.’

  ‘There’s a lot to be said for avoiding the tropics and all their tummy bugs,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. You couldn’t help it.’

  ‘I wish I’d never gone to Turkey. I feel like I’ll never escape its clutches.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It was wonderful being with you all that time. It was so romantic.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m about as romantic as a pile of sweaty jockstraps on laundry day.’

  ‘You have your moments.’ I gave his arm a squeeze. ‘Besides,’ I continued, ‘your cookie-tossing act out there was the last in a long line of bizarre and unusual behaviours that have made this a truly memorable party.’

  ‘I must have missed most of the other acts. Apart from having bagpipes boring into my eardrums, I haven’t noticed any other craziness.’

  ‘You’re lucky,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘I won’t even begin to fill you in.’

  ‘I’ll bet your Philosophical Society girls will drag it out of you. They’re waiting out on the terrace for you to make an appearance.’

  ‘Are they? I’ve been so busy dealing with one problem after another I haven’t had time to see them.’

  ‘You know, your girlfriends have managed to pull the blinkers from my eyes tonight.’

  I looked at him quizzically. He seemed to be searching for words.

  ‘I’ve been so blind, I never saw it,’ he said at last.

  ‘Saw what?’ I said, mystified. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

  ‘You, of course. I’m talking about you.’ He took my hand. ‘You’ve undergone something of a transformation since you were on that boat. But it took your Philly girls, as you call them, to wake me up to just how much you’ve changed. I’ve been in another world these past few weeks, what with the tummy bug making me feel like crap a lot of the time and going back to university and having so much to do. I just didn’t see it. But you’re really beautiful now. I mean, you’ve always been beautiful to me, but now you’re really beautiful.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I seem to be messing this up terribly. I’m no good at this sort of thing.’ He looked at me intently. ‘But now you’re amazing. You’ve lost weight, you’ve got a terrific tan, you look so healthy — you just look wonderful.’

  He paused and looked embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, Penny, I shouldn’t be talking like this at your mother’s funeral, and I should have noticed ages ago and said something earlier. I’m just such a klutz.’

  I was so taken aback I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Now I’ve upset you, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, no. Not at all.’ I put my hand on top of his. ‘It’s just so unexpected. I mean, I hadn’t really noticed myself. I know it sounds bizarre, but I still see myself as being overweight, overwrought and over the hill. Even when I look in the mirror, there’s no way I see the kind of person you’re talking about. I mean, I can see I’ve got a bit of a tan, yes. And that always makes a girl look a lot better. But all that other stuff — trim and fit … and beautiful? I wish!’

  ‘There are none so blind as those who refuse to see,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve had my eyes opened. What’s it going to take to open yours?’

  I shook my head, stunned into silence.

  ‘I know. I’ll stand you in front of the mirror and slowly undress you.’ His eyes held mine. ‘And as each layer comes off, we’ll reclothe your stubborn self-esteem.’

  ‘Goodness,’ I said, my breath quite taken away. From somewhere deep inside me I felt a deep burning sensation, rising upwards.

  Too late! I didn’t manage to close my mouth in time and an enormously loud hiccup burst forth. Fortunately, the racket Dad and his mates were making meant that only Simon heard it.

  ‘You’re about as romantic as me tonight,’ he laughed. ‘It must be all that wine talking.’

  I hiccupped again.

  ‘Try drinking out of the wrong side of the glass,’ he suggested.

  I lifted my glass to my lips.

  ‘No, not that glass. A glass of water!’

  ‘Wine’s as good as water,’ I protested. ‘In fact, it’s better.’

  I stood up and twisted myself around so I could drink out of the other side of the glass.

  It was no surprise at all that I managed to spill a large blob of sav blanc onto the heirloom rug.

  Simon laughed. ‘I can see this isn’t going to work.’

  ‘Hic.’ I kept my mouth shut that time. ‘I’ll go outside. Maybe the night air will get rid of them.’

  ‘Go and join the girls. They were getting very philosophical when I left.’

  ‘That would be a typical thinking woman’s drinking society meeting. Come with me.’

  ‘I’ll throw some water on the spill to dilute it. It’ll take my mind off my tummy. I’ll join you soon.’

  ‘I’ll be waiting.’

  ‘I love you, you know.’ He gave me his killer smile.

  ‘Hic.’ I always had impeccable timing. But an uncomfortable feeling stirred in my stomach that wasn’t entirely due to the hiccupping — a feeling that I just might be head over heels in love with this entirely lovable man. And, unlike Steve and Charlotte’s feelings, I thought this topsy-turvy upside down and inside out feeling of being head over heels might be permanent.

  ‘I love you too,’ I said, surprised at myself for finally managing to get the words out of
my mouth. Quickly, before he could respond and before another cursed hiccup burst forth, I kissed him on his forehead and escaped outside.

  I found Liz, Helen, Fran and Di in a seemingly earnest discussion around the weathered old outdoor table.

  ‘Hey, Penny.’ Fran, the only sober one among us as usual, saw me approach first. Fran’s dreadlocks had been cut off, leaving a short crop which she’d dyed an alarming platinum blonde. ‘What took you so long?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s like a French farce in there, with people pashing up all over the place, media knocking at the door, teenagers getting off their tree on high-powered West Coast dope and perfect strangers dropping by to finish off the single malt.’

  ‘Sounds like a typical day in the Rushmore household,’ Helen laughed.

  ‘Did they tell you about the four witches dreaming up a spell under the light of the full moon?’ Di asked, making potion-stirring motions with her hands.

  ‘Sounds like something I ought to know about. What was the spell for?’

  ‘To bring the fifth member of their coven enduring love and happiness,’ Liz said.

  ‘That sounds like an impossible dream.’

  ‘Not if you listen to Simon, it isn’t,’ Fran said.

  ‘Simon? Since when did he get to be part of the coven?’

  ‘Since he spent most of the evening out here with us,’ Di replied.

  ‘He really is a good man,’ Fran said.

  ‘He ain’t so good at the moment,’ I said. ‘He’s still got that terrible tummy bug from something he ate in Turkey.’

  ‘Pity Jacinta didn’t get it,’ Helen said. ‘She could lose a few kilos right now.’

  ‘She’ll be losing at least three kilos in January,’ I said. ‘That’ll be a good start.’

  ‘We should run a competition on the breakfast show to dob in who’s put on the most weight during pregnancy,’ Helen said. ‘We could call it “Who’s eating for two?”’

  ‘And call for confessions of bizarre pregnancy cravings,’ Liz threw in.