Daniela could taste panic in the back of her throat. James had always dated in the past, but never with any intent of giving up his laddish lifestyle.
‘Really?’ she said, trying to steady her voice while picturing the future Mrs James walking alongside them, in an apron over a pink dress and lipstick in a colour that matched. Suddenly she was jabbering about how awful the dating scene was. It was half to discourage him with scenes of emotional carnage on the romantic frontline, half an attempt to make him jealous.
‘Of course it’s not that I have trouble finding people to date, it’s just there’s nobody out there who I’d want to spend my life with.’
She sounded pazza! Crazy!
‘So, no plans to find someone and settle down yourself?’ he asked as they walked on.
‘It’s not that, it’s just — well — there’s nobody to do it with.’
‘Uh-huh,’ he nodded.
Driving home she cursed herself. She should have played it better. She should have used her position as an insider to probe him for details of what he was looking for in a partner, and asked his advice on how to seduce a man. Then applied his advice to him.
And now this, he was asking her to tell him about her love life. Like a friend who you haven’t seen for a while. Or an uncle.
‘Perhaps you can give me some advice, since you’re a dating professional these days.’
‘What do you mean?’ Dani’s heart sped up.
‘I need restaurant recommendations for a date. Somewhere nice. Flash without being pretentious.’
‘You’ve never asked for a recommendation before.’
‘I know, but I want to impress this one.’
Her insides turned to lead. She didn’t know what to say. ‘You do, huh? What’s her name?’
‘You know her, actually. It’s Abbey. The interiors consultant. I want to take her out.’
‘Abbey?’
Horror seized Dani fast, like venom in her veins. Abbey.
The poison from a box jellyfish is so toxic it can paralyse and then kill within minutes of contact. It caused symptoms of nausea, trembling, sweating and difficulty breathing. Daniela felt all this now.
‘I’ll have a think about it,’ was all she could manage.
‘Thanks,’ James said. Then he rolled up the blueprints and was gone. Daniela had forgotten to give him the pasta.
She ate her lunch and then his, stabbing at the food with her fork. Abbey. The girl in the tight skirt who told stories about her breasts. Of course. Why would he want to be with someone who adores him when he could be with a girl whose anecdotes are all nipple-themed and delivered while she perches on a desk like some sort of over-sexed paperweight? Daniela rattled around in her top drawer for a painkiller. She found a half-empty pack of cold and flu pills. The package promised they would help her overcome any symptoms. She stuck them in her mouth and crunched them aggressively.
Feeling angry and needing to take it out on somebody, she opened a web browser and started searching the names of the three men who hadn’t called her. After a few minutes she found the work email for Nicky Mangione. The one from Calabria who liked to discuss drainage over dinner.
She tapped his contact details into the address field of a new email and started typing.
Dear Sir,
I was disappointed and surprised not to have heard from you, despite your promise to call. Then it occurred to me that you simply lack a basic grasp of the English language. To save you from further confusion and embarrassment, please read the tip below.
‘I will call you’ is a verb phrase in simple future tense in which ‘I’ is the subject and ‘call’ is the predicate. The transitive verb ‘call’ (kɔːl) is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as ‘to communicate with by telephone or radio’. The pronoun ‘I’ indicates that the speaker is referring to themselves. The use of the modal verb ‘will’ tells us that the action will take place in the future. It also confers on the sentence the absolutism of a promise. The pronoun ‘you’ refers to the person to whom the speaker is directing the statement. The phrase communicates an intention by the speaker ‘I’ to place a telephone call to the person ‘you’ in the future.
Most eight-year-olds would understand this sentence, and it saddens me to think how difficult your life must have been as you have clearly received no education past the age of seven. I hope this tip helps you in your attempts to communicate with adults.
Sincerely,
Daniela
Then she bashed the send button. She felt momentarily better, before nausea rushed over her again.
By four o’clock she wondered if there was something genuinely wrong with her. She had felt off-colour since seeing James. But it was more than just the Abbey thing. A full-body lethargy had taken over and she had stomach pains. It felt like she was pregnant with a very tiny ninja. Whenever she thought of James and Abbey together, the ninja started playing with his razor-edged throwing stars.
When she got home Dani immediately drained two glasses of cab sav. On the television, construction workers wolf-whistled at a girl in a short dress. She threw a cushion at the screen, then went to her room to fetch a small black bag. Inside were a few lipsticks Gia had bought her over the years, and some mascara and blush that Dani used for weddings and formal events. She opened the blush compact and propped it up on a pile of Architecture Digest magazines. She drew on mulberry lips, then rolled the mascara brush over her lashes, wondering if all James wanted was someone pretty and fun.
She dug her phone out of her bag. There were three missed calls from Annabel. Daniela frowned. She didn’t feel like talking to Annabel. She wouldn’t understand what it was like to lose James to Abbey Kilburn. Her phone started ringing.
‘Dani?’
‘Annabel. You called?’
‘Yes,’ she sounded nervous. ‘I was just wondering, did I do something or say something to upset you?’
‘No,’ Daniela lied. ‘No, why would you ask that?’
‘You seemed kind of short with me at the market on Saturday.’
Dani was used to being yelled at. She was not used to unsure, sad questioning.
‘No, not at all. I guess I’m just under a lot of pressure at work. We have to move these vents, but when I went to see the company directors—’ she stopped herself. Annabel wouldn’t understand. She swallowed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘Okay.’ Annabel sounded unconvinced. ‘Anyway,’ she said airily. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Jason Ceravic.’
‘Jason?’
‘Yes. I’m worried about Clementine.’
‘Clem can take care of herself.’
‘Dani, he’s a bad guy. You saw her mooning over that baby on the weekend. We can’t let her go back to him. He’s a liar and he’s deceitful.’
‘He is, isn’t he?’
‘I had coffee today with Delores Peck from the Herald, and she told me he has affairs all the time. It’s like sport to him. I guess, his wife’s always out, so he gets bored.’
‘That’s awful,’ Dani said.
‘We can’t let her near him — he could destroy everything. It’s more than just her feelings that’s at stake here; it’s her career, too.’
Daniela gulped. ‘You’re right,’ she said, feeling guilty for mistrusting her friend.
‘Okay,’ said Annabel. ‘I just wanted to let you know.’
‘Annabel,’ Dani said hastily before her friend hung up.
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks for the call. You’re a good friend, looking out for Clem like that.’
‘Well,’ she said. ‘You two would do the same for me.’
‘Sure,’ Dani said, drowning in guilt. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Daniela hung up. The phone call had not improved her mood. She was about to sample the pinot gris she had purchased to entertain imaginary male visitors when she heard Simon at the front door. He seemed to be having an argument with the lock. She could hear the key being jiggered and s
craped in the keyhole, accompanied by indecipherable muttering. She could have gotten up and let him in, but the lethargy was back and it had been strengthened by the wine.
Daniela was flat out on her stomach on the couch when Simon finally slammed the door and threw his keys onto the table. They missed by almost half a metre, and skidded across the floor. He smelled of beer.
‘Been at the pub?’
He nodded. ‘It’s fucked,’ he said.
He’d had another fight with Liz. They had been eating dinner at the Friend in Hand hotel when she had accused him of looking at other women. Dani knew Simon was a bit of a rubberneck. She had even caught him looking at her a couple of times when she came out of the shower in a towel. But it was harmless. When they’d finished eating, Liz had told him she was going home alone and left with her car. He went back inside and polished off two more beers before beginning the wobbly walk home.
‘She just completely blew up. It’s over.’
‘Have some wine,’ Dani said, holding out the half-empty bottle of cab sav. Simon put it to his lips and drank. Then he poured half of what was left into Daniela’s glass and took another swig from the bottle.
‘We’ve been together nearly two years, and the entire time it has been like this. At first I thought she’d settle down, but she’s so demanding. I’ve never even looked at another woman.’
Daniela raised her eyebrows at him.
‘Okay, I look. But I have never ever touched another woman. Never even thought about it. I just admire them, you know, from an aesthetic point of view.’
He took off his glasses and pinched his nose.
‘Perhaps I should walk around without these on. Then I won’t be able to ogle anybody.’ His shoulders sank. Simon must be as blind as a bat. The thick glasses transformed his face, and Daniela hardly ever saw him without them. She took them from him and hooked the arms over her ears. The lenses made her eyes hurt; everything blurred into vague blocks of colour.
‘Very intelligent-looking,’ he said, taking them back. He rested them on the coffee table.
Channel Nine was running a John Travolta marathon: Grease, Look Who’s Talking and Pulp Fiction. Sandy had just decided to change her look to win back Danny. As she looked out over the bare concrete motorway, Simon sighed. ‘Maybe I’m just afraid of being alone.’
Dani sat up straight. ‘Do men get that?’
‘Yeah, of course.’
He sighed and sat down on the couch. Without his glasses, Simon was quite handsome. The wine flowing through Dani’s veins made her aware of his body. Thick hair covered his knuckles, chest and legs. His arms were hairy, too, and he had a very heavy five o’clock shadow. A nine o’clock shadow, more like it. They sat at opposite ends of the couch and worked their way through the wine. Simon got up and brought in a large bag of chips from the kitchen, and settled it between them.
By the time Danny and Sandy were singing ‘You’re the One that I Want’, Dani was very tipsy. She hummed along with the Rydell High graduates as they gyrated on the carnie rides. When Kirstie Alley gave birth to Bruce Willis, she was sloshed.
‘Wasn’t that baby in Die Hard?’ Simon asked. They were lolling all over each other, their limbs loose with wine. He picked up the empty bottle. ‘I’ll get more,’ he stumbled toward the kitchen. ‘I’ve got a cheeky cleanskin hiding behind the cereal. Where’s the corkscrew?’
Dani shrugged drunkenly.
He returned with a can-opener and a small hammer.
‘I couldn’t find it,’ he said.
She held up her glass which he filled sloppily. When he crashed back onto the couch he spilled more. A trickle of warm burgundy liquid dribbled onto Daniela’s wrist and slid down her arm. She put her mouth on her arm and sucked up the wine. Simon watched her, his eyelids drooping lazily. He kicked her.
‘You’re on my side.’ He pushed Dani’s leg back over to her half of the couch with his foot, which he left resting on the top of her thigh.
‘It’s my couch,’ Dani said. ‘The whole thing is my side. You’re just a guest.’
‘I guess you’re right.’ He patted her right arm, which was draped along the back of the couch. He left his hand sitting on it; his palm touching her bare skin. They had lived in close quarters for so long, but had never really touched each other. Dani could feel his fingers press into her arm. They were firm. They were testing for permission. She didn’t respond. She offered neither encouragement nor opposition. He moved his fingers up toward her shoulder. She didn’t stop him.
Daniela opened her eyes to a powerful headache. Her alarm clock showed it was just before five.
‘Oh no,’ she said, groaning.
Simon’s face, crumpled with sleep, was on the pillow opposite her. There were teeth marks in his bare shoulder. One was filled with a little clot of blood where an incisor had broken the skin. As Daniela stared at it, he opened his eyes, then sniggered.
‘Wow, that was good.’
‘I know.’ She rolled onto her back and smiled at the ceiling. ‘I was there.’
They looked at each other and laughed. Dani felt relief. It was okay. It was funny. Silly them, seeking comfort in the arms of a housemate. She liked that they could laugh at their drunk selves. Silly, silly drunk them. She eased herself out of bed and surveyed the damage. Her boots were strewn on the floor. She picked one up. Somehow he had gotten them off her feet without undoing the laces.
‘Impressive,’ she said.
He lay there, propped up on one arm, watching her. Strangely, it was not strange to have him in her bed. They had shuffled around each other in boxer shorts in the kitchen often enough. But her head felt like it was going to burst; like someone had stuck a hose in one ear, a plug in the other and turned the water on full-blast. She returned to the bed and looked at Simon’s body, admiring the pale skin beneath dark hair. She was still a little drunk when he said, ‘How do you feel about morning sex?’
She paused. ‘Ah, I think I might feel weird about that.’
‘You could be over-thinking it.’ He put a hand on her hip.
‘You don’t think it will ruin our friendship?’ Dani rolled away, conscious of her cotton mouth.
Simon traced a path from her collarbone down her sternum. ‘If we’re going to ruin our friendship, we may as well ruin it properly.’
He cuddled her through the doona and wrestled her onto her back. In the early light the bed felt like it was swaying. Dani was swept into a sleepy pleasure state. She was definitely still a little tipsy.
When they woke for the second time, the light in the room had changed. The sun had risen and was illuminating the seediness of the room: the lank bra, the twisted knickers, the silver foil condom packets, an empty bottle of wine, two dirty dishes that they’d eaten ice-cream from, there was melted chocolate dairy-and-gelatine goo caked onto them, spoons with lick marks.
‘What are you going to do today?’ Dani asked. Simon shrugged. He ran his own tech support business out of a white panel van with his phone number printed on the side. On slow days he drove it around the city streets to get the message out. She called the site and told them she had a headache. She hated taking sickies, but turning up to work inebriated was far worse. Besides, she did have a headache. Her head was thumping. She resolved to stay in bed and never drink again.
‘I’d better have a shower,’ Simon said, rolling off the bed and pulling his boxer shorts up in one, slick movement. He shut the door after him.
Daniela lay still and wondered what next. Simon was a good guy. She had never thought of him romantically before because of Liz; Liz who he had so eagerly bought a lingerie pattern kit for a few weeks earlier as a gesture of his affection. Dani felt guilty about Liz. But on the other hand, she did seem to make him miserable.
She listened to the hiss of the water and the churn of the pipes as he turned the hot tap on as hard as it would go. After five minutes of water splattering and sloshing, the stream stopped. The exhaust fan started up. She pictured him towel
ling himself. There was a softer patter of water as the sink tap came on and Dani heard teeth-brushing sounds. There were spits and gargles. A brief pause, and then the door opened and shut. There was silence for a moment. She listened for footsteps. Were they going towards his room or hers? She heard his bedroom door open and then shut. Silence for a few more minutes. Then he spoke.
‘I’m just going to grab some milk,’ he shouted from down the hall.
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘Do you want anything?’
‘Um. No, thanks.’
‘Okay. Bye.’
‘Bye.’
The front door slammed. He didn’t come back for the rest of the day. Dani waited for him through five hours of daytime television and the six o’clock news. She prayed for sleep to relieve her of having to endure her thundering headache, but sleep didn’t come until it was very dark outside.
When she woke up the next morning, she felt better. She leapt out of bed, grateful to be headache free, and trotted down the hall to the bathroom. As she reached for the knob, it turned. The door opened and there was Simon, looking sheepish.
‘Oh, hi,’ she said.
‘I ended up watching the rugby at a mate’s. I wasn’t sure if you were home when I came back,’ he blurted out.
‘Oh, fine, that’s fine. You don’t have to explain.’
He nodded.
‘I’d better go. I’ve got an early job.’
And go he did. Daniela hardly saw him for the rest of the week.
Chapter 13 Clementine
Hi, Clementine. This is Ray. I was sorry you had to cancel dinner last week. I hope you’ve recovered from the tonsillitis. I was wondering if you wanted to re-schedule?
Ray was the third man Clementine had met on the hunt; one of the bachelors from York 64. She paused before replying. It was a chance at something new. An escape hatch.
She slowly typed her response: Nice to hear from you Ray, but I’m afraid I’m seeing someone. It was lovely to meet you.
Her finger wavered over the send button. She rolled her head back until her neck cracked.
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