‘Can you type?’ she’d asked, peering at Krystal through half-moon glasses. Candice had a mop of cherry red curls, mismatched with pink lipstick, and wore a canary yellow top, a combination Krystal found intriguing. ‘Answer phones?’
‘Well, yes,’ Krystal had said, confused.
‘I think you should consider the position of administration assistant instead.’
‘I haven’t done that before, though,’ Krystal said, her mind racing to find some sort of relevant experience somewhere in her past.
‘Look, you’re a mum. Mums are working administration officers from the word go. Give yourself a leg up. The job’s yours if you’d like it.’
Truthfully, the role had never held much appeal. But she was smart enough to know that it would look better in her work history, the principal was right about that. Evan had life insurance, so she was far from destitute, but she knew she’d still have to work and, more than that, she knew she needed some sort of structure and responsibility to keep her focused so she didn’t slide into dysfunction. She didn’t want to end up like her mother.
Now, she settled herself at her desk quickly, longing for coffee but deciding to wait until Janice’s frostiness abated. She concentrated on the school newsletter that was due to go out this afternoon. Janice collated each item but it was Krystal’s job to double-check all the dates and payment requests and send out the email. Low, dark clouds had gathered outside. She could hear Mrs Giannopoulos’s voice droning on about long division, and Mr Roberts playing his guitar in his classroom, to much shrieking and applause. In the sick bay, little Bo Wei was crying softly on and off, waiting for his mum to come back and pick him up.
Krystal rubbed at her eyes, aching for that cuppa.
‘Coffee?’ Janice suggested from her desk.
‘A double shot would be nice,’ Krystal said, thinking miserably of the instant coffee in the tearoom. It was one of Krystal’s jobs to order tea and coffee supplies, and she bought the stuff in one-kilogram tubs, along with raw sugar and long-life milk.
‘Maybe one day,’ Janice said, her mood seeming to improve. ‘We should raise it with the P & C to ask if they’ll at least fund us for a pod machine. Not that pods are real coffee, but they’re a darn sight better than instant.’
‘It’s the packaging,’ Krystal said. ‘The environmental leader, what’s her name, Siobhan? She won’t like pods because of the waste created by all those tiny plastic packets.’
‘Maybe we should petition for a coffee van, then, to visit us at regular hours and make us all sorts of fancy coffees.’
‘That’s a great idea.’ Krystal swivelled her chair around to study Janice, somewhat buoyed by this sudden spurt of conversation. Janice looked especially nice today, in a black pencil skirt, white blouse and matching jacket. Her red fingernail polish gleamed, reflecting the fluorescent lights above them. Her steel-grey hair was short and spiky, her thick-rimmed glasses edgy. Krystal wondered what her supervisor had been up to on the weekend.
Sex?
Antiquing?
Sex and antiquing?
Krystal studied her own cheap black pants and T-shirt with cable-knit cardigan and considered that she could use a wardrobe update, something to compete with Janice here in the office.
‘Maybe two teaspoons of coffee will help,’ Krystal said, getting up.
‘Did you have a bad night?’ Janice asked, her fingernails continuing to tap across her keyboard and her eyes peering straight ahead at her screen.
‘I didn’t sleep very well,’ Krystal said, pausing mid-stride. ‘Why do you ask?’ She was on edge now, her new, warm feelings towards Janice quickly cooling.
‘Just that you look like you could use that coffee,’ Janice said, her eyes still on the screen.
Krystal closed her eyes in frustration – she’d thought they’d been making social progress – and tucked her cardigan around her tighter. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’
Finally, the school bell rang. Krystal met Roxy – today wearing a patchwork coat that made her look like a friendly scarecrow – at the classroom door where she was collecting Jasper and Austin. She kissed Jasper goodbye.
‘Good luck,’ Roxy said, carrying both boys’ bags like a Sherpa, while they raced ahead of her down the verandah.
‘Thanks.’ Krystal hurried away, her boots clunking along the wooden boards, down the stairs and across the concrete, weaving through kids in yellow and navy uniforms, out to the car and on her way to The Tin Man.
The slow end-of-school traffic made her twitch with nerves. All she could think about was Gabriella.
Gabriella, Gabriella, Gabriella.
If she could just be there, next to a piece of Evan, maybe she could move on somehow from the mental nightmare she’d been in since his death. She inched her car through school zones and past buses, debating with herself, giving herself the chance to back out. She could take more time to think about it. She could try talking to someone at the hospital, though she knew that would be a waste of time. All information was sealed.
By the time she arrived in South Yarra and found a parking spot, she had almost no memory of the actual drive there. Her mind had been completely consumed with thinking about Gabriella, Evan, Cordelia-Aurora and everything that had happened that night in Sydney.
She stopped momentarily at the fountain in the courtyard outside the cafe, took a steadying breath, then forged on. Inside, the cafe was an oasis of beauty and she felt her spirits rise just being here. The aroma of coffee and vanilla wafted through the air. She stilled, taking it all in, getting her bearings. Frank Sinatra played over the sound system. To her left was the green wall, ivy and potted plants covering the bricks, that she’d sat beside the first time she’d seen Gabriella. In front of her was the cabinet of drool-worthy cakes and pastries. Behind the counter was a dark-haired, heavily whiskered man, probably in his mid-forties, scowling and working the coffee machine. He briefly looked up at her, then went back to his work. A huge bouquet of white lilies on the countertop exuded a thick, sweet fragrance.
Krystal swept her eyes across the tables and lounges. In the furthest corner she spotted a more intimate nook, with a few dark brown cowhides lying on the floor between the heavy, stuffed lounges, and pink carnations adorning a low glass table. Her breath caught in her throat. Seated at one of the lounges was Gabriella McPhee, her long red hair loose, dressed today in a ruffled off-the-shoulder white shirt and maybe … was that just the hint of a scar showing at the neckline? She was working on a laptop, which balanced on her knees atop a long, layered denim skirt. Incongruously, there was a dog at her side, a creature with golden blond hair so beautiful it should have been in a pet food commercial. It wore a red service jacket and sat up quite straight, as though on guard.
Krystal almost lost her nerve then and took a step towards the counter with a view to ordering a coffee and gathering her wits. As she moved, the dog’s head snapped towards her and it fixed Krystal with a stare. Her step faltered; then Gabriella looked up, following the dog’s gaze, and their eyes collided.
Time stood still. It was as though she could see Evan’s essence behind those eyes and her urgent need to get close to Gabriella thundered in her ears. Gabriella’s hand lifted to her chest and even from where Krystal stood it was easy to see shock register on her face.
She knows!
A hurricane of emotion swept through her, from her toes to her hair – excitement, grief, anger, desperation. Without thinking, she marched towards Gabriella, holding her gaze. She stopped at the edge of the table. All she could hear was her own breath – in, out, in, out. She needed to speak, to say something. Her eyes dropped to Gabriella’s chest and her white shirt, rising and falling with every breath.
Then Gabriella coughed. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes watered as if she was choking on something. She leaned forward, hurrying to get her laptop onto the table in front of her.
‘Are you okay?’ Krystal asked, making a move towards her. The dog growled.
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Krystal froze. The dog was statue stiff, one side of its top lip twitching like Elvis Presley’s famous sneer.
Gabriella straightened in her seat again, but beads of sweat had broken out on her forehead. Krystal didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go towards Gabriella because the dog was in the way, but she wanted to make sure Gabriella was okay, and there was so much pressure inside her, the words she needed to say trying to force their way out.
Gabriella coughed again and blinked her eyes, then took a big breath. She was okay. Krystal took her chance.
‘I’m sorry for interrupting, but my name is Krystal Arthur. I think you might have my husband’s heart.’
Gabriella stared at her, some kind of realisation crossing her face. ‘It’s you. You’re the one doing this.’
‘Doing … what? What do you mean?’
‘That one was new.’ Gabriella said it quietly, almost to herself.
‘What was new?’ Krystal stood stiff with tension.
The dog growled again. Gabriella looked surprised and reached out her hand to place it on the animal’s neck. In the back of her mind, Krystal considered that this type of canine behaviour could precede an attack. But it was a trained golden retriever, not a stray frothing at the mouth.
‘I don’t understand,’ Krystal said. ‘Maybe I should start again. You’re Gabriella McPhee, aren’t you? I only need a few moments. I just need to talk to you about something …’
The dog got to its feet, its growling intensifying. Then the man with the dark hair was at her side. ‘Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the cafe now.’
Krystal spun to glare at him, a loud buzzing inside her head. She needed this all to slow down. She needed time to explain who she was.
‘As you can see, you’re upsetting this dog.’ He kept his dark eyes on her but gestured to the retriever, who had drool dripping from its lips now, its eyes still boring into Krystal. She’d have to rethink that idea about retrievers being harmless. ‘This dog is a service animal and is on duty. If she feels you’re a threat, I’m guessing you probably are.’
‘Luciano …’ Finally Gabriella spoke, as if she was going to tell him everything was okay.
But Luciano held out his hand to Gabriella and addressed Krystal. ‘Let’s just call it a day, okay. I can send for a cab, or make you a coffee …’
‘I’m not drunk,’ Krystal hissed at him, the guilt of last night’s wine fresh in her mind and now horribly aware that the cafe chatter had quietened as customers turned to stare. Her skin flamed.
Still, Luciano hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Neither had the dog. Fierce, stubborn pride and anguish fought to get her to hold her ground. She couldn’t lose now, not when she was so close she could almost touch her goal.
‘Please, Gabriella, I only need a few minutes of your time.’
The dog barked – a single, piercing shot of sound that made them all jump.
‘Let’s go,’ Luciano ordered.
Searing with humiliation under the eyes of the whole cafe, Krystal hurried to the door and just made it outside before she burst into tears.
11
Gabby paced the floor of the storeroom, Sally trailing after her, licking at her hand every now and then. Luciano perched on a pile of three bags of Ethiopian coffee beans, the smell of hessian in the air.
‘What just happened?’ he asked.
‘All this time I was thinking it was him, my donor, but it’s not – it’s her!’ Gabby could feel how wide her eyes were and purposely relaxed them so as not to look like a madwoman. She might be a bit mad, granted, but she didn’t need to look the part.
‘Do you know that woman?’ Luciano asked, his finger tugging at his red neckerchief, and even in the midst of all this craziness she felt a flash of attraction to him. The way he had come to her rescue out there would be enough to confuse her on a good day, let alone now.
‘Not exactly.’
Luciano waited, holding her gaze.
‘She thinks I have the heart of …’ she trailed off, biting down hard on her lip, suppressing a sudden bubble of emotion.
‘Her husband,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s big.’
‘It is.’
‘Do you think it’s true?’
‘I do. I’ve been having these insights – flashes. They’re him – well, they’re me, but it’s not me, you know? It’s like a dream but it’s real. They’re terrifying and I know it’s him and he’s trying to … I don’t know, show me something? And I just thought this was like the thing with the hotdogs, something coming from him, but when I see her, I feel him. It’s like she’s the key to unlocking him.’
She stared at him a moment, digesting her own words. ‘I sound completely bonkers, don’t I?’
Luciano tilted his head to the side and gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Maybe a little.’
She stopped pacing and Sally gratefully sat down beside her leg, panting gently in the overly bright storeroom. ‘The first day I saw her here in the cafe I had this vision not long after she left. It was night and cold and I was running in a street. Just now, when she stood in front of me, I smelled smoke. I smelled it like it was curling up from embers right below my nose.’
‘What do you think it means?’
‘I have no idea.’ Gabby rubbed Sally’s head. ‘I have to go. I’m so sorry for dumping all this on you. You must think I’m a right nutter. We’ll never speak of it again, I promise.’
She fetched her handbag from where it sat on top of a bucket of roasted beans, pulled out Sally’s leash and clipped it on. Luciano got to his feet and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans, watching her. She straightened and gave him her best carefree smile. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He nodded. But as she turned to leave he said, ‘I believe you, you know. I don’t think you’re nuts.’
She turned back to face him. ‘Why on earth not?’
He rocked his head from side to side. ‘Let’s just say I’ve had a few crazy experiences of my own.’
‘Really? Like what?’
He smiled, and his eyes lit up with something like relief. ‘Another time.’
Gabby’s thoughts were a whirlwind as she and Sally disembarked the Toorak Road/Burke Road tram and began the ten-minute walk home. But she calmed when she reached the entrance to the house. In the kitchen, she found the doors to the outside entertainment area wide open. Summer had brought Freddie home from school and the girls were having cappuccinos and croissants at the table, still in their blue and green uniforms. Gabby poked her head out the door and Sally stepped down onto the pavers and went straight to the girls’ sides, checking for food. Technically she wasn’t allowed to beg; but, in fairness, she was off duty now.
‘Hi, girls, how was your day?’ Gabby asked, remaining in the doorway. Unlike Sally, she knew when she wasn’t wanted.
‘Good,’ they both chimed, and Freddie handed Sally an entire croissant. Sally’s eyes widened to saucers, and she took it carefully in her mouth and walked across the grass to lie down and have some quiet time alone with her treat. The girls seemed to be in a good mood, Summer smiling widely, flashing her braces. She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and giggled.
‘Well, let me know if you need anything,’ Gabby said, and went to turn away.
‘Oh, Mum,’ Summer called her back. ‘I need to do a project for school on recycling so I need some of your used coffee grounds from the cafe.’
‘Okay. What are you doing with them?’
‘Growing plants in them.’
‘How much do you need?’
Summer wrinkled her nose. ‘Maybe enough for six small plants?’
‘We’d have enough here at home for that,’ Gabby said. ‘I’ll start putting it aside for you.’
‘I need jars too.’
‘There are heaps of recycled jars in the cupboard. Help yourself. That sounds like a really cool idea,’ Gabby said, hiding her excitemen
t that her daughter had a project that Gabby could help with. She also knew that saying cool wasn’t cool. She thought she’d heard epic being used these days but she couldn’t be certain. She decided to leave them to it before she embarrassed herself any further, and made her way to the lounge room, where Celia was snuggled into the brown leather couch with popcorn, watching The Princess Diaries. Retro flicks were all the rage among her peers.
‘Hi, Fairy Cake,’ Gabby said, kissing Celia on the head and rubbing her shoulder.
‘Hi!’
Gabby grabbed a handful of popcorn and chewed carefully, already regretting it as she felt the sharp kernel husks wedging between her teeth. It just smelled so good! Salty and buttery and warm. ‘Hey, what’s this?’ Gabby picked up a new artwork off the carved wooden chest that served as the coffee table, and flopped down on the couch next to Celia. It was a large poster, painted with a blue background, with six recycled CDs glued on, shiny side up, and fins, scales, eyes, lips and tails painted on to turn them into rainbow fish.
‘We made them in art today. I made it for Mykahla for her nursery,’ Celia said, pulling herself over to Gabby to lean on her shoulder and point out all the different fish.
‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s beautiful.’ Gabby wrapped her arm around Celia and pulled her close for a hug, and in return got an overly tight two-arm bear squeeze. ‘Whoa! When did you get so strong?’
Celia just shrugged. ‘I can’t wait to give it to her. Maybe we could drive over to Dad’s so Mykahla can have it now?’ she said, grinning, expecting Gabby to agree to the impromptu plan.
‘Mm.’ Gabby froze for a moment. Cam still hadn’t responded to her, so his silence was the only thing she had to go on as to whether he’d meant what he said about the kids. Was this the moment to break it to her child that her father didn’t want to see her right now? Or should she fob them off a bit longer in the hope Cam would come to his senses and see that his first three children still needed him very much, and get himself back on track before they knew anything was wrong?
The Gift of Life Page 10
