Avoiding Mr Right

by Anita Heiss

  forty

  Singing the Kimberley

  The next week was so busy I didn't have time to think about James, or Mike, or Sydney vs. Melbourne or celibacy or any of it. On Monday I flew off to Kununurra in Western Australia for a forum coordinated by the department – 'Literacy, Literature and Living Stories' – and I'd had to do an awful lot of reading over the weekend to prepare for it. I couldn't believe the number of books by Aboriginal authors coming out of Western Australia. Representatives from publishing houses and writing programs and support staff from relevant government departments all travelled from across the Kimberley and as far away as Perth to the very top north-east corner of the state, near the Northern Territory border. Mum had always worried about me visiting communities in the Territory and WA where law and tradition were still adhered to and practised. I think she was worried about me falling under some 'love magic' and being sung by or to a Blackfella and then living my life too far away from her, but now I'd ended up all the way down south in Victoria anyway.

  The week in Kununurra gave me ample opportunity to talk to writers and storytellers, as well as visual artists from Waringarri Aboriginal Arts and Warnum Art Centre. It was a non-stop hectic six days. In between chairing sessions and running client meetings with organisations from the region, I wanted to get a feel for the country and do some tourist sites as well. I only had time for a cruise on Lake Argyle in the hope of seeing a croc, and to visit the Zebra Rock Gallery. I really missed Sylvia managing my diary and hadn't realised until then how much of a task it must have been for her juggling my workload and obligations.

  On closing night there was a concert with musicians travelling from Broome and One Arm Point to play for the tourists and locals alike. The Broome-based rock band Footprince re-formed for the occasion and Kerrianne Cox strummed her guitar, while local Peter Brandy played some country and western. But there was one acoustic musician with a velvet voice who really captured my celibate attention – when the last thing I needed was to fall for a local.

  I sat up the back with the local Elders, who were all cooing over young Chad.

  'Chad the lad, he's all right, hey daught,' one said, winking and nudging me in the side.

  'Bet they don't make 'em like 'im down south, eh?' another prodded.

  'Well, no Aunt, they don't actually,' I had to concede. It wasn't a Melbourne vs. Sydney thing now, it was a Kimberley vs. every other community thing. And the men here could really belt out a tune.

  'He could sing to me anytime,' another aunt laughed, 'or I could just sing him to me instead.' And they all held their large bellies and laughed until tears streamed down their faces. It was so lovely to see elderly women enjoying a harmless and hysterical perve.

  'Can you do that? Sing people I mean?' I said in my naive Murri way.

  'Of course, we have to do it before the good Black men end up with white women.' And the Elders laughed some more.

  'Or other men!' another chimed in.

  'Ah, but can you sing him to me so he moves down south? Cos Aunt, I like it here, but I'm a concrete Blackfella with Westfield Dreaming. I can't live in the Kimberley, not enough shopping.'

  'Ah daught, this fella here, he'll never leave his country. He too shy to go to big city. He'd wanna woman to stay and have too many babies. I don't think that's you, is it?' Somehow she knew. I wasn't likely to be a Kimberley bride, and the wisdom of my Elders never ceased to surprise me.

  As Chad finished his last song and took a bow amid screams for an encore, a mob of women surrounded him, all shapes and sizes, all ages and shades. He'd find his woman, no worries, and no-one would have to be sung to anyone.

  ♥

  The flights home from Kununurra were tiring: first to Darwin, then Adelaide, then Melbourne. I spent the time thinking about my thirty-first birthday, which was the following week. James was coming down, so we'd probably just go out for dinner and have a couple of drinks. It would be nice. It would be romantic. I would be spoiled for sure. And it would be a lot quieter than my birthdays in the past, without Alice, Dannie and Liza to party with.

  I'd have to work out when I could squeeze in Shelley, Sylvia and Josie because they'd all mentioned doing something too. Surely they'd understand that with James just there briefly, I'd have to spend the bulk of the time with him.

  As soon as the plane landed and we were allowed to turn on our phones, the messages came through: two from Alice, five from James, six from Sylvia and one each from Shelley, Josie and Mike. I'd been out of range in Kununurra and didn't bother turning the phone on when in transit. I was too exhausted to deal with work and nothing urgent would've been coming through on a Saturday anyway. James and Alice were also on my voicemail, and I called James back as I waited for my luggage. It had been nearly a week since we'd spoken and he sounded anxious.

  'Babe, God, it's been ages,' he fretted.

  'I know, I know, had no range up there, sorry. I tried your office a couple of times during the day from the library but you were always in meetings.'

  'I'm sorry.'

  'Don't be sorry, it's your work. I understand completely – it's the same when I'm in the office. Are you okay?'

  'I've got some bad news.'

  My heart sunk, someone had died. Alice and Gary had broken up – I couldn't think of what else would make him sound so distressed.

  'What is it? Tell me.'

  'I have to go to Dubai next weekend.'

  'That's so exciting! Wow, how wonderful.'

  'I'll miss your birthday, though. I thought you'd be upset.'

  'If you were missing my birthday because you were going to the footy or something I'd be upset. But Dubai, I've always wanted to go there. Is work sending you?'

  'Yes, we've got a small contract with the main firm doing the Islands of the World project.'

  'Oh my God, not the one we saw on the telly, that's fucken huge! That's so cool, you're so lucky.' I was so excited it was like I was going myself.

  'Yeah, it's pretty big. We're tendering to design the buildings on the Australia island. I'll have to leave next Friday, though, so I can't be in Melbourne. I wanted to take you somewhere really fancy. It's been ages since we've been out on a "date". Remember what that was like?'

  'Yes, I do. But we can do it another time.'

  'You don't sound upset.'

  'I'm not upset – I'm happy for you! You're going to be working on the world's biggest project. Truth be known I'm a bit jealous!'

  'But it's your birthday.'

  'Yes, but I have one every year, it's not a big deal.'

  'I'd hate you to put work before my birthday.'

  'And that's the difference between me and you, James. I can see this is the chance of a lifetime, and I'm excited for you. I'm putting you first.' I hoped he might see how unsupportive he was earlier in the year when he moaned constantly about me following my career dream.

  'What will you do for your birthday, then?' he said, contrite.

  'Oh, probably go out with the girls and drink cocktails and eat food. Everything I like doing. Might get a bit messy, it's been a while.'

  'I worry about you when you drink too much.'

  'Oh for God's sake, I hardly ever do it any more, and if I do I'm at home. And you don't need to worry, I'm a big girl and can look after myself.'

  'When you come home for Christmas we'll have a double celebration, okay? We can psych ourselves up for that.'

  'My bags have just come out on the carousel, so I better grab them. I'm so tired I'll sleep like a baby. I'll call you on Monday. Congratulations, James, I'm so proud of you.'

  I didn't have the heart to tell him we wouldn't be waking up together on Christmas Day. Mum had asked me to come home to Coolangatta for Christmas, as usual, and for the first time in four years I'd decided to make the effort. My brothers Benjamin and Matt and sister Giselle were going to be there with their kids, and I was looking forward to seeing them all. It had been so long my nieces and nephews probably wouldn't even recognise me by no
w. James was already flat-spirited about missing my birthday, though, and I didn't want him even contemplating not going to Dubai as a consequence of me going north in December.

  On the way home in the cab, I called Alice. She was out for dinner with Liza and Tony, so couldn't talk properly, but she ducked into the ladies for a quick chat. 'Just wanted to let you know that it looks like they're sorting things out,' she said. 'We're on a double-date, and Liza looks happy.'

  'So what changed?' I asked.

  'Don't know,' Alice said. 'You'll have to ask her yourself.'

  The long cab ride back to St Kilda also gave me time to return text messages to Sylvia and Josie about my birthday.

  Hi, back in Melbs. B'day drinks next Sat night perfect. Speak soon, Px

  Mike's message said:

  Hi Miss Tully, long time, hope life's treating u kindly. The Copper

  It had been a long time. I texted him back:

  It's my b'day next Sat, thought u might like 2 buy me a drink.

  He answered straight away:

  Night shift next w/end but can u do lunch?

  I texted back:

  Lunch perfect, spk later. P

  Lunch was a good option – it meant I could meet the girls that night for drinks. Having so much time to spend with friends was one of the best parts about living in Melbourne. I realised now how conservative my life back home in Sydney had become after I'd met James. I really only ever saw him on weekends, because of our work schedules, so I hadn't been out partying much. Now I was in my new job, I was working even harder and really relished having my weekends to myself to unwind. I was kind of glad James wasn't coming down, just so I could have some fun with the girls.

  forty-one

  Kissing cousins

  I was excited about celebrating my birthday in Melbourne. I had a full day planned so that I wouldn't really miss the girls in Sydney and James in Dubai. Before I was barely awake, though, the doorbell rang and there was a massive bunch of long-stemmed red roses from James. They were James all over: classy, elegant, expensive. I loved them. I put them in a vase immediately, then crawled back into bed and read the card three times: Happy birthday, babe. Sorry I'm not there. Love, James.

  Somehow I felt something was missing from the message, some part of James's love had gone, even though the roses suggested otherwise, and as I looked at the card again I couldn't blame him. I had been away for ten months and I hadn't been near as committed to keeping in touch as he had. I hadn't called him daily like a girlfriend should. Instead, the calls had given way to Facebook emails and late-night text messages when I had time. Not even I would bother waiting twelve months for me.

  Shelley came crashing into my room at nine am. 'Haaaaaapy birthday, princess!'

  'Do I really behave like a princess?' I was still worried about how Josie had said I was hard work.

  'You are a princess, but that's okay, cos I'm a princess too, and this is our castle. You wanna go out for some brekky? It's going to be a scorcher,' she said as she pulled the curtains open and let the sun stream in. It was already hot.

  'Yeah, but let's go low-key – I've got lunch and then cake at Aunt Nell's to get through . . . My birthday is all about eating, it seems.'

  'Ah, to absorb the alcohol – speaking of which, I'll be back in a minute.' And she walked out of the room. My phone went and it was Dannie and Alice together, singing 'Happy Birthday' in their loudest high-pitched voices.

  'I'm so glad neither of you took up singing as a career,' I joked, with tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard.

  'So are we!' Alice said. 'Wish you were here, sis, the sun's beautiful, the ocean's glistening . . .'

  'And I don't have the kids,' Dannie yelled with joy.

  'Hey, don't have too much fun today – it is my birthday, remember.'

  'Of course, but we're using your birthday to catch up and eat and shop. Liza's working, as usual,' Dannie said, as Shelley walked back into the room with a bottle of bubbly.

  'Sounds like fun, but listen, I'll have to let you go. I'm off for breakfast with Shelley then a full day of indulgence. I might do the drunken dial tonight so turn your phones off.'

  'Bye, say hi to Shelley, see ya, ciao!'

  I thought of them up there together and I momentarily wished I was there too, but then Shelley handed me a glass of champagne.

  'It's not French, but then neither are we. It's something to mark the arrival of your good self on the planet. Happy birthday!'

  'Happy birthday to me, then.' I sipped the foam that was about to spill over the rim.

  Barely awake but already tipsy, we sat at the Espy for brekky. I knew I'd be having a big day and so wanted to fill myself with some carbs and protein for the celebrations ahead. I looked out to the sea and felt completely content.

  'I could live here,' I said to the horizon.

  'You do live here.' Shelley looked at me confused.

  'I mean for longer, I've only got eight weeks left.'

  'Oh, don't start on about leaving already! Our celebrations will turn into a wake, and that's an excuse for a drink we should save up.'

  ♥

  Mike took me to a funky Italian place on Chapel Street for my birthday lunch. 'It's Kylie's favourite,' he told me as we took our reserved table outside. I liked it the minute we sat down. The waiters were young Italian hunks and very friendly. Their service was effortless and efficient. They explained the dishes and the wine with obvious passion, but I couldn't understand a word they were saying: it was all in Italian. Mike's bilingual skills came as a complete surprise.

  'What?' he asked, as I sat there mouth agape. 'I told you there was more to me than being a cop.'

  'A Campari Prosecco for the signorina?' said Fabio the waiter, who was back at our table almost immediately.

  'Um, yes, I guess so,' I said and shrugged my shoulders and smiled at Mike. As Fabio walked off I followed him with my eyes back into the restaurant and saw Campari bottles lining the walls.

  We were still reading the menu when a man rushed to the doorway of the restaurant yelling, 'You're all drug dealers, stop dealing drugs to my wife!'

  The whole restaurant – inside and out – stopped still. It was like a scene out of a movie.

  'Shit,' Mike said, 'stay put,' and he got up swiftly and took the man aside, holding him gently but firmly by the arm. The guy was wearing grey tracksuit pants and a black T-shirt and I didn't imagine for one second he was packing a pistol or any other weapon, but he was agitated and really pissed off.

  One of the cute waiters went over to them and asked, 'Is everything all right here?'

  'Get him, go get him, I want to see him!' the guy shouted, craning round, trying to look for someone in the restaurant. 'You're all drug dealers,' he said, over and over again. I didn't know who 'him' was, but knew it was someone that I didn't really want to be seeing there and then. It was exciting, like an Aussie-style version of The Godfather.

  'Get out or I'll call the police,' the waiter said calmly. I had to strain to hear him. Was he trying to defuse the situation because there was some truth in the man's allegations? I saw Mike pull out his badge and show them both. It was high drama. I grabbed Fabio and whispered in his ear.

  'So, should I be nervous or afraid?'

  'No, signorina, he has just found out his wife is having an affair, and he is angry and blaming someone who worked here some years ago.' He briefly rested his hand on mine. 'Please don't be worried. I think your boyfriend the policeman is sorting it out.' Before I could clarify that Mike wasn't my boyfriend, the waiter was gone and so too was the angry man. Mike was on his mobile. I just sat and observed the other patrons, who were all watching Mike with interest. Their eyes followed him as he came back and sat down opposite me.