The Blind Date Surprise

by Barbara Hannay

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not very pleasant to discover I’ve been used, Damien. I value myself more highly than a form of amusement for a youngster with raging hormones.’

  He flushed more brightly.

  ‘You don’t look much like your photo,’ she added and he looked so hugely embarrassed that she began to feel sorry for him.

  Theo chipped in. ‘And I didn’t appreciate the way you dashed off leaving some garbled message and expecting me to pick up the pieces. So I’ve told Annie that she’s welcome to use your room for as long as she wants to stay in Brisbane.’

  About to protest, Damien thought better of it. ‘So where’s all my gear?’

  ‘It’s been stored at Pop’s.’

  He seemed relieved to hear that and he nodded slowly. ‘Maybe Pop will take pity on me and let me stay at his place.’

  ‘You don’t deserve any kind of pity,’ said Theo. ‘But no doubt your grandfather will relent. It’ll be up to you to explain to him why you don’t have a roof over your head.’

  ‘No roof?’ Annie felt suddenly guilty.

  Theo shot her a quick warning frown. ‘Don’t worry about him. My father will take him in.’

  Apparently resigned to his fate now, Damien slung a small blue backpack over his shoulder. Annie couldn’t help noticing the family resemblance between the youth and the uncle. It wasn’t just that they both had steady hazel eyes, or the fact that they were both tall and had the same shiny dark hair—or that they both wore glasses.

  With his confession behind him, Damien’s face showed the beginnings of the same intelligence and strength of character she’d found so readily in Theo’s. In another six or seven years, when Damien filled out and matured, the resemblance would be even stronger.

  Now, he backed towards the door. ‘I hope you enjoy my room, Annie.’ He spoke with a polite dignity that was another echo of his uncle. But then the effect was spoiled by a cheeky smirk. ‘But it can’t be much fun for you hanging around here with old Uncle Theo.’

  ‘Get going,’ barked Theo.

  Damien went.

  ‘Oh, boy.’ Annie felt shaken and she sank on to a kitchen stool.

  Theo was watching her, his eyes shadowed with concern. ‘I’m sorry you had to find out about him so abruptly.’

  She frowned. ‘Why did you keep him a secret? Couldn’t you have told me sooner?’

  He began to fill the coffee maker. ‘I was trying to spare you.’

  ‘From embarrassment?’ She managed a wan smile. ‘So you cleared all his things out of his room because you didn’t want me to realise how young he was?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She nodded, then sighed. ‘Actually, that was kind of you. I must admit I feel pretty small when I think how gullible I was to come charging down here for a big city date—with a teenager.’

  She stared at the dazzle of morning sunlight streaming through the glass doors from the courtyard, thinking of that happy, excited self who’d come rushing to the city, full of high hopes.

  ‘I was so worked up about coming away for that date I actually asked for advice from a columnist in the Mirrabrook Star.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Our little local newspaper.’

  Theo smiled. ‘Were you given good advice?’

  ‘Yes, it was excellent. It was exactly what I wanted to hear.’ Annie’s answering smile was cheeky as she rose and walked across the room and stood in the sun’s warmth, fluffing her damp hair with her hands to help it to dry.

  Behind her, the room began to fill with the delicious aroma of coffee and she began to feel calmer. After all, anger was a choice, and why spoil a beautiful morning when the mystery of the Damien-Theo link had finally been laid to rest.

  ‘How did Damien come to live with you?’ she asked. ‘Are you his guardian?’

  ‘No, he’s my sister’s boy, but she’s a single mother and when Damien hit his teens he became too much for her to handle. As I’m sure you can imagine from this latest stunt!’

  ‘You took over raising him?’

  ‘Jane felt he was lacking in male guidance and I volunteered to lend a hand. It ended up becoming more or less a permanent arrangement.’

  She stared at him as she digested this. ‘So you’ve looked after Damien all though his high school years?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Solo?’

  He nodded.

  ‘It can’t have been easy for you.’

  Theo shrugged. ‘I’ll admit he’s been a challenge. But Jane was working flat out to make a go of her career and she and Damien were having terrible clashes.’

  He reached into an overhead cupboard for coffee cups. ‘I must admit there have been occasions when he’s almost been too much for me. But, on the whole, he’s not a bad kid—just young. Half his problem is he’s too damn smart.’

  ‘Is he a university student?’

  ‘Not yet. He decided to take a year off between school and university. And I supported that decision. I thought it was a good idea to let him mature a bit before he started studying. He’s been working as a waiter in a bar, but it’s not enough to keep him occupied. And, as you said, his hormones are rampant. Spare time and eighteen-year-old hormones are not a good combination.’

  ‘Maybe he’ll settle down next year when he gets his teeth into some serious study.’

  ‘Yes, I’m quietly confident that he’ll turn out okay.’

  Annie nodded. ‘I don’t doubt that Damien’s very clever. He certainly has a way with words. I got no hint from his emails that he was a teenager.’ She shot Theo a shy smile. ‘He obviously holds you in very high regard.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘When he was writing to me he modelled himself on you.’

  ‘By claiming to love Italy and philosophy?’

  ‘And Basil. He was very entertaining, very interesting. Sweet and charming, too.’

  A wave of heat swept over her as she remembered the way she’d described him in the Ask Auntie letter. ‘I thought he was a wonderfully warm, funny and clever man.’ She shot him a coy smile. ‘A man like you.’

  Across the kitchen their eyes met and Annie felt a sweet pang of longing, that tug of attraction that snatched at her breath.

  She distracted herself by hurrying to help with breakfast—dropping slices of bread into the toaster and fetching plates from the cupboard. And she was relieved when the toast popped up and she could busy herself buttering it while Theo poured their coffees.

  But as they carried their mugs and plates out to the little table in the courtyard, she laughed suddenly.

  ‘What’s the joke?’ he asked.

  ‘I just saw the funny side of this.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Damien’s efforts on the Internet aren’t all that different from the antics of a certain young man, who shall remain nameless, who used to try to attract girls by sitting in the backs of bars with a scholarly book and a pipe.’

  Theo’s valiant attempt to look angry failed. ‘You’ll keep, Annie McKinnon,’ he said as a reluctant smile twitched his lips. ‘You’ll keep.’

  ‘Theo’s invited me to some sort of staff social function at the university,’ Annie told Mel when she phoned her mid-morning.

  ‘Far out, Annie! Do you really have to go?’

  ‘I guess so,’ she said, feeling a little taken aback by Mel’s reaction. ‘I told Theo I’d go, but I must say I’m a bit nervous. I’ve been trying to swot up on philosophy this morning and I’ve been thumbing through some of his books, but not much is sticking. Do you have any tips?’

  ‘Heck, no. I’ve forgotten most of the philosophy I ever learned.’

  ‘The ideas are so hard to hang on to. I get to the point where I think I’ve got my head around a concept, but the minute I try to move on to the next idea, the first one slides straight out of my head. I feel so dumb.’

  Mel chuckled. ‘Believe me, you’re not dumb, Annie. Why do you think
people spend years studying philosophy in incremental stages, rather than trying to cram centuries of accumulated wisdom into a half an hour?’

  ‘I guess.’ Annie sighed. ‘Do you think philosophers talk about the weather and the quality of the wine like ordinary people?’

  ‘For Pete’s sake, they are ordinary people. But, whatever you do, don’t let them know you’ve figured that out.’ There was a pause and then Mel said, ‘Annie, you’re going all out to impress this guy, aren’t you?’

  ‘He’s worth it, Mel.’ Annie closed her eyes. She tingled all over whenever she thought about tonight—especially when she thought about coming home from this function—and taking up where she and Theo had left off last night—exploring their mutual attraction.

  ‘If you want my advice,’ said Mel, ‘take a nice long bubble bath and shampoo your hair and paint your toenails. Forget the cramming. Just wear a short skirt and those professors won’t be grilling you to find out what you know about Socrates.’

  ‘Mel, you used to be such a feminist. What happened?’

  ‘I slammed up against real life. Hey, I’ve got to go, Annie. The boss is looking daggers. Catch you tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And try to have fun tonight.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  The minute Annie and Theo arrived at the faculty cocktail party, she realised that enjoying herself was going to be a bigger challenge than she’d feared. For starters, she’d made a terrible mistake. Her dress was totally wrong.

  She should have paid attention this morning when Theo assured her that the dark red dress she’d worn to the play last night would be fine for this evening’s function. She certainly shouldn’t have gone back to the shop where she’d bought the pink jeans and she most definitely should not have gone anywhere near the racks of glittery party wear that Victoria had warned her against.

  But they’d been calling to her.

  And she’d fallen head over heels in love with the most divine little dress, covered with tawny pink pearls and softly shimmering sequins.

  When she’d tried it on she’d been blown away by the transformation. It was as if she’d been touched by a magic wand and turned into a film star. She loved it. From the fine spaghetti straps to the scalloped knee-length hem, the dress was gorgeous. It clung softly to her shape, but was tastefully demure and its understated colour toned fabulously with her complexion.

  But it was fabulously wrong.

  She realised that now as she stood, frozen in horror, in the doorway of the university’s Staff and Graduates Club. Her spirits sank through the soles of her sequinned sandals.

  She turned to Theo. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘My dress. It’s all wrong.’

  ‘It isn’t, Annie. It’s wonderful.’

  ‘But everyone else is in black.’

  ‘Not everyone.’

  Her eyes skirted the room. ‘Just about.’

  In the far corner, surrounded by a little forest of potted palms, earnest, black-clad musicians were playing a string quartet. Everywhere else, people with drinks in their hands were standing and talking quietly in dignified groups.

  The men were wearing dinner suits, but apart from a very arty looking woman draped in an exotic profusion of scarves, the women were wearing elegant, conservative dresses in subdued hues like black, dark smoky-blue or deep claret. Even brown.

  Nothing pink—tawny or otherwise. And certainly nothing sparkly. Unless you counted the occasional head of silver hair.

  If only she could run away and hide.

  These people belonged together. They were an exclusive club. And for Annie they spelled other. Not her crowd.

  But Theo placed a protective hand at the small of her back and ushered her forward.

  And a woman who looked a well-preserved, supremely confident, sixty years of age, hurried towards them. ‘Theo, dear, I’m so pleased you could come.’ She had one of those deep, mellifluous, cultured voices that made Annie instantly nervous. She smiled at Annie. ‘How do you do, my dear? I’m Harriet Fletcher.’

  ‘Hello, Harriet.’ At least Annie’s hand wasn’t trembling visibly as she held it out.

  Shaking hands, Harriet said, ‘You haven’t been to one of these evenings before, have you?’

  ‘No.’

  To Annie’s surprise, Harriet took her arm as if they’d been friends for years. ‘Then let me prise you away from Theo so you can meet everyone. Theo, you can look after Annie’s drink.’

  ‘Champagne?’ he called to her as she was led away.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Before she knew it, Annie had a glass of champagne in her hand and, under Harriet Fletcher’s supervision, had been introduced to a dizzying whirlwind of strangers. But, too soon, more new guests arrived and Harriet hurried away to greet them. Annie looked around for Theo, but couldn’t catch sight of him, which meant she was left alone with a group of people whose names she couldn’t remember.

  Shoulders back, Annie.

  She turned to her right and discovered a bearded, balding fellow with a pleasant face. When she smiled and said hello, he patiently reintroduced himself and she responded warmly.

  ‘Are you staff?’ he asked.

  ‘No. I’m a guest of Theo Grainger.’

  He nodded. ‘And what’s your field?’

  ‘My field?’ For a frantic moment her mind flew into a panic. In desperation, she tried to jest. ‘Would a paddock of Brahman steers count?’

  This was met by a look of utter bewilderment.

  ‘I’m sorry, that was a very bad joke. I don’t have a field of study. Not yet, at any rate. You see, I help my brothers to run a cattle property in North Queensland.’

  ‘How fascinating,’ he said, returning her smile.

  And, to her surprise, she realised he meant it. He really was interested. He told her that he was an environmental scientist and that he’d conducted studies on the river systems in North Queensland.

  By the time Theo found her, she and the scientist were deep in a discussion of the varieties of fish that inhabited the Star River. They chatted for another five minutes or so and then Theo said, ‘I’m afraid I must drag Annie away to meet some members of the philosophy staff.’

  And Annie’s nervousness returned. These people would be Theo’s particular friends. What would they think of her? Her stomach clenched as she crossed the room beside him.

  ‘Are they all terribly clever?’ she asked.

  He smiled. ‘Terribly.’

  Oh, crumbs. She couldn’t remember a thing she’d read in his philosophy books this morning.

  Halfway across the room, she gripped his hand. ‘I’m scared,’ she said.

  He stopped and looked down at her. ‘You can’t be, Annie. You’re fearless.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘I saw how brave you were when—’ He suddenly shut his mouth as if he’d had second thoughts.

  ‘When?’

  Instead of answering, he lifted her hand to his lips and he kissed her fingers. Right there in front of everyone. And his tender smile was so beautiful she felt she might burst into tears.

  ‘Just be yourself, Annie,’ he said. ‘These people will love you. Come on.’

  They’d been heading for a group in the corner and now several faces, both friendly and curious, watched their approach. Annie couldn’t help noticing that none of the men in the group had beards or looked remotely like scruffy absent-minded professors. Nor, for that matter, did the women.

  Introductions were made and the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly as Theo explained that Annie was on a short visit from North Queensland.

  ‘How did you stumble across our Theo?’ asked a tall, dark, rather elegant woman, who’d been introduced simply as Claudia.

  Annie hadn’t been prepared for that question and her mouth turned dry as desert dust, but Theo rescued her.

  ‘Through my young nephew, Damien,’ he sai
d. ‘The two of them met chatting about philosophy over the Internet.’

  ‘So you’re a fellow philosopher?’ someone else asked.

  Somehow, Annie managed to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘I’m interested—fascinated, actually. But my understanding is very superficial. I think it might take me a thousand years to come to grips with Aristotle alone.’

  This was met by sympathetic smiles.

  ‘What’s young Damien doing these days?’ a man called Rex asked Theo.

  ‘All the wrong things,’ Theo growled.

  ‘How old is he now? About eighteen?’

  Theo nodded.

  ‘Six months working on a cattle property as a jackaroo would do him good,’ Annie suggested, and behind her back she crossed her fingers, hoping that she hadn’t been too outspoken.

  To her relief, her comment was met with unanimous agreement.

  ‘I read about a young eighteen-year-old who spent three months droving two thousand head of cattle across Queensland on his own,’ Rex said.

  ‘That’s pretty amazing,’ said Theo.

  A middle-aged man shook his head. ‘My kids could never cope with that kind of challenge. Apart from anything else, they couldn’t go anywhere without their Discmans.’

  ‘Or home-delivered pizzas,’ added a woman who was probably his wife.

  A plate of smoked oysters was passed around.

  ‘That colour suits you wonderfully, Annie,’ a woman in the group commented.

  ‘Actually, I’ve been wondering what you’d call a colour like that,’ said Claudia, less kindly.

  There was something about Claudia that unsettled Annie. Now, recognising that a deliberate shot had been fired, she couldn’t resist firing back. ‘The girl in the shop called it naked shimmer.’

  Rex chuckled. ‘Naked shimmer. I like that. Whatever it’s called, it should be compulsory.’

  Claudia rolled her eyes and pulled her mouth into a tightly contemptuous pout.

  And Annie prayed that the conversation would steer on to something else. Surely these people had deeper, more serious things to talk about? But it seemed that Claudia didn’t want to let her off the hook.

  ‘How are you coping with life in the city?’ Her smile was faintly patronising.