Pictures of Lily

  ‘Can I help you?’ I ask coolly. The twat is wearing dark sunglasses.

  ‘I’m here to see Jonathan.’

  ‘Your name?’

  He frowns with irritation. ‘Pier Frank.’

  ‘Mr Laurence is out to lunch,’ I say. ‘Niles is doing the interview.’

  ‘Who’s Niles?’

  ‘One of our junior writers,’ I say smoothly.

  ‘I know you, don’t I?’ he asks out of the blue. ‘Don’t you recognise me?’ He removes his sunglasses. His eyes are bloodshot and his skin is pasty. He’s nowhere near as attractive as he was last night.

  ‘I was at your launch. With my friend, Nicola, from downstairs in reception.’ Then I add pointedly, ‘I think you might have met her too.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yes. Well, where’s Niles?’

  ‘Follow me.’ I get up and lead the way, revelling in his obvious discomfort. ‘Good luck with the interview,’ I say as I open the door. ‘I’m sure we’ll write some super-nice things about you.’

  ‘Whatever did you say to him?’ Nicola squeals an hour later when Pier has left the building.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I play innocent.

  ‘He pretended to be all surprised to see me and asked if I’d been on reception earlier. I said, yes I had, and he said he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed me. It must’ve been his dark glasses.’

  From the tone of her voice I can tell she’s not buying it and I’m glad.

  ‘What a wombat,’ she adds, and I grin at the use of the word. ‘He said he’d call me.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yep. I shrugged and said I didn’t have access to a phone, but you know, “good luck with things and I’ll see you around”.’

  ‘Seriously?’ I giggle at the thought of Nicola sitting there in front of three telephones on reception desk and saying such a thing.

  She laughs along with me. ‘Oh, I wish I hadn’t shagged him. Oops – gotta go,’ she adds, hanging up before I can comment.

  The editorial assistant Bronte has recovered from her operation and by the end of the following week I feel quite sad that I have to leave. Xanthe has continued to be nice to me – we’ve gone out for lunch a couple of times – and I also got the chance to help out on the picture desk and chat to Kip, the assistant who returned from holiday on Monday. When I leave on Friday, Xanthe gives me a goody bag filled with beauty treats and Kip promises that he’ll consider me if they ever need holiday cover on the picture desk. I also hand Jonathan a copy of my CV.

  ‘Please think of me if you hear of anything,’ I implore.

  ‘I absolutely will,’ he assures me. ‘Thanks for stepping in at such short notice, Lily.’

  ‘It’s been my pleasure,’ I tell him sincerely, feeling a buzz of anticipation at what the future could hold for my career.

  ‘I’m going to find it quite strange going back to reception after working on a magazine for almost two weeks,’ I say to Richard later that night.

  ‘You’ll be okay,’ he tells me. ‘It’s not like you don’t enjoy your job.’

  ‘Yes, I do like it. Well, I like Nicola and Mel,’ I correct myself. ‘But it’s not very challenging.’

  ‘What, and working as a secretary was?’ he asks.

  ‘I wasn’t a secretary,’ I reply, annoyed.

  ‘Editorial assistant, then. Isn’t it the same thing?’

  ‘No, it’s much more than that,’ I say crossly, even though in actual fact it’s not that different.

  ‘Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.’ He looks contrite. ‘I think you’re great at what you do.’

  I stare at the TV in a huff. Great at what I do. What about what I could do?

  ‘Can you pass me the remote?’ he asks when an advert break comes on five minutes later.

  ‘What don’t you get it yourself?’ I retort. The offending object is on the coffee table in front of us.

  ‘Hey!’ he exclaims. ‘Are you still angry at me?’

  ‘Can’t you bloody tell?’ I rant. I’ve been sitting here getting increasingly worked up while he’s been happily watching some crap on the telly. He should know he’s upset me!

  ‘But Lily, I didn’t even say anything.’ He looks utterly confused and taken aback by my reaction.

  ‘You said I was a secretary,’ I practically shout.

  ‘So what?’ Richard cries. ‘What’s wrong with being a secretary? Or a receptionist? I don’t know what’s got into you. You were happy enough before.’

  ‘I was never happy!’ I shout angrily. ‘The only thing I’ve ever been happy doing is looking after animals and taking photographs!’

  ‘WHAT?’ He’s a bit beside himself. ‘What are you going on about, looking after animals?’ He’s raising his voice too, now, and a sudden sense of calm washes over me. I haven’t told him how I worked at a conservation park as a teenager. I’ve tried to blank it from my past because it’s too painful to relive. Now I’ve gone and done it and I have to explain. ‘Lily, what the fuck?’

  I sigh and close my eyes. I really, really don’t want to go into this.

  ‘I used to work at the conservation park with Michael. When I first came to Australia,’ I add, glancing at him. He’s still frowning with exasperation.

  ‘Right?’ Add confusion to that look.

  ‘I really loved it,’ I say simply.

  ‘What, when you were fifteen?’ he checks.

  ‘Fifteen, sixteen . . . I only worked there for the summer holidays, but I’ve always regretted leaving. I know it’s too late to do anything about it, but it still makes me sad sometimes.’

  He reaches over and rubs my arm. ‘Don’t be sad. Come here.’

  ‘No, I don’t feel like it,’ I say sulkily and he takes his hand away. I know I’m being high maintenance, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to go to him, I want him to come to me.

  I’d like him to ask me to explain myself more, to tell him how at least working in the field of photography seems more attainable all of a sudden, but he’s annoyed at my snub. I turn my focus to the television, and a minute later remember that dinner’s in the oven and leap to my feet. That’s the end of our so-called heart-to-heart for now.

  Chapter 20

  On Sunday night, I get a call from my friend Vickie in Adelaide.

  ‘I’ve got some bad news. Tammy’s dad had a heart attack,’ she tells me. ‘He died overnight in hospital.’

  ‘Oh no, poor Tammy! And Shane! How are they?’

  ‘Devastated. The funeral’s on Wednesday. Do you think you can come back for it?’

  ‘Um . . .’ I haven’t been back to Adelaide since I left at the age of nineteen.

  ‘I know she’d like you to be there.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ I promise. ‘I’ll have to see if I can get the time off work.’

  ‘You can stay with me and Jaegar, if you like. It’ll be squashy, though.’ They live in a studio flat.

  ‘Thanks. I might even be able to get a cheap deal at one of the city hotels.’

  ‘Please come,’ she begs.

  After I hang up the phone I turn to Richard.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, having overheard my half of the conversation.

  ‘Tammy’s dad has had a heart attack. Vickie thinks I should go to the funeral. It’s on Wednesday.’

  He nods. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

  I hesitate. On the one hand I would love his company. On the other, I wonder if I should go back to Adelaide alone.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I tell him. ‘I know work’s really busy at the moment. Have you had any luck replacing that guy?’ I’m referring to the apprentice Nathan suspected had been nicking stuff. Nathan himself caught him in the act last week and fired him on the spot. They’re now a man short with a build deadline approaching.

  ‘Not yet,’ Richard replies. ‘I’m doing some interviews tomorrow. I’ll come,’ he decides.

  ‘You don’t have to,’ I assure him.

  ‘I will.’

&nb
sp; It’s a strange feeling returning to Adelaide after all these years. And with Richard with me, it almost doesn’t seem real. So much has changed, the airport for one. Gone is the tiny old building, replaced with a brand new glass and steel structure, and when Vickie drives us along North Terrace, I barely recognise it. The trees have been taken down and the pavements widened, opening up the views to the old historical buildings belonging to the museum, university and churches. Blocks of flats and university housing have shot up everywhere.

  Vickie works at a café in North Adelaide where she and her boyfriend Jaegar live, but she takes an hour out of her day to collect us at lunchtime and then hands over the keys to her silver Toyota Yaris.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I check. She said she’d lend us her wheels when I told her we’d booked our flight.

  ‘Of course. I’ll walk home after work and get ready. If you could pick Jaegar and me up at seven-ish, we’ll go for dinner on Rundle Street if that’s what you want?’

  The funeral is tomorrow morning and our flight is at four o’clock in the afternoon, so tonight we’re catching up with old friends. Jo and her boyfriend Ash are also meeting us later, but Tammy, understandably, is spending time with her mum and Shane.

  ‘That would be great.’ I smile warmly.

  ‘Thanks, Vickie,’ Richard adds.

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘Shall we go to the hotel to check in?’ I ask when we’re alone. We did manage to find a hotel doing a cheap last-minute deal, which is lucky because Vickie’s studio flat would have been a squash enough with three people, let alone four.

  ‘No point. We may as well check in later. Let’s go up to the hills.’

  I stifle a sigh. ‘Really? We could check in and then go for an ice cream or something.’

  ‘Lily . . .’ Richard told me last night that he really wants to see where I spent my first few years in Australia.

  ‘Why?’ I’d asked.

  ‘This place obviously made an impact on you. And I want to understand why.’

  There’s no hope of that without Ben here. But Richard was adamant about visiting Michael’s house in Piccadilly at the very least. I reluctantly agreed.

  ‘Okay, but I’m driving,’ I insist now. If we’re going into the hills, I have to be in control.

  ‘Really?’ he says, surprised. I don’t think I’ve ever driven Richard anywhere before. I used to occasionally use Mum’s car when I lived with her in Bondi, but I could only afford public transport when I moved into a minuscule studio flat of my own. That was before I met Richard, of course, and then he had a car and I was happy to commute to work by ferry.

  ‘Yes,’ I say firmly. He’s already in the driver’s seat so we both climb out and swap places. I experience a strange little thrill about being behind the wheel again.

  He grins across at me once we’re all belted up. ‘Let’s go.’

  Hardly anyone takes the long and winding road up into the hills any more. Soon after I arrived in Australia, they finished a tunnel which cuts right through the rock and shortens the journey considerably. Our ears pop as we pass through it. The grass is greener than it would have been in high summer, and I kind of miss the creamy-yellow colour of the dry stuff. I remember complaining about it when I first moved here, but I’ve learned to appreciate it.

  I flick on the indicator and move left onto the slip-road to Crafers.

  Piccadilly Valley is as familiar to me as it always was. We drive along Piccadilly Road, past houses nestled in amongst the gums, the paddock that’s still filled with goats, and the small leafy-green vineyard. Eventually we round the corner and come across Michael’s house. I slow to a stop and stare straight ahead at the boundary fence to the conservation park. Clear as day in my mind I remember Ben vaulting himself over it in the direction of Carminow Castle and Mount Lofty. I shake myself out of my flashback.

  ‘That’s Michael’s house there,’ I say quietly, looking left out of the window.

  ‘Shall we see if he’s in?’ Richard asks.

  I shake my head. ‘His truck’s not there. He must be at work.’

  ‘You never know,’ Richard says hopefully.

  I decide to indulge him and unclick my seatbelt. He follows me up the gravel footpath to the front door. Instinctively I put my hand on the doorknob and turn it. When it opens I halt in surprise. Michael never used to lock it if he was in. I quickly and quietly close it again and then knock, nerves swirling around my stomach. I’m not prepared for this.

  Moments later, the door opens and Michael stands there, his face registering puzzlement, recognition and finally, delight.

  ‘Lily!’ he booms. ‘Is it really you?’

  I nod, smiling. ‘Yes, it’s me.’ Before I can speak the words he’s got me in a bear hug.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ He clutches my arms and beams down at me.

  ‘We came back for Kevin Stamford’s funeral. You know, Tammy and Shane’s dad?’

  ‘Aah, yes. Such a shock,’ he empathises, glancing at Richard.

  ‘This is Richard,’ I say, as he lets me go and shakes Richard’s hand.

  ‘Hello, there! I’ve heard all about you from my son. Did Josh know you were coming back?’

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet. Is he going to the funeral?’

  ‘I imagine so. Come in, come in! Can I get you a cuppa?’

  ‘You certainly can.’ How could I refuse? ‘When I didn’t see your truck, I thought you must be at work,’ I say, once we’re seated in the kitchen around the same old table, covered with the same green plastic tablecloth.

  ‘No, Janine’s got the ute today.’

  ‘How is she?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s great.’ He smiles. ‘She’ll be sorry she missed you.’

  ‘Please give her my best.’

  ‘I will, darl.’ I don’t want to talk about the conservation park, so I’m horrified when he continues. ‘She never did understand why you quit work like that.’ I shift uncomfortably in my seat, ever aware of Richard’s presence beside me. ‘She always said you had a way with the koalas. I think she thought you’d return one day, but I guess you’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Josh says you work in publishing now?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say it’s bigger or better,’ I start to protest.

  ‘Sounds pretty exciting to me,’ Michael says.

  ‘I’m just a receptionist,’ I add lamely.

  ‘Just a receptionist,’ Richard scoffs, then to Michael, ‘she’s too modest.’

  ‘She always was,’ Michael agrees with a knowing look. ‘What about you, Richard? What do you do?’

  I would give anything to ask after Ben, but I can’t.

  ‘Why did you quit?’ Richard asks when we’re back in the car.

  ‘I was starting school, it was no big deal.’ I brush him off. ‘What did you think of him? He’s nice, isn’t he?’

  Richard nods. ‘Yeah. Really nice.’

  ‘I can’t believe my mum dumped him.’

  He raises his eyebrows. ‘No comment.’

  I grin, relieved I’m off the hook with the questioning. ‘Where to, now?’

  ‘Can we drive past the conservation park?’

  ‘That’s it there.’ I point to the boundary fence.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asks, looking up towards the top of the hills.

  ‘Carminow Castle.’

  ‘Can we go up there?’

  ‘Okay.’ I admit defeat. ‘I’ll take you up to Mount Lofty to see the view.’ I cannot believe I’m doing this.

  ‘Nice!’ Richard breathes, gazing down at the city and the ocean beyond it. I brought him through the lobby, somehow finding the willpower to resist the side of the building that looks down on Piccadilly Valley. Even here though, I’m haunted by a vision of dark-blue eyes staring into mine in the darkness.

  My phone starts to ring, rousing me from my reverie. I dig it out of my bag and peer at the caller ID.

  ‘Hi, Josh.’

  ‘Hey, you’r
e back.’

  Richard glances at me and I indicate that I’ll take the call away from the crowds. He nods in understanding so I wander off slowly.

  ‘Only for the funeral.’

  ‘I know. Terrible, isn’t it?’

  ‘Awful. Kev always seemed so full of life. Is Shane okay?’ I look over, and when I see that Richard is reading one of the information plaques, I continue walking.

  ‘He’s pretty cut up,’ Josh answers. ‘Have you spoken to Tammy?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ll try her later.’

  ‘What are you up to this arvo?’

  ‘I’m giving Richard a tour of the hills. We’ve just been to see your dad, actually.’

  ‘I know – he called me.’

  ‘Aah, so that’s how you knew we were here.’

  ‘That’s right. Do you fancy meeting me in Stirling for a quick drink? Tina might be able to get off work.’

  ‘Sure, but I thought your garage was in Mount Barker?’

  ‘It is, but I need to take one of the cars for a spin. I can pop out for an hour.’

  ‘What about Tina?’

  ‘She works in the hairdresser’s in Stirling. I’ll give her a buzz now to see if she can take a break. See you at the pub in half an hour?’

  ‘Perfect.’ I end the call and stare down at the rolling hills of Piccadilly Valley, speckled with green and grey gums. This is where I told him I loved him. Did he ever tell me he loved me? No. Did he love me?

  Did you?

  His eyes stare back at me inside my mind, but he doesn’t answer.

  It’s almost as though I expect some epiphany to come to me, standing here. Something to tell me what to do. But there’s nothing. My heart says nothing. I turn and walk back to join Richard.

  I don’t mean to drive past Ben’s house, really I don’t, but somehow we end up taking a detour on the way to Stirling. As we approach I spy a red Suzuki parked on his drive and my whole body stiffens. I slow down and stare out of Richard’s side of the car, painfully alert. And then the door opens and a woman walks out. She has curly dark hair and is wearing a long, tie-dyed maxi dress. I see the tiny hands of a small child wrap around her legs from behind and then we’ve passed them and I sit bolt upright in shock and stare out of the rearview mirror.