Pictures of Lily

  I’m sort of disappointed he hasn’t got it out again. He must be able to read this on my face because he says quietly, ‘I had to try to forget you, Lily.’

  ‘Even when you came back?’

  ‘Even when I came back.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You would have moved on.’

  ‘What if I hadn’t?’

  He doesn’t answer, staring across at me with a grave expression on his features. His jaw is set into a hard line, day-old stubble making him look even sexier than usual. My mind flicks to the bed inside the cabin and the desire to have him make love to me there is suddenly overwhelming.

  Richard, Richard, Richard! For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to remind you?

  Oh, but maybe if we had sex I’d be able to put him out of my mind once and for all.

  That is a crock of shit, and you know it.

  Spoilsport.

  I pull myself together and say, ‘Did I spy some crisps in that hamper?’

  Ben comes back to life, the atmosphere reverting to normal. ‘Yep. What do you want, salt and vinegar, chicken or plain?’

  ‘Salt and vinegar, please. Who would ever opt for boring old plain, hey?’

  ‘You’re right. I should have known you’d have no interest in them whatsoever.’

  ‘Why, because I’m a fussy cow?’

  He laughs. ‘No, because you’re anything but boring.’

  Stop saying things like that to me. It’s making me think of the bed again.

  ‘Are you going to catch me a fish, or what?’ I say rather huskily.

  ‘You can catch one yourself,’ he replies with a smile.

  Twenty minutes later, I feel a tug at the end of my line. We’re using handlines, not fishing rods. I’m holding onto the line itself and I can actually feel when a fish takes the bait.

  ‘Wind it in,’ Ben insists excitedly.

  A fish of about a foot long flaps and flutters as I drag it out of the water.

  ‘You caught a whiting!’ he exclaims, taking the wriggling fish off the line.

  ‘Your namesake,’ I laugh as he throws it in the Esky. ‘That was easy. What was all this business about a four o’clock start?’

  ‘Hey?’ He baits up my hook with another wriggling worm.

  ‘Back in Adelaide, you said I had to get up early. We’re catching fish now, aren’t we? What’s the point in getting up before it’s even light if you can catch fish in the middle of the day?’

  ‘If we were sitting out here in the midday sun during a hot Australian summer, you’d know.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  We catch one more whiting, a flathead and two ‘shitties’ as Ben calls the inedible fish, before we set off back to Middle Harbour again. He throws the latter back, but promises to cook me a fry-up sometime. ‘Maybe you could bring your family over to mine for dinner later this week?’ he suggests. ‘These won’t go far, but I can come back out here and get some more before then.’

  ‘Oh.’ I feel jumpy, can’t think what to say. ‘I doubt that will be possible.’

  ‘Oh, right. Sure.’ He looks away.

  ‘They’re going to be very busy, you see. It might be too much to organise.’ I try to convince him, but I’m guessing he thinks I’m embarrassed to introduce an older man to my dad. I feel awful, but there’s nothing I can say to make him think otherwise – except to tell the truth and explain that I have a fiancé. But let’s not go there, eh?

  ‘I never felt seasick.’ I try to project a tone of joviality into my voice to lighten things up as we pass through the Spit Bridge again.

  ‘You didn’t. Another thing you’re a natural at.’

  I suddenly feel aggravated and self-conscious. ‘I’m not a natural at anything, Ben. I don’t know why you keep saying things like that.’

  He glances at me, taken aback by my reaction.

  ‘I clearly see a different person from the one you see,’ he says after a while.

  ‘Yes, you clearly do, and I don’t know why.’

  ‘Hey,’ he says gently.

  ‘Just stop,’ I snap. ‘Stop saying these things to me.’

  His jaw clenches and he falls silent. The mood doesn’t shift even when we’re back in the car and he’s driving me to the bus stop.

  ‘I’ll take you to Manly,’ he says.

  ‘No, the bus is fine. Please – I mean it,’ I add firmly.

  He nods and pulls over on the side of the road. My stop is up ahead. He doesn’t speak.

  ‘Thanks for today,’ I say.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he replies.

  I sigh. ‘Sorry, I—’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he interrupts. ‘Here’s your bus coming now.’

  I hesitate, feeling panicky as the bus whooshes past me.

  ‘Quick,’ he urges, leaning across me to open up my door. I stumble out onto the pavement. ‘Call me,’ he shouts, and I turn and run for the bus.

  My heart is still in my mouth when I’m safely seated. What is wrong with me? Why do I get so anxious about leaving him every time? I’m going to see him again, aren’t I? Aren’t I?

  I sit on the bus and stare out of the window. My phone beeps and I see that I’ve missed a call from Richard and now he’s texted me. He’s home and is wondering where I am. I feel sick. I don’t want to see him. I want to run away.

  But I stay on the bus. I walk all the way down the hill to our house. It’s five o’clock and I should have been back hours ago. My mind has been ticking over fifteen to the dozen and I’ve decided to tell Richard about Ben. No, not everything. I’m not that . . . decent. But I’ll tell him that I bumped into an old friend and hopefully I’m a good enough actress that he won’t suspect there’s any more to it.

  ‘Hello?’ I call as I walk into the hall, shutting the door behind me. If I wasn’t seasick before, I certainly feel it now.

  ‘Hey!’

  I follow his voice into the living room. He’s lying on the sofa.

  ‘Have you been asleep?’ I ask edgily.

  ‘Yeah.’ He yawns. ‘Crashed out.’

  ‘Busy weekend?’

  ‘Full on.’ He opens up his arms to me. I hesitate a moment before walking towards him. He shuffles up against the back of the sofa so there’s enough room for me to squeeze along beside him. I lie down, feeling horribly deceitful as his arms encircle me. I rest my head on his chest. He feels different. Unfamiliar. He’s leaner than Ben. Not yet a man, man. I think he’s similar to how Ben was ten years ago, and I imagine Richard will become even broader in a few years, too. I wonder if I’ll be around to see it.

  ‘Mmm.’ He presses his lips to my forehead and squeezes me. ‘I missed you,’ he murmurs.

  I pull away from him. ‘Everyone else have a good time?’

  ‘Yeah, great.’

  ‘Did Lucy do much surfing?’

  ‘She did some. The waves were too big most of the time though.’ He continues. ‘She and Nathan are going back to England.’

  ‘No way! When?’

  ‘In a couple of months.’

  ‘What about the business?’

  ‘I’m going to carry on with it here – he’s going to do a renovation down in Somerset where Lucy’s family are from.’

  ‘How long will they be away?’

  ‘It’s looking like six months.’

  ‘Blimey. That’s a bit sad.’

  ‘You’re telling me. But you know what they’re like, they have to split their time between two countries, two families. That’s the way it is with them.’ He sniffs my coat. ‘Where have you been today?’

  ‘Well,’ I force a smile which I hope looks relaxed, ‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you on the phone, but I bumped into an old pal on the weekend who used to work at the conservation park.’ My heart is pounding.

  ‘Really?’ he asks with interest.

  ‘Yeah. Anyway, we caught up today.’

  ‘That’s bizarre because I heard from an old friend, too, yesterday.’

  Is that i
t? Am I off the hook? ‘Who?’

  ‘Do you recall me telling you about a girl called Ally who I met in England?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ My heart plummets. ‘She was your girlfriend, wasn’t she?’

  ‘She was,’ he admits. ‘Only for a couple of months. We broke it off when I came back here. We hadn’t been together long enough to put our lives on hold for two years.’

  I only knew Ben for a few weeks and I’ve put my life on hold for a decade . . .

  ‘I remember,’ I say. ‘She was staying on in the UK, but you only had a three-month work visa.’

  ‘That’s right. Don’t worry about it,’ he says quickly, touching my arm.

  ‘Is she back?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Why is she calling you?’

  ‘Lily, it’s okay,’ he insists, sincerity radiating from his warm brown eyes. ‘She was only calling to say hi. I told her about you. About how we’re engaged. She was really happy for me.’

  ‘Oh.’ My voice softens. ‘Are you planning to see her?’

  ‘Nah,’ he says. ‘I realise that would be a bit weird.’

  How bad do I feel now? ‘You can if you like,’ I say begrudgingly.

  ‘No!’ He laughs and wraps his arms back around me. ‘There’s no point.’

  I sigh and settle into his chest, guiltily.

  ‘How are your family?’ he asks.

  ‘Good. I saw them this morning. Dad mentioned about coming here for dinner tonight, but I thought you might be too knackered.’

  He yawns. ‘I am a bit, but we can have dinner with them. I guess I’d better get showered.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘So where have you been today?’ he asks as he gets up.

  Dammit! ‘Er, I went fishing, would you believe?’ I turn away quickly and lead the way to the bedroom.

  ‘Fishing!’ he echoes. ‘Is this friend male or female?’

  ‘Um, male.’ I try to sound casual.

  ‘Right.’ There’s uncertainty to his tone.

  ‘He’s an old friend of Michael’s. He’s, like, forty or something. He used to look out for me when I worked at the park.’

  ‘Sounds a bit dodgy if you ask me.’

  ‘Richard!’ I turn around and slap him, relieved to see he’s joking. ‘He was a good mate.’

  ‘As long as he wasn’t a cradle-snatcher.’

  I laugh, long and hard. A bit too long and hard because he’s looking at me in a funny way. ‘Don’t be a dick. Get in the shower.’

  He grins and walks out of the bedroom to the bathroom.

  Shit! I sit on the edge of the bed. That was horrible. Horrible! I cover my eyes in consternation, then immediately sit up straight again in case Richard returns. The shower turns on in the bathroom so I relax. But it’s only a momentary respite. I know I’m going to feel on edge for some time to come.

  ‘What did you get up to today?’ Dad asks me when the seven of us are seated at a huge wooden oblong table in Manly’s fancy new fish restaurant.

  ‘I went fishing actually, with an old friend.’

  ‘Did you catch anything?’

  ‘I did indeed.’

  ‘Did you?’ Richard interrupts with surprise.

  ‘Yep. I caught a whiting.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Oh, I left it with Ben.’ His name is out of my mouth before I can think of how else to say that sentence.

  ‘Bummer.’ Richard laughs.

  ‘He was going to fillet it.’

  ‘I know how to fillet fish,’ Richard says casually.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yeah. I used to go fishing with my uncle all the time.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,’ he says jokingly, then puts on a comedy voice. ‘At least we’ve got our whole lives together to find out.’

  My dad looks across at us and smiles warmly.

  Holy shit! I haven’t told him I’m engaged! I cannot believe I forgot to tell my dad – my DAD! – that I’m supposed to be getting married. I’ve been waiting to tell him in person, but then it didn’t even occur to me with everything else that was going on. How can I get out of this without Richard killing me?

  I glance at Richard and smile serenely. ‘I haven’t told them yet,’ I murmur.

  He looks at me, dumbstruck. ‘You haven’t?’

  ‘I wanted us to tell them together.’

  ‘Oh.’ The relief on his face is palpable.

  ‘Go on,’ I urge, plastering the smile even tighter to my face.

  Richard looks momentarily panicked and then gazes across at my dad’s expectant face. ‘Er, I probably should have spoken to you first, sir, so sorry about that, but I’ve asked Lily to marry me.’

  Squeal from Lorraine.

  ‘And she said yes.’

  ‘Aah, congratulations!’ Dad gets up and comes around to shake Richard’s hand while Lorraine leaps to her feet to give me a kiss and a hug.

  ‘I can’t believe you kept that quiet all weekend!’

  ‘Neither can I,’ I cry, aware of the irony that it’s the absolute truth.

  Kay, Olivia and Isabel, bless them, stay seated, as children usually do when adults are jumping around with excitement.

  I sit down again and try to keep smiling.

  ‘So when’s the big day?’ Lorraine asks with obvious delight.

  ‘Probably the year after next,’ I reply.

  ‘That’s good,’ Dad says. ‘That will give us plenty of time to save up again.’

  ‘Great. We’re thinking a summer wedding, too, so you’ll be able to come over when it’s nice and hot,’ Richard tells him.

  ‘That’d be great,’ Kay pipes up.

  ‘And is your dad going to give you away?’ Lorraine pries happily.

  ‘Of course,’ I say.

  Dad beams, Lorraine rubs him on his arm and underneath the table, Richard squeezes my hand – and I feel like the biggest bitch in the world.

  Chapter 24

  This is what it must have been like for Ben, feeling like there was no way back once the wedding preparations got underway. The last week has been hell. Lorraine has insisted on taking me wedding-dress shopping. She’s adamant that she and Dad will pay for the meringue, and her biggest desire is to get me fitted out and ready to go before they head back to the UK at the weekend.

  I’m dragging my heels, telling her the wedding is so far away that I don’t want to make a decision yet, but she persists with the endless shopping trips. She’s met me for two lunches alone this week so we can exhaust more bridal shops. It’s killing me.

  Of course, at work, Nicola thinks it’s marvellous. She’s delighted I’m getting into the ‘swing of things’, as she puts it. And when Lorraine is off the scene, I know I’m in for even more torture.

  I haven’t seen Ben since the fishing trip. I texted him a few days ago to say things were manic with my family. When I’m at work the urge to be with him is overwhelming. But somehow, when I’m at home with Richard, I manage to put him out of my mind.

  Mostly.

  Yesterday I got my photos developed. I couldn’t concentrate on the shots I’d taken over the last couple of weeks because I was so jittery about seeing the one of Ben on the boat. My heart stopped when I finally came to it in the pack. He looked so gorgeous. He had only a slight smile on his face because I hadn’t given him time to pose, but his blue eyes stood out against the grey sea behind him. It was perfect.

  In a half-wakeful state this morning, I dreamt that we were in the cabin of his boat together . . . Then Richard rolled up against me with a morning stiffie and I could not help it. I couldn’t.

  After I’d come down from a mindblowing orgasm, Richard chuckled. ‘Is it your randy time of the month or something?’ he asked.

  ‘Must be,’ I replied, getting out of bed and going to the bathroom with a red face. I sat on the toilet with my chin in my hands. I’d imagined it was Ben the entire time.
I hated myself.

  And now here I am at work, sitting alongside Mel and trying to concentrate.

  ‘She’s got that far-off look in her eyes again,’ Mel says, grinning.

  ‘More wedding-dress shopping this week?’ Nicola enquires.

  ‘Not if I can help it,’ I shudder.

  My family are going to the Snowy Mountains, which are about a five-hour drive from Sydney. They’re staying there for a couple of days so I’m not seeing them again until Thursday. Which means that for the next couple of days, I have free lunchbreaks.

  I need to see him.

  I push my stool out from under the desk, saying, ‘Anyone for tea?’

  ‘Are you making it?’ Mel asks dryly.

  ‘I do make tea occasionally, you know.’

  ‘No, thanks. I’m going to pop out for a coffee in a minute,’ Nicola tells me.

  ‘I’m alright, too,’ Mel says. ‘I’ve only just finished the last cup. What’s up with you? Not pregnant, are you?’

  ‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘Why would you say that?’

  ‘Cravings?’

  ‘Please, stop. There is no way I’m having a kid anytime soon.’

  ‘Give it two years.’ Nicola nudges Mel. ‘Honeymoon baby, that’s what I reckon.’

  I roll my eyes and walk away, my fingers clutching the phone I surreptitiously pulled out of my bag. In the kitchen I start to text Ben, then I give up and call him instead. I don’t want to wait for a text to come back. My stomach flutters with nerves as the phone rings and rings. I’m about to hang up because I don’t want to leave a message and then he answers. He sounds breathless.

  ‘What have you been doing?’ I ask, smiling.

  ‘I was wrestling with a joey.’

  ‘Joey koala or joey kangaroo?’

  ‘Kangaroo.’

  ‘What are you doing with the kangaroos?’

  ‘Just the usual check-ups. This one didn’t want to co-operate.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ I sympathise. ‘So you’re at work today?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  My heart sinks. ‘I hoped you might have the day off. I wondered if you’d like to meet me for lunch.’

  ‘That would have been great. Tomorrow?’

  ‘Okay.’ It’ll have to do.

  ‘Have you had your photos developed yet?’ he asks.