Almost Perfect (43 page)

‘Thanks for abandoning the post, you two,' said Louise, sauntering into the office.

‘How did he go?'

She plonked down in the closest chair. ‘He's a writer, so he wants to work around books. I have no problem with that. But I do have a problem with the fact that he wants to self-publish his work and stock it here.'

‘I had a problem back at the DH part,' said Adam.

‘That's not all. He also wants to arrange book signings, readings, that kind of thing.'

‘Of his own work?' Georgie asked.

Louise nodded. ‘He left a few samples for our consideration.'

‘How thoughtful.'

Amber appeared at the door. ‘An Elizabeth Sloane is here for her interview.'

‘Tell her we're not here,' Georgie blurted.

‘No, we have to go through with this,' Louise stated firmly. ‘And you two are not bailing on me this time.'

‘Oh come on, Louise,' Adam pleaded. ‘I'm not even going to have to work with whoever you hire for that long. Don't make me sit through the interviews. I'll do anything.'

Louise sighed, contemplating. ‘The storeroom was looking pretty chaotic–'

‘I'm there already,' he said, jumping to his feet.

‘That's not fair,' Georgie whined. ‘How come he gets out of it?'

‘I said it first,' said Adam, disappearing out the door.

‘You sound like a pair of children,' said Louise. ‘Georgie, you own the business, chook, you can't get out of it. Come out and meet this one, she's the last for today.'

Elizabeth was a bright-eyed young woman, probably in her early twenties. She was dressed conservatively in a typical interview outfit – black trousers, neutral shirt – but Georgie didn't miss the small and very discreet jewelled stud in her left nostril.

Louise abandoned the clipboard method of interrogation and asked instead for Elizabeth to simply tell them a little about herself.

‘Well, I'm currently doing a Communications degree part-time. I love reading and writing–'

‘Have you written a book you want to sell in our shop?' Louise asked urgently.

Elizabeth looked a little taken aback. ‘I'm a long way off writing a book, but thank you for the offer,' she said, clearly bemused. ‘Actually, I enjoy analysis more. I have this secret dream,' she hesitated, ‘Oh, I never tell anyone this, you're going to think I'm crazy.'

‘No, please go ahead.'

‘Well, I think it would be so cool to be a book reviewer. I mean, I love books, I'm always reading, I usually have four going at once.'

‘What kind of books do you like?' Georgie asked.

‘Oh, all kinds, though I prefer ones with punctuation.'

‘Pardon?'

‘I'm sorry, it's my pet hate,' she explained. ‘But what is this trend away from punctuation? It's like half the writers around at the moment missed punctuation class because they were taking extra adjective classes. And while I'm at it, is it so hard to occasionally include “he said”, “she said”? Honestly, reading some books is like trying to solve a puzzle, and I'm not just talking about mysteries. It's as though some writers are hell-bent on being purposely obscure. What's wrong with meeting the reader halfway? I believe there's a special relationship between writer and reader–'

‘You're hired,' Georgie blurted.

‘Georgie?' said Louise uncertainly.

‘What? She's perfect. You're perfect, Elizabeth. Can I call you Liz?'

Louise looked at Elizabeth, smiling politely. ‘Would you mind excusing us for one moment?'

Once she had closed the door to the office, Louise put her hands on her hips. ‘What are you doing?'

‘Hiring her. She's great.'

‘But that's not how you do it. Aside from the fact that we've got three more interviews tomorrow, you don't just say, “You're hired” right in front of the person. You should have checked with me first.'

‘But she's replacing me.'

‘But I'm the one who has to work with her,' Louise pointed out.

‘But she's a lot like me.'

‘I noticed.'

Georgie blinked. ‘You don't want to work with someone like me?'

Louise's face relaxed into a smile. ‘Of course I do. She is perfect. Problem is we may not let you back.'

The phone rang as Anna was heading for the door. She hesitated for a moment, debating about whether to let the answering machine pick it up, when in fact
the answering machine couldn't wait any longer for her to make up her mind and kicked in anyway. After a pause she heard her mother's slightly harried voice. ‘Anna, are you there, dear? Oh, I don't understand this, you're never–'

‘Mum, I'm here, just a minute,' she said, after racing back to grab the phone. She pressed the button to halt the message. ‘Hi, can you hear me?'

‘Anna, finally, I'm speaking to you and not your machine.'

‘Hello Mum,' said Anna, sliding down onto the sofa. This was likely to take a while. ‘How are you?'

‘Darling, I've been trying to get on to you for weeks, where have you been?'

‘Oh, out.' In truth Anna was almost living at Vincent's these days. Whenever she spent any time at the townhouse she felt cold and lonely, and she couldn't wait to get back to Avalon. Vincent didn't seem to mind. In fact, he'd suggested she move in properly. But Anna wasn't ready for that.

‘It's so hard to get a hold of you these days, Anna,' Caroline was saying. ‘You never seem to be home. Are you back at work?'

‘Not yet. I told Doug I'd be off for the rest of the year.' She had added a month, then another month to her leave, and she was about to add another month when her conscience pricked and she realised she was being unfair. Doug had been so understanding and she didn't want to take advantage of that. And it was unfair to her clients. She knew staying off for the rest of the year was effectively relinquishing her
current client list, what was left of it. But she was becoming more convinced by the day that she was unlikely to return to clinical practice anyway.

‘But what will you live on, dear?'

‘I'm fine, Mum, the money from the sale of the house has come through.'

‘You don't want to be frittering that away–'

‘I'm not frittering it away, I'm taking some time off, probably for the first time in my life, while I decide what I want to do with the rest of it.'

There was a pause. Anna knew her mother was torn between wanting her daughter to be happy and wanting her to be responsible, and wondering why they both couldn't be achieved to everyone's satisfaction.

‘So what exactly are you doing with your time?' Caroline asked tentatively.

Anna thought about it. A little writing, and reading, lots of reading, on the recliner out on Vincent's deck, or curled up with him on the lounge at night. And cooking. She'd taught Vincent to cook a mean risotto, and he'd attempted to teach her to surf, with less spectacular results. And then there was the sex. Anna was indulging herself in the pure, exhilarating physicality of having sex simply for the sake of it. She realised she had stopped feeling like a sexual being. She had become instead an egg producer and incubator, albeit a temporary one, and ultimately a pretty useless one. She had lost all confidence in her body and what it could do. But Vincent was gradually turning her around.

‘Did you hear me, Anna? Are you still there?'

‘Sorry Mum, I thought I heard someone at the door. You were saying?'

‘I was wondering what you're doing with yourself. I thought with all this free time you might have considered spending a little of it with us.'

‘Of course, Mum. I have been meaning to come down.' She hesitated. She hadn't mentioned Vincent to her parents yet. It was probably about time. ‘The thing is, I've been seeing someone.'

‘Oh.'

It wasn't an exclamation of excitement, or pleasure, or even surprise. It sounded like disappointment.

‘What's the matter, Mum? I thought you'd be happy for me.'

‘It's a little unexpected, that's all, dear.'

‘What, you didn't expect I'd date again?'

There was a pause before she answered. ‘I suppose your father and I thought, or we hoped, the separation was only temporary.'

‘What?' Anna said in disbelief. ‘Even after we sold the house?'

‘Well, we just assumed you'd both come back to Melbourne.'

Anna sighed. There was something else she hadn't told her parents. Mostly because she didn't like talking about it. ‘Mother, Mac is having a child with the other woman.'

‘Oh my goodness.'

That was one way of putting it.

‘How are you, dear?' Caroline asked, recovering. ‘I mean, how do you feel about it?'

‘I try not to think about it if I can help it,
Mum,' Anna told her. ‘I just want to get on with my life.'

‘Of course,' she said. ‘Anything we can do . . .'

‘I'm fine.'

Caroline took another moment. ‘So this man you're seeing, what's his name?'

‘You know him actually, Mum.'

‘I do?'

‘Do you remember the Carruthers, they used to live around the corner?'

‘You're testing my memory a little, darling.'

‘I was good friends with Bronwyn through high school until they moved away.'

‘Oh, yes, I remember Bronwyn.'

‘Well, the man I'm seeing is her brother.'

‘I don't remember a brother, she only had an older sister.'

‘Vincent's younger, Mum.'

‘Pardon?'

‘Vincent is younger than Bronwyn . . . and me.'

‘Are you talking about the little fellow?'

‘Yes, well, once upon a time Vincent was a little fellow, Mum,' Anna returned drily. ‘But he's all grown up now.'

‘How old is he? Oh, what am I saying?' Caroline sighed. ‘I'm sounding like an old biddy. Of course you can go out with a man who's younger than you, what's wrong with that?'

Not a damned thing. ‘Look Mum, it's not serious. I don't want to jump into another relationship so soon. We're just enjoying each other's company.'

‘Well, that's nice, dear.'

‘So I'll be down for Dad's birthday, you can count on it.'

‘But that's not until October.'

‘Oh, um . . .'

‘Listen to me,' Caroline berated herself. ‘I sound pitiful. We'll see you then and we'll both look forward to it.'

‘Okay, Mum, and I'll talk to you soon, I promise. Love to Dad.'

‘Hi Georgie, it's Liam.'

‘Hi,' Georgie said, surprised. She couldn't pretend she didn't like hearing his voice, especially on a quiet Sunday afternoon when she was sick of herself. So sick in fact she had been considering taking herself over to Nick and Louise's, even though she had spent the entire day there yesterday and most of last weekend as well. She was likely to wear out her welcome at this rate. Georgie had decided this morning that she had to get used to being alone. She had to make herself a schedule and stick to it. Breakfast, chores, a walk . . . lunch . . . then maybe a nap . . . She'd bored herself stupid just thinking about it.

‘What are you up to?' Liam asked.

‘Oh, nothing much.'

‘Me either.' He paused. ‘Maybe we could do
nothing much somewhere in the same vicinity as each other?'

Georgie's heart skipped a beat. This was a first. He phoned often, and he'd dropped into the shop a few times, but Liam hadn't dared ask her out or visit her at home. She knew there was nothing wrong with spending time together. They would obviously be seeing a lot more of each other after the birth, and they were going to have to get along for the sake of the baby. She just wished she felt more in control around him. Her emotions seemed to dip and soar like a drunken eagle. It was because of the pregnancy, her hormones were out of whack. That's all it was.

‘Georgie?' Liam prompted. ‘What do you say?'

‘Well,' she took a breath, ‘I have been thinking all day that I should go for a walk, but I haven't been able to get motivated.'

‘Would having some company motivate you?'

‘Probably. We could meet out front of my place, in say, twenty minutes? We can walk down to the beach from here.'

‘See you then.'

Georgie was sitting on the squat brick fence next to the letterboxes when Liam pulled into the street and parked across the road. She wandered over as he climbed out of the car.

‘Where's the Sable?' she asked.

He smiled, shaking his head. ‘I terminated the lease when I left Morgan Trask, thought it was the right time to . . . what was that expression you used? Pull my head in?'

But Georgie wasn't listening. She was staring into the back window. ‘What's that?'

‘A baby capsule,' he replied, watching her. ‘It's top of the line, fully approved, meets all the safety standards. And I had it fitted professionally, at a licensed place.'

Georgie was still staring at it, Liam couldn't work out her expression. He felt as though he was walking on eggshells whenever he was around her. He didn't mind, he'd walk on broken glass if it would make her happy. But that was the problem; he never knew what was going to make her happy and what was going to bother her.

‘I thought, because you don't drive . . .'

She nodded vaguely. ‘Nick and Louise said they'd put the girls' one back in their car.'

‘Okay. I don't think there's any harm having two, but if it bothers you, Georgie–'

‘No,' she stirred, looking up at him. ‘No, really, it's a good idea, Liam.'

‘Then what is it?'

She sighed. ‘It's just sitting there, empty. Don't you think it might be bad luck?'

‘How do you mean?'

Georgie shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, like counting your chickens . . . I'm probably just being superstitious.'

‘I'll put it in the boot,' said Liam.

She winced. ‘See, now I'm having nightmares about the baby being locked in the boot of a car.'

‘I'll leave it at my place when I get home,' he assured her. ‘You won't see it again until after the baby's born.'

‘Thank you,' she smiled up at him. And that was enough for him.

They walked the block down to the beach, Liam taking her arm as they descended the stairs. It was cool on the beach, but the sky was clear and blue, and Georgie decided it was a far sight better than being cooped up in her flat.

‘We should do this more often,' Liam suggested carefully.

Georgie looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

‘I'm just saying,' he went on, ‘we're going to be spending more time together once the baby comes, so we may as well get used to it.'

She nodded slowly. ‘I was thinking the same thing.'

‘You were?'

‘Uhuh.'

That was encouraging, he hadn't expected that. This was his opportunity.

‘So, for example,' he began, ‘do you have any plans next weekend?'

Georgie shrugged. ‘I don't think so.'

He cleared his throat. ‘Because I was thinking of visiting my family.'

‘So they're for real, your family?'

Liam met her eyes directly. ‘Everything I told you about my family is true.'

‘Does your mother have the same birthday as me?'

‘Except for that,' he sighed.

‘Hard to keep track of the lies, isn't it?' Georgie elbowed him. But then she noticed his pained expression. ‘I'm only pulling your chain,' she cajoled.

He managed a weak smile as they took the next set of stairs down to the sand.

‘So, I was thinking,' he persisted, ‘maybe you'd like to come?'

‘Pardon?'

‘To meet my family,' he explained. ‘My mother in particular.'

‘You're suggesting I come with you next weekend?'

He nodded.

‘Don't they live in Melbourne?'

‘That's right.'

‘You want me to come all the way to Melbourne to meet your family?'

‘Well, yes . . .'

Georgie stopped walking. ‘Why?'

‘Well . . .' Liam took a breath. He had rehearsed this. ‘I know how important family is to you, Georgie. And whatever issues you have with me, you can't hold them against my family.' He paused, watching her. He could see her mind ticking over. ‘The baby's only going to have one grandmother, you have to meet some time,' he went on. ‘And my mother's dying to meet you.'

‘She is?'

‘Of course.'

‘Why?'

‘Why do you think?'

Georgie looked at him, curious.

‘Well, I've told her all about you.'

She put her hands on her hips. ‘So now you're resorting to flattery?'

‘I thought it was worth a shot,' he said lamely.

Georgie sighed. Part of her was intrigued. But a larger part of her was wary, very wary. It all sounded so reasonable, but she didn't trust Liam yet. ‘I don't know, it's a long way to go for a weekend.'

‘Not by plane.'

‘I'm not sure they even let you fly after seven months.'

‘That's only international flights,' he blurted. ‘I checked.'

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh did you?'

He nodded. ‘And there's a really good hotel I always stay in when I'm in Melbourne.'

‘We'd stay in a hotel?'

‘Well, yes.'

‘I'm not going to stay in a hotel with you.'

‘I was going to book separate rooms.'

‘I'm not going to stay in a hotel with you, Liam,' Georgie said flatly.

The family thing was beginning to sound like a ruse. He just wanted an excuse to spend a weekend with her. And if he was using his family to . . . well, that was despicable. There was only one way to deal with it.

‘Why can't we stay at your mother's?' she asked.

Liam frowned. ‘You don't want to do that.'

‘I don't?'

‘No, you don't.'

‘Why not?'

‘Well, because . . .' he faltered. ‘Why would you want to do that?'

‘Liam, this is about meeting your family, getting
to know them. It's not like she wouldn't have enough room. She brought up nine kids in the place. Are any of them still living at home?'

‘I'm not sure, the younger ones come and go a bit.'

‘There'd still be room regardless, so what's the problem?'

‘You don't understand, the house is rundown–'

‘Oh Liam, surely you don't think that would bother me?' she chided. ‘Would your mother have a problem with us staying there?'

He hesitated, rubbing his forehead.

‘The truth, Liam.'

‘No,' he relented. ‘She'd love it.'

‘Then it's settled. I don't want your mother imagining that I think I'm too good to stay in her home.'

He looked at her. ‘She wouldn't think that,' he said quietly. He took a breath. ‘Okay, if that's what you want, I'll give Mum a call, I'll set it up.'

Georgie nodded, satisfied. Oh cripes, what had she got herself into?