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Alison sorted out her bag and checked for lipstick and things as Nick went out to the little garden, and she could hear the restrained delight in his voice, hear him laugh, hear him talk. ‘It’s a huge surprise!’ she heard him say. ‘Thanks so much for considering me.’ She glanced over at her mum and forced a smile, then poured herself a glass of water as Nick spoke for a little while longer and then came in.
‘Work,’ Nick said, and Alison gave a tiny frown.
‘In England.’
‘Oh.’
Rose suddenly remembered she had the iron on in the laundry and Nick must have remembered that he oughtn’t to smile quite so widely, because he contained his delight just a touch. ‘They’ve asked me to cut short my trip. Not this bit,’ he added hastily, ‘just get back from Asia a month early.’ As she listened she found out that one of his seniors was leaving and there was a fast track to consultant, and she did absolutely everything right. Alison smiled and kissed him and offered congratulations, but it was the strangest feeling, because she was wishing him well for a time that didn’t involve her.
‘I haven’t said yes,’ Nick pointed out.
‘It’s still something to celebrate—so it’s my turn to get the champagne!’ Alison said, and she kissed him. She really tried, she did everything right, but Nick couldn’t help but compare it to the more genuinely happy response she’d had to David’s news, and it didn’t irk him.
He got it.
Somehow they didn’t dash back to his place for some alone time. Instead, by unvoiced mutual consent, they headed straight to Darling Harbour, walked around for half an hour and then shared a meal that should have been sumptuous, but there was just this sadness in the air and it was Nick who broached it.
‘It’s not looking hopeful for Asia.’
Alison forced a tight smile. ‘You’ve got offers all round. What’s happening with Cort?’
‘Cort?’ Nick frowned.
‘Amy said there might be a spot…’
‘That’s still up in the air.
‘It’s going to be harder than I thought.’ He took her hand, but it stayed in a ball beneath his. ‘Saying goodbye.’
‘It’s going to be exactly as hard as I thought,’ Alison said, and her eyes flashed with tears for the very first time.
‘It doesn’t have to end just because—’
‘Oh, please…’ She was almost accusing. ‘I’ll accept your friendship on Facebook.’ Then she shook her head, because she wouldn’t.
Because she could not stand the thought of following him, reading about him, and not having him. That at some point she’d have to block him, because he was taking with him her heart.
‘We can still keep things going…’ But he didn’t push it, he paid the bill and though there was conversation, both were hurting.
‘Alison,’ Nick said as he pulled up at her house, neither having even suggested they go to his place for a while. ‘I never intended…I mean…’
‘Why couldn’t you have been boring?’ Alison turned to him. ‘Why couldn’t I have found you in high heels and my underwear?’ And she started to laugh, but it was squeezed out with tears and Nick pulled her into him and held her for a moment.
‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow, we’ll talk, we’ll try and work something out.’ His mind raced for solutions, and there was but one he could think of and that required deeper thought. ‘Tomorrow,’ Nick said, ‘I’ll pick you up.’
‘I don’t want to paint.’
‘We’re not going to paint,’ Nick said. ‘We’re going to work something out. You just be ready at ten.’
‘For what?’
‘Eight letters,’ Nick smiled. ‘Starts with S, ends with E.’
‘I hate surprises.’
He cupped her face with his hand and looked over to her, as if reading her for the very first time. ‘You really do, don’t you?’
And she pulled away, stepped out of the car and headed into her house—just a touch shaken by what he’d said, a touch unsure what he’d meant.
A touch worried that he’d stepped on a truth.
CHAPTER TWELVE (#ulink_99411ae6-99d4-5997-84a0-860f16d69fde)
‘HI, MUM.’ She was tired and confused and all Alison wanted was bed, but Rose seemed determined to chat.
‘How was it?’
‘Lovely,’ Alison said.
‘You’re early.’
‘I’m just tired.’
‘You didn’t go for a walk afterwards?’ Rose asked. ‘Or back to his place for coffee?’
‘I told you…’ Alison frowned, unsure what Rose was getting at, but she found out a split second later when her mother’s hand slapped her cheek, and furious words erupted from her.
‘You tell me nothing!’ Rose snarled, and then she tossed a handful of little packages at Alison, like confetti to a bride. ‘Strawberry flavoured…’ Rose sneered. ‘Banana flavoured—you tart!’
‘Mum, please…’ Shamed, embarrassed, shocked, still she tried to calm things down, but Rose would not let her speak.
‘How could you, Alison?’
‘I’m twenty-four!’ She spelt it out, repeated it, said it again, but Rose would not relent.
‘How could you?’
She was seventeen again, only there wasn’t her dad or Tim to deflect her mother. It was ridiculous and they both knew it—and for the first time Alison told her mother so.
‘You turned a blind eye with Paul.’
‘Paul was serious about you!’ came Rose’s savage reply.
‘So’s Nick. He’s not using me.’ Alison’s voice was rising, but she wasn’t just arguing with Rose, she was arguing with herself. ‘It’s not some fling…’
‘It’s exactly what it is,’ Rose responded. ‘What? Do you think he’s going to give it all up? You heard him tonight. He’s got a promotion. It couldn’t possibly work. And you’re sleeping with him.’ It was all too close to the bone for Alison and she sat there and tried to take it, but Rose would not stop. ‘You were always trouble, always the one we worried about, always wild, and yet it was poor…’ She stopped, but not in time. The words might just as well have been said—Alison had lived, Tim had died. It stung and it burnt and tears shot from her eyes, not just at her mother’s thoughts but what she had done to her brother’s memory.
‘Tim was fun, Tim knew how to laugh. You’ve canonised him, Mum, you’ve turned him into some sort of saint. No matter what I do, I can never live up to him.’
‘Alison…’ Rose maybe realised she had gone too far. ‘This isn’t about Tim, it’s about this man.’
‘This man,’ Alison said, ‘is called Nick, and he makes me laugh and he makes me happy. And…’ she threw the condoms on the floor ‘…you have no right to go through my things. I can’t wait to move out!’ In fact, she didn’t have to wait now. ‘I’m going.’
‘With him?’
And Rose broke down then, just melted onto the chair. And Alison wanted to storm out, to go to bed, to curl up in a ball, but instead she sat with her arms around her mum, her own tears not helping her stinging cheek. Yes, it was a row that had needed to be had, but Alison knew what it was really all about.
‘I was talking about the flat. I’m not going to England, Mum.’ She stroked her mum’s shoulders. ‘He’s not going to ask, and if by some miracle he did, I wouldn’t go.’
She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
She’d had it confirmed now.
It wasn’t about Nick, it wasn’t about England. It could be Thailand, or a bungee jump, or a car, or a wave, and the row would have been the same. Even if cruel words had been spoken, she knew she was loved—it just stifled her.
‘I’m not going to England,’ Alison repeated. ‘I may be moving into a flat, but I’m not going to leave you—I never would, Mum. But—’ she was firm, really firm with her mum for the first time ‘—I do have to live.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#ulink_9a95e7ae-aa51-5932-b11d-5be9536cea8e)
IT WAS horribly awkward the next morning.
‘Yes, please’ to tea, and ‘No, thanks’ to toast.
And ‘You should eat something.’
‘I’m honestly not hungry.’ Alison wasn’t—she felt sick when she thought of the condoms, and just all churned up from their row. She had no idea what was happening today either. She had a bikini on beneath her denim skirt and halter neck and something a little more dressy laid out on her bed, in case…well, just in case Nick’s plans were upmarket.
‘Mum,’ Alison tried, ‘about last night…’
‘Let’s forget about that,’ Rose said. ‘It’s sorted now.’
Except it wasn’t, Alison knew that. She looked at her mum’s strained face, at the panic that was always in her eyes, and it was more than Alison could deal with, more than she could help with, and she broached what she had once or twice before.
‘Have you thought about talking to someone?’ Alison swallowed. ‘That grief counsellor you saw…’
‘Can they bring them back?’ Rose shook her head. ‘Anyway, I’m fine. I am sorry about last night, I had no right to go through your things.’
‘Mum,’ Alison attempted, but the conversation was closed.
‘What are you up to today?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Alison admitted. ‘Nick’s planning something.’
And to Rose’s credit she gave a bright smile. ‘That sounds exciting.’ But her smile faded as there was a low rumble in the street and as Rose went to the window she glanced anxiously at her daughter.
‘Nick’s here,’ Rose said. ‘On a bike.’
And, worse, he had two helmets.
‘Hi, Rose.’ Nick grinned. ‘I’m taking Alison to Palm Beach—where they film that soap.’
‘Nick…’ She could see her mother’s bleached face and knew she had to do something. ‘I haven’t been on a bike.’
‘I’m the one riding it,’ Nick said. ‘All you have to do is hold on. Come on, Alison, I’ve got everything planned.’
The sun was in his eyes, so maybe he couldn’t see her expression. Part of her knew she was being ridiculous, he was hardly going to go roaring off. It should have been the perfect surprise; it almost was. She wanted to grab the helmet he was offering, to climb on, to be the young woman she once had been, to spend a precious day with the man she adored.
So she tried.
‘See you, Mum.’
‘Alison, be ca—’ And Rose tried too because she smothered down her warning. ‘Have a good day.’
‘I’ll call you,’ Alison promised, before her mum asked, and there was fear and trepidation but a certain exhilaration too as she took the helmet and did as he asked and just held on.
She held onto his back and felt the machine thrum into life, her lips tightly closed, breathing through her nose, utterly rigid as they made their way through the city and over the vast bridge. She wanted so many times to tell him to stop, to let her off, and yet there was a thrill, a thrill that felt almost like pure joy as they left the city behind. The bay glistened ever more beautiful with every turn, every incline, and Alison found out what it meant to leave her worries behind.
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ He paused the bike and they sat for a moment just admiring, and Alison waited for him to take a photo, but he didn’t, he just sat and gazed out and drank it all in.
‘We used to come here for a drive on Sundays,’ Alison said. ‘When we were kids,’ she explained. ‘If we go back a couple of kilometres, there’s a nice picnic spot.’
‘I’ve got it all worked out,’ Nick said, turning the engine back on, and instead of going back they went on, further than she had been, and it felt faster too, but a faster that didn’t unsettle her. She had her cheek pressed into his back, could feel the heat from his body and the blue of the water before her eyes and the wind on her legs and her hair whipping her mouth, and she wanted the road to last for ever.
Nick really had worked it out. He took the bike off the beaten path and he really had found the perfect spot. It was cool and mossy and a thick curtain of trees allowed no glimpse of the ocean, but you could hear the rumble of it in the background as they spread out the blanket and opened up the food.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ Nick admitted, opening up some wine as she scooped out rice onto plastic plates and shared out prawns. ‘How about you?’
‘It wasn’t a great night…’ Alison admitted, but she was reluctant to tell him about her mum, to bog him down with the endless problems, but then he surprised her.
‘I couldn’t sleep without you.’
And she tried not to let her heart leap, because then it would have to fall.
‘I don’t want this to end, Alison.’ His eyes never moved, but his fingers found the knot of her bikini, his long slim fingers at the back of her neck, and she wanted to arch into them, but she just knelt there, felt the slight drop of her breasts as he unravelled the knot.
‘Bet you say that to all your gals…’ She tried to make a joke of it, but it petered out at the end. ‘Here.’ She pushed towards him a plate.
‘I’m not hungry.’
Neither, suddenly, was she.
‘Did you like the bike ride?’
‘No,’ Alison said.
‘Liar.’ Nick smiled, and it had all gone as planned, because that was supposed to be his lead in, something about bikes, he reminded himself, except his fingers had freed another knot now, and his train of thought was diverted as he peeled down her halter like the skin of a grape and saw the lovely plump flesh within, and maybe he was a little hungry after all.
