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‘I’ll buy something tomorrow. I was going Christmas shopping, anyway.’
‘Christmas shopping! But it’s only October.’
‘I don’t like to leave present-shopping till the last minute,’ came her prim reply. ‘The pre-summer sales are on at Tuggerah tomorrow.’
‘Where the hell is Tuggerah?’
‘You don’t know the coast too well, do you?’
‘I know the Erina shopping centre. Why don’t you go there? I could meet you and we could have coffee. Or lunch?’
‘I don’t think so, Jack. Don’t forget, I’m only going with you tomorrow night as a favour. It is not a real date. It’s a one-off. There won’t be any encores. Or prequels. Take it or leave it, Jack.’
‘I’ll take it,’ he said, and smiled to himself.
You can pretend to yourself all you like, sweetheart. But tomorrow night is not going to be any one-off. You like me. I can tell. Tomorrow night is just the beginning.
‘I’ll pick you up at six,’ he added. ‘That will give us plenty of time to get down to Sydney. Now, where do you live? Give me your address and some directions so that I don’t get lost. And your mobile number, in case I need to contact you tomorrow and you’re not home.’
‘Why would you need to contact me?’
‘The world’s an unpredictable place, Lisa. I like to be prepared.’
‘That’s what Hal always says.’
‘Does he? Well, I suppose I do have some things in common with my main man.’
Like his womanising ways, Lisa thought, suddenly concerned over her decision to go out with Jack.
What on earth had she been thinking when she let him change her mind?
She’d rung him up to put him in his place and ended up agreeing to be his pretend girlfriend for the night, letting him persuade her with the promise of adult company, great food and the fantasy of actually having some fun.
But what fun would it be if she was on tenterhooks all night, worried about fighting him off at the front door?
‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’
Lisa rolled her eyes. What was he, a mind-reader?
‘Not at all,’ she replied crisply. If he did try something when he brought her home, she’d be ready for him. He wouldn’t get so much as a toe in her front door.
‘How about your address and phone number, then? I have pen and paper at the ready.’
She gave him both, plus good directions. It was perfectly clear, however, that he hadn’t been far afield from Terrigal, since he’d never heard of Tumbi Umbi Road.
‘There’s a Central Coast map in the local phone directory,’ she said. ‘Study it up.’
‘I’ll do that. And thanks, Lisa. I really appreciate your coming with me. You’re a good sport.’
A good sport. Was that what playboys called foolish females these days?
‘Bye for now,’ he said breezily. ‘See you tomorrow night.’
Tomorrow night…
Just the thought made her feel sick.
Oh, Lisa, Lisa, what have you done?
Chapter Six
LISA’S chest tightened as it always did when she pulled into the driveway of her mother’s place. Not so much these days because the ramshackle farmhouse would be a mess. But because her mother always seemed to say something to get her hackles up.
Lisa could hear implied criticism in even the most innocent of her mother’s comments. As soon as she pulled up on the weed-filled patch of lawn which masqueraded as a front garden, Cory was out of the car like a shot, running up onto the veranda and giving his emerging grandma a big hug before dashing off to play on the tyre which swung from a nearby tree.
‘Thanks for looking after Cory for me, Mum,’ Lisa called out through the driver’s window, trying not to really look at her mother. But it was impossible. Her hair was as red as the red in the multicoloured kaftan she was wearing. ‘Not sure what time I’ll be back. Probably not till after lunch.’
Lisa had decided on the way here not to tell her mother about going out tonight till she returned from shopping. She’d say she’d run into this mythical girl-friend at Tuggerah and been asked out when another girlfriend couldn’t go with her.
‘What’s the hurry?’ Jill Chapman called back as she walked down the rickety front steps. ‘Can’t you come in for a cup of coffee?’
‘I’ll do that when I come back. I don’t want to be late. You know what the parking’s like when the sales are on.’
‘You look very nice today,’ her mother said, drawing closer to the driver’s window. ‘There again, you always look nice. I wouldn’t have thought you needed any new clothes.’
Lisa struggled to find a smile. ‘Actually, I’m looking for Christmas presents today. But I think it’s always good to buy a few new things at the start of each season,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Otherwise, your wardrobe ends up getting very dated.’
‘Like mine, you mean,’ her mother said with a hearty laugh.
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You didn’t have to. I know I look like an escapee from the sixties most of the time. But that’s what I am.’
Who would have guessed? Lisa thought wearily.
‘I have to go, Mum,’ she said. ‘Keep an eye on Cory, would you? Don’t let him wander off.’ Her mother lived on a small acreage in the Yarramalong Valley, where there was a lot of bush. And snakes.
‘He’ll be fine.’
Lisa sighed under her breath as she waved goodbye and drove off. That was what her mother always said. And what she thought. Everything and everyone was always fine. Except her daughter, of course. Her daughter was a fussy, frigid fool who had no idea how to relax, or really enjoy herself.
Maybe she was right, Lisa conceded unexpectedly for the first time in her life. Here she was, going out to a slap-up dinner in Sydney tonight with her favourite author and was she happy? No! She was already worrying herself sick over how to act and what might or might not happen when Jack brought her home.
At least her mother was always happy. She’d been happy even after her husband left her.
I should be happy, Lisa lectured herself as she drove towards Tuggerah. I have a lovely home. A wonderful son. A flourishing business. And a good, if irritating, mother.
I also shouldn’t be worrying about tonight. I am an adult woman, in control over what happens to me and what does not. If Jack makes a pass, I can handle it. There’s no reason why I can’t relax and enjoy myself.
The trouble was she always had difficulty relaxing. She seemed condemned to feel slightly uptight about everything, as if nothing was ever quite right, or good enough, or clean enough.
Lisa pulled a face. She was sick of this. Sick of herself.
Thank goodness it wasn’t far from her mother’s house to the shopping centre, the sight of Tuggerah ahead soothing her anxiety somewhat. Clothes shopping was one thing she did truly enjoy. She had a good sense of fashion and knew what suited her. When she’d attended the company Christmas parties with Greg he’d always been very proud of her.
Hopefully, Jack would feel just as proud when he came to pick her up tonight.
‘You don’t mind, Mum?’ Lisa said, glancing up from where she was sitting at her mother’s messy kitchen table, sipping coffee. The clock on the wall showed ten to one. Finding that special dress had taken Lisa longer than she’d anticipated.
‘Mind? Why should I mind? I love having Cory over.’
‘Where is he, by the way?’
‘Down at the creek, looking for tadpoles.’
‘He’s OK by himself down there?’
‘He can swim, can’t he? Of course he’s all right. You fuss over him too much, Lisa. Boys needs some space. And some freedom.’
‘Maybe. But it’s a dangerous world out there, Mum.’
‘The world is whatever you believe it to be. I believe it to be good. And I believe people to be good. Until it’s proven otherwise.’
Lisa sighed. Her mother was naïve, in her opinion. And out of touch. At the same time, she could see that Cory grew whenever he spent time with her. Not physically. But in maturity and experience. Her mother did allow him to do things she never would.
‘It’s good that you’re going out,’ her mother went on. ‘Even if it is just with a girlfriend. So you’re off to Sydney, are you? To a posh dinner in a posh restaurant. That’s great. But watch yourself.’
Lisa blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Sydney on a Saturday night can be a wild place. Don’t go walking around the streets by yourself.’
‘We’re going to a restaurant, Mum. It’s a literary-awards dinner with speeches and things. We won’t be walking around the streets.’
‘What are you going to wear?’
Lisa had decided not to show her mother the dress she’d bought. She wasn’t in the mood for being criticised.
‘I have plenty of party dresses in my wardrobe.’
‘You know, you might see our favourite author there.’
‘And who would that be?’ Lisa said, trying to keep a straight face.
‘Nick Freeman, of course. His books always win awards. It says so on the inside flaps. You’ll have to tell me what he looks like. There’s never a picture on the back cover. And not much of a biography. I think he writes under an assumed name.’
‘He might be a woman,’ came Lisa’s oddly mischievous comment.
‘Oh, no,’ her mother said with a rather knowing smile. ‘The creator of Hal is no woman. My guess is he’s ex-military. He knows much too much about weapons not to have personal experience.’
‘Maybe he just does a lot of research,’ Lisa said, whilst thinking to herself that her mother was probably right.
‘No. It’s all too real. I sure hope he’s going to write some more Hal Hunter books. I’m addicted to them already. Yet strangely enough, I think I like the first one the best. The Scales of Justice. That’s where you really get to know Hal. You understand why he is the way he is after the way his parents get killed.’
Lisa frowned, only then making the connection between Jack’s parents being tragically killed and the way Hal’s parents were killed. Not in a car accident. In a terrorist bombing.
Was that why Jack had become a loner, like Hal? Why he didn’t want to marry and have a family of his own?
The answers to those questions possibly lay in that first book.
‘You know, Mum, I think I’d like to read that one again. You haven’t lent it to any of your friends, have you?’
‘Nope. It’s in my bedroom, under the bed. I’ll go get it for you.’
Her mother had just left when the back screen door was yanked open and Cory charged into the kitchen, holding an old coffee jar full of muddy water.
The nicely washed and ironed clothes which she’d put on him that morning were also muddy. So was his face. It always pained Lisa to see her good-looking boy looking like a ruffian. But she held her tongue for once.
‘Hi there, Mum! Where’s Grandma?’
‘Right here, sweetie,’ Lisa’s mother replied as she bustled back into the kitchen, handing Lisa the book before going straight over to Cory. ‘Show me what you’ve got. Heavens! You’ve done well. We’ll put them in the pond later. Hopefully, some of them might turn into frogs. By the way, you’re staying the night,’ she continued before Lisa could tell Cory herself. ‘Your mum’s going out to some fancy dinner in Sydney tonight.’
‘Wow! Cool.’
Lisa wasn’t sure if he meant it was cool she was going to Sydney, or cool that he was staying the night.
‘Don’t let him stay up too late,’ she said.
Grandmother and grandson exchanged a conspiratorial glance. They were as thick as thieves, those two.
‘It’s Saturday night,’ her mother said. ‘Cory doesn’t have to go to school tomorrow. He can sleep in in the morning. You’re not going to be here to pick him up till lunch-time, I’ll bet. It’ll be you having the late night.’
Lisa didn’t plan on being that late. But she didn’t want to argue the point, for fear of making a slip-up with her story.
‘Oh, all right,’ she agreed. ‘But not too late,’ Lisa added as she picked up Jack’s book and got to her feet. ‘Don’t go taking advantage of your grandmother, young man. And don’t eat too much ice cream. You know what it does to your stomach.’ Cory was lactose intolerant.
Cory’s blue eyes went blank, exactly like his father’s had when she used to nag him over something.
‘Go give your mother a hug,’ his grandmother said, giving Cory a nudge in the ribs.
‘Be a good boy,’ Lisa whispered as she held him to her for a little longer than she usually did.
His weary-sounding sigh made her feel guilty.
‘Love you,’ she added.
‘Love you too, Mum,’ Cory returned. But there wasn’t a great deal of warmth in his words.
Suddenly, Lisa wanted to cry. And to keep holding him. Close.
