Almost Perfect (42 page)

Anna stared into her glass. ‘Ex-husband,' she murmured.

‘It is autobiographical, isn't it? Your story, I mean,' he said carefully.

She shrugged. ‘More or less.'

‘You couldn't have children, so your husband had an affair and the other woman ended up pregnant.'

‘In a nutshell.'

‘How do you get through something like that?'

His gaze was so intense, it was unnerving.

‘I've had dozens of clients who have been through worse,' she dismissed. ‘Haven't you ever had a broken heart, Vincent?'

He smiled. ‘Of course I have. There was this beautiful girl I knew a long time ago. I was madly in love with her, but I was too young, and my parents took me away–'

‘Cut it out,' Anna chided. ‘Seriously, answer my question.'

‘Sure I've been hurt.'

‘What was her name?'

‘There's a list actually.'

‘Oh, poor Vincent,' she cooed, patting his arm. ‘Okay, well, if I was the first, who was the last?'

Vincent took a slow sip from his glass and placed it back on the table. ‘Her name was Joanne. We were going to get married.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry,' said Anna. ‘Why did she leave?'

‘She didn't leave,' he said. ‘I left her.'

‘So how did your heart get broken?'

‘You don't have to be the one who's left behind to have your heart broken.'

Anna considered him. ‘What happened?'

He shrugged. ‘I couldn't make her happy any more. I would have had to become someone else to do that.'

‘Meaning?'

‘Well, we started off wanting the same things. We talked about being free, doing what made us happy, instead of what was expected. She wanted me to keep writing, no matter what, she said. She hadn't decided what she wanted to do with herself, but she was happy working in casual jobs, trying things out. She loved life, new experiences, she had a real hunger for living. I found her inspiring.' He paused. ‘But things started to change, only little by little, so I didn't notice for a while. Until one day she said I needed to get a regular job, I wasn't making enough money if we were going to buy a house. That was the first I knew about buying any house,' he muttered.

‘So you left?'

‘Someone had to.'

Anna stared across the room, to the windows, the trees, the ocean beyond, barely visible in the failing light. She stirred when Vincent went to refill her glass.

‘No,' she said, getting up. ‘I should go, really.' She started stacking the plates.

Vincent got to his feet. ‘What's the hurry?'

‘I've taken up enough of your time.'

‘Don't you think that's for me to decide?' he said, taking hold of both her hands.

She was feeling flushed, and not just from the wine. It was the way Vincent was looking at her.

‘You know, I can't let you drive,' he was saying. ‘Not when you've been drinking.'

‘Well, you've been drinking as well,' she returned. ‘I can't let you drive either.'

‘So,' he smiled at her, ‘looks like you might have to stay.'

‘But I couldn't ask you to sleep on the lounge again.'

He looked directly into her eyes. ‘Then don't.'

Anna's heart was beating erratically. She didn't know if she was ready for this.

‘You're right, I'd better call a taxi,' she said, slipping her hands out of his and dashing over to the kitchen. She went to take the receiver off its cradle on the wall as Vincent's hand covered hers, replacing it.

‘Anna,' he said from behind, his voice reverberating down her spine. He kept hold of her hand and twirled her around to face him again. ‘If you really want to, then go ahead, call a taxi. But don't do it because you think you've taken up too much of my time. I can't think of any other way I'd rather be spending my time.'

He was standing very close to her, his forearm resting on the wall by her head.

‘I . . .' she swallowed, ‘um, you see . . . Vincent, this is completely new territory for me,' she said in a small voice.

‘So, you haven't . . . since you separated?'

She shook her head. ‘And even before . . . we had sex in a test tube most of the time.'

‘Must have been cramped.'

Anna smiled.

‘You know, Anna,' he said gently, ‘I don't want you to feel any pressure. I don't expect anything, just having you here is enough. It's like a fantasy.'

‘Vincent–'

‘I'm serious. You know you really were my first love.'

‘You were only eleven.'

‘But you stayed with me. Probably because we moved away, you took on mythic proportions. Yours was the face in my head, Anna, through all my adolescent angst.'

‘That's an awful lot to live up to, Vincent,' Anna sighed. ‘Fantasy is powerful but elusive. As soon as you realise it, it's not a fantasy any more. It can't be. It's in our nature to yearn for things that are out of our reach, and then once we hold them in our hand, we find they're not so precious after all.'

‘You psychologists are too analytical for your own good.' He stroked his fingers around the edge of her face. ‘What if you've been yearning for a very, very long time. Surely that would prolong the fantasy?'

‘Perhaps,' she said, breathing hard. ‘Or it could work inversely. The stronger the desire . . . the more disappointing the consummation. '

Vincent smoothed his thumb across her bottom lip. Anna was trembling. ‘So,' he said in a low voice, ‘if I could stop time at this point, where I don't think it would be possible to want you more than I do right now, this would be the peak of the fantasy, it's all downhill from here?'

‘I don't know . . .' she swallowed.

‘Neither do I. Feels a bit empty. Maybe we could try just one thing, if you don't mind, that I've wanted to do . . . oh, for about twenty years.'

Anna closed her eyes as his lips met hers, gently
lingering against them. She wanted to go with it, to let go enough. She wondered if she was capable.

‘You've waited twenty years for that?' she breathed after he pulled away.

Vincent considered her curiously, but he was smiling. ‘Well, that was just a prelude,' he said, drawing her away from the wall and into his arms as he slowly but very deliberately brought his mouth down onto hers. Anna was unprepared for the voracity of his kiss. She'd thrown down the gauntlet and he had risen to the challenge. With gusto. When he finally drew back from her, she felt breathless, sapped even. Vincent was gazing down at her.

‘Are you still thinking about going home?' he asked.

‘Are you still thinking about sleeping on the lounge?'

‘I was never thinking about sleeping on the lounge.'

‘We have a contender,' said Adam, appearing at the door of the office.

They had advertised a full-time position a month or so back, and after sorting through some pretty weird and wonderful resumes, Louise and Georgie had finally made up a shortlist. Interviews were scheduled over the next two days.

‘And she's hot,' he added. ‘I vote we cut to the chase and hire her.'

‘We haven't even interviewed her yet.'

‘So?'

‘Adam, we are not hiring anyone based on their looks,' Louise said flatly. ‘It's shallow and discriminatory and, well, it's beneath our dignity, isn't it, Georgie?'

‘Absolutely,' she agreed.

‘You're a couple of killjoys, you two,' Adam grumbled.

‘I think the word you're looking for is “professional”,' said Louise.

‘I still don't see why we have to hire anyone at all,' Georgie sighed, getting to her feet.

Louise groaned, coming around the desk. ‘We've been through all this already,' she said, handing them a clipboard each.

‘We have enough casuals to fill the gap while I'm off having the baby,' Georgie insisted.

‘We could get by for a while,' Louise agreed. ‘But you don't know when you're going to be ready to come back to work, and yes, of course you can bring the baby in here every day if you want, but I guarantee you're not going to want to. And even if you did, we'd still need another full-time staff member because you won't be able to stay from open to closing.'

‘You're trying to get rid of me,' Georgie pouted. ‘As soon as you hire someone you're going to lock me out and then what am I going to do while I'm waiting for the baby to arrive? I'll perish from boredom.'

‘You're almost seven months pregnant,' said
Louise. ‘We still have to get through the interviews, and once we find someone we have to give them a couple of weeks notice to start, at least. And then it'll take another month before they're up to full speed, and I doubt you'll last that long.'

‘I'm fine, really.'

‘Frankly, Tub, you're next to useless,' said Adam. ‘You can't lift anything, you can't climb a ladder, the smell of coffee makes you sick, and you're just generally getting in the way, especially in the narrow aisles. Imagine what you're going to be like in another month.' He rolled his eyes.

‘Thanks, Ad.'

‘I thought you'd appreciate honesty.'

‘Whatever gave you that idea?' she frowned. ‘Look, I know I'm not exactly nimble any more, but why can't I help with the office work?'

‘We've often asked ourselves the same question.'

‘You all think I'm useless, don't you? I'm not good for anything, I'm redundant, and you can't wait to replace me.'

‘She's fishing,' Adam said to Louise.

‘This is when we're supposed to tell her that she can never be replaced, how much she'll be missed, that we don't know how we're going to get on without her . . .'

‘I hate you both.'

‘But we love you, Tub,' Adam insisted.

All three of them sat in a row on the longest couch, with the first interviewee on an armchair across the
coffee table opposite them. They had discussed the seating arrangements earlier. Georgie had worried they'd come across as intimidating, but Louise maintained they had to determine how the candidates responded to pressure.

‘This is not exactly the White House, Louise,' Georgie had pointed out. But Louise was adamant. She had also compiled a set of questions they were to follow to the letter, so they would have a basis for comparison. Hence, the clipboards. Adam and Georgie had agreed to let Louise run the show, but she said they should jump in when they felt inclined, as long as they followed the set questions. They doubted they would be overcome with that particular inclination.

‘So Melody,' Louise began after they had all introduced themselves, ‘the very first question I want to ask you is about books. This is a bookshop, after all, so we'd like you to tell us how you feel about books.'

‘Oh, I love books,' Melody chirped. ‘They're very . . . attractive . . .'

Georgie and Adam exchanged a furtive glance.

‘. . . the covers and that. Some of them are amazing, they'd look, like, so good in your house, on bookshelves and that.'

‘Okay,' Louise continued undaunted. ‘That's an interesting point, Melody, but I guess what I'm really asking is, do you like to read? And what kinds of books do you like to read?'

‘Oh, I never read books,' Melody replied.

‘You don't?'

‘No, it only spoils the movie.'

Adam cleared his throat. ‘They don't make a movie from every book, you realise?'

‘Really?' Melody was clearly amazed.

Louise ploughed ahead with her prepared questions, while Georgie jotted a note on her clipboard, inclining it slightly for Adam to read.

Dumb as a house brick.

He read her note before scribbling his own.

Legs all the way to her
– but Georgie elbowed him before he could finish that thought.

‘Well this is obviously a big waste of time,' Georgie declared after Melody had tottered off.

‘We're not giving up after one interview,' Louise said flatly. ‘We need another full-time staff member no matter what. Adam will be off overseas next year, don't forget.'

‘As if,' Georgie scoffed. ‘He's been saying that for five years.'

‘Yeah?' Adam retorted. ‘Well when I fly out of the country next year, you'll be laughing out of the other side of your face.'

‘I don't even know what that means,' said Georgie. ‘How can I laugh out of the other side of my face?'

‘You'll have to start boning up on your incomprehensible threats if you expect to be taken seriously as a parent, Tub,' said Adam.

‘I'm not going to speak like that to my child.'

‘Sure you will,' Louise muttered.

‘I won't have to, because I intend to treat my child with intelligence and respect.'

‘She's so naive,' said Adam to Louise.

‘Give her time.'

‘Excuse me, everyone?'

They looked up and Amber was standing at the edge of the sitting room, shadowed by a very earnest-looking young man.

‘This gentleman's here for an interview.' ‘Thank you, Amber,' said Louise, scanning her clipboard. ‘And you must be–'

‘DH Lawrence,' he said.

That got their attention.

‘Is that a joke?' Georgie asked hopefully.

‘Not at all.'

‘It says on your application your name is Dennis Hogben,' said Louise.

‘Yes, well, using my own initials as a starting point, I took on the nom de plume, DH Lawrence.'

‘I'm sorry, I'm not following you,' Georgie frowned.

‘It's my pen name.'

‘I think you'll find that one's already been taken,' said Adam.

‘Yes, and didn't it work out well for him?'

‘Is that the phone ringing?' Adam blurted.

‘I'll get it,' said Georgie, but Adam was already on his way.

Louise sighed. ‘Please, take a seat, Mr . . .'

‘Just call me DH.'

‘It's for you, Georgie,' Adam called from the door of the office.

Thank God for that. ‘Excuse me, won't you?'

Adam handed her the phone after she'd made her way over. ‘It's Liam,' he said.

‘Hello?'

‘Hi Georgie, how are you?'

‘Actually,' she said, walking inside the office and perching herself on the edge of the desk, ‘I'm feeling a little redundant at the moment, as a matter of fact.'

‘Why is that?'

‘We're in the process of finding a replacement for me.'

‘No one could replace you.'

‘Liam said no one could replace me,' Georgie repeated for Adam's benefit. He mimed throwing up. ‘You can leave now,' she said to him.

‘Please don't make me go back out there,' Adam said dramatically.

Georgie stared him down, pointing to the door. He walked out despondently.

‘Sorry Liam, what were you calling about?'

‘Only to see if the parcel arrived.'

‘Oh, I don't know,' said Georgie vaguely. ‘Let me check.' She walked back out to the sitting room. ‘Excuse me,' she said, leaning over the couch near Louise. ‘Did a parcel arrive for me?'

Louise winced. ‘Sorry,' she said, jumping up. ‘It's in the office, I'll go find it, and you can continue the interview–'

‘No, don't worry,' said Georgie. ‘I'm already up.'

‘Well, it'll be on the desk, or on the cabinet behind. I forgot about it . . . Sorry, Liam,' she called out as Georgie retreated.

‘What's going on?' Liam asked.

‘Apparently Louise forgot and she apologises,' Georgie explained. ‘I suppose I don't have to ask what it is.'

‘It's only a little thing, for the baby.'

‘Liam, you send something almost every week. You have to stop,' she said, closing the office door behind her.

‘Why?'

‘Because . . .'

‘It's my baby too,' Liam persisted. ‘What's the problem?'

The problem was it gave him an excuse to have more contact than Georgie felt completely comfortable with. She had to call him to thank him every time, and if she didn't he phoned to check it had arrived. Not that Liam had done anything to upset her. He'd been very caring. And Georgie had to admit that she liked talking to him about the baby. He was more interested than anyone else, even Nick. He wanted to know everything, every ache and pain, every movement the baby made, every detail from her antenatal visits. It was incredibly comforting, but she couldn't let herself get used to it.

‘Here it is,' she said to Liam. ‘I'll just put down the phone for a sec while I open it.'

It was one of those padded envelopes, so Georgie had to use scissors to cut through it. She peered inside and slid out a soft packet, wrapped in tissue paper. She folded back the sheets to reveal a tiny white baby suit. She picked up the phone again. ‘Oh Liam, it's gorgeous,' she cooed.

‘Do you like it?'

‘I do.' It was an all-in-one with tiny feet, and little bunny rabbits in palest pink and blue embroidered around the collar. Georgie had bought a number of outfits for the baby, but they still made her go all sappy and sentimental. She felt a lump rising in her throat.

‘It's so small, I can't believe the baby will fit into it,' Liam was saying.

Georgie sniffed. She couldn't speak. Tears filled her eyes as she gazed lovingly at the little suit.

‘Georgie?'

She still couldn't say anything.

‘Are you okay, Georgie?'

‘Oh,' she sighed tremulously, ‘I'm hopeless. I cry at the slightest thing these days.'

‘I think that's normal,' he said gently. ‘You're all right, though? There's nothing wrong?'

‘I'm fine.'

‘You're sleeping okay?'

‘Not too bad. I've heard it gets worse from here on in.'

‘Is there anything I can do?'

Georgie smiled. ‘Short of coming over and giving me a back rub in the middle of the night . . .'

‘You only have to pick up the phone.'

Her face crumpled. Every time she thought she could handle this whole platonic thing, Liam came out with something that sent her emotions reeling. Something sweet, something thoughtful, something that made her remember why she had fallen in love with him and forget for a moment what he had done to her. She couldn't suppress a loud sob.

‘Georgie,' said Liam, his voice full of concern.

‘I have to go,' she swallowed.

‘Are you okay?'

‘Yes, I'm fine. Just the hormones, you know. Talk to you later,' she blurted. ‘Bye.'

She hung up the phone and lowered herself onto a chair, hugging the little suit to her chest. Adam burst through the door.

‘Lawrence of Deludedville has left the building!' he announced. Then he looked at Georgie. ‘Hey, what's the matter, Tub, is something wrong?'

‘No, nothing,' she sighed, wiping her eyes.

‘Why are you crying?'

‘How the hell should I know?'

Adam pulled a chair over beside Georgie, watching her with a concerned frown. ‘Is there anything I can do?'

Tears welled again. ‘Don't, that's what got me started in the first place.'

‘I don't understand.'

She breathed out. ‘It's just, Liam's being so nice . . .'

Adam looked more confused. ‘That's good, isn't it?'

‘Yes,' she squeaked, her voice competing with tears to make it out of her throat.

‘Bloody women, you freak me out!' said Adam, shaking his head. ‘Do you realise how hard it is for a bloke to get it right?'

Georgie looked at him sheepishly.

‘Liam's being nice, so you're upset. I assume if he was being an arsehole you'd be upset too?'

She sniffed, nodding.

‘If you're going to get upset no matter what he does, you're going to be a blubbering mess, Tub. You've invited him into your baby's life, so he's going to be a part of your life too. You better get used to it.'

She took a deep, cleansing breath. ‘You're right, I know,' she said, steadying her voice. Adam passed her a box of tissues from the desk and she took one, looking plaintively at him. ‘You're not really going overseas are you, Ad?'

He nodded slowly and very deliberately. ‘After Christmas, for real this time. I've been way too comfortable in this job for too long. I have to move on, Tub.'

‘How am I going to get by without you, without coming in here every day?'

‘Ha, you're kidding, aren't you?' he scoffed. ‘You're having a baby! A whole new chapter of your life is about to open up. That's got to be more exciting than coming in here every day.'