Almost Perfect (44 page)

‘Do you like jazz?' Vincent asked, walking into the kitchen, his head bent over a magazine.

‘Hmm?' Anna murmured. She was sautéeing
some vegetables for dinner, shifting them around the pan absent-mindedly.

‘There's a jazz festival up the coast on the long weekend,' he said, tossing the magazine onto the bench. He came up behind her, circling her waist and nuzzling into her neck. ‘They have campsites, we could pitch a tent under the stars–'

‘Don't they have hotels around there?' she asked.

‘Where's your sense of adventure, woman?'

‘What sense of adventure? I never said I had a sense of adventure.'

‘Come on, it'll be fun.'

‘Did you say the long weekend?' she asked, turning halfway around.

‘Yep.'

‘In October?

‘Unless you know of any other long weekends coming up,' he said, releasing her and stepping back to open the door of the fridge. ‘Do you want a drink?'

‘Mm,' she said vaguely. ‘I have to go down to Melbourne for my father's birthday on the long weekend.'

Vincent turned around. ‘You can't go before or after?'

‘I promised my mother, and besides, I haven't seen them in ages,' Anna explained. ‘I really have to go.'

‘All right,' he shrugged, ‘we'll go to Melbourne instead.' He turned back to the fridge and took out a bottle of wine before closing the door again.

Anna was watching him. ‘You don't have to come with me.'

‘That's okay,' he said, reaching for glasses in the cupboard above the bench. ‘I'll visit my folks. Hey, we could set up something so you can catch up with Bronwyn. That'd be a blast.'

‘Vincent, I have to spend the whole time with my parents. I owe them one lousy weekend.'

He looked at her. ‘Okay.'

‘You should go to the festival, there's no reason you have to miss out because I can't go.'

‘I don't mind going to Melbourne with you.'

Anna went to say something, but decided against it. She turned back to the stove. Vincent put the glasses down on the bench and sighed. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't put that the right way. I'm happy to go to Melbourne, I want to go, there's nothing I'd rather do–'

‘It's not that.'

‘Then what is it?'

She leaned back against the bench, folding her arms. ‘I just need to spend some time with my parents.'

‘Yeah . . .?'

She hesitated. ‘It's just, well, they don't know you, Vincent.'

‘That's right,' he said. ‘Because they haven't met me.'

She didn't know what to say. Vincent was watching her intently.

‘Right then, okay, I understand,' he said calmly, tapping the countertop. Then he breathed out heavily and walked around the bench and out of the kitchen.

Anna sighed, turning off the flame on the stove. She followed him across the living room and out onto the deck. He was standing at the railing, looking out to the ocean.

‘Hey,' she said, coming up behind him. She pressed herself into his back, leaning her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him. ‘Don't be cross. It's just not the right time.'

He didn't respond.

‘Next time,' she promised. ‘Okay?'

Vincent took hold of her hands and eased them apart gently as he turned around to face her.

‘What are we doing, Anna?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Are we dating, are we living together, are we going somewhere?'

‘I thought we were having a good time,' she said plainly.

He shook his head, he was clearly annoyed.

‘What's your problem?' asked Anna. ‘You're the commitment-phobe.'

‘That's complete bullshit. Where did you get that idea?'

She blinked at him. ‘Well, you left Joanne as soon as she wanted to settle down.'

‘No, not because she wanted to settle down but because she wanted to settle for a life in the suburbs and a nine-to-five job, and the only freedom she talked about any more was a fucking furniture store.'

‘Why are you getting angry?' said Anna.

‘I'm not angry,' he cried. ‘Or, you know what,
maybe I am, but so what? It's only a fucking emotion, Anna. Why are you so scared of emotions?'

‘I'm not scared of emotions. What are you talking about?'

Vincent sighed, leaning back against the railing. ‘We've been together for what . . . a few months now? But I feel like I hardly know you.'

Anna folded her arms across her chest defensively.

‘Whatever I do know has come from your writing,' he continued, ‘but you're not even doing that any more. What's going on with you?'

‘I'm relaxing and enjoying myself for the first time in a long while,' Anna declared. ‘I don't want to analyse it, or to be analysed, for that matter. Do you know all the years I had to put up with constant, unremitting analysis of my flaws and defects?'

‘No, I don't know about any of that, that's the thing.'

‘Well, I'm sorry but I can't help you. I don't want to be “Anna, the infertile woman” any more. I don't want that to define who I am.'

‘I don't give a shit about that, Anna. But that's not all there is to you. You've got an ex-husband you barely ever mention, parents you don't seem to have much contact with. You don't have a job, you're not writing, what the hell are you doing?'

‘What's the matter, Vincent? Am I spoiling your fantasy? You have me up on a pedestal, exactly like Mac did. And I'm the one who takes the fall when you find out I'm not perfect.'

‘I don't think you're perfect, I don't expect you to be perfect, I just want you to be real. I want to connect with you.'

‘We do plenty of connecting, Vincent.'

‘Are you talking about the sex? Oh sure, we have plenty of sex, like you're trying to prove something. Yes, you're a sexual being, Anna, but you're not there. Most of the time it's like . . . well, you're just a warm body in the bed.'

Anna glared at him. She felt a twisting sensation in her chest and it hurt. ‘I don't need this.' She turned abruptly and marched back inside to the bedroom, picked up her overnight bag and tossed it on the bed.

She heard Vincent from the living room. ‘Anna, I'm sorry, that didn't come out right,' he called, before appearing in the doorway. ‘What are you doing?'

She was ranging around the room, collecting up her things. ‘I think we need some space for a few days,' she said, not looking at him.

‘No,' he said, coming towards her, ‘that's the last thing we need. What we need to do is work through this, and shout and yell if we have to, and then make up and make love–'

‘But I'm just a warm body.'

‘I said I was sorry, Anna, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. What I was trying to say–'

‘Don't bother, Vincent.' She shoved the last of her things into the bag and picked it up. ‘Look, we obviously got our wires crossed here,' she said coolly. ‘I was just having fun, I wasn't looking for anything serious.'

‘Don't say that, Anna.'

‘What? Don't tell you the truth? Let you keep living your fantasy?' she sniped, walking past him out
of the room. She was up the hall at the front door when he called her name. She turned around.

‘I didn't put you on a pedestal, Anna, you climbed up there yourself to keep out of reach. If you ever decide to come back down, I'll still be here.'

She opened the door and walked out, closing it behind her.

‘This is ungodly,' said Georgie, opening the door.

‘What is?' asked Liam.

‘This hour of the morning.'

‘You better get used to it, I hear babies favour this time of day.'

‘Don't rub it in,' she scowled, turning back into the flat.

Liam smiled, following her. ‘Are you all set then?'

She nodded, bending to pick up her suitcase.

‘I'll get that,' he chided, grabbing the handle first. Georgie reached for her handbag, but he beat her to that as well.

‘Liam, I think I can manage a handbag,' she insisted.

‘Look at the size of it,' he said, holding it up. ‘And it's heavy. What have you got in here anyway?'

‘A club for knocking you on the head when you annoy me. I think I need it now.'

They drove to the airport in silence save for small talk about the traffic and the weather, the background of the car radio filling in any awkward gaps. Georgie had had second thoughts through the week. Why had she agreed to this? Yes, meeting his family was important, essential in fact. But it could have waited till after the birth, then at least the baby would be the focus. Georgie had thought she was so clever turning the tables on Liam, but now she wasn't so sure. She hadn't taken into account how much time they would be alone together. It made her feel vulnerable.

After arriving at the airport and checking in, they had about half an hour before they could board the plane.

‘Do you want a cup of coffee?' Liam asked her.

‘No, it makes me sick now.'

‘Does it?'

She nodded.

‘That must make it difficult at work.'

‘Mm, I can't run the cafe any more.'

‘Do you want something else to drink, juice, water?'

Georgie sighed. ‘I better not. I'm worried about using the toilet on the plane.'

‘Why?'

‘Have you ever seen the size of the cubicles? I keep having visions of getting wedged in and needing to be rescued.'

Liam laughed. ‘I'm sure pregnant women have used the toilets without getting stuck. And fat people.'

She pulled a face. ‘Thanks for that.'

They boarded the plane at the first call and Georgie insisted Liam take the window seat. ‘I'm not going to climb across you if I need to go to the toilet.'

‘I thought you were trying to avoid the toilet?'

‘Not by being trapped in my seat.'

‘Does flying make you nervous at all?' Liam asked her after they were settled.

‘Not until someone asks me if I feel nervous, and then I have to think about why I could possibly be nervous and then yeah, I get a little nervous.'

‘Am I going to be able to say anything right, or should I just give up now?' said Liam.

Georgie looked at him. ‘What?'

‘Never mind.'

They were interrupted by the take-off announcements and procedures. Once they had reached cruising altitude and the seatbelt sign went out, Georgie immediately undid hers.

‘You know,' said Liam, ‘you don't have to take off the belt just because the sign says. They recommend you leave it on.'

‘It's too uncomfortable.'

‘Well, maybe you've got it on too tight. I could help you adjust it.'

Georgie looked at him sternly. ‘No thank you.'

‘Hey there, Mum!' a chirpy steward announced, pausing in the aisle by her seat. ‘How long have you got to go?' he asked, crouching down to her level.

Georgie opened her mouth to answer, but Liam got in first. ‘Six and a half weeks,' he blurted.

The steward planted his hand on her stomach.
‘Your first?' he said almost rhetorically, looking from Georgie to Liam. They nodded. ‘Do you know what you're having?'

‘No,' said Georgie, ‘I want it to be a surprise.'

‘Well, I'm Chad. You just sing out if you need anything, okay? Especially if you get stuck in the toilet!' he winked, standing up and continuing down the aisle.

‘I'm definitely not going to the toilet.'

Liam smiled faintly. ‘Does that bother you, complete strangers touching your stomach like that?'

‘He's not a complete stranger, he's Chad, my personal steward for the journey.'

‘Really though, it doesn't bother you?'

Georgie shrugged. ‘It was a little weird at first, but I don't think people mean to be rude. I mean, I've done it to women myself. It's kind of nice in a way. People who probably feel awkward shaking your hand will touch a pregnant tummy without thinking.'

Liam was contemplating the round bump of her belly.

‘Go ahead,' said Georgie.

He shook his head. ‘No, I didn't mean to put you on the spot.'

‘It's your baby.'

‘It's your body.'

‘Oh, for crying out loud, Liam,' Georgie sighed, grabbing his hand and placing it squarely on her stomach. ‘I'll try to get him to kick for you,' she said, prodding herself in the side.

‘No, don't!' said Liam, obviously alarmed.

‘Relax, it won't hurt the baby,' she assured him.

‘What does it feel like?' Liam asked her.

‘When he kicks?'

He nodded. ‘Does it hurt?'

‘Not usually,' said Georgie. ‘Occasionally he gives me a sharp one under the ribs or in the groin, that can be a bit of a shock. Louise said it gets more uncomfortable right at the end, but they usually don't kick as much then either.'

‘Why not?'

‘There's not enough room left.'

Liam shook his head, gazing down at her stomach, smoothing his hand gently over the curve. ‘It's amazing,' he murmured.

‘Mm,' she smiled. His eyes met hers, only for a moment, and Georgie felt her heart quicken. She looked away and Liam removed his hand, settling back into his seat.

‘So,' he said after a while, ‘have you thought of any names?'

‘Yes and no,' she shrugged. ‘I've thought of lots of names, but I haven't stuck on anything.'

‘Is Sierra Leone a possibility?'

‘I beg your pardon?'

‘You told me the very first time we met that you'd consider calling a daughter Sierra Leone.'

‘Did I?' said Georgie.

Liam nodded, smiling at her.

‘Oh well, you never know, I want to wait till I see the baby before I decide what name suits him or her.'

‘Fair enough.'

‘Did you have any names picked out?' Georgie asked him. ‘Because you ought to tell me, so I don't choose one of them.'

Liam looked dejected. ‘Thanks.'

‘That came out wrong,' she winced. ‘The thing is, I don't want to call the baby something you and your wife had picked out. I don't think she'd appreciate that, do you?'

‘I take your point,' he said quietly.

Georgie looked at him. ‘Do you see her much?'

He shook his head. ‘No, I haven't seen her since . . .' he breathed out heavily, ‘since I told her about the baby, actually.'

‘Oh, you never said, how did she take it?'

‘Not so great.'

‘I wouldn't think so.'

Liam turned to look out the window, but Georgie was not going to leave it at that.

‘So how long ago was that?'

He glanced back at her. ‘A couple of weeks after you told me.'

‘And you haven't had any contact since?'

He shrugged. ‘I tried to call her, probably two or three times, but I only got the answering machine. I left it about a week and tried again. She obviously doesn't want to talk to me.'

Georgie was thinking. ‘Doesn't it feel weird, to be married that long, to see somebody every day of your life, and then suddenly you have no contact at all?'

‘Yeah, I guess,' he said vaguely.

‘Do you miss her?'

‘Georgie,' he groaned.

‘What?'

‘These questions,' he muttered, shaking his head.

‘I just think it's odd that you could live with someone all those years and not miss their physical presence in your day-to-day life.'

‘But my day-to-day life has changed so radically – I'm not in the same house, or the same job. Everything feels weird. It's like I'm living a whole different life.'

Georgie nodded. ‘Tell me about her.'

‘I'm sorry?'

‘Tell me about Anna,' she repeated. ‘How you met, when you got married, what she's like . . .'

Liam sighed, rubbing his forehead. ‘Georgie, why do you want to know all that?'

‘I'm curious.'

‘This is one of those situations where I can't win no matter what.'

‘What are you trying to win?'

‘It's like when a woman asks if she looks fat in something,' Liam went on, ignoring her. ‘A man is screwed whatever he says.'

‘What are you going on about?'

‘If I say something nice about Anna, you're not going to like that, but if I say anything negative about her, you're not going to like that either.'

‘Hey, Liam,' said Georgie, getting his attention. He looked at her. ‘Here's a concept. You could try telling the truth.'

He seemed a little agitated. ‘I'm not the big fat liar you think I am, Georgie.'

‘I never said you were fat.'

He frowned.

‘Come on, Liam, I'm not trying to catch you out,' said Georgie. ‘I'm genuinely interested.'

Liam considered her. He'd wanted a chance to explain, to put his case forward, for so long.

‘Tell me about Anna,' Georgie urged, ‘the good, the bad, the ugly. I want to understand what happened between you.'

‘Okay,' he relented, ‘but could we keep it down a little?'

‘What?'

‘I don't want half the plane hearing my private business.'

‘Oh Liam,' Georgie scoffed, ‘no one's interested in our conversation.'

He gave her a disapproving look.

‘Okay,' she gave in, lowering her tone. ‘So, you said that going through IVF ruined your marriage?'

He nodded.

‘But were you having problems before that? Sometimes couples think a baby's going to save their marriage.'

Liam shrugged. ‘I wasn't aware of any problems. We were happy, we both loved our jobs, and when I was offered a promotion in Sydney, Anna was more excited than I was to make the move. We bought a great house, things were good . . . we were living the dream.'

‘The dream usually includes a family.'

‘I thought it would one day. But Anna was way ahead of me. When she didn't fall pregnant after a
couple of years, she wanted to investigate, which was okay with me. But then she became driven, obsessed by the end. I think she would have done anything, you know. Even when our marriage was falling down around our ears, all she seemed to care about was getting back on the treatment.' He paused. ‘And that's when it struck me, I didn't want to bring a baby into our lives the way things were. It wouldn't be fair – the expectations, the pressure on the poor kid would be ridiculous.'

Georgie was watching him intently. He was staring ahead, almost talking to himself. She suddenly had a glimpse of the father he could be.

‘What?' He was looking at her now, wondering why she was staring at him probably.

Georgie stirred. ‘What was Anna like before?'

Liam groaned. ‘You're really pushing this, aren't you?'

‘I'm just wondering if it changed her. Was she an obsessive type of person generally? Or was she more easygoing before it all happened?'

‘I wouldn't say she was obsessive, but easygoing? I don't know,' he shook his head doubtfully.

‘How would you describe her then?' Georgie persisted. ‘What attracted you to her?'

Liam became thoughtful again. ‘She was very beautiful, she still is. And she was elegant and poised, and . . . exactly what I was looking for at the time.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well . . .' he hesitated. ‘You have to understand it was very important to me back then to move ahead, for every decision or choice I made to take me
further up the ladder,' he tried to explain. ‘Marrying Anna moved me up quite a few rungs.'

Georgie curled her lip. ‘You married her for her money?'

‘No,' he assured her, ‘I made my own money. But I think I married her, at least partly, because she had money, or she was brought up with it. She was used to it. She had breeding, I suppose.'

‘You're making her sound like a horse.'

‘You asked me to be honest and I'm only telling it like it is. Or was,' he added. ‘And don't get me wrong, I did love her, of course I did, I wasn't that calculating. I was awestruck when we first met. And after that we were a good fit. We liked the same things, we enjoyed each other's company. I was content. It wasn't until,' he hesitated, glancing at Georgie. ‘It was only later that I realised there wasn't any passion. You know what they say, you can't miss something you've never had. But once you have, you find it hard to live without.'

Georgie felt herself going pink. She sat back in her chair, staring fixedly ahead.

‘You were the one who wanted to open the can of worms,' he muttered.

‘Well, let's close it again then,' she said tightly, taking a magazine from the pocket in front of her and pretending to become absorbed in it. Georgie got the distinct impression that Liam was just a little pleased that he'd managed to rattle her. One thing for sure, she wasn't going to listen to tired old lines about his loveless marriage, his wife not understanding him, blah, blah. He had a duty to work on his
marriage, not abandon it when the going got tough. Was this the kind of father he was going to be? A fair-weather dad, happy to be around when the child was cute and compliant, nowhere to be found when he grew into a back-answering, difficult teenager . . . who would be even more trouble without a father around?

‘You do realise a child's forever,' Georgie blurted suddenly.