Avoiding Mr Right

• Title Page
  
• Copyright Page
  
• Chapter one Sydney vs. Melbourne
  
• Chapter two The SWOT analysis
  
• Chapter three NO sex, NO ciggies and NO-ONE calling me babe!
  
• Chapter four Aunt Homophobe
  
• Chapter five Saying goodbye
  
• Chapter six Settling in fine, with vegan wine and a place that's mine
  
• Chapter seven Manipulative Max
  
• Chapter eight Getting cultured in Melbourne
  
• Chapter nine Two snow peas in a wok
  
• Chapter ten Painful piercings
  
• Chapter eleven Toorak and tramlines
  
• Chapter twelve Lesbians, lattes and La Rambla
  
• Chapter thirteen Facebook friends and a fundraiser
  
• Chapter fourteen Italy on eight hours' sleep
  
• Chapter fifteen Happy Easter
  
• Chapter sixteen Poetic policing
  
• Chapter seventeen The stalker cop
  
• Chapter eighteen No pig jokes, no pick-up lines
  
• Chapter nineteen Foot in mouth
  
• Chapter twenty The first serious argument
  
• Chapter twenty-one Babysitting
  
• Chapter twenty-two Stock market cum meat market
  
• Chapter twenty-three Luna Park
  
• Chapter twenty-four Finding the answers for myself and others
  
• Chapter twenty-five The art of seduction or seductive art?
  
• Chapter twenty-six Dinner at Jacques Reymond
  
• Chapter twenty-seven It's nice being a couple
  
• Chapter twenty-eight Woodford Dreaming
  
• Chapter twenty-nine Saltwater, spas and steam rooms
  
• Chapter thirty A trip to the G
  
• Chapter thirty-one End the intervention! Human rights for all!
  
• Chapter thirty-two Authentically, not!
  
• Chapter thirty-three Virgin to Vegas
  
• Chapter thirty-four The hairdresser with heavenly hands but a world view from hell
  
• Chapter thirty-five Caring for Constable Care
  
• Chapter thirty-six The 'too cute' guy
  
• Chapter thirty-seven My Melbourne Cup floweth over
  
• Chapter thirty-eight A day at the Guggenheim and the gardens
  
• Chapter thirty-nine The World Famous Fat Bastard Burger
  
• Chapter forty Singing the Kimberley
  
• Chapter forty-one Kissing cousins
  
• Chapter forty-two New Year resolutions
  
• Chapter forty-three Heavy hearts
  
• Chapter forty-four Should old acquaintance . . .
  
• Epilogue
  
• Acknowledgements
  
• About the Author
  
• Extract: Not Meeting Mr Right
  

Anita Heiss

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the
Australian Copyright Act 1968
), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Avoiding Mr Right
ePub ISBN 9781864715828
Kindle ISBN 9781864716528

A Bantam book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney, NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au

First published by Bantam in 2008

Copyright © Anita Heiss 2008
The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any
person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory
exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or
by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission
of Random House Australia.

Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at
www.randomhouse.com.au/offices

National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Heiss, Anita, 1968–
Avoiding Mr Right.
ISBN 978 1 86325 604 9 (pbk.)
Man–woman relationships – Fiction.
A823.3

Cover illustration and design by saso content & design pty ltd
Internal design by V J Battersby, typeset in Adobe Caslon Pro 11.5/15.5
Printed and bound by Griffin Press, South Australia

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is entirely
coincidental.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

'I'm moving to Melbourne,' I blurted, and waited for the
fallout.

'What?' My three friends chorused their disbelief,
their voices echoing through Sauce Bar, which was
uncharacteristically empty for a Sunday afternoon. It was a
scorcher, so most locals were on the beach, and it was just
us in the restaurant.

I'd known for three weeks I was moving, but wanted to
wait until we were all together so I could deliver my prepared
speech. I heard the umpire call 'Six!' from across the road as
the local cricket match entertained the few spectators sitting
under the thirty-degree sun. A drop of sweat made its way
down my leg as I took a deep breath and began.

'I've been given the chance of lifetime – a job as a manager
in the newly formed Department of Media, Sports, Arts,
Refugees and Indigenous Affairs.'

'You mean DOMSARIA?' Liza confirmed, and sucked
an oyster from its shell.

'Yes. With my policy-making experience, there's a real
chance that I can move through the ranks quickly – and to
be honest, there's no reason why I couldn't one day be the
Minister for Cultural Affairs. We're always talking about
how we never have Blackfellas managing our portfolio.'

'Wow, that's huge,' Alice said. 'But . . .'

'But what? I don't want to hear
buts
from my friends
today. I want to hear
That's great, congratulations, we're happy
for you
.'

'Of course it's great,' Alice said.

'And congratulations on the promotion,' Dannie added.

'And, yes, we're happy for you.' Liza lifted her glass in
a toast.

'But . . .' they all said in unison.

'It's just that it's so sudden. We're a bit shocked,' Alice
said.

'And why
Melbourne
?' Liza asked.

'I know, I know, it's not ideal, but this job is in Melbourne,
so that's where I'll be. And besides, it's only for a year.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Peta, you hate Melbourne,' Liza
said accusingly.

'
Loathe
Melbourne would be more accurate,' Alice said
as she stuffed a hand-cut chip in her mouth.

'Actually, I don't believe I have
ever
heard you say a nice
word about Melbourne,' Dannie reminded me. She was
right – they were all right – but how could I agree with
them now that I'd made the decision, accepted the offer and
started packing?

'So, you're taking James with you, then?' said Alice. And
there it was: the obvious question.

I tried to keep it light.

'Are you kidding? Taking a man to Melbourne would be
like taking a sandwich to a smorgasbord.'

The girls looked at me in disbelief.

'I thought you were getting serious,' said Alice. 'Peta, he's
totally into you. Surely you don't want to be single again?'

I had been in a relationship with James for eight months,
but the more serious he got, the more unsure I became of
myself and of us as a couple. He was already talking about
moving in with me, and I felt pressured. He was a lot like
Alice, wanting to get married and have kids by a certain
date. He wanted it all done and dusted by the time he was
thirty-five. He was thirty-three, but I was still only thirty.

'I actually liked being single before I met James.
Remember? I used to have loads of fun. Of course I have
fun now, but I'm just saying, being single wasn't a drag for
me like it was for you.' Alice looked confused and I couldn't
blame her. For the eight months I'd been seeing James we'd
always been together on weekends and seemed very tight,
but he was also one of the reasons I had to leave Sydney.
At this point in my career, he was an albatross around my
neck.

'Look at my track record – I've been in love so many times
but it never lasts. Men never satisfy me like my job does, so
I stay in the same work and just change the boyfriend, and
somehow I'm always relatively happy and content, pretty
much like you girls but around the other way.' As I said it, it
made complete sense to me. I had finally worked it out: my
best relationship to date had been with my job, not men.

'You know what you are?' Dannie said, waving her fork
at me – something she'd rouse on her kids for doing at the
dinner table.

'Tell me, oh wise one. What am I?' Dannie was getting a
glow up and was about to throw some pearler at me.

'You're
love fickle
. Love fickle! That's what you are.' And
the other two nodded in agreement.

'Do tell.' I was amused.

'You've had more crushes than I've had fights over TV
on at the dinner table, and that's every other day,' Dannie
said.

'That's a bit harsh,' I said. I'd had a few boyfriends, but
did that make me love fickle? 'At least I'm not a relationship
accelerator, thinking about getting married on every first
date.' I didn't look at Alice but she knew I was talking about
her. So did the other girls. We'd all been through Alice's ten-point
plan to find her Mr Right, and in the end he turned
out to be the guy who'd been emptying her garbage bin every
day for years. Before meeting Gary every date she went on
somehow turned into an interview for a potential husband.

I was completely the opposite. While Alice used to
say
she
loved being single, I don't think she actually meant it. The
difference was
I
did. I had never dreamed about the wedding
and white picket fence – or in the case of Coogee, the car
space outside the flat. That was Alice's dream. I dreamed
about professional accolades and titles and an office door
with my name on it. I wanted the power to make change
through government policy. I wanted the high-flying career
and a team of staff – and a pay cheque to match. I wasn't
embarrassed to say I loved shopping. I was the Imelda
Marcos of our group because I had an obsession with shoes.
(Dannie, the only parent in our posse, always pointed out,
'You only have two feet, Peta. How many pairs of shoes
do you need?') I didn't have that 'sacrifice-everything-for-your-kids' gene that married, maternal women had. I had
the me-me-me-gene, and I was quite comfortable with it.

'Look, the reality is that I'm not ready to settle down yet,
and I want to be completely sure when I do. I want to have
my
own
life sorted out first and then I'll be ready to share
it, properly.'

'But James is a great guy. A good guy. An honest, caring,
generous guy.' Alice looked me straight in the eye. She'd be
pissed off if I let him go. He was truly a rare find, particularly
in Sydney.

'And he's gorgeous,' Liza added with a mouthful of salad.

'And he'd do
anything
for you. God, I can't imagine you'd
ever have to nag him,' Dannie said, then sipped long on her
wine. 'And you'd never have to work. He would make the
perfect
husband.'

'But I want to work. That's the point. I want to be out
there doing it, making social change, not changing nappies.'
I looked to Dannie. 'No offence.'

'And just because he'd make the perfect husband, does
that mean he's perfect for me?'

'I reckon he's your soul mate, Peta, and you only get one
of those,' Alice said.

'My soul mate is McDreamy, but I can't marry him,' Liza
said and we all laughed. They were probably right about me
and James. He certainly was a lovely bloke. Considerate,
caring, wonderful, funny, sexy. I couldn't really fault him.
But sometimes I thought he loved me too much. It didn't
seem healthy. With James I couldn't do anything wrong,
even when I did.

'You're all right, of course – we're getting on just fine.
James
is
a great guy and he's perfect. And I do love him
dearly, but this is the chance of a lifetime.' What I was
doing was right for me and for James. I was being fair to
both of us. I'd be a more complete woman when I returned
in twelve months.

Alice just wouldn't let it rest. 'I know you always enjoyed
the single life, but I thought maybe this time you'd met
your Mr Right, just like I did with Gary.' I wasn't quite sure
if it was friendly concern or something else in her voice. I
tightened up my halter neck dress, and sighed.

'Look Alice,
your
holy grail might have been finding Mr
Right, but mine has never been that. I've only ever wanted
to enjoy my life, make some social change where I could
through Indigenous education or whatever, and then, oh,
I don't know, maybe one day settle down, when there's
nothing else to do. Isn't that enough for now? I would've
thought you'd be happy for me.' I delivered my words with
a dramatic tremble in my voice and a quivering bottom lip,
trying to make them all feel guilty. I could feel the alcohol
kicking in and stood up for effect, not quite sure what I was
going to do next. They all looked at me startled, as if to say,
What are you doing?

'I'm going to have a smoke.'

I think they thought I was about to cry and if they kept
humbugging me I probably would have. I tripped over my
handbag, pushed my chair out of the way, turned towards
the door and steadied myself. Guilt was good when used
correctly. I'd got a lot of favours from whitefellas by
suggesting that something be done for me 'in the spirit of
reconciliation'. Couldn't pull that card with these girls, but
guilt can come in many forms, and they were now riddled
with it. As I walked off Alice sang after me.

'We are happy for you! Of course we are! We're delighted
for you, sis, don't get upset. God, we've got somewhere to
go for weekends away now and great shopping.'

'Excellent shopping,' Dannie said loudly.

'And great restaurants,' Liza bellowed. There were still
no other patrons so we had claimed the entire restaurant as
ours.

I stood outside rolling a cigarette. I'd really have to give
up smoking when I moved to Melbourne. People always told
me I had a beautiful smile, but the nicotine was starting to
affect it. James had always hated me smoking, and drinking
for that matter.

'Can you clean your teeth before you kiss me? Can you
do that outside? Haven't you got better things to spend
your money on?' His 'stop-smoking' nagging was relentless,
but the girls never saw that. And as for drinking, he always
counted how many I'd had, even when I wasn't driving.

When I went back inside, Liza was still stuffing her face.
She could always pack it away in the past, but I noticed that
she'd clearly gained some weight over the past few months
since moving in with Tony. I'd read that contentment with
Mr Right saw couples put on something like five kilograms
in the first three years together. I certainly couldn't afford to
do that. My skinny Murri ankles were flat out holding me
up as it was, and when I did put on weight it went straight
to my boobs. James being the architect used to say, 'If you
were a building you'd be structurally unsound.'

When I sat down, no-one said a word. The mood was
uncomfortable. 'Well, what now?' I asked no-one in particular.
Liza immediately sat upright and grabbed a pen and
pad from her bag, looking slightly pissed but nonetheless
in control.

'No, please, not that. Anything but that!' I said.