Mango Kisses (32 page)

‘I’ve moved house and I lost my mobile just before Christmas. I’ll give you the new number.’

‘What about the job? Some snotty sounding woman said you didn’t work there anymore when I called.’

‘I quit.’

‘Really?’ Marianne straightened up. ‘Because of the partnership thing?’

Tiffany nodded. ‘Partly. I’m setting up on my own.’

‘Cool! Where’s your office?’

‘Birrigai.’

‘What? You’re kidding.’ She studied Tiffany with a sceptical frown.

Tiffany shook her head. ‘I did some research and I’ve bought a house up on the headland just along from Miles’s place. It has the perfect room for an office. It used to be an artist’s studio.’

‘And you’re turning it into an office?’ said Marianne. ‘Sacrilege.’

‘It’s a good size and has a separate entrance.’

Marianne shook her head as though trying to shake something into place, a bizarre notion that didn’t gel at all with any other facts she had stored away. ‘You’re really moving to Birrigai? I knew you liked it up there but that’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? For someone like you? Ambitious, I mean. Isn’t it a dead end in a career path?’

‘I’ll be my own boss. I think I’ll do well and I’ve already got some clients lined up.’

‘I guess you wouldn’t have done it without checking everything thoroughly. Not like you to just up and move. That’s the sort of thing I do.’ She leaned back again and crossed her legs, jogging one elegant crimson-toed foot in its sandal up and down.

Tiffany let that one pass. ‘Guess what the house is called.’

‘Umm. Mon Repose? Dun Roamin?’

‘Nearly. Emoh Ruo. It’s carved on a piece of driftwood nailed to the wall.’

Marianne gave a satisfied little snigger. ‘Perfect. Don’t you dare change it.’ She stared at the grass. ‘I’ve missed you. I only just now realised how much. How come you never called me?’ Marianne’s classical Greek profile was severe and she didn’t turn her head.

Tiffany inhaled sharply. How come? ‘I didn’t think you were interested,’ she said but it was feeble. The truth was she hadn’t dared. ‘And I’ve been preoccupied.’

‘Bloody Erik,’ said Marianne viciously. ‘What an idiot. It serves him right. Now he’s stuck with that prawn, Victor.’

‘You were right,’ blurted Tiffany. ‘About Kevin, you were right. He told me it was the best thing he’s ever done, moving to Sydney.’ She gave a little snort of nervous laughter. ‘And he blames us.’

‘I know. I’ve seen him a few times at the Flamingo Club. Have you seen his act?’

‘Once, before Christmas. I’m sorry I said those things to you, Marianne, in Birrigai.’

Marianne nodded slowly. ‘What did your Dad say when you told him?’ She turned her head as she asked, and her dark eyes burned into Tiffany’s. Was she going to add her own apology?

‘You were right about that too.’ Tiffany’s voice came out low and she pretended to herself the hoarseness was from tiredness and the strain of the last twenty-four hours. ‘But I’m running my own business so that’s acceptable.’

‘Running your own business, that’s so cool.’ Marianne grinned her familiar grin. Then it faded. ‘I’ve always admired that about you, you know? You’re always so together, you know exactly what you want and you go and get it. Nothing fazes you.’

Tiffany could only stare. This woman had known her for thirteen years and had no idea of the mess inside her head most of the time, the doubts and insecurities simmering away just under the surface.

Marianne continued, ‘I race around like some sort of manic butterfly. If it hadn’t been for your example I never, ever would have finished that arts degree. Never. I’m bloody hopeless when it comes to men, too. I hurl myself at them. One day I’m going to get myself murdered or something by some crazy I’ve picked up. I wish I was more like you. Dad used to say the same thing. You were the shining example of how to succeed in life. I never resented you for that. I agreed with him.’

‘But I’ve always wanted to be more like you! That’s why I like you and your family so much. You’re all so passionate and open and I wanted to be like that too, but I couldn’t, it didn’t rub off. You knew how to talk to boys and I never did. The boys I liked were never interested in me.’

‘Sam Black,’ crowed Marianne and laughed, but she looked at Tiffany with a softer, wondering expression. ‘Did you really think that about me?’ Tiffany nodded and she said, ‘Weird isn’t it? How come we never knew?’

‘Too wrapped up in ourselves, I suppose. I’m not confident. The only thing I’m sure about is my work,’ said Tiffany.

‘I can’t believe I missed out on such a big decision of yours. You were so mad at me. I’ve never seen you so angry.’

‘I think I was too ashamed to admit you were right.’

‘I don’t think I was completely right about everything, I was pretty angry too. I’m sorry.’

Marianne squeezed Tiffany’s hand and she returned the pressure, then Marianne leaned over and hugged her hard.

‘Can we go inside now? I’m dying of heatstroke,’ said Tiffany in a voice that only wavered a little bit. They walked towards the main entrance.

‘Have you moved up to Birrigai yet?’

‘Yes, sort of. My stuff arrived yesterday.’

‘How come you’re here?’

‘I’m looking for Miles.’

‘Isn’t he at home?’

‘No and he’s the main reason I moved up there in the first place.’

And to Marianne’s evident astonishment Tiffany burst into tears for the first time in their long friendship.

Miles had left another message. She pounced on the machine with its red flashing light and listened, heart thudding. He was at the Hyatt. He’d thought the same as she had — start again from the same place. But that was a day ago.

Miles waited in his room, sitting on his balcony or reading on his bed, too anxious to go out in case he missed her again. By lunchtime on the second day he was stir-crazy, hope in tatters. He had to go out, an hour at most. The chances of her calling were minimal now but he gave specific instructions at the desk that if she called they must ask her for the best time to phone back.

He stood on the street outside the hotel entrance deciding which way to walk to find the closest pub — left, towards The Rocks.

‘Miles.’

The voice was tentative and slightly hoarse but it was achingly familiar. He spun around and she was there. Gorgeous, she was absolutely stunningly, mind=-blowingly, heart-stoppingly gorgeous. Her hair shone gold in the bright sunlight. She wore a simple blue sundress, which matched her eyes. She stood watching him with a slight smile on her beautiful lips. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

Miles gulped and swallowed, his mind racing through every conceivable response to that question, from grabbing her and violently kissing her to shaking her hand and saying, ‘How nice to see you.’ His brain failed to cope, his body refused to co-operate. He said, ‘Fine.’

Tiffany smiled and her lips quivered slightly before the smile faded into unmistakeable anxiety. Her eyes bored into him. Blue lasers.

‘Lunch,’ blurted Miles. ‘I’m going to lunch.’

‘Oh. I won’t hold you up then.’ The smile appeared again but wavered. She bit at her bottom lip in that hesitant way that snatched at his heart. Not calm and aloof. She was as nervous and scared as unsure as he was.

‘No. Come with me. I’m not meeting anyone. I’m just hungry.’

‘All right.’ She took a step towards him. Stopped.

‘Where would you like to go?’

‘Anywhere cool.’

‘We could go back inside,’ said Miles. ‘Save walking in the heat. The hotel restaurants aren’t bad.’ That sounded hideously pompous.

‘Yes. I’ve eaten here before.’

Of course, she would have. Miles led Tiffany to the smaller, more casual, bistro-style room. They sat at a table by the window with a view of the Opera House across the bay. The waitress fussed and fiddled with menus and poured glasses of iced water.

‘You’ve been travelling,’ Tiffany said.

‘Yes.’ He gave a cursory glance at the menu and ordered grilled fish and a beer. Tiffany asked for a salad and a fruit plate. She seemed cool and calmer now, catching up with an old friend. Or was he more of an old client to her.

‘Any problems with the finances?’ she asked. ‘The properties, agents?’

‘No. I’ve met them all and seen the places.’ Why were they talking about that for God’s sake? Why couldn’t he tell her again what he’d been aching to tell her since he first saw her on the beach? And get it right this time instead of blowing it.

‘You’re set for life if you’re careful.’ She sipped at her water but he saw the pleased expression. She liked the idea of the money. His heart contracted. Is that all it was for her? Could she separate the idea of him as a man from the idea of him as a millionaire? ‘Are you really intending to stay in Sydney?’

Miles nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about where to live. Shouldn’t have too much trouble finding somewhere decent with a harbour view. Don’t have to worry about the cost after all.’ He smiled. ‘I’m not like my father in that respect.’

‘Did you discover anything more about your parents?’ She ran her fingers up and down the condensation on her water glass studying the patterns she made. A little damp patch appeared on the tablecloth.

He shook his head. ‘I went to the hotel. I asked the manager and spoke to a porter but they knew nothing much about him. It’s a mystery. The answer died with my parents.’ Her fingers stopped moving. He studied her face but she didn’t look up. No reaction. ‘The past is gone. I have to think of the future,’ he said harshly. Tiffany’s eyes moved to his, startled, but he wasn’t sure whether it was by his tone or the words he uttered.

‘I’ve been thinking about that...Kevin said something.’ She held his gaze briefly, clearly unsure whether to continue.

‘What about?’

‘Your mother ran into him in Coffs once when he was in drag after a show. He said she looked really strange when she recognised him, disapproving but she didn’t say anything to him and she never told anyone in Birrigai, for which he was grateful. It made me wonder...’

‘If my father did the same thing?’

‘Did you look through the clothes you threw out?’

He shook his head. ‘Only enough to see they were clothes.’

‘Maybe she didn’t want you to have anything to do with a man who would...do that. She wanted to protect you but was fair-minded enough to allow him to keep tabs on you.’

Miles drew in a deep breath. It was possible. ‘She had strong views on things. When she made up her mind about something she was unshakable.’

‘I could be wrong. It’s rather an extreme action.’

‘She could be like that.’ He shook his head and sighed, picked up his beer. ‘I thought I knew her.’

He drank and set the glass down, looked up to find her watching him.

‘What was it you wanted to see me about?’ The blue of her eyes penetrated every layer of his being.

The waitress slid his plate of fish in front of him. The interruption gave Miles time to fabricate an answer. She seemed different, this woman sitting opposite. Self-assured, cool, almost impersonal, but delicate. Was she disappointed in what she saw? Was he less than she’d expected now that she was seeing him in her own environment? He didn’t fit here despite the clothes and the money, he knew that, but would telling her the real reason make any difference to her? She frightened him, or rather, what she might say so casually, frightened him.

‘I don’t know anyone in Sydney.’ His heart pounded hard in his chest. ‘I regard you as a friend. Am I wrong?’

Tiffany dropped her gaze to her plate. Her lips moved but if she’d spoken he didn’t hear what she said. She turned her head and stared out the window.

‘I’m still the same person,’ he said softly. ‘The money won’t change that.’

‘Won’t it? I think it has already.’ She gestured at their surroundings, his clothes.

‘Don’t you like it here?’ Miles frowned, bewildered.

‘Of course, I do. But you don’t, do you? Really?’ Tiffany stared at him and he sensed something approaching desperation in her tone.

‘Money has definite benefits. What’s not to like?’ He sat back and raised an eyebrow. ‘Sydney’s not so bad.’

‘What about Birrigai? The shop? Your house?’ Her hand gripped her fork so tightly the nails were white. Unvarnished nails. As far as he could remember they’d always they’d been immaculately painted.