Pictures of Lily (9 page)

‘We really should give her a name.’ I pick up the pepper-shaker and put it down again because I don’t want to look like I’m copying him.

‘Yeah, I was thinking that. What do you want to call her?’

‘Me? Oh, I think you should do the honours.’

‘No, no, you found her –
you
should.’

I think aloud. ‘We could name her after one of my sisters?’

‘Or you?’ Ben suggests and my heart jumps.

‘Lily?’ I choke out.

He shrugs. ‘Why not?’

‘No, no, that would be too embarrassing.’ Although if she were called Lily, he’d think of me every time he attended to her. Hmm . . .

‘Kay or Olivia, then?’ he continues. Damn. Too late. ‘Or both?’

‘Kalivia?’ I suggest, deadpan.

He grins. ‘Olikay?’

‘Perhaps we’ll flip a coin.’

He gets one out of his pocket as a waitress arrives with our drinks. He waits until she’s unloaded them from her tray before continuing. ‘Heads for Olivia, tails for Kay?’

‘Go for it,’ I say, and he neatly flips the coin and catches it, slamming it down on the back on his left hand. He lifts up his right hand so I can peer under it.

‘Heads.’

‘Olivia it is,’ he confirms, putting the coin back into his pocket.

‘That’s good. So now we have a koala called Cindy and another called Olivia. Two more to go for Kay and me and then all of the Neverley girls are sorted.’

He chuckles as the waitress returns with our food. We both tuck in. The croissant has been gently warmed and the cheese is just starting to melt. Yum. After a while my eyes are drawn to the tinsel sparkling in the afternoon sun. I get out my camera and Ben leans out of the way so I can take a photo. I
so
want to tell him to get back into the picture, but I don’t.

‘I can’t believe it’s Christmas Day on Saturday.’ I put my camera down on the table. ‘It doesn’t feel like Christmas here.’

‘Doesn’t it?’

‘No. Christmas should be dark and frosty and full of fairy lights.’

‘I guess it’s just what you’re used to. I’ll have you know we do bloody good lights though. You should check out the lights at Lobethal. Maybe I’ll take you there on your next driving lesson.’

A whole evening with him? I try not to let my excitement show. ‘It’s only three nights before Christmas.’

‘What are you up to tomorrow night?’

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. ‘Nothing much.’

‘Tomorrow, then?’

YAY! ‘Cool.’

‘We could go straight after work.’

‘In our
work clothes
?’

He rolls his eyes. ‘You can get changed in the staffroom if you really can’t bear the shorts.’

‘Hey, I’m wearing a skirt today,’ I point out.

‘I noticed.’ He smiles across at me and once again I have to look away so he can’t see me blushing.

‘I think I should drive so you can fully appreciate the wonder of the spectacle.’

‘If you insist.’ I sigh theatrically and reach for another one of the sour peach hearts we picked up at the Hahndorf sweet shop yesterday.
Seriously
addictive.

We’ve been driving around for an hour on my second proper lesson. It’s the first time I’ve driven at night so I was nervous to begin with, but I think it’s going pretty well. I’ve finally got a handle on the clutch so I don’t think even Josh could take the mickey too much any more. We didn’t go straight after work in the end, because Ben forgot that the lights wouldn’t be switched on until later, but he came to the house after dinner and has been directing me on a tour around the hills. We’ve just been to see a giant rocking horse in a tiny town called Gumeracha where Ben informed me that South Australia also has a huge lobster and a massive galah (a pink and grey parrot – I had to ask). I am really starting to like this freaky part of the world.

‘Jesus Christ!’ I exclaim, twenty minutes later when we reach Lobethal.

‘Using the Lord’s name in vain at this time of year?’ Ben tuts jokingly.

‘Seriously, this is genius. Genius!’

When Mum and I lived with Desmond in East Yorkshire, I remember him taking me to see a house in a place called Driffield which was decorated with the most outrageously brilliant Christmas lights, spilling all the way down the garden. But this, I have to say, takes some beating. It seems as if
all
of the residents in this town have adorned their houses with festive displays, so street upon street is brightly lit by millions of multicoloured bulbs.

‘Look at that one!’ I cry at the sight of a full-size Santa on a rooftop, equipped with sleigh and reindeer to boot.

‘Take a photo, then.’

‘Hold on, hold on.’ I wind down the window and hold the camera as steadily as I can so the shot doesn’t blur too much.

‘Pretty specky, hey?’ I assume he means spectacular.

‘I bloody love it!’

‘I told you we could do lights well here.’

‘Say no more on the matter.’ I wave my hand at him dramatically.

‘Speaking of lights, have you seen the view from Mount Lofty yet?’ he asks.

‘Mount Lofty, up the hill from where Michael lives?’

‘Yes. Up the hill from where
you
live.’

I laugh. ‘Yeah, yeah, okay, where
I
live. No, I haven’t seen the view from Mount Lofty yet.’

‘Right, then, that’s the next stop. Do you want to drive?’

‘Too bloody right I do.’

‘Now you’re starting to sound like an Aussie.’

It’s nine o’clock by the time we reach Mount Lofty summit. I carefully park the car and we climb out and walk towards the restaurant and gift shop. Ben leads me along the right-hand side of the building and turns back to point down the hill.

‘That’s Piccadilly Valley down there,’ he says. There’s a sign next to him and I skimread it to find that the name Piccadilly ‘probably’ came from the Aboriginal word
Piccodla
. Piccodla made up the eyebrows of Urebilla, the giant whose body formed the mountain ranges.

‘That’s interesting,’ I say. ‘And there’s me thinking it was named after Piccadilly in London.’

Ben chuckles. ‘It probably was. There’s a sign outside a church in Piccadilly saying a Mrs Emma Young named it after Piccadilly in London back in 1853.’

‘Oh. I think I prefer this explanation.’

‘It’s certainly more romantic. Can you see your house?’

I follow the line of his finger. ‘Which one is it?’

‘Here.’ He puts his arm around me to draw me closer. It’s a perfectly innocent gesture on his part, but it sets my insides on fire. ‘There,’ he says.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I reply, actually not seeing the house at all because my head is buzzing too loudly for me to be able to concentrate. He lets me go, but I’m a mess. I know I’ll relive this moment over and over again later.

Around the front of the summit building there’s a tall white obelisk. It would look striking against the blue sky – I’ll have to come back in the daytime to photograph it. And then I see the view.

‘Wow!’ The city of Adelaide is lit up and sprawled out in front of us.

‘Check out the moon!’ Ben exclaims.

I turn around to see an
enormous
yellow disc rising above the dark hills in the east.

‘That’s incredible,’ I breathe as Ben straddles a bench seat. I nervously sit opposite him.

‘You can see it moving,’ he murmurs.

‘So you can,’ I marvel. ‘It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one like that in England.’ I take out my camera and try to hold it steady as I click off a couple of shots. I know full well that I won’t be able to do this sight justice.

‘I love coming here at night,’ Ben says quietly, glancing left towards the city lights, sparkling in the heat haze.

‘Is it your second favourite place to go in the city?’ I remember that his favourite place is the lily pond in Adelaide’s Botanic Gardens.

‘It’s my
first
favourite place to go in the hills.’ He smiles at me in the darkness.

‘What, even better than the giant rocking horse?’ I attempt to sound mocking.

‘I think it even beats the Lobethal lights.’

‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

He chuckles and brings his foot up onto the bench, wrapping his arms around his knee. ‘So you’re starting to like Australia.’ It almost isn’t a question, but I answer it anyway.

‘I am.’ Largely thanks to the present company, I manage to refrain from adding.

‘I’m happy for you.’

It seems like a slightly strange thing to say.

‘Do you reckon your mum is really into Michael?’ he asks after a while.

‘Definitely,’ I reply. ‘But she was into all the others, too, so who knows what’s going to happen.’
And
I saw her flirting with the butcher the other day.

‘I hope for your sake it works out.’

‘I only have to get through two years and then I can do what I like anyway.’

‘Two years?’

‘Yeah. Then I’ll be eighteen.’

He stares across at me, and even in the dark I can see the seriousness in his expression. ‘You seem so much older than you are.’

‘Everyone says that,’ I reply nervously.

‘It’s true.’ He sighs. ‘You’ve got your whole life laid out in front of you.’

‘So do you, Mr Melodramatic.’ I’m trying to lighten him up because his sombre mood is freaking me out a bit. I want to ask him what’s wrong, what’s
really
wrong, because something is and I so want him to open up to me. ‘Have you heard from your mum recently?’ I prompt.

‘Nope,’ he replies sardonically. ‘If I’m lucky I’ll get a Christmas card in March.’

‘Do you miss your nan?’

‘All the time.’

‘I expect you would, when you’re living in her house. You must see her everywhere.’ He scratches his head. I hope I’m not annoying him. ‘You wouldn’t ever think of selling it?’ I add.

‘Definitely not.’ His tone is resolute and I’m almost sorry I asked.

I change the subject. ‘Are you working on Saturday?’

‘Just in the morning. You know I’m coming to your place for Christmas lunch?’

‘
Are
you?’ My voice rises an octave.

‘Yeah. Michael asked me the other day.’

I suppose he doesn’t have any family here. And then it hits me. He clearly doesn’t have a girlfriend, either. I cast my eyes heavenward. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

He looks down at his watch. ‘I’d better get you home before Michael thinks I’ve kidnapped you.’

I wish
. . .

Michael himself opens the front door as I pull up. Ben’s car is parked on the road outside the house, but he follows me up the footpath to chat to Michael.

‘What time do you want me on Saturday?’ Ben asks.

‘One-thirty or thereabouts?’ Michael suggests.

‘Cool,’ Ben replies.

‘Your mum has saved you some dinner,’ Michael says to me. ‘It’s in the oven. Go and say hi to her, won’t you, love. She’s in the living room.’

‘Okay.’ I drag my heels reluctantly. ‘Thanks, Ben. See you tomorrow.’

‘No worries,’ he replies, as I turn and walk down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen.

‘Thanks for doing that for her, mate,’ I hear Michael say in a quiet voice.

‘No problem,’ Ben replies. ‘She’s a good student.’

Nausea sweeps through me. Are all these driving lessons just a favour for Michael?

‘We’ll have to pay you next time.’ I hear Michael chuckle, but don’t wait to hear Ben’s reply before hurrying into the kitchen and closing the door.

Josh is getting himself a drink out of the fridge. ‘Going out to Stirling tomorrow night. Christmas Eve. Usually pretty lively,’ he remarks casually. ‘Wanna come?’

‘Why not,’ I reply, feeling dead inside. I don’t even bother to ask if Lou will be joining us.