Someone Like You (40 page)

Could he let her do that?

Lizzie woke to an empty bed and an empty house. Dan’s note, slipped into a clean and empty coffee cup he’d left on the kitchen counter, said simply:

Be back soon
.

She let it flutter to the kitchen bench, pulled Dan’s dinner shirt tighter around her middle. She stared out his front windows to the roadway and the beach beyond. Cars were already parked and unloaded, their drivers and their contents spilled onto the sand for another summer’s day in paradise.

Another day. She looked around Dan’s house, listened to the sound of nothing. It felt empty without him, without his voice and his body and the look in his eyes that he tossed her way and that sent her knees buckling. She didn’t need to think too much about where he’d gone. She knew he’d be back because that’s the kind of man he was. But what would he say when he returned?

Had her secret scared him off? And as she wondered about that, searched deeper, she had to ask herself if she’d wanted it to. If she was being honest, part of her was relieved he wasn’t there. It would have meant having the conversation. About what came next. About where they went from here, if anywhere.

What did she want? Really, really want? Saying it out loud, really wanting it, would mean the disappointment would be so more crushing when it didn’t happen. Since she’d come back from London, she hadn’t dared wish for anything.

Until The Market. She’d let herself imagine something there and had helped it come to life. Could she apply that same strategy to Dan? If she imagined a life with him, could she help it come to life?

Perhaps it was time for Operation Lizzie, time to start plotting the story of the rest of her life. Up until now, she’d let it happen to her, let it run on the ‘shit happens’ principle. Maybe now it was time to create that life for herself.

Lizzie rubbed her eyes, suddenly energised. She found her dress, slipped it on. Looped the straps of her sandals around an index finger and closed the door behind her as she left.

Lizzie stood in her kitchen, arms crossed, wishing the kettle would bloody well hurry up and boil. This was going to be the first day of the rest of her life. If she’d ever needed caffeine, it was now. Right now.

What she didn’t need was a smirking big brother, especially one who was staring at her with suspicious eyes, noticeably taking in her crumpled blue bridesmaid’s dress.

‘Morning, Lizzie.’ He bumped her aside with his hip and grabbed some juice from the fridge. He reached up to a high shelf for a glass and filled it. Drank it in one swallow. Filled it again. Placed it carefully on the counter.

‘Joe.’

‘Great night last night, huh?’

‘Yeah, it was. Did you have a good time?’

He smiled, and she saw something in his eyes. Something self-satisfied and macho. ‘I did, as a matter of fact. And you know what? You were right. I did need some no-strings-attached dancing. It’s done me the world of good.’ Joe stretched his arms high, almost meeting the ceiling, and then fisted his chest like King Kong. ‘Man, I’m feeling fantastic this morning.’

What had got into him? Lizzie wondered. She reached over, patted him on the shoulder. ‘Excellent news.’

‘And what about you, Mosquito? Enjoyable night?’ His curious eyes ran up and down yesterday’s dress.

‘I’m not telling you anything.’

‘Not even about the way you ran off with—’

‘I said no questions. I’m not in the mood for a press conference today, okay?’ She didn’t know where the edge in her voice had come from, but it was there. And she suddenly felt on edge. She was feeling nervous about Operation Lizzie all of a sudden. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was thinking about Dan and The Talk.

Joe held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘No questions from me. Can’t think of a single one.’

‘Good.’

Joe gave her one of those looks like he knew what she was thinking. ‘You all right? You don’t look all right.’

‘I mean it, Stinkface. Absolutely, definitely no fucking comment. Damn the stupid kettle.’ She twisted off the flame with vicious intent. ‘I just need to get some sleep.’

Then Joe stepped in front of her with the urgency of a traffic cop and grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘I say this out of total love and respect for you, but you look like hell. And you have panda eyes. Why don’t you jump in the shower first?’

That sounded like a plan. She managed a smile. ‘Good idea. You do have them occasionally, you know. And hey,’ she turned to him. ‘Thanks for looking out for me. I do appreciate it.’

Lizzie took a step closer and reached up, planted a big kiss on his cheek and threw her arms around his neck for a big brother-sister hug. Which was when she smelt perfume. Not aftershave. Not cologne. But perfume. Something exotic and feminine.

She dropped her arms and felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
No strings attached dancing. Excellent
.

Dan thumped the steering wheel, and swore loud enough to be heard above the music blaring in the cabin of his four-wheel drive. He was stuck an hour away from Middle Point on the main highway heading south out of the city. A highway? That was a lie. It was more like a fucking car park in the traffic. He didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be eighty kilometres further south with the afternoon sun on his face, where the only queue was at the local bakery.

He looked around impatiently, in front to check again if the traffic was moving, and then in his rear-view mirror to judge how long the queue behind him was. When he glanced down into the sedan in the next lane, he softened. A small girl, a little blondie secured safely in her car seat, had her tiny fingers pressed up against the glass and was looking right up at him with a shy smile and big blue eyes.

A blondie.

Damn, that kid was cute. And she could have been Lizzie thirty years ago. He let all his tension out in a big exhale and grinned just thinking about her.

He checked his watch. It was five in the afternoon. It wouldn’t be long before he’d see her. He’d been caught up in the city all day, putting the elements of his plan together. He’d left early that morning, before Lizzie stirred, fired up and wanting to get this final piece of the plan in place.

He was ready to make a change in his life. He was done with the nightclubs and partying and women. Had the accident forced the change? Hell, he didn’t know. Didn’t care to analyse why. But to his enormous surprise, the sleepy beachside town of Middle Point was home now. He didn’t want to go anywhere else. Maybe he’d ask Joe to teach him how to surf. Could he do that at his age? Thirty-five wasn’t too old. Would his leg hold up? Maybe. He hadn’t been feeling it lately and that was a good sign. Every month away from the accident was a month of feeling physically better. And what about the other part of him?

A glance over his shoulder into the back seat revealed his special cargo was still safely packed away and he let himself smile about it.

He wondered what Lizzie would think about his plan. The angry sound of a car horn, and the raised middle finger in his rear-view mirror, cut off that thought and he realised he’d missed the green light.

As he took off, every car length taking him that much closer to home, he laughed and gave the guy behind him a wave.

‘Chill, man. You need to do something about your stress.’ Then he grinned like a maniac. ‘Like move to Middle Point.’

Lizzie had scored Sunday off, since it was the day after the Big Wedding, and she needed every bit of it to recover. Amazing what a wedding and sex could do to you. It may have been a brilliant summer’s day outside, with a gentle breeze and a temperature in the low thirties, but she needed to veg out.

After a long and luxurious shower in the morning, she’d thrown on a tank top and some shorts, ferreted out some of her favourite movies, and settled in for a day of no-guilt-involved slacking off. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent the whole day with nothing to do, no one to help, or nothing to think about.

Who was she kidding? There was plenty to think about. Dan, in particular. His note had said ‘soon’. It certainly hadn’t been a ‘pop down the shops’ soon, or even ‘a couple of hours’ soon. She hadn’t heard from him all day, not since the note.

Lizzie shook her head, trying not to over-think it. Maybe it was a root canal appointment that he simply couldn’t miss. She couldn’t think too much about his absence or its mystery.

Had he meant it the night before when he’d said he was ready to fill his life with things that made him happy? Did she really believe his words when he said he wanted to fill his life with her?

Lizzie refluffed her cushions and settled back down into a more comfortable position. What would that look like? Being happy with Dan? Was it marriage, babies, the white picket fence? Or was it something else, something tentative and slow? Something that didn’t need to be rushed. Julia had seemed ready for the whole marriage kit and caboodle and look at her. Was that what Lizzie wanted too?

Images of the Notting Hill markets flickered before her on the TV screen, filled with flowers and vintage T-shirts and then umbrellas and snow. How crazy was it that she’d never been there when she lived in London? Once she’d got a job and met Billy, she’d never strayed far from her neighbourhood south of the Thames. Had she really been that adventurous, after all? There were lots of things she’d never got to see or do in London before she’d come home. Most of her knowledge of that city had come from movies. Looking back, she realised how much she’d missed.

The sound of a car engine motoring to a stop had Lizzie pricking up her ears. Looking through the big glass windows at the front of the house, she could just make out a big four-wheel drive.

It wasn’t Dan.

Joe ambled inside, a bulging shopping bag in one hand, a six-pack of beer in the other. ‘Hey Mosquito. Thought I’d throw some stuff on the barbie tonight. You up for a snag or two?’ He plonked the load onto the kitchen bench and began pulling out meat, fresh vegies and a loaf of crusty bread.

Lizzie paused her movie and propped herself up to watch the spectacle. Since he’d been back in Middle Point, she’d barely seen Joe eat anything other than tins of tuna and two-minute noodles. He’d resumed the eating habits of his teenage self. Seeing actual food in his hands puzzled her.

‘Sure, a barbie sounds great. Just the two of us?’ Lizzie eyed him suspiciously.

He nodded. ‘I figure I owe you. I’ve crashed here, invaded your space, been a total misery guts. And although I’ve been forced to sit through more romantic comedies than I’ve seen in my entire life, it’s actually been better than I thought, being back here.’

Lizzie almost swallowed her tongue.

‘Hold the phone. You mean the North Shore whore didn’t watch rom-coms?’

‘Nah.’

‘How can you not like rom-coms? What movies did she watch?’

‘
Wolf Creek
.
Saw
. That kind of thing.’ Joe grinned at her.

‘That explains a lot.’ Lizzie hopped up from the sofa and joined Joe in the kitchen, grabbing herself a glass of juice.

‘What time’s dinner?’ Lizzie’s stomach rumbled just looking at the ripe tomatoes, the freshly picked spinach leaves and local fetta cheese. ‘Want me to do anything?’

Joe grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around to face him. ‘No, nothing. Go. Get out of here. Whipping up this culinary sensation will take me about half an hour. Why don’t you take a walk? Dinner will be ready by six-thirty.’

‘You sure?’

‘Get out of my hair, Mosquito. Twenty years later and you’re still buzzing around me.’

She chuckled. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Stinkface. It’s not you, it’s the food.’

Dan didn’t bother to knock; simply pushed open the door he knew would be unlocked and barged right into Lizzie’s house. He found himself in the middle of the living room with the snooty accent of Hugh Grant filling the room.

‘Lizzie? You here?’

‘Hey Dan…Oh shit.’ Joe raced over from the kitchen and scrabbled around on the sofa for the remote control. The room became silent. ‘Lizzie left the movie on. I wasn’t watching it, you got that?’

‘No, of course not.’ Dan smirked.

‘And if you tell anyone, I’ll have your guts for garters.’ Joe returned to the kitchen.

‘Funny, I would have picked you as more of a James Bond fan.’

‘Yeah, shut the fuck up okay?’ Joe laughed and picked up the large blade he’d been using and waved it around like a miniature samurai sword. ‘I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it. You looking for Lizzie?’

‘No, I raced back from Adelaide to see your ugly mug. What do you reckon?’

‘I kicked her out for a walk while I get the barbie going.’ Joe regarded him and Dan knew he was doing the big brother checking him out thing. ‘You want to stay and eat with us?’

Dan gripped the white envelope in his hand. ‘No. Yeah. Look, I’m not sure. You said Lizzie’s gone for a walk? The beach?’

‘Where else?’

The early evening sun shone upwards into the puffs of streaky white clouds, which were hanging low and full along the coastline in the west. The brilliance of the blue, blue sky made Lizzie stop, dig her toes into the cool sand, and stare upwards. How was it possible, she wondered as she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the glare, that she could still be stunned into silence by that sky? Hadn’t she looked at it every day for almost her entire existence? How was it that it could come to life in a different way every time?