The Alphabet Sisters (42 page)

“He won’t mind; I know he won’t,” Carrie had said as she opened one of the oldest bottles of Shiraz. “Anyway, it’s not as if he can sack us, is it?”

Another time, after that much wine, Bett might have woken with a headache, a sense of the dreads. But not this morning. There was nothing to cringe about. She didn’t feel that she had said anything stupid, or talked too much. She could remember every word, every joke, every laugh they had shared, even though it had been nearly two
A.M
. by the time they went to bed, practically pouring a giggling Carrie into the taxi they had called.

Bett stretched, enjoying the feeling in her muscles, the look of the sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains, the sound of the birds outside. She had a glorious, light feeling inside her, that things were going to be okay again. That things were okay with Anna and Carrie again. She hadn’t felt so good in years.

She checked the time. Eight o’clock. She’d better get up and get ready. She had two more assignments with Daniel that day, and they’d arranged to meet at the office at nine-thirty.

There had been more teasing about him from Anna and Carrie the night before.

“You must have noticed something, Bett,” Anna had insisted.

“Picked up the
vibes
from him,” Carrie had added, in a bad American accent.

“You’re reading too much into it,” Bett protested. “We just get on really well. It’s nothing more than that.”

“No?”

“No. Stop it, you two.”

“You really, genuinely, sincerely don’t have any romantic feelings toward him?”

“No, I don’t,” she said, fighting a little voice in her head that was suggesting something quite different.

“Then let me ask you a few simple questions.” Anna winked over at Carrie. The two of them were really enjoying this. “Does Daniel make you laugh?”

“Yes. A lot.”

Anna was ticking them off on her fingers. “Do you think he’s good-looking?”

“Yes.”

“Aha!” Carrie said. “The giveaway.”

“I’m just stating a fact,” Bett said quickly. “He is.”

“In what way is he good-looking?”

Bett took a sip of wine and thought about it. “He’s got gorgeous eyes, all kind of crinkly, and that lovely sort of dark shaggy hair, and he wears great clothes, I reckon.” She stopped. “What? What are you both laughing at?”

“Nothing,” Anna said, quite straight-faced. “So you’ve noticed all these things about him. You admit that you get on really well. He doesn’t take his eyes off you. But you still don’t think anything’s going on between you?”

“It’s not.”

Anna turned to Carrie. “It’s sweet that she’s managed to keep her innocence for so long, Carrie, don’t you think?”

“Remarkable really, in this day and age.”

“Stop it, you two. Leave me alone.” Bett had been laughing, too, by this stage. She was also thanking her lucky stars that she had stopped herself just in time from telling them all about her one-night stand with Daniel. God only knows what they would have made of that.… 

She hadn’t minded the teasing one bit, though. It had been good fun. Not like old times all over again, either. Much better than that. It had been the start of new times between them.

Getting ready that morning, she chose her favorite darkgreen shirt, her favorite vintage skirt, and the Italian shoes that people always remarked on. She applied a bit of mascara. And while she was at it, she popped on a bit of lip gloss, too. She was going to be out and about doing these two interviews, so she may as well look presentable, she told herself.

“You look smart, Bett,” her father said as she walked into the kitchen for a coffee. “Have you got something special on today?”

“No. Just doing a couple of stories for that tourism project.”

“With Daniel?” Lola piped up from her chair.

“Yes, actually.”

“Marvelous!” Lola beamed.

L
ola didn’t have to have looked quite so delighted, Bett thought as she walked into the newspaper office a half hour later. Her grandmother’s face had lit up as if Bett had said she was heading off to elope to Gretna Green. What had got into everybody suddenly? She and Daniel were becoming good friends, that’s all. Men and women could be friends, couldn’t they? She and Daniel just got on well. They worked well together. They made each other laugh. Quite a bit, in fact. And yes, perhaps they’d had a night of pretty terrific sex three years before, but that was in the past. All it meant was … She stopped there. All it meant was if they were to have sex again, it would probably be just as great.

“Morning, Bett. Ready to get going again?”

It was Daniel.

The color whooshed into her face.

S
he was a little awkward with him to begin with, she knew she was. As they spent the morning at an art gallery tucked away in the hills south of Clare, she was more businesslike than she’d been on any of the previous assignments. Brisk even. She noticed him glance at her once or twice.

“Everything okay with you, Bett?”

“Fine,” she said cheerily, cursing Anna and Carrie for putting the idea into her head.

After the art gallery their next stop was Sevenhill Cellars, the Valley’s oldest winery.

“We’ve a few minutes before they’re expecting us,” Daniel said, glancing at his watch. “Do you mind if we take the scenic route? The light’s good today for a shot I want to take over the hills.”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

Daniel smiled his thanks and then turned the car off the main road onto the bumpy dirt road.

Her reply echoed in her mind as she watched him stop and start the car at different spots along the road, choosing scenes where the sunlight filtered through clumps of gum trees, sending dappled light onto the rows of vines, or near the dry creek beds, lined with water-smoothed pebbles of different shapes and sizes. No, she didn’t mind at all if she got to sit on the bonnet of the car in the sunshine and watch him at work. She didn’t mind at all seeing him concentrate on finding the best picture, walking along the road looking for the right angle, sending her a grin when he took a shot he was happy with. She didn’t mind at all if they got to spend a bit more time in the car together. She didn’t mind, in fact, if they spent the rest of the day in the car together, talking and laughing.

The realization came on slowly and surely throughout the day. She found herself watching him more closely, being more conscious of him than she ever had been before. She was acutely aware of him walking close behind her as they were taken on a tour of the cool stone winery building, breathing in the rich smells of the wooden barrels of wine around them. As she interviewed the winemaker and spoke to the people at the cellar door, she knew Daniel was nearby. She watched him deftly take the cameras out of the bag, check settings, and switch lenses. She noticed the casual, assured way he put light meters into his pockets, the way his body moved so lithely as he walked around, looking for good angles, trying for unusual shots. She noticed his manner with the people he was photographing, how quickly he put them at ease.

They drove back into Clare in the early afternoon. The sight of his lean, brown hands on the steering wheel was beginning to have quite an effect on her. The way he tapped his long fingers gently in time to the music on the radio. The way he changed the gears so skillfully. She dragged her eyes away from his hands, then found herself noticing his thighs instead, how good they looked in the jeans he was wearing. As they stopped at an intersection, he pushed back the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt to check the time. She noticed every detail in an instant. The brown skin of his arm, the golden hairs, the muscles. She nearly leaped out of her seat when he reached over suddenly to catch a brochure that kept sliding back and forth along the dashboard.

He sent her a puzzled look. “Bett, are you sure you’re okay today? You seem a bit distracted. Jumpy.”

“Do I? Am I? Sorry. I must be coming down with something.”

They started talking about the work they’d done that morning, and then the dress rehearsal for the musical. He casually referred to the fact that Matthew had been there and they were all getting on just fine, and she just as casually remarked that it was good to see Carrie and Matthew so happy together.

“I’ll be able to die a happy man now, too. I actually got to see the Alphabet Sisters perform.”

She pulled a face. “I did warn you. We weren’t exactly The Supremes.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just wish I’d seen you in your heyday. When you were really at the height of your powers.”

“Count your blessings that you didn’t.”

He was laughing as he pulled into a shady spot in the main street, a hundred meters or so down from the
Valley Times
office. “So did you have a triumphant last performance? The audience in tears, waving cigarette lighters at the three of you?”

“Not quite.” She hesitated for only a second. “It was awful actually. Three boys shouted Piggy in the Middle at me when we were onstage one day, and it ruined it for me from then on.”

“They called you Piggy in the Middle?”

She nodded.

“How ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” She didn’t understand.

“Well, Pretty Girl in the Middle I could understand.”

She went still.

“Or Bright-eyed Girl in the Middle.”

She held her breath.

“Or Great Fun to Be With in the Middle.”

She was smiling now.

“But Piggy? No. They were three blind boys, obviously,” he said, very matter-of-fact. “Three blind stupid boys. Three blind stupid boys who wouldn’t know a world-class singer and performer if she came up and—” he foundered for a moment.

“Grunted in their faces?” she helped him.

He grinned. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of yodeled.”

L
ater that day Rebecca called her into her office. “Everything go well today?”

“It did, thanks. Just the Drover’s Experience story to go next week and that tourism project is all done.”

“You and Daniel getting along okay?”

“Yes, thanks.” She couldn’t read the expression on Rebecca’s face. “I have been going easy on him, I promise. Like you asked me to.” She was still puzzled by what Rebecca had meant by that. Daniel hadn’t let on that anything was wrong at all.

Rebecca was trying not to smile. “I know. I suppose I was wondering what your definition of going easy on him might be.”

“Why?”

“It’s just I had two calls today from people wondering why my reporter and my photographer were sitting in the company car in the main street for nearly an hour talking and laughing their heads off. Was it a stakeout? they wondered. Were we on to a hot story?”

Bett gave a strange-sounding laugh. “God, this town. They just make up gossip if they can’t find any, don’t they?”

“Do they?” Rebecca smiled mischievously. “You tell me. You’ve lived here longer than I have.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

O
pening night arrived. The last tickets had been sold that morning. It was a full house.

Lola had pulled out all the stops, raiding not just her own wardrobe, but Carrie’s, Anna’s, and Bett’s as well. It had taken everyone some discipline not to gasp or laugh too loudly when she first stepped out of her room, ready to be driven to the town hall by Jim. After seeing her, Geraldine had decided to drive down a little later.

Lola now stood, dressed in full splendor, at the front door of the town hall. Her floor-length orange taffeta skirt clashed with the purple tunic, which clashed with the gold wrap. It all clashed with her makeup. She had a rose and a fabric butterfly pinned in her hair, and nearly rattled as she walked from all the jewelry. Beside her, in a much more low-key outfit but just as bright a smile, was Ellen. She’d been put in charge of handing out programs as people came in.

Lola was shining, accepting compliments and handing them out just as enthusiastically. “Mrs. Gillespie, you look marvelous.” “Yes, I am as proud as punch. It’s a wonderful night for all of us.”

Ellen greeted everyone who passed her with the same message. “Good evening. Enjoy the show, won’t you?”

Backstage, Anna was moving back and forth, checking on costumes, makeup, and sets. She was glad and relieved to feel the adrenaline coursing through her, giving her the energy and buzz she had always loved before a performance. She’d had a very bad night’s sleep, tired but unable to sleep, feeling the tightness across her chest again. Perhaps that scan the young doctor had mentioned was a good thing, she’d thought as she lay there in the dark, thinking the worst. She’d confided in Richard, and been comforted by his matter-of-factness.

“It’s probably asthma, by the sound of things. But the doctor’s right. You’re just as well to get it checked out. When is the test?”

In Adelaide, two days after the musical, she’d told him. She was going to return the costumes at the same time. She’d been surprised by his next words.

“Would you like me to come with you? I can help you carry things, wait while you do the tests, and then take you somewhere really splendid for lunch. To celebrate the musical. And to celebrate you and—” he had stopped there. “Well, just to celebrate.”

She had been very touched. “I’d love that,” she’d said.

“Anna! Anna!” She turned as Len ran in, a panicked expression on his face. “One of the wheels of the train has jammed. Has anyone got any oil?”

Anna swiftly produced a bottle from a basket by the window. She’d brought oil, nails, sticking plasters, double-sided tape, needle and thread, ready for any eventuality. There was even an industrial-size upholstery stapler that Lola had produced from somewhere.

“Deep breath, now, Len. Everything’s all right. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Damn right it is,” he said loudly, cheery again. “Thanks, Anna. Break a leg, everyone.”

At the edge of the room, leafing through her music for the tenth time, Bett overheard and grinned. Probably not the best thing for Len to say, even if it was a theatrical tradition. Knowing his ability to create chaos, the entire cast breaking a leg each was entirely possible. She was loving this part of the evening, all the excitement before the show began. Carrie was beside the mirror, applying makeup to all the cast members, who were lined up in a row like laughing clowns at a fair. Lola’s ladies from the charity shop were making last-minute adjustments to the costumes. In the middle of it all was Anna, calm, in control. As Bett caught her eye, Anna smiled then mouthed something.