Chapter Twenty-five
On the day Abel was due back from his retrieval locum in Victoria, I did my first practice exam and passed with a score of ninety-two per cent.
I was ecstatic. I could taste the sweet victory of getting through the real thing and imagine a life where I got paid properly, could choose where I wanted to work and live, and didn’t need to do night shifts.
‘It’s good to see you,’ Abel said when he arrived, placing his phone and keys on the breakfast bar, keeping a healthy distance while I washed my hands at the sink.
‘It’s good to see you too.’ I wiped my hands on my jeans and leant against the bench. I’d hoped that not seeing Abel for a few weeks would settle my swooning heart, but unfortunately, the sight of him was enough to make my insides drop like I was headed down a rollercoaster.
His eyes landed on the bright yellow daffodil on the kitchen table. He stared at it for a moment and then looked at me. ‘This place feels good with you here.’
His eyes stayed on me and I felt my skin tingle under the intensity of it.
‘I love daffodils,’ I said with a shrug. ‘I’m cooking dinner. Would you like some?’
‘Thanks.’
After he’d unpacked and showered, we finished preparing the meal together. The conversation was easier than I’d expected. And when I told him about the mock exam, he looked so genuinely pleased for me it was all I could do not to suggest we hug about it.
‘It’s kind of hard to believe I might actually get through this,’ I said.
‘You’ll be a boss in no time. Watch out, whichever department you end up in.’
He tapped his wine glass to mine and I held his gaze as we sipped, but something in my chest faltered, undermining my excitement. I was more than halfway through my time in Hobart; I’d be done here in under three months and then I really could work wherever I wanted to.
Which meant going home.
It was the first time the thought hadn’t filled me with anything but pure relief. The first time something pulled me in a different direction. Maybe it was the gardening, entangling me in the Hobart soil.
‘And you’ll go back to New South Wales, I guess?’ He had moved from the kitchen to set the plates out and I couldn’t see his expression.
‘That’s the plan.’
He didn’t say anything more. I wished I could ask him how he felt about me leaving, but it would be a needy type of question and, anyway, I knew the answer: he would be indifferent at best and, realistically, probably downright relieved to have his place back, relieved that no one would be waiting up for his return from hot dates with Alannah.
They’d cook meals together. And sit on the couch together. He’d draw her naked and afterwards …
‘Well,’ he said, interrupting my thoughts. ‘We should get you seeing a bit of Tasmania before you leave.’ He was smiling, but it didn’t completely reach his eyes.
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yeah. Let me take you some places. You’ve got the content nailed. Have some days off to clear your head.’
‘And where would we go?’
He shrugged. ‘I could show you some walks on the mountain. Take you to the peninsula. Or Bruny Island. Whatever you’re up for, really. Show you some of Tasmania’s treasures before you take off.’
I looked at him incredulously. ‘There’s no obligation for you to be my tour guide. You’ve done enough for me already.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘You really have me pinned for some selfless nice guy, don’t you?’
‘Aren’t you?’ That petulant tone was back, exposing my mistrust in anyone genuinely wanting to spend time with me. There must be another reason. In Abel’s case, the fact that he was an impossibly nice person.
As though reading my thoughts, he caught my eye as I put the salt and pepper on the table.
‘Maybe, Mary, maybe I actually want to show you around. Maybe I like spending time with you. Is that too crazy to believe?’
I busied myself with another trip to the kitchen. My back was turned as I pulled a fork through the rice, fluffing it unnecessarily. I never fluffed rice. ‘And Alannah? That wouldn’t be weird for her?’
‘Alannah?’ He sounded confused.
Did I have to spell it out? This was getting more uncomfortable by the second. ‘The girl you’re …?’
‘Oh. That’s – we – no. It never went anywhere.’
I felt the tension unclasp around my chest like a vice being released. ‘So, you’re not …?’
‘No.’
He was beside me now, while I stirred the steaming rice.
‘I thought you said she was great.’ Fluff, fluff.
I could see him shrug out of my peripheral vision. ‘She was. She is.’
‘Felix said she’s a nurse?’
‘What—? Felix? Hang on. What did he say?’
‘He said that you were dating a nurse. And that she was very cute.’ That immaturity was back.
‘That fucker!’ Abel exclaimed with an exasperated grunt.
‘There is no way he would even know Alannah. Or that our catching up was remotely worthy of gossip. He’s making shit up to fuck with you, Mary.
Alannah isn’t a nurse. I wouldn’t go out with someone from work.
She’s a biologist. Friend of a friend. Nice girl, but my heart wasn’t in it.
We had two very pleasant and uneventful evenings. ’
I still couldn’t meet his eye. ‘Oh. So, you’re not seeing anybody.’
‘No. You need to ignore every word that arsehole says.’
‘But you were hoping to be seeing someone?’ I blamed the wine for all the stupid stuff rolling out my mouth.
He sighed and then turned me by the shoulders to face him. I couldn’t avoid eye contact anymore.
‘You know what, Mary? It would be a hell of a lot easier if I was seeing someone. Anyway. Can we stop talking about Alannah? And Felix? You’ve smashed your practice exam.
Let’s celebrate that. And before you leave and I never get to see you again, let me show you a few of my favourite places here. That’s all I want. Okay?’
I let myself sink properly into those emerald eyes. Those kind and caring emerald eyes. My heart pulled at the thought of leaving him. Of leaving all of this.
‘Okay.’
What else could I say?
‘Hi Mum?’
I was in the passenger seat of Abel’s car on the way to our first Tour of Tasmania outing.
If Mum called, it meant she wasn’t in a depressive episode, but it was also unusual, so it could represent an elevated period.
And given the latest developments with Greg and the art stuff, I was immediately filled with apprehension.
There were subconscious clues everywhere in my interactions with my mother.
Nothing passed that didn’t register a message in some form.
‘Hi sweetie! How are you?’
Mum’s voice was full of excitement and my unease mounted. I sensed Abel’s gaze land on me briefly before returning to the road.
She asked me about work and Hobart, and I felt increasingly suspicious. I’d been trying to ask Ebony about how Mum was going but my sister had snapped on several occasions and I’d felt guilty for making her the messenger. ‘She’s fine. Enjoy it when it’s good’ was Ebony’s approach to it all.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that things were headed in a fragile direction and the way Mum was talking right now only worsened that feeling.
‘Anyway, I wanted to let you know Greg and I are going on holiday! So, I’ll be offline for eight days!’
Mum paused for effect and my heart sank. Mum didn’t have money to spend on spontaneous holidays.
‘Right,’ I said, hoping this might represent a camping trip or something else extremely low budget.
‘We’re booked into an artist retreat in the Blue Mountains! All-inclusive eight days in a wellness resort where we need to do nothing but paint all day!’
‘Oh, wow, uh …’ I scrambled for words but she was barrelling on.
‘I should have done something like this years ago! The perfect holiday to relax and unwind. It could be so good for me, don’t you think? Greg just said we should do it – and so we are!’
‘This sounds like a very expensive holiday, Mum …’
But she gushed away and I could tell there was little I could do to change things now. She talked about how she’d wondered about the money and how Greg is just so carefree and spontaneous and shouldn’t she be more like that?
Something caught in my gut. ‘Who’s paying for this?’ I said quietly, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice, angling my body to the window in a poor attempt at privacy. This was not the sort of conversation I wanted to have in front of company.
Abel indicated to move off the highway and slowed into a wide section of gravel beside the road. I felt a rush of gratitude to him.
‘Thank you,’ I mouthed as we came to a stop. I stepped out of the car.
‘Hmm?’
I could hear her moving about the house, clattering around. I could just picture the whirlwind of energy she was right now.
‘The trip. Who’s paying for it?’ I couldn’t keep the urgency out of my voice.
‘Oh. We’ll pay for it together. Greg’s about to get paid, but I had savings ready to go so … you know. Anyway! I’ve got to get the house all sorted and decide what to bring but I just wanted to call and tell you the news in case you’re trying to get hold of me!’
My further attempts to dissect the situation failed miserably. Mum carried on in full vivacious mode until she needed to end the call in a hurry and I was left feeling as though I’d just walked through a cyclone.
My heart was racing, my anxiety rattling through me. Greg was bad news and I was so far away there was little I could do about it. I tried to call Ebony, but she didn’t answer.
I sent a text asking her to call me. I sent another to Mum.
Please be careful with your finances, Mum. This all seems very sudden.
A heart response came almost immediately, which told me absolutely fuck-all about how my message had been received.
I felt so utterly powerless and far away and had the sense I was the only one who could see the train wreck that lay ahead.
I leant against the car and tried to steady my breathing. It was a sunny day, cold and bright, and I turned my face to catch the warmth.