Just Breathe (2 page)

The garden was in almost total darkness, lit only by light that spilled over the balcony. Dee looked up at the veranda and tried to imagine the trajectory they’d taken.

‘I think one hit the pool fence.’ Ethan Roxburgh’s voice hung in the air.

It took a moment to find him in the shadows, standing at the top of some stairs that led to a pool enclosure. ‘Down here,’ he said and led the way.

When she reached the pool, he’d found the shoe and was holding it out to her on his palm.

‘Thanks.’

‘Sorry about that comment before, you know, about the yoga teacher.’ His words sounded overly loud in the quiet garden. ‘The alternative type will be great for the ad but it’s just not my thing.’

She winced, hoping he didn’t see it in the dark. ‘Hey, no problem. Running million-dollar corporations isn’t my thing either.’ He appeared a tad surprised as she turned and headed back up the steps.

‘I found the other one in the roses,’ he said from behind. The shoe was now perched on top of the BBQ, like Cinderella’s glass slipper on display.

She cocked her head at him. ‘You came out to look for them?’

‘Actually, I came out to look at the view and got wondering where they went.’

‘Oh.’ Unexpected.

They stood a moment. An awkward run-out-of-conversation, not-sure-where-this-is-going moment. He seemed more fun than the way-too-professional guy in the newspaper. But then there was his
that kind of thing
comment and her vow never to take a second glance at a collar-and-tie guy again. Not to mention that Leon’s phone call had knocked her brain off its axis and the thought of more small talk was as appealing as learning Chinese with a mouthful of marbles.
She told herself she needed to go home, prepare herself for her mother’s Christmas Day assault, wrap the last two presents and try not to think about the apartment without Leon.

Besides, Ethan Roxburgh was probably dying to dash back inside to check out the Roxburgh Girl potential. There were only zebras and donkeys out here.

‘Well, I’m off now,’ Dee said. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘How are you getting home?’

‘I’ve got my car. Actually, my flatmate’s car.’ Now her ex-flatmate. ‘Mine doesn’t like hills. Or wet weather. Or the cold, really. Very temperamental.’

‘I’ll walk you down the drive then. It’s pretty uneven this side of the front door. Dangerous in the dark.’

‘Oh.’ Also unexpected.

Actually, Dee would have preferred to wander down the drive on her own, breathe in some cool night air, breathe out some more anxiety – but Ethan was already beside her, picking a way down the unlit path. At the end of the drive he kept walking, all the way to Leon’s car, fortunately leaving any more discussion about the ad campaign to Lucy. She just hoped he didn’t hang around to watch her drive off. Leon’s car was a monster and on this hill she’d have to rev the guts out of it to make sure it didn’t roll back too far.

She tossed Amanda’s shoes into the back seat. ‘‘Night,’ she called and climbed behind the steering column. Flicking on the lights, she saw a bemused smile on Ethan’s face as he waited at the kerb. She must look tiny in this heap of V8 grunt. The engine sounded hideously loud in the quiet street. She fumbled with the stick shift, wincing at the crunch of gears. Don’t think that’s right. First gear and reverse were so close on this damn thing. She tried again. That’s got to be first. She revved the engine, let out the clutch and shot backwards. Over the kerb, smack into a
telegraph pole.

Seconds later Ethan flung open the driver’s door. ‘Are you all right?’

She gripped the wheel like a vice. Breathe, Dee, breathe. She did a mental recon of her body. Legs, back, ribs, neck. No pain. Good. That was good. Breathe. She released a hand, found the thin line of scar in her widow’s peak, traced the contours of her face. No blood. Also good.

‘Dee?’

‘I’m okay. I think.’ She rolled her neck, opened her eyes and slapped her hands over her face. ‘Leon’s going to kill me.’

Ethan reached in and turned off the ignition. ‘What happened?’

‘I got the gears mixed up.’

‘Oka-ay.’

‘That can happen.’ Dee gingerly swung her legs out of the car and twisted her back one way then the other, making sure it really was all right. ‘I’m scared to look.’

‘Maybe it’s not too bad.’

‘Are you kidding? Did you hear it?’

‘Yeah, I know. I was just trying to be upbeat.’

They walked side by side to the rear of the car.

‘Oh crap,’ Dee said. ‘That’ll cost a fortune.’

And now she had her own early Christmas present.

Debt.

Dee sank her hands into sudsy dishwater, closed her eyes and repeated her Christmas Day mantra in her mind. ‘I will be cool and calm all day.’ She lifted her head, looked out the window at the heat shimmer coming off the outdoors pavers. ‘All day’ was starting to be a bit of a stretch.

Amanda deposited another stack of serving platters on the kitchen sink. ‘That’s it, I think.’

‘Thank God.’ Dee lifted a baking dish onto the draining rack. ‘Mum must hold the record for Christmas themed plates.’

Amanda took a dry tea-towel from a drawer and picked up a platter shaped like a pine tree. ‘Do you think she’s covered all your transgressions yet?’

‘Let’s see. So far I’m too thin, too muscly and too vegetarian. She hates my clothes and hair, I’m in the wrong job and I’m wasting my degree.’

The Christmas Day version of Dee’s mother was like a perfectionist on crack. Val wanted everything to be faultless: the gifts, the food, the conversation – and her daughters. There was no issue with Amanda. She was already the embodiment of her mother’s dreams – a master’s degree in business, highly paid job, two cars, handsome husband and two beautiful little girls.

Dee, on the other hand, had spent ten years disappointing her. She wondered if it would be any different if their father was still alive. Maybe then Val wouldn’t consider Dee’s choices a report card on her job as a single parent. It was just as well, really, that her stepfather Ken was happy to let Val organise his life or her mother might have more time to give her youngest child advice.

‘You haven’t got a boyfriend or given her a grandchild yet, bad girl.’ Amanda flicked her with the tea-towel.

Dee flipped a blob of suds at her and laughed even though, in the place where she stored the pain from the accident, it wasn’t funny at all. It hurt that her mother still railed against the life she’d chosen and refused to accept that all Dee needed was to be safe and live without pain.

‘And she hasn’t even touched on Leon moving out yet,’ Amanda said.

‘Yes, that’s weird. Perhaps I should brace myself.’

Dee was still in a spin over Leon’s news. She’d hoped to avoid a discussion about it with her mother until she could say more than, ‘I’ve no idea what the hell I’m going to do.’ But her mother had pressed and Dee had caved. She’d recovered with a clever, ‘But it’s an exciting new venture for both of us,’ and was surprised with an uncharacteristic lack of maternal opinion.

Dee knew there was no way the incident with Leon’s car would have the same result so she managed to keep her mouth shut about that. Besides, she’d re-lived the event over and over during the night, until the telegraph pole had morphed into the runaway truck that had haunted her for ten years. And Ethan Roxburgh opening the door had become the Jaws of Life that had cut her out of the other car. She didn’t need to go there again.

Amanda stacked the baking dish with the others on the counter. ‘Do you know anyone who might be interested in taking over Leon’s room?’

‘I’m not sure I want another flatmate,’ Dee said. ‘I thought I might look for a smaller place I can afford on my own.’

‘Are you going to move, Trudy?’ Dee and Amanda turned in unison as their mother bustled in with more dishes. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’

What was that? A moment of approval?

‘Your timing couldn’t be more perfect.’ Val pressed a finger to her chin in a gee-isn’t-that-a-coincidence pose. ‘The money from old Auntie May’s estate is coming through in a couple of
months and you girls will both be getting a quarter share. Old May was quite the hoarder, let me tell you. There’ll be enough for each of you to have a sizeable investment, and you know how Auntie May was so adamant about women having investments.’ She raised her eyebrows at them, nodding wisely. ‘So, as executor of the will, I plan to use Trudy’s share for a down payment on an apartment.’ She looked excitedly at Dee. ‘I’ll put it in your name so you can pay off the mortgage. Isn’t that wonderful?’

Dee was stunned. ‘Oh my God, an apartment? I didn’t know Auntie May had that kind of money.’ She’d never been left money before. Wasn’t sure how it worked. But a mortgage – that was a serious commitment to a future. She didn’t want another future. Living in the moment, making no plans was safer. ‘Does the will specify an apartment?’

Val’s smile wavered a little. ‘Well, no, it doesn’t specify. But Auntie May always said she’d like to see you in your own home.’

Dee frowned. Auntie May had had a stroke twelve years ago and had never spoken another word before she passed away. ‘She did?’

‘Oh, all the time.’

Amanda joined Dee in a frown.

‘In her own way, of course,’ Val added quickly. ‘Anyway, it’s such a wonderful opportunity for you. I’ve looked at the plans for that lovely complex being built down the road. They’re right in the price range and quite handy to your work and close to us here, so I’ll be able to help you out when you’re busy. Perfect, really.’

Not if Dee didn’t want Val living in her pocket. Not if she didn’t want a mortgage. ‘Where are you looking at an apartment for Amanda?’ Maybe they could trade.

Val glanced briefly at Amanda then picked up a pile of clean dishes, turning her back as
she restacked the shelves. ‘I’ve decided Amanda’s capable of making her own decision on that.’

Dee looked at her sister. Amanda gave a no-idea shrug.

‘I think I’m capable of choosing an apartment for myself too,’ Dee said.

‘Actually,’ Val said firmly, ‘I’ve decided to give Amanda her share of the money but I’ll be investing yours for you.’

The kitchen fell silent. Dee’s sudsy hands dripped on the floor. Val glared sternly at her. Amanda’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them.

Cool and calm had left the building. ‘You mean Amanda gets a lump sum and I get repayments?’

Val crossed her arms. ‘That’s right. It’s an excellent investment, Trudy. You should be grateful.’

‘Mum!’ Amanda was indignant on Dee’s behalf. ‘You can’t give her money then spend it for her. Besides, if Auntie May left her the money, she can do whatever she likes with it.’

Val raised her chin a fraction. ‘Auntie May actually left the money to me and specified that I decide how you girls should benefit from it. Obviously, she wanted someone responsible to make the difficult decisions. And thank goodness she did because it’s time someone did something about the state of your life, Trudy.’

Oh, here we go. Dee gritted her teeth. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my life.’

‘Wake up to yourself, Trudy,’ Val snapped with reproach. ‘It’s ludicrous that at thirty-one years of age, you’re still living the way you do. You rent a rundown flat, you’ve got a broken down car and you dress like you can’t afford to clothe yourself. When was the last time you had a decent hair cut? You’ve got no savings, no plans. You’re going
nowhere
.’

Dee put wet hands on her hips and looked her mother in the eye. ‘I don’t want to go
anywhere. I’m exactly where I need to be.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You need a better job and a better place to live. Yes, you had a bad car accident and your fiancé didn’t want to marry a cripple. But you’re not crippled any more so it’s time you stopped using that as an excuse to do nothing about yourself.’

The words hit like a blow to the chest. ‘Jesus, Mum.’ She faced the sink, dumping a Christmas themed plate into the water so hard suds spilled over the side and wet her feet.

‘Don’t “Jesus Mum” me. You’ve left me no choice. You can’t be trusted with a large sum of money. It should be invested, not blown on overseas holidays like your insurance payout. And since you won’t do anything about it yourself, I’ll have to do it for you.’

The view out the kitchen window blurred as Dee fought to hold back angry tears. She’d spent ten years putting herself back together, trying to get past the pain but it meant nothing to Val unless she had a credit card and nice hair. At thirty-one, it was ludicrous that she should have to do as her mother told her.

Dee ripped off her washing up gloves and faced her mother again.

Val’s arms were crossed, her lips pursed – clearly closed to anything her daughter had to say. Dee thought of explaining one more time why she went away after the crash, why she lived the way she did. But she realised that after ten years of trying, she had no idea how to make her mother understand.

‘How much money are we talking about anyway?’ Amanda asked.

Val whispered the amount with a mixture of reverence and secrecy.

‘Nice,’ Amanda said, raising eyebrows at Dee.

Dee’s jaw dropped. It was more than she could ever hope to save. That kind of money could dig her out of the hole she was in – pay for the repairs to Leon’s car, cover his half of the
bond plus the set-up fees for a new rental place, one she didn’t have to share – and that was for starters. But
buy
an apartment – or, more to the point, take on a mortgage – no way. ‘What if I don’t agree to the investment?’

‘Then you might just miss out on any of Auntie May’s money. I would prefer it sat in a bank than have you waste it. So if you’ve got
any
commonsense, Trudy, I suggest you use it.’ She fixed her with a brief scowl and left the kitchen.

Dee had seen that look on her mother’s face before – pure stubbornness. She was renowned for it. It was a family trait, like her lack of height and green eyes. Dee draped her own short body over the kitchen bench, felt the dishwasher whirring under her belly. ‘Bloody hell. I’m being blackmailed by my mother.’

‘It’s not fair, I’ll give you that. But she’s got a point.’ Amanda pulled the plug out of the sink.

‘You agree with her?’

‘Well, it’s not like you’ve ever got any money. And, frankly, an apartment is an apartment. You’re never going to afford one on your own.’

‘So you think I should let her take over my life.’

‘No. I think if you want to get Mum off your back, you should get your shit together.’

Get her shit together? She’d already done that. Her back was better than anyone had predicted, her anxiety was more or less under control, she’d moved on with her life. ‘I’m not going to cut my hair and ditch my job because Mum doesn’t like it.’

Amanda shook her head. ‘I mean put some money together, get your car fixed, buy some stuff. Show her you’re a suitable recipient of your quarter share.’

Dee thought of the money she owed and the state of her battered old car and the apartment
without Leon and scrunched her face up in horror. ‘Is that
all
?’

A bead of sweat trickled down Dee’s face as she wheeled a trolley loaded with Leon’s boxes to the road.

‘Pass me some newspaper. This crate is rattling,’ Leon called from inside the truck.

She tossed him an old
Telegraph
and slumped on the tailgate. ‘Man, it’s hot. I’m sweating like a pig. How many more trips, do you reckon?’

They’d been ferrying Leon’s belongings out of the apartment in a production line for an hour and a half – Robert hauling boxes down the three flights of stairs, Dee pushing them on a trolley to the street and Leon lifting and stacking them in the rental van.

‘I think we’re just about done. Hey, check this out.’ He held up a page from the paper. ‘It’s Ethan Roxburgh.’ He grinned. ‘If you like that kind of thing.’

Dee took the page from him.
Ethan Roxburgh with Roxburgh Girl, model Emma Savine
, the caption said. ‘He looks different in real life. His eyes are nicer or something.’

Robert hefted a large carton up to Leon. ‘That’s the last one.’ He leaned over Dee’s shoulder to look at the photo. ‘His eyes are pretty damn hot in the picture.’

Yeah, his eyes were hot – dark and deep, like there was something interesting going on behind them. He had an arm around the model and looked stylish, handsome, ultra confident. ‘If you like that kind of thing,’ Dee said. She preferred a few dents in the armour. She handed Robert the page, bent over, put her palms on the tarmac and stretched her back.

‘It says he’s on the board of Health Life,’ Robert said. ‘Isn’t that the health insurance company you were asked to do the ad for?’

Dee straightened, put her hands on her waist and twisted. ‘Yes. Lucy tried to talk me into it again yesterday. She’s got a model who can do yoga but just discovered she’s a coke-head.
Apparently it’s not good to promote health and vitality with a model that needs to detox in a padded cell.’

Dee sent another silent thanks to Lucy for being a workaholic. It felt wrong to be grateful for a student’s obsessive behaviour but if it wasn’t for Lucy and injury-addled Patrick, her other die-hard private student, she wouldn’t have worked since Christmas Eve – the rest of her pupils and the classes at the school were on a break over the New Year. Two classes in a week was a record low. Forget Leon’s car and bond. At that rate, she’d be lucky to scrape together enough money to feed herself. Getting her shit together wouldn’t even be an option.

Leon jumped out of the van. ‘They pay a heap for that kind of work, you know.’ When he wasn’t teaching yoga part-time, he was a make-up artist and knew about these things.

‘Yeah, well, too bad.’ She already felt like a dartboard for high-anxiety challenges and didn’t feel like throwing another spike. Everything would be fine, she told herself, if she lived off the Christmas leftovers until the yoga school re-opened in the New Year and if she taught every class that came her way. And if Jo, her catering friend, gave her a few shifts.
And
if she didn’t get the flu and her back held out. Then she could convince her mother she had her shit together, Val would ditch the idea of a mortgage, she could pay off Leon and get her anxiety-free life back. No problem.