Almost Perfect (20 page)

Georgie had spent the day trying to avoid conversation, eye contact, anything that engaged her with other people. It wasn't an easy thing to do. Everyone kept asking her if something was wrong. It was so out of character, she would have been better off trying to fake it all day. But she didn't have the energy. Her mind was clogged with thoughts of Liam, confused, futile; crazy thoughts that kept going around and around in her head and getting nowhere. She was frightened of what lay ahead this afternoon, but she couldn't stand the suspense either. She finally announced she wasn't feeling well and that it was best if she went home early. No one questioned that, but Adam stopped her as she was heading out the door.

‘Are you all right?' he asked.

‘No, I told you, I'm not feeling a hundred per cent, Adam, that's why I'm going home.'

‘Yeah, I know you said that.' He looked
awkward. ‘Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?'

She gave him a tepid smile. ‘No, thanks.'

‘What about a lift home?'

‘On the bike?' she frowned.

‘I could borrow Louise's car.'

Georgie shook her head. ‘I'll hop on the bus, Ad, I'll be home in five minutes.'

He stood there, looking a little lost. Georgie touched his arm. ‘Thanks for offering, Ad. I'll be fine, don't worry about me.'

The only problem with going home early was that she had longer to wait for Liam. It was a clammy day, it looked as though there could even be a storm later on. Georgie shed her clothes and took a shower to cool off. She didn't bother with make-up or perfume or fussing over her hair, she just threw on a T-shirt and tied an old sarong around her hips. Then she waited. And waited.

She waited out on the balcony for a while. But then she got bored because there was nothing to do out there. All the plants were long dead, so there was no point watering them. She watched TV for a while, but as she wasn't a primary school child, she got bored with that too. She thought about sorting out the CDs, but she wasn't interested enough to actually go ahead and do it. How would a person go about sorting their CDs anyway? Alphabetically, by the artist's name, or by the album name? Or by some other criteria, like style, era, date purchased, year
recorded? Georgie thought about what made her choose a CD to play. Usually it depended on the mood she was in. Perhaps that would work for her then – she could sort her CDs into emotional categories. What section would she go to now? Music to slash your wrists by? A little Leonard Cohen, or Smashing Pumpkins perhaps? No, no, she wasn't that desperate. Music to kick his butt by? Madonna? Alanis Morissette? No, she wasn't that angry. What was she feeling? Confused and hurt mostly. And the only reason she was hurting was because she was in love with Liam. That much had become painfully obvious to her in the last twenty-four hours. Love and pain were a double act. If you wanted one, you had to be prepared to sit through the other. It was like some cruel joke. At least she wouldn't have any problem finding music to suit her present mood. It would be harder to find a pop song that wasn't about love and pain.

Georgie was mentally compiling a soundtrack for the last twenty-four hours when there was a knock at the door. It was too early for Liam. She had positioned herself upside down on the sofa, with her head hanging over the seat and her legs hooked across the back. She tried to read the digital time on her VCR, but she couldn't decipher it from this angle. She had enough trouble working out twenty-four hour time as it was, without it being upside down and back to front. She would have to get up anyway. She swung her legs away from the back of the sofa but the momentum carried them all the way over, and the rest of her along with them, so that she
did a kind of backward somersault landing on the floor and hitting her head.

That's right, Life, go ahead, add injury to insult.

‘Georgie, are you there?' It was Liam. He knocked a couple more times.

‘Just a minute!' she said, righting herself and rubbing her head. That really hurt. She stood up, glancing at the clock. It was only four-thirty.

‘You're early,' she said as she opened the door. It was a good, meaningless deflector. A statement of the bleeding obvious to mask the embarrassment of the moment when she had to look at him again. Only she couldn't look at him. Not yet.

‘I rang the shop to see if you could get away earlier and they said you'd already left.' He paused. ‘I came straight over.'

She shrugged, stepping out of his way. ‘Come on in.'

Liam walked inside and Georgie turned around, leaning back against the door as she closed it. She still couldn't look him in the eye, but she saw he was wearing jeans and a loose shirt. This was only one of a handful of times she'd seen him in anything other than a suit. It made him seem younger, more vulnerable.

‘Do you want a drink . . . or something?'

He shook his head. ‘No thanks.' He looked at her, concerned. ‘Why did you leave work early?'

Georgie dragged her hand through her hair. ‘I felt like shit.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘It's okay.'

‘No, it's not.'

She met his gaze then. ‘No, it's not.' And then she couldn't hold it in any longer. That's what had been so hard all day. It was as though her chest had seized into a painful cramp and now the muscles were giving up, releasing a flood of repressed tears. Georgie covered her face with her hands and sobbed, and as she did, she felt Liam draw her gently away from the door, and his arms close around her.

‘I'm just going to hold you, that's all,' he murmured into her ear.

She cried a day's worth of tears, and then some. And Liam didn't move, except to stroke her hair, or rub her back gently. Finally the sobbing subsided and Georgie wiped her face with her hands.

‘It's just, Liam,' she started, not able to actually meet his eyes again, ‘I know I was the one who suggested the whole thing about no expectations,' she sighed tremulously, ‘but I don't think it's working any more.'

‘No, it isn't,' he said calmly.

‘The thing is, I think I'm falling in love with you,' she sniffed, ‘and I don't think you can't have expectations when you love somebody.'

‘I know that.'

She looked up at him then.

‘We have to talk, Georgie. Can we sit down?' She avoided the sofa of yesterday's debacle and sat instead on its twin, drawing her knees up in front of herself and hugging them. Liam sat next to her, side on, so that he was facing her. He seemed very calm and resolved.

‘I told you once there were things you didn't
know about me,' he began, looking steadily at her.

She nodded faintly. She didn't know where he was heading with this.

‘The thing is, I wasn't looking for a relationship. It wasn't the right time, I wasn't . . . it wasn't fair to you. I tried to tell you that, I was worried I'd let you down. And then you said all that stuff about no expectations and I thought I could do that. But I can't.'

He was breaking up with her. It was actually happening. Georgie had tried to prepare herself for this all day, but obviously she had failed. Miserably. She felt sick, and her chest was cramping up again, the muscles clenching into a ball of pain so tight it was making it hard to breathe.

‘Georgie, what's the matter?' Liam was saying.

She shook her head, unable to speak. She stood up, trying to catch her breath. The pain travelled from her chest across her shoulders and down her arms. She could feel it in her hands and she started to shake them, biting her lip to stop another onslaught of tears.

‘Georgie,' Liam grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘Honey, what's wrong?'

‘Don't call me honey!' she blurted.

He just stared at her.

‘I know I have to be adult and take this on the chin and there were no expectations and it was all my idea after all and you could have done this any time but if you're going to break up with me then DON'T CALL ME HONEY WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!' she shouted. She stood there trembling, clenching
her hands, breathing hard.

‘I don't want to break up with you,' Liam said quietly. ‘I'm in love with you, Georgie.'

‘What?' She mouthed the word, it didn't quite make it out of her throat.

‘I love you,' he repeated. ‘When we made love yesterday, I knew it for sure. I've been kidding myself that I wasn't getting emotionally involved, that I was just having fun, that it was all innocent . . .' He paused, sighing heavily. ‘I didn't expect this to happen. I've never felt like this before, or maybe I did, but it was a very long time ago.' He was still holding her by the shoulders and he let his hands slide down to grasp hers. ‘I love you, Georgie. I want to be with you and I want to make you happy, I think I can make you happy.' He gazed at her, his eyes full of tenderness. ‘You seem like you would be a very easy person to make happy.'

Georgie felt tears rising again, but this time she felt no pain. They came bubbling out of her like champagne out of a bottle. Liam drew her close and they stood together, holding each other tight. He loved her. He actually said he loved her. She knew it, she knew it all along. He was never going to leave her. He said he wanted to make her happy. Well, he only had to be here.

After a while he leaned back to look at her. ‘Are you okay?'

She nodded, sniffing. Of course she was okay. She was much more than okay, she was thrilled, elated, overjoyed. Except for a tiny little niggle, like a pebble in your shoe that you try to ignore but you
know won't go away till you take the shoe off and shake the cursed thing out.

‘Um, Liam,' said Georgie, ‘can I ask you something?'

‘Sure, anything.'

‘I still don't understand,' she began. ‘What was going on yesterday? Is everything all right?'

He took a breath. ‘Everything's going to be all right, I promise you. I need a little time, that's all.'

Georgie was still lost. He seemed to speak in riddles sometimes. Or was it just her?

‘Let's sit down again,' he suggested.

This time she didn't hug her knees defensively. They sat turned towards each other. Liam rested one arm across the back of the sofa behind her and took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it firmly.

‘I do love you, Georgie, and I want us to be together. You believe me, don't you?'

She nodded, listening.

‘But like I told you, I wasn't prepared for a relationship and my life is . . . how can I put it,' he hesitated, ‘a little complicated at the moment.'

Georgie frowned. ‘Why?'

‘Well,' he began, ‘there's my job. I've filled my life up with work, for a lot of reasons, but I don't need to do that any more, I don't want to do that any more. But now I've got myself into this position, this level of responsibility, I can't suddenly bail on them.'

‘I wouldn't expect you to, Liam,' said Georgie. ‘And to be honest, I don't see what's so hard about juggling a job and a relationship. Most people seem
to manage it.'

‘I know that,' he said, squeezing her hand. ‘But I'm juggling a little too much right now. Can you be patient with me while I sort myself out?'

Georgie looked into his blue-grey eyes and saw the man who had just told her he loved her, that all he wanted was to make her happy. The man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. And she couldn't feel the pebble any more.

She smiled. ‘I think I can manage that.'

They leaned towards each other, slowly, and a little shyly. Their lips met at a space between them, a space their bodies weren't inhabiting. A neutral space. And then his arms closed around her, and she brought her arms up to wrap them around his neck. She moved her leg up over his thigh as he leaned into her, pressing her back into a pile of cushions. Their bodies melted into each other, no neutral territory now. Georgie could feel Liam's urgency building, but she knew she was holding back. She wanted to make love to him again, of course, but what if he got up and left like he did yesterday? He wouldn't do that, surely, not now, not after what he'd just said. She tried to put it out of her mind, but the idea persisted. So deal with it. Ask him. It was okay to ask him now.

‘Liam?'

‘Mm?'

‘When do you have to leave?'

He lifted his head so he could look directly into her eyes. ‘Well,' he began, ‘actually, I've cleared my schedule for the rest of the day.'

Georgie looked up at him. ‘What does that
mean?'

‘No meetings, no calls . . . no nothing.'

‘You're not expected back at the office later?'

Liam shook his head, smiling down at her.

She blinked. ‘I don't understand.'

He crooked his elbow, supporting his head on one hand. ‘I've finished work for the day, for the week, as a matter of fact.'

Georgie had to hear it from his own lips. ‘What are you saying?'

He smiled again, taking hold of her hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss it. ‘It's Friday, I can stay . . . the night if you want, if you'll have me.'

Georgie gazed up at him. She felt flooded with happiness. ‘Did I tell you before that I love you?'

‘Not in so many words,' he replied. ‘You said something like you
think
you
might
be falling in love with me . . .'

She grinned. ‘I was just keeping you guessing.' She pulled him close and kissed him and this time she wasn't holding back. Not even a bit.

‘Do you want to slip into something more comfortable?' she murmured against his lips.

‘What did you have in mind?'

‘The bedroom.'

‘Morning!' Georgie exclaimed as Nick opened the front door.

He looked half asleep, which was to be expected considering he was only half awake. He squinted at her. ‘What are you doing here so early?'

‘Did I wake you?' she chirruped, walking past him into the house.

He turned around, closing the door. ‘You have to get up a lot earlier in the morning to earn that jersey in this household.'

Georgie pranced over to where Grace was sitting in her highchair. ‘Hello cotton bud,' she said, kissing the top of her head, as it appeared to be the only part of her niece that wasn't smeared with soggy Weet-Bix. She slapped the newspapers down on the table and almost skipped across to the kitchen. ‘I'll put coffee on, shall I?'

Nick was scratching the back of his head when Louise drifted down the hall in her dressing gown.

‘Lulu, there's a strange woman in the kitchen pretending to be my sister, but she's not fooling me. Clearly she's an impostor,' he pointed accusingly. ‘Make the bad lady go away,' he whined.

‘Hidey ho, Louise,' Georgie sang, pulling up the kitchen blind. ‘Have you seen what a beautiful morning it is out there?'

‘Oh God,' drawled Louise.

‘What's up with her?' Nick scowled.

‘I have a feeling she's had sex.'

He screwed up his face in distaste, rushing to the highchair. ‘Jeez Louise, don't say the “s” word, there's a child in the room. Not to mention Grace,' he added, covering her ears.

‘You got it in one, Louise,' Georgie declared.

Louise put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, what do you know? He finally came through.'

‘That's an understatement.'

‘Okay, there's no need to skite.'

‘Oh, yes there is,' said Georgie turning on the tap to fill the kettle, ‘and that particular shade of green-with-envy does not become you.'

Nick plonked himself on the nearest chair and dropped his head on the table. ‘You were a lot easier to take when you were desperate and dateless,' he muttered. ‘The sex has clearly gone to your head.'

‘Sex sex sex sex sex,' chanted Grace, banging her spoon on the tray of the highchair.

‘See, now look what's happening,' said Nick. ‘She sounds like a backing singer for Kylie Minogue.'

‘Where's Molly?' asked Georgie, noticing her absence.

‘Zan and Jules had her overnight,' Louise explained.

‘I think they're playing mummies and . . . mummies,' Nick added. ‘I tried to tell them they'd get more realistic work experience with the one that wakes through the night and wears a nappy to bed. I get the feeling they think this baby is going to come out toilet-trained, speaking in sentences and dressing itself.'

Georgie frowned. ‘Has something happened I don't know about?'

‘Well, let's see.' Nick picked up the newspaper and scanned the headlines. ‘Arab-Israeli peace talks at a stalemate . . . Reserve Bank making noises about interest rates . . . Could you narrow down what the something might be that you don't know about?'

‘I'm referring to Zan and Jules,' she persisted, ignoring Nick and turning instead to Louise where she had a chance of getting a sensible answer. ‘Are they pregnant?'

‘Not as yet,' she replied. ‘I think they both assumed it was going to be a lot easier.'

‘I don't know what their problem is,' said Nick. ‘We just hung our underwear on the same stretch of clothesline and next thing . . .'

‘I let him believe that,' Louise winked at Georgie, coming into the kitchen. ‘Then he doesn't suspect the tradesmen.'

‘What tradesmen?' Nick scoffed. ‘I'm the only tradesman around this place.'

‘That's debatable.'

The kettle boiled and Georgie filled the coffee plunger and carried it across to the table. She started to whistle as she walked back to the fridge for the milk.

‘Okay, that's it, Georgie,' said Nick. ‘I can take chirpy, just. But not whistling, not before . . .' He peered across at the clock on the wall, ‘. . . actually not ever.'

He watched her pouring the coffee. ‘So now that you've consummated your relationship with Mr Big, when am I going to get to meet him?'

‘Today.'

‘Today?' Louise and Nick chorused.

‘That's right.'

‘Where?'

‘Here.'

‘He's coming here?' said Nick.

‘Yes.'

‘Why?'

‘To meet you of course.'

‘I mean, what made him finally decide to grace us with his presence?'

‘Don't say it like that,' Georgie chided, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down. ‘Actually, our relationship turned a corner last night.'

‘Yes, we know, you finally had sex,' Louise said bluntly, wielding a wet facewasher at Grace.

‘Sex, sex, sex, sex–' Gracie clapped along this time.

‘Shh! No, Gracie, no sex!' said Louise, making eye contact with her and shaking her head firmly.

‘That's right,' said Nick. ‘Listen to your mother. No sex, Gracie. Sex is bad!'

Louise rolled her eyes as she lifted her daughter out of the highchair and popped her onto the floor. Grace toddled off up the hall.

‘So, go on, Georgie, you turned a corner,' Louise prompted her. ‘Where did you end up?'

‘Well last night, Liam told me he's in love with me,' she said, finding it impossible to keep the smile off her face.

Nick folded his arms. ‘Well, I should hope so.'

‘We've only been going out a couple of months,' Georgie reminded him.

‘Are you in love with him?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘So are you having a “relationship” yet?' asked Louise.

‘That's what I meant about turning a corner. It changes everything. We're taking things to another level.'

‘Hold on,' said Nick. ‘I'm getting dizzy. What are you doing, turning around or going up?'

Georgie sighed. ‘I don't know. Perhaps we're moving forward.'

Nick rubbed his eyes. ‘I hope you two have got a compass.'

Grace appeared at the end of the hallway. ‘Molly gone,' she announced soberly, holding her arms out. She must have been searching the house for her sister.

‘Come here, sweetheart.' Grace ambled across to her father and he picked her up onto his lap. ‘Molly stayed with Aunty Zan last night, remember? She's bringing her home soon, okay?'

Grace was listening to him intently but her expression was blank. She always looked the same, rarely was she particularly impressed or particularly bothered by what anyone told her. They were never quite sure if she understood at all, or if she understood much more than they realised. Probably the latter.

‘Gracie outside,' she said solemnly, before scrambling down off his lap. Nick stood up and slid the back door open as she toddled out.

‘So where is Mr Big anyway?' he asked. ‘Didn't he have the decency to spend the night?'

‘Yes, he did. He's meeting me back here, and you're not going to call him that when he does, are you?'

‘Call him what?'

‘Mr Big.'

‘What's his name again?'

‘Don't be smart,' Georgie chided. ‘Liam had to go off and make some calls and . . . oh, whatever it is he does,' she said dismissively. ‘So I thought I'd give you a heads-up that he was coming. See if I couldn't help out some way.'

‘Help do what exactly?' Louise frowned.

‘Well, I don't know, I thought you'd give us lunch at least.'

‘But you can't cook,' Nick reminded her.

‘I know that, I'm not expecting anything fancy, it's only lunch. I can chop and slice and stuff like that.'

Nick and Louise regarded her with suspicion.

‘You just want to impress your boyfriend,' said Louise. ‘You're going to slice a couple of tomatoes and tear up a head of lettuce and then when Liam arrives you'll take all the credit.'

‘I'm hurt,' said Georgie. ‘Okay, if you don't need me in the kitchen, then I'll clean the bathroom, or polish the silver–'

‘What silver?' Nick frowned.

‘What makes you think our bathroom needs cleaning?' asked Louise.

‘And when would you ever have noticed before?' Nick added, raising an eyebrow.

‘This is because of Liam,' said Louise, folding her arms. ‘You want to polish
us
, not the silver.'

‘What silver?' Nick asked again.

‘Louise!' Georgie declared. ‘It's not like that, I'm just so excited that he's coming here and Nick's finally going to get to meet him. I don't care about the bathroom, you know that. Don't take offence.'

‘Too late,' Louise said airily.

‘I'm the one who should be offended,' said Nick. ‘It's my housekeeping skills that are being brought into question here.'

Georgie leaned over and put an arm around her brother. ‘No one is being judged, okay? Liam's the one who's nervous. You should see him, he's so sweet, he really wants to make a good impression. And I just want him to know how wonderful and special you all are, okay?'

Nick smiled at her. ‘I understand.'

‘So you will have a shower, wash your hair, shave?'

‘Okay, now I'm offended.'