Love: Classified (5 page)

When my mobile rang, I started. I’d been deep in thought. I didn’t want to have to get up and break the spell. We’d been sitting in companionable silence for several beautiful long minutes, I realised, accompanied by the radio and the chooks’ contented clucking. I lifted the cushion off my lap and struggled up and out of the chair but by the time I got to it on the kitchen table  it had rung off and shown me that I’d had a missed call from Peta. I’d have to tell her I was OK so I called her straight back.

     “It’s me, Pete,” I said. “All’s good. I’ll talk to you properly later.”

     “You sound great!” she laughed. “Get back to him then, and tell me all about it when you’re free. Bye, darl. Have fun. Love you.”

     “Love you too,” I said. 

Magnus was looking at me differently when I returned to the
verandah. As if he had a question that he wasn’t sure about asking.

     “I’m making pizza for lunch,” I said. “Would you like to stay? There’s plenty.”

     “You sure I’m not in the way?”

     “Not in the least. You could make yourself useful by lighting the pizza oven and picking some tomatoes, capsicums and basil for the topping, though. I’ll roll the dough now and it’ll be ready in a flash.”

From
the kitchen window I could see him in the garden, evaluating each tomato, grinning at the hens.

     We ate in our customary chairs, finishing the last of the wine. The afternoon rolled along easily as we chatted about simple things like food and my work. He seemed reluctant to talk about
himself and was interested in
You!
and the whole concept of electronic media.

     By evening, the sky was a soft pink-orange and
I saw that he was watching a flock of pelicans wheeling gracefully in the thermals.

     “Don’t you envy those birds?” he asked. “Not a care except whether they’re going to eat herring or mackerel for
dinner.”

     “You’re free, aren’t you?” I countered. “Free enough to choose to go wherever in the world you want?”

     “But you’re never free of memories, are you,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

     “Do you want to talk about them?”

     He shook his yet. “Maybe one day, down the track,” he said.

     “Talking of tracks, which particular one are you thinking of taking on your travels?”

     “I’d like to drive around Western Australia for a while,” he said. “See my own country before heading overseas. What about you?”

     “I don’t have any plans
.”

     “Apart from the movie.”

     I looked at my watch and was amazed at how quickly the day had disappeared. “It starts in less than half an hour,” I said.

     “You really don’t mind if I stay and watch it with you?”

     “I’d like you to,” I said, meaning it. “I’m going to shut the girls in for the night. Then let’s go and get some chocolate.”

     “We’ll go in my van, seeing as I’m parked behind you.”

     “I s’pose I might as well get used to it,” I called as I closed the hen house door behind the chooks.

     “You’ll come with me, then, on a holiday to places even the
LP
doesn’t know about?”

     “Yup!” I laughed, thrilled with life all of a sudden. Concentrating on the chocolate we were about to buy so other, tigress appetites didn’t take over.

     “You might’ve changed your mind by the time you’ve been driven to and from the deli,” he warned me, laughing as he opened the rusty door for me.

     I climbed up, again only too aware of my threadbare, s
aggy shorts and how inadequately they covered me. He was so close I could smell the healthy musky scent he exuded.

     “
Oh, head north. It’s not far. I’ll give you directions,” I said. “Where did you find this van?” I asked, trying to sound casual when my heart was turning somersaults and having to cross my legs tight to keep what was going on between them under some kind of control. I could hardly believe I was sitting beside this beautiful man, that he was smiling at me, having finally encouraged the engine to kick into life. Suddenly we were bunny-hopping down the street.   

     “A present from my sister, Daisy, for better or worse,” he chuckled. “Daisy was a hippy-type until she became a power-suited lawyer with a silver Merc. She had no further use for old Matilda and, when I told her I was planning on getting away from it all, she begged me to take Matty with me. The old girl was tarnishing Daisy’s image.”

     I touched the crystals dangling from the rear-vision mirror. “It’s funny,” I said. “I know the name of this van and that your sister is called Daisy, but I don’t know your whole name, only the Magnus bit.”

     “Oh I’m sorry,” he said, sounding genuine. “It was rude of me not to introduce myself. I’m Magnus Winchester.” He took his hand off the steering wheel to shake mine. His grip was firm, the rough warmth of his skin sending more tremors through me.

     Magnus Winchester, I repeated silently in my head. Where had I heard that name before? I decided not to ask him. He’d tell me when he was ready. Or not.

“Evening Ginny,” Jake called as we walked into his
tiny, brim-full shop a few blocks away. Jake looked up at Magnus’ tall form with undisguised interest. He’d never seen me with a man before.

     “Hey, Jake,” I said. “This is Magnus. Magnus, Jake. Jake has the best range of chocolate this side of Switzerland.”

     “I believe Ginny’s a connoisseur,” Magnus said, “So she must be right about you, Jake. What a brilliant place this is!”

     Jake’s shop is indeed brilliant. That evening it looked particularly good, with a new delivery of flowers crowded into the tubs at the door, summer-ripe peaches in a big box next to the till, and the usual hessian sacks filled with coffee beans, spices and nuts. Cheeses, cured meats, breads and pastries of all kinds and home-baked cakes and slices crowded the dark little cave with its worn timber floor boards and old-fashioned pressed tin ceiling. And, in the midst of it all, Jake with his
spiky eyebrows, shiny bald pate and wizened frame wrapped in a big green apron.

     “Ginny’s my favourite customer,” Jake said.

     “How’s Josie today?” I asked.

     “A little better, thanks, my dear. She’s ever so pleased with the books you brought her when you visited the other day. She says they almost make being in hospital a pleasure. In fact, she’s home tonight. They’re giving her a break between tests. Why don’t the pair of you pop in and see her right now? She’d be so pleased.”

     “Josie’s Jake’s wife,” I explained to Magnus. “She fell off a step-ladder while stacking tins and
she has a deep gash down one leg.”

     “Oh, what a shame,” Magnus said and I could hear that he was genuinely concerned. “All the same, it’s less of an ordeal if you have a book or two. I hope she’s comfortable.”

     “No, she never complains,” Jake said. “Now, come out the back quickly and see her, eh?”

     We followed Jake to the back of the shop and through a door which leads to their house. Sitting in an easy chair, a cup of tea on the table beside
her was a frail-loooking Josie. Her leg was bandaged from ankle to above the knee.

     I ran to her outstretched arms and knelt beside her to give her a hug.

     “Oh Ginny, it does me the world of good to see you!” Josie said.

     “Josie, meet Magnus,” I said. “He and I called by for some snacks
. It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

     “Marvellous,” she said, looking anything but. She craned her neck to get a better view of the handsome stranger, then patted my shoulder and added,
“You’ve caught a beauty there, girl. Hello Magnus. Very nice to meet you.”

     “Likewise, Josie,” Magnus said, stepping forward to shake her hand.

     I could feel Josie scrutinising my reactions to Magnus and in a second she winked at me and said, “Now don’t you two let us old folk keep you from having a good night. Off you go and enjoy yourselves.”

     “All right,” I said, seeing only too clearly how our short visit had tired her. “I’ll see you again very soon, okay?”

     “Good night and God bless, dears,” Josie said, blowing a kiss as Jake led us back into the shop.

     “What do you think?”
Jake whispered anxiously when we were standing near the till. “Do you reckon she looks a little better?”

    
“Oh definitely,” I lied. “She’ll be as right as rain in no time, you’ll see.”

     The relieved grin on his face was worth the fib.

     “Now, what can I get you youngsters?” Jake asked.

     I turned to Magnus to see if he’d registered the ‘youngsters’ adjective and he caught my eye and smiled.

     “The usual please,” I said, handing over the money.

     Jake rummaged on a shelf behind him and produced a bar of Swiss milk chocolate. “Good movie?” he asked.

     “Yes,” I said. “And it’s starting soon. We’ll be off, Jake. Goodnight. Sorry to be in such a rush. I’ll pop in tomorrow and we’ll have a proper chat.”

     “Goodnight Jake,” Magnus said. “Nice you meet you and Josie. Oh, and your shop is fantastic. I’ll definitely be back.”

     “Thanks! See you again, then,” Jake called after us.

     I knew
that he and Josie would spend the rest of the night talking about me and the polite and pleasant man I’d brought with me. And that they’d both agree that no matter how ‘nice’ Magnus might be, he was still not good enough for their ‘Ginny’. I don’t know why, but they seem to think I’m some kind of saint.

     “Great couple,” Magnus said when we were back in Marry, lurching forward as she crunched into gear. “They’re fond of you.”

     “And me of them,” I said. “Ever since I’ve lived in this street I’ve probably seen them at least once a day. I’m always in their shop for something or other.”

     “
Makes a difference, having good neighbours. I miss that, where I live. There’s no sense of community.”

     He parked the van behind my Micra and once we were inside I asked him if he wanted coffee.

     While I made it he brought the glasses in from the verandah, rinsed them, and took the milk from the fridge.

     “You’re very domesticated,” I said.

     “I had a wife once. She beat it into me. And it’s a pleasure to be in your house. I like the way you’ve splashed the colours around.”

     “I’m not someone who liked muted tones.” I handed him a mug and reminded him we had less than five minutes before the film started.

     It was a quirky foreign one with subtitles and we watched it side by side on the squashy sofa. I was so aware of his presence I hardly noticed what was happening on the screen. Magnus, however, seemed relaxed, guffawing heartily in particularly funny scenes. For me, though, the real drama was going on in my little house. I could hardly believe I was spending Sunday night with a man, let alone one like this.

     We shared the chocolate and he ate with such gusto that I wasn’t ashamed of my appetite, although I didn’t enjoy it as much as I usually did.
Another, stronger, appetite, was dominating every nerve cell in my body. As he became more engrossed in the story unfolding on the screen, he was so relaxed that by the time the end credits were rolling, he was sprawled across the sofa, his dark head almost in my lap. I let my eyes feast on the angles and planes of the man who had so unexpectedly ended up in such close proximity. I dared not touch him, not even let my hand accidentally touch his while handing him the chocolate. If I had, I’d have combusted. And I dared not speak because my voice would have been a growl. My knickers were wet and I detected the musky scent of my own arousal. I was sure he could smell how much I wanted him.

     “That was great!” he said, clambering into sitting position when it was finished. He didn’t pull away to the other end of the sofa but stayed so near I could feel his body heat. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a good laugh.”

     He got up and went to the kitchen to turn the kettle on for more coffee. I took the chance to pull a throw rug over myself, to tell myself that I was a fat, ugly, lonely woman and that we was only spending time with me because he felt sorry for me. Because he was going through a brief bad patch. The end of a marriage. That after our ridiculous holiday, if we did embark on it, he’d walk into a nightclub and find himself a twenty year-old as beautiful as him. The kind of woman he deserved. By the time he came back with the coffee, I’d convinced myself I was probably the ugliest woman he’d ever met. Certainly the least desirable. My voice, I hoped, would be back to normal. And I might be able to shake his hand at the end of the night without my lower body going into spasms of unbearable pleasure.

     So w
e spent the next hour or so discussing the various characters, reliving our favourite scenes. I was relieved I’d seen the film once before or I would have felt like an idiot.