Pictures of Lily (11 page)

‘He’ll really appreciate this,’ I say to Michael.

‘He sounded very pleased on the phone,’ he agrees. ‘It was nice of you to think of him.’

I don’t say anything, but joy is bubbling over inside me at this turn of events. I glance out of the window as we pull up outside Ben’s place. I was too busy concentrating on reversing out of his driveway when I last came here in daylight, but now I can see that his quaint colonial-style house is nestled in amongst the trees. Large round purple flowers have been planted around the front porch.

‘He’s been a bit lonely without Charlotte here,’ Michael adds.

‘Who? Oh, is that his nan?’ It’s not a very old lady-ish sounding name.

‘No.’ Michael laughs. ‘Charlotte. His girlfriend – fiancée, rather.’

My heart stops. Literally – stops.

‘I beg your pardon?’ The blood drains from my face.

‘Here’s our man.’ Michael nods past me and I turn to see a gorgeous, smiling Ben standing in the doorway. ‘Have a good time, love. Hope the joey’s okay.’

I’m frozen to my seat, staring out of the window in shock at the person who I now feel absolutely certain is the love of my life. His eyes meet mine and his smile wavers.

I come to life and open up the door, struggling to carry the plate as I step onto the steep incline of the driveway. Ben starts as though coming to my aid, but I find my footing and walk towards the door, my eyes on the pavement. I glance up to register the confusion on his face as he steps aside and waves to Michael. I look down again as I pass through the door. His feet are bare.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks, closing the door behind me.

‘How’s Olivia?’ I blurt out.

‘She’s fine, don’t worry. It was another koala at the park. I’ve given her an injection of antibiotics, so we should see an improvement in the morning.’ Keepers rarely call the vet unless it’s an emergency. They administer medications, take blood and complete all the medical recording. They even assist with operations at the park on occasion.

‘I’m going back to check on her in a couple of hours,’ Ben continues. ‘It’s okay,’ he stresses, putting his hand on my arm. He obviously assumes this is the reason for my catatonic expression. ‘Come through. Olivia’s in the living room if you want to check her over for yourself.’

I lead the way then turn back to pass him the plate. ‘I brought you this,’ I mutter.

‘Excellent, thanks. And I got you this.’ He reaches behind himself to take a red-and-white striped parcel from the top of a cabinet. He hands it over, grinning. I didn’t buy him anything in the end. I was worried it would make my feelings for him appear too obvious.

‘What is it?’ I ask. My heart is still in my throat. I feel like I could choke to death on it.

‘Open it and see.’ His smile falls from his face once more at my appearance. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks again.

I sit on the sofa in a daze and carefully open the present, not wanting to tear the wrapping paper for who-knows-what reason. Six rolls of film spill out. My eyes fill with tears and my face crumbles.

‘Lily, what’s wrong?’ he asks in horror, taking a seat next to me and putting his warm hand on my arm. I shrug him off and immediately regret it. Burying my head in my hands I try so hard not to sob. I desperately want to know the truth about whoever this Charlotte person is, but I just don’t know how to ask, especially not now that he’s seen my reaction. I feel like such a stupid, silly little girl.

‘Please tell me,’ he urges quietly.

I shake my head violently from side to side, wanting him to disappear for a few minutes so I can get my act together. I so wish I had my licence so I could drive far, far away from here.

‘Look, she’s okay. She’s over there.’

I glance up to follow his extended finger in the direction of Olivia, snuggled up and asleep in a box by the heater. It may be hot outside, but it’s still cool within these thick stone walls. I nod.

‘That’s not it though, is it? Is it your dad? Kay? Olivia? Nothing’s happened to the baby, has it?’

‘No, no, no.’ I avoid his gaze. ‘Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘I’ve never seen you like this. Is it Dan? Shannon?’

As if I give a shit about my ex-boyfriend and one-time best friend now. ‘No.’

‘Do you want a drink?’ he asks hopefully.

Actually, all I really want is for him to take me home again so I can cry my heart out in the peace and quiet of my own bedroom. But that would be even more inexplicable, so I reply, ‘Yes, please.’

‘Good.’ He stands up, looking relieved. ‘Coke? Lemonade?’

‘Lemonade, please.’

I cast my gaze around the room when he’s gone, looking for anything that would give me a clue about this absent girlfriend. There are no photos of her that I can see, although I suppose there could be one lurking in his bedroom. I wonder what she looks like. Wait, could she be dead? My heart lifts and I know how awful it is to have that reaction, but maybe that’s what Michael meant about him being, what did he say? ‘A bit lonely.’ Hmm. Not exactly the phrasing you’d use to describe someone who’s lost his partner to the Other Side. I wonder what she looks like . . .

Ben returns, his expression grave. ‘Nothing’s happened with Josh, has it?’ I take my drink from him and almost spill it.

‘Hell, no!’

‘Oh, okay. Good.’ He laughs awkwardly.

‘Oh, Ben.’ I sigh and turn to put my glass on a side-table, feeling a bit more like my old self. ‘Pass me a coaster, would you?’ He takes one from the table at his side of the sofa and hands it over. I turn to face him. He’s still looking confused and I don’t know what comes over me, but I meet his eyes steadily and on impulse ask him outright.

‘Who’s Charlotte?’

‘Charlotte?’ He shifts uncomfortably. ‘She’s . . . er . . . she’s my girlfriend.’

I don’t know why he finds it so hard to say this out loud, but he’s clearly ill at ease.

‘Where is she?’

‘England,’ he answers, looking down at his mug and not meeting my eyes.

‘England? Where in England?’

‘London.’

I find myself laughing bitterly. ‘You’ve got a girlfriend – or is it
fiancée
– who lives in the city I’ve just left, and you never thought to tell me?’

‘I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about stuff like that.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ I cry. ‘I told you how my boyfriend shagged my best friend right in front of me and you didn’t even think to mention you have a
girlfriend
? Why not?’

I’m speaking to him as if I’m his equal. With confidence and as if I deserve these answers. The fact that I’m a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl has flown right out of my mind.

‘Look at me!’ I cry.

He raises two grave eyes to meet mine and we stare at each other for a long time. And then I crumble again and start to sob. He doesn’t touch me, doesn’t comfort me. Eventually I glance up to see him with his head in his hands at my side. He’s a man, a grown man, but he looks lost. I put my hand on his back and it snaps him out of his reverie. I take my hand away as he looks at me, utter despair on his face.

‘Say something,’ I plead.

‘I don’t know what to say.’ His voice is strained and it hits me that –
oh no
! – he’s embarrassed for me. I’ve made a complete and utter fool out of myself.

‘I want to go home.’ I sound even younger than I am.

He gets to his feet. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’

We don’t speak on the journey. I stare out of the window, mortified to my core. I don’t know how I’ll ever face him again. Back at the house, I open the car door before he’s pulled to a complete stop. He reaches across to grab my hand and I snatch it away in shock.

‘Lily, I’m sorry,’ he says, anguish in his voice.

I don’t say anything, just climb out, slam the door and run up the footpath as fast as my stupidly high-heel-clad feet can carry me.

By early evening I drag myself out of my bedroom in need of distraction, hoping that there will be something good on TV. Mum, Michael and Josh are slumped on the sofas tucking into turkey leftovers.

‘There you are, love!’ Michael exclaims. He and Mum squash up closer together on the sofa so I can squeeze in. Josh turns up the TV. There’s a Tom Cruise movie on the box.

‘Are you feeling better?’ Mum asks.

‘Not really. I don’t think I’ll be going into work tomorrow,’ I tell Michael, preparing the way for my absenteeism.

‘See how you feel in the morning,’ he annoyingly replies. ‘How was Olivia?’ he adds.

‘She’s fine. Another koala at the park was ill,’ I reply, staring at Tom mixing cocktails in front of us.

‘So this Olivia then, you called her after your half-sister?’ Mum asks.

‘Yes,’ I reply bluntly. I don’t need any of the usual grief I get from Mum about my dad’s offspring.

‘That’s nice,’ she says in a restrained voice, crossing her long, lean legs in front of her on the coffee table. I notice she has a tan. Probably spending her days in the garden, sunbathing. She continues, ‘When you two talk about “the joey” I always picture a kangaroo in my head. I didn’t know koala babies were called joeys, too.’

‘Mmm.’

‘How was Ben?’ Michael asks me casually.

‘Fine.’ And then it occurs to me that I could get some answers here and now, if I play it right. ‘I think you’re spot on though. He misses Charlotte.’

‘Who’s Charlotte?’

Good work, Mum.

‘His fiancée. She’s a Pommie. Went back home a couple of months ago,’ Michael explains.

‘Oh, that must be hard,’ Mum says. ‘We know what it’s like conducting a long-distant relationship, don’t we, love?’ She grins at Michael and I want to prod her to make sure she doesn’t change the subject.

‘He’ll be with her soon enough,’ Michael declares.

Bile rises up in my throat. I try to sound indifferent as I ask, ‘When’s he going over there again?’
Unless she’s coming here instead.

‘Gosh, it’s only a few weeks away now,’ Michael replies.

So he
is
leaving. No, please, no.

‘We’ll miss him at work.’

‘His fiancée will be pleased though,’ Mum says, saving me from trying to formulate a response. ‘When are they getting married?’

‘As soon as possible, I think. Poor girl’s had to make all the arrangements herself.’

‘That’s no good,’ Mum says disapprovingly.

‘It’s not like they had a choice,’ Michael goes on. ‘Her visa ran out and she wanted to get married at home so she went back to the UK to wait for him to get his bits and pieces sorted.’

‘Can you guys shut it?’ Josh says rudely. ‘Or go into the other room. I’m trying to watch telly here.’

‘Sorry, son,’ Michael booms, nodding towards the TV screen. ‘What have we missed?’

I spend the next day in bed, and don’t even have to pretend to be ill. When Michael gets home that night, I’m wondering how I can stay off another day. I’m not ready to face Ben again. I plan to skip work just like I skipped school when all that Shannon/Dan stuff hit the pan.

‘I hope you’re feeling better, darl, because we’ve got some understaffing issues at the moment.’

My heart sinks. ‘Really?’

‘Yep. Two of the team have come down with a weird summer flu strain, another is on annual leave and even Ben’s got tomorrow off, so we could do with an extra pair of hands.’

I don’t hear the last ten words because ‘Ben’s got tomorrow off’ is all I need to know.

‘I am feeling a bit better, thank you,’ I say. ‘I’m sure I’ll make it in. I just hope I don’t relapse,’ I add, keeping all bases covered.

I’m on edge the next day at work, half-expecting to see Ben walk around the corner at any given moment. He doesn’t, and as the day progresses, I start to relax. At lunchtime I wander down to visit Roy the roo, and as I approach I see a family standing in the shade near a group of kangaroos. I smile as a girl of about twelve excitedly points to a joey’s foot poking out of the top of its mother’s pouch. And then I watch, horrified, as the little girl’s father creeps in and gives the foot a tug, trying to pull out the joey. The alarmed kangaroo mother jumps up and hops away, and the whole family bursts into laughter. I stare at them, disgusted. I hate people like this. They turn to go and spy me standing there.

‘You shouldn’t do that,’ I say, as the smiles drop from their faces.

‘Er, sorry.’ The father looks suitably ashamed of himself. At least that’s something.

‘Come on, let’s go and see the emus,’ the mum says, and the family scurry away from me in embarrassment.

I sigh and scan the paddock for Roy. As soon as I sit by his side in the shade of a tree my spirits lift. I’m so lucky to have this job. I don’t want to quit. I don’t want to run away this time.

Unsurprisingly, my bravado doesn’t last until the following morning when Michael and I set off for work. I’m trying to come up with ways to avoid Ben all day, but he’s right there in the staffroom when we arrive.

‘How was your day off?’ Michael asks him, leaving me to attend to our teas in peace. I’m grateful to have something to do.

‘Yeah, alright, thanks,’ Ben replies.

‘Do you want one?’ I find myself asking Ben.
I will not be bowed by you!
And then I nearly crack up giggling at the sound of my own melodrama.

‘Er, sure,’ Ben replies, looking taken aback at the sight of me on the verge of hysteria.

That’s right, buster, I say to myself. I will
not
be bowed by you! I’m still fighting off the urge to laugh when I pass him his tea.

‘Thanks.’

‘Cheers!’ I say chirpily and chink mugs with him and Michael. They look at each other like they think I’ve gone mad.

‘Might pop outside for some fresh air,’ I tell them, swiftly making an exit.

I take a deep breath and exhale loudly as I wander down the path away from the staffroom, my mug of hot tea still in my hand. I pause in front of some birdcages and stare through the wire at a Bush Stone-curlew. Its huge, inquisitive-looking eyes stare back at me. There’s something almost childlike about these birds.

Approaching footsteps make me turn my head towards the curve in the path and my hands begin to tremble as I see Ben round the corner. I quickly force myself to take a sip of my tea to give myself something to do.

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hello.’

‘How’s it going?’ To his credit, he’s trying to sound upbeat.

‘Fine.’

‘Are you coming to help out with the koalas today?’

‘Um, not sure.’

‘Okay.’ He presses his forehead with his thumb. ‘I could do with the help. Two of the koalas are on the Heinz diet at the moment.’

That means they’re underweight. We feed them pumpkin and sweetcorn baby food – the one in a can – when their weight continues to fall.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Lily, I—’

‘Yes, what the hell,’ I interrupt. ‘Count me in.’

He smiles with relief. ‘Cool. Good. See you there in a minute, yeah?’

‘As soon as I finish my tea.’ Slurp.

‘Cool,’ he repeats.

And then he’s gone. I sigh heavily.

As the day goes on, the awkwardness between us begins to fade. Humiliation had temporarily dulled my feelings for him, but as my embarrassment fades, the pain in my heart starts to return. I can’t believe he’s going to the other side of the world to get married to someone else. I must try harder not to think about it.

‘What are you doing on New Year’s Eve?’ Ben asks as we wander back to the staffroom at five o’clock.

‘I don’t know yet. Josh and his mates are going to a club in Adelaide, but I don’t want to risk getting asked for ID. They’re a bit tighter on that down in the city.’

‘Mmm, they are.’

I wonder how old his girlfriend is?

‘What about you?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know yet either, which is a bit crap considering this is the Millennium. My mates have all had their plans sorted for about a year, but I don’t know . . . I hate clubs.’

‘Do you?’

‘Yeah. They’re too smoky and crowded. Full of pricks,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean Josh,’ he adds.

‘Yeah, you do.’

He smirks. Then tells me: ‘I’ll probably just climb up to Mount Lofty and watch the fireworks from there.’

‘On your own?’ I ask in disbelief.

‘Why not?’

‘On New Year’s Eve? To see in the year 2000? You can’t do that!’ I exclaim.

‘Yes, I can.’

‘Saddo.’

‘Maybe I’ll take Olivia with me.’

‘That’s even sadder.’

‘Oh, well.’ He shrugs.

We get through the next two days like this and before I know it, it’s Friday night and New Year’s Eve. I’ve reluctantly given up on the clubbing idea, and therefore I have to forgo seeing in the new millennium with people roughly my own age. The only option I have left is offered by Michael. He has some friends who live in the city, so the plan is to crash at theirs for the night so he and Mum can drink themselves silly, and then we’ll all wander over to the park to watch the fireworks at midnight. I can’t quite believe I’m going to spend the last night of 1999 with my mum, but I’m hardly going to climb up to Mount Lofty like some sad stalker in pursuit of Ben. However much I’d like to.

Michael’s friends, Pete and Gwen, turn out to be great fun. They live in College Park, not far from the Botanic Gardens, and their house is party central. The front and back gardens are lit with thousands of fairy lights and Pete has the cocktails going from the get-go while Gwen dishes out a vast array of mouthwatering canapés. The time flies by as I chat to all manner of wacky and wonderful people, and pretty soon Pete’s leading a gang of us out of the house and down the street and I’m being caught up in the moment as I sing along drunkenly with the rest of them.

The park is packed – there’s barely space to put down a tissue, let alone a picnic blanket – so we stand where we can and look up as multicoloured explosions light up the sky above us. When it’s over and everyone has given up hugging and kissing perfect strangers and has taken to dancing on the streets instead, I find myself in the middle of the throng, looking back up at the hills and thinking of Ben. I’d give anything to be with him right now. An ache starts up deep in the pit of my stomach and I look around for Pete to see if I can nab a swig of his vodka.

The next morning the whole house is dead to the world. These adults are unbelievable – they party harder than any teenager I’ve ever known. I make my way down the streamer-strewn corridor to the living room at the back of the house and turn on the television, keeping the sound down low so as not to bother the sleeping bodies of people who didn’t quite manage to make it home last night. My head is pounding as I collapse on the sofa and dig into a bowl of leftover peanuts. It’s almost midnight in England and I want to see what I missed out on. Fireworks burst off dozens of boats lined up along the River Thames, and the London Eye is lit up with explosion after glittering explosion. The banks of the river and bridges are absolutely heaving with hundreds of thousands of revellers.

It’s bizarre – but strangely addictive – to see people celebrating when we did all of that last night. I’m glued to the television as more countries see in the year 2000 and eventually the sleeping bodies around me begin to stir.

Later that morning I leave the hungover crowd on the sofas and take a walk through the park with my camera. I snap away as attendants clear up the mess from the night and I take close-ups of foil confetti sparkling in the hot sun. Eventually I find myself in the Botanic Gardens at the lily pond.

I haven’t allowed myself to properly dwell on Ben all week and I haven’t cried for days. He’s done the decent thing by me and has acted like business as usual so I’m hoping he’s on his way to forgetting about my strange behaviour at his house. I’ve tried to think of ways to explain it, but can’t come up with a decent enough lie so I know I have to leave it.

Now though, sitting here at his favourite place in the city, a wave of sadness and grief pulses through me. He’s the only person in this whole country who I really want to spend time with. When he goes, it’s all gone. I’m over Josh – that was just a fleeting attraction – and I have no friends of my own. Ben looked out for me, he listened to me, and now he’s leaving.

Tears well up in my eyes and I surreptitiously brush them away, aware of strangers lazing in the sun nearby. In my peripheral vision I see a man with sandy blond hair and my heart stops, but I realise almost immediately that it’s not Ben. What would I do if it were? If he sat down beside me now, would I be able to hide the pain I’m in? Would I tell him how I feel? I honestly don’t think I’d be able to stop myself and oh . . . that would be so humiliating. I wouldn’t have the strength of character to see out the rest of my summer at work – I’d have to quit immediately.

The thought of all this brings my tears to a halt and I suddenly feel full of determination to sort myself out. I can’t ever let him see what he means to me. Maybe I need to find someone else to take my mind off him. Shane is nice, but no, I don’t fancy him. I don’t fancy any of Josh’s friends. It would be good to meet Shane’s sister though. What was her name again? Sammy, or something like that? Tammy, that’s it. She’s just broken up with her boyfriend; perhaps we could go out on the town together and take our minds off our heartbreak. Not that I plan on telling her about Ben. I’ll never tell anyone about him.