Someone Like You (22 page)

He lifted his sunglasses off his nose and swiped his forearm against his forehead. He was clearing up the site and it was satisfying work filling the skip, hearing the clatter and crash of building materials as he threw pieces of paver and stone into it. He felt a wrench at the thought that it would soon be over. He told himself that feeling of regret was about the project, and not about the fact that his work with Lizzie would be at an end. He glanced towards the pub’s back door, wondered what she was doing right now. Staying out of his way, no doubt.

And could he blame her? He felt guilty for not keeping his word about taking her up to McLaren Vale for lunch as he’d promised. Hell, more than guilty. Hadn’t he stood right here, on almost this very spot, and told her he didn’t want to hide that they’d spent the night together? When he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and she’d kissed him right back, she’d almost blown his head off.

Dan felt like kicking his own arse. He’d got carried away. He’d gone too far. He wasn’t ready to dive into anything, not when he had a Damoclean sword hanging over his head, ready to strike without warning. He’d figured the panic attacks had stopped for good but Anna had warned him they might return. That was the cruel trick of what was happening to him.

He pulled his cap lower down on his face. Since he’d seen Anna, he felt himself slipping back to a place he’d thought he’d left behind. This seesaw of feeling good and then feeling like shit was beginning to wear him down. She’d convinced him that talking through what had happened would help. She’d got him to remember things about being in hospital, tried to dredge up memories that he’d locked away for his own sanity. It was painful and exhausting and he was scared as hell of slipping back into the darkness. How could he start anything with Lizzie while he felt that way?

The back door of the pub creaked open and he turned at the sound of it. Lizzie was propping it open with her backside so she could make her way through hands-free. She was carrying a tray, on it a silver jug and two long glasses, clinking with ice. The bright sun hit her like a spotlight and the breeze coming off the beach ruffled her hair and fluttered the collar of her white sleeveless shirt.

‘I thought you guys might need a drink,’ she called.

‘The sparky left. He’s finished up.’

‘Oh.’

When he saw Lizzie hesitate, he stepped forward. ‘But I’ll take one of those if you’re still offering.’

‘Of course.’ Lizzie held the tray out towards him and instead of taking a glass, he took it from her hands. She lifted the jug, poured chilled water into one of the glasses.

‘There you go,’ she said.

‘What about you?’

She looked up to meet his eyes, hesitant.

‘C’mon,’ he said softly. She poured a second glass. Dan nodded for Lizzie to follow him. There weren’t any chairs out there, but there was a stacked pile of pavers in the far corner left over from the job, and they walked over and sat down.

Dan swallowed the water in one huge gulp. Lizzie sipped hers slowly and seemed intent on watching the ice melt. He wondered if she was going to look at him. Maybe if she did, he’d find the right words to say to her.

‘Thanks for the drink,’ he said, leaning forward to drop his elbows on his knees.

‘It’s no trouble, really. It’s hot work out here today.’

‘Trees and shrubs should arrive tomorrow.’

‘Great.’ She paused. ‘It’ll be over then.’

Dan looked back at her, slowly took off his sunglasses, pushed one of the silver arms down inside the neck of his T-shirt. He got the feeling she was talking about more than the renovation job. Other things would be over, too.

‘Yeah. It’ll be done.’

She gripped her glass tighter. ‘Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.’

He took a deep breath, tried to find the words. She’d never pushed him, never judged him, never pitied him. And what had he done? He’d slammed the door in her face. Growled at her. Stood her up. Kept secrets from her. He’d let her down. And there she was, beautiful as ever, thanking
him
.

He heaved a huge sigh. ‘You don’t need to thank me for anything, Elizabeth.’

‘Of course I do. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.’

‘It was a team effort, as far as I’m concerned.’ He reached over, covered one of her hands with his. When she didn’t pull back right away, he entwined his fingers with hers. ‘This project, your idea for this community is fantastic. People will come from all over to check out the market. This is really something.’

She found a smile. ‘I can’t wait to see it all come to life. It doesn’t seem real until then. I was wondering…’ Her eyes dipped down towards her lap, into their entangled hands. ‘Will you be here for the first market? I figure I owe you a cup of coffee. Or at least, breakfast.’

‘Elizabeth.’ Dan gave her fingers one last squeeze and then let go. ‘I can’t. I’m going up to Adelaide for a few days. Maybe a week.’

‘Oh.’

Hearing the disappointment in that one word almost undid him.

‘That’ll be nice. You’ll be able to catch up with people, go out and eat somewhere that’s not the pub. I hope you have a good time.’

Lizzie kneeled down to pick up the tray, loaded the glasses on to it. Turned to him. ‘I’ve got to get back. I’ll let you know when the trees arrive.’

Dan stood, wiping his hands on the front of his T-shirt. He adjusted the tool belt so the hammer hanging from it didn’t dig into his thigh. ‘Okay. I’ll still be around for the next few days if you need me.’

She held his gaze for just a moment and gave him a minimalist smile before heading back inside.

Dan sat back down, took off his cap, tried to tame his hair and tugged it back on. He was as disappointed as she was that he wouldn’t be there for the opening. He really wanted to celebrate all their hard work. And her brilliant idea. He wanted to see it come to life, ask her if it was just as she’d imagined it to be.

But he’d made a promise to Anna. She’d arranged for him to meet with one of her doctor mates, had convinced him that it was what he needed to do. He knew what Lizzie was thinking, that he was heading back to Adelaide to dive back into his old life, filled with bars, nightclubs, women and too much to drink.

It was easier to let her think that because the truth was too hard to share.

He was heading back to Adelaide to try to get his life back.

Dan weaved his way through a crowded, cobblestoned laneway off Adelaide’s Hindley Street. It was early Friday night and half a dozen small bars with funky names were already doing a roaring trade. Crowds of people spilled out from the doorways of neatly restored heritage buildings, chatting and laughing around small tables on the wide footpaths. Advertising types, PR women, business-suited couples who’d arrived directly from their offices. The hipsters and the suits, mixing it up with uni students carrying takeaway coffees and young girls wearing very high heels and very short skirts, obviously walking through on their way to the nearby nightclub strip.

Dan stopped, looked to his left and right, searching the buildings for the bar Luke had mentioned that afternoon on the phone. It was called…what the hell was it called and where was it? There’d been a time, and not that long ago, when he knew about the opening of a new bar before almost anyone else in Adelaide. Not now, clearly.

A hat. The hat. It was something about a hat.

He saw a new place across the street and ducked over.
The Mad Hatter
. Dan walked through the open doorway and saw Luke immediately, leaning back on the bar like he owned the place. He had a designer beer in one hand, his phone in the other and a smug grin on his face.

Luke Harrison had been an asset to Blackburn and Son Developments over the past five years, when Ry and Dan had worked their arses off to save the company from going under. He was a few years younger, maybe just thirty, was smart and worked hard, and had stepped up big-time during Dan’s absence over the past few months. Dan felt a smile crease his face. It was good to see him.

‘Mate,’ Luke exclaimed. He put his beer on the bar and thrust out a hand to shake Dan’s. They did the bloke thing and leaned in and patted each other on the back in a half hug. Then Dan leaned back on the bar and surveyed the crowd as Luke talked.

‘C’mon Sarah,’ he implored down the line, giving Dan a wink. ‘Just one drink. I’m here at The Mad Hatter with Dan McSwaine.’

Luke held up a finger and mouthed almost silently, ‘One second.’

Dan looked around the bar while he waited for Luke to suss out his obvious booty call. The fitout was nicely done, so cool that it wouldn’t have been out of place in Melbourne. The lights were dim, the furniture and fittings eclectic, and the floor to ceiling rough-hewn shelves on the wall behind the bar were filled with bottles of wine and what could only be described as retro knick-knacks.

The crowd was elegant and Dan glanced down at his black jeans and T-shirt, his scuffed boots. He looked perfect for the front bar of the Middle Point pub. Maybe not so much for this place. But he hadn’t exactly planned on going out that night. He’d wanted to go back to Ry’s apartment and sleep. But after he’d spoken with Luke that afternoon, going over some details about the Windswept Development, Luke had twigged that Dan was up in Adelaide. He’d insisted they meet for a drink and Dan had reluctantly agreed. He owed the guy. In fact, he owed everybody at the company who’d stepped up when he’d stepped back. He was self-aware enough to laugh at that thought. He hadn’t stepped back. He’d fallen off the fucking map.

Luke nudged Dan in the side and raised his eyebrows. ‘Sure, bring her along too. I reckon we can get Dan to buy her a drink. Okay, great. Five minutes.’

Luke ended the call and slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. ‘So Dan, it’s so good to see you.’ He threw an arm around Dan’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ‘Shit, you look good. How’s everything? How’s the leg?’ He checked Dan out from his hair to his shoes, as if he was inspecting him for signs of damage.

‘I’m good, mate, yeah, good.’ Dan felt his back stiffen under the cool of his T-shirt. He tried to relax, leaning an elbow back on the bar.

‘That was Sarah. She’s around the corner having a drink with a friend, Rachael. She’s going to bring her along.’ Luke grinned. ‘We could turn this into a night, just like old times, huh?’

Just like old times. Dan mulled it over. Maybe part of getting his life back was this stuff. Getting out. Seeing how it felt to go to the old places. And some new ones. Trying out the old Dan to see if he still fit.

‘Sure,’ Dan replied, trying to find an enthusiasm to match Luke’s. ‘Just like old times.’

Luke slapped him on the back. ‘Excellent. Sarah’s a great girl. Wait ’til you meet her.’

‘Is she your girlfriend?’

Luke grinned and took a swig of his beer. ‘No, not really. We have an arrangement. She wants exactly what I want.’

Dan was surprised to hear that, knowing what he did about men and women. ‘Exactly the same thing you want? Which is?’

Luke slapped a hand on the bar. ‘Which is nothing. It’s casual. It’s hot. And it’s brilliant.’

Dan looked at Luke and saw an echo of himself six months ago. Tried to sort out in his head if he missed it. ‘Good luck with that.’

‘Oh, you know what it’s like, mate. You work hard and play hard. I don’t have time for anything more. It’s been great stepping up at BSD while you’ve been…’

Luke suddenly looked stricken, embarrassed. He took a nervous gulp of his beer and his eyes darted to the door. And then Dan was right back to the accident. The looks of pity and confusion. People not knowing what to say, either saying too much or nothing at all. And then for the first time, he realised that everyone in the company would have been talking about him. He hadn’t shown his face at the office for months. Hadn’t talked to or seen anyone from there until now. And what would Luke report back next Monday when he turned up at work?

‘It’s okay, Luke. I’ve been recovering.’

Luke tugged at his collar. ‘Shit, Dan, sorry. I just didn’t know what to…you know.’

‘No worries, really. Thanks for all you’ve done while I’ve been away. I really appreciate it. Now,’ Dan turned to the bar and away from that awkward conversation. ‘I think I owe you a drink or ten. Another one of the same?’

Luke looked visibly more relaxed. ‘Sure, thanks. And grab a bottle of white while you’re at it.’

Just as Dan placed his order with the too-cool-for-school waiter with a tattoo on his neck, Luke hopped up from his bar stool and nudged Dan in the side. ‘Hey, Sarah’s here. And check out the friend.’

Dan tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, straightened his back and turned towards the door. Luke was locking lips with a tall, red-haired woman who had her hands all over his arse. Standing next to her was the person he assumed was Rachael. She was about medium-height, with hair cut in a straight line at her chin and there was a cute little mouth in a heart-shaped face. Her tight red dress suggested some sexy curves and she was wearing a pair of very high heels. She smiled when he met her eyes.

And then he waited for it to kick in. Waited for a line to pop into his head, a joke, a tease, something flirtatious to say. Where was the rush of blood that always came with the hint of someone new, the possibility of what Luke had, what Dan himself had had so many times before.

There was nothing. The ground seemed to shift under his feet.

Six months ago she would have been exactly his type.

Luke grabbed Sarah’s hand and tugged her towards Dan. ‘Dan, this is Sarah. And Rachael.’

Dan shook their hands in turn, tried again to see if anything flared as he took Rachael’s hand in his. Nope. Not a thing. He jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

Sarah looked him up and down, slowly. ‘Nice to meet you, Dan.’ He couldn’t miss the wide-eyed look she gave her friend. Rachael simply smiled at him and let her eyes wander over his body, too.

‘We’ve ordered some wine,’ Luke said. ‘Let’s grab a table outside.’

Arm in arm, Luke and Sarah walked out through the door. Dan stopped to let Rachael through first and she brushed up against his arm as she passed. Still nothing. A minute later, they were seated and the waiter brought out their drinks.