Chapter Text
Loud, relentless knocking dragged Joel from a delightful dream involving Michelle Pfeiffer and a jacuzzi. “What the fuck …?” Alyssa mumbled from the other bed. “It’s only seven-thirty.”
“Just ignore it.” Joel rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow.
“Yoohoo! Kiddiewinks! Are you awake?”
“I fucking hate it when she does that.” Alyssa sat up and rubbed her eyes. “‘Yoohoo!’ Who talks like that?”
Joel heaved himself out of bed. “We’d better answer, or all that yoohooing’s going to wake everyone in this joint.” He stumbled to the door, blinking sleep from his eyes. As soon as he pulled the door open, Mum barged into their matchbox of a motel room. “Aren’t you two dressed yet? Come on, up and at ’em!”
“For God’s sake, Mum, you might want to speak louder, I don’t think the ants in the street heard you,” Alyssa complained. “I thought we were doing our own thing today.”
Mum and Dad had packed them both into the car as if they were still little kids and dragged them to Sydney for the week. The principal reason for the trip was to meet the family’s first grandchild and niece; Briony had given birth to Ashley three days ago and they’d spent most of the time at the hospital and then settling Briony and the baby in at home. Then Mum committed them to a tedious round of catch-up with friends from her days living in Sydney thirty years ago, an endless time loop of “haven’t you grown!” from virtual strangers (“Yes, that’s what happens when your parents feed you and you get older,” Joel felt like saying more than once), while he wondered for the thousandth time why he’d agreed to stay with his parents at the motel for two more days, sharing a room with his younger sister for the first time in about twenty years, instead of getting the train back to Wagga in time for Nath’s twenty-fifth at The Bootleg. Probably because his mother ruled the household like the dictator of a Soviet satellite state and her word was law. Also, he was broke after two years backpacking around the world and dependent on his parents for accommodation and transport until he’d saved up enough to buy another car and started uni. At least Mum was planning to stay another two weeks with Briony to “help out” with the baby, which would probably make poor Briony more frazzled than ever but at least would give him and Alyssa a break.
“No, we’ve got the Harkers’ barbecue. I told you last night.”
“The who’s barbecue?”
“Andrea and Kev Harker. You remember Auntie Andrea and Uncle Kev. Andie and I did the nursing course together.”
“Nup,” muttered Alyssa.
“Of course you do. Joely, you’d remember them. They lived up the road from us before we left Sydney.”
Joel groaned. “Barely. And stop calling me that.”
“Come on. You must remember. You and Bri used to love playing with Guy and Liz.”
“Did we?”
“Liz was a real child prodigy, remember? Always on the piano. She’s got a recording contract now, and Andrea said she’s giving concerts. I thought we might get along to one while we’re here but she doesn’t have anything coming up, unfortunately.”
“Oh, yeah.” He had a vague recollection of a blonde girl who was always showing off in front of the adults. He and Briony had had piano lessons when they were little, and in grade five he had delusions of rock stardom and took up the guitar for a few years, but neither had the ability of Liz the Musical Genius. Mum and Andrea would call on the kids to perform, and when it was Bri’s or Joel’s turn, Liz would perch on the arm of the couch, listening to them politely with a look of pity on her face.
“You’ll probably remember when you see them. Well, Guy won’t be there, but Liz is bringing her husband. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him at the wedding so it’ll be good to meet him properly.”
“I didn’t even know she’d got married,” he muttered.
“Oh, come on, you were at the wedding, don’t you remember? Very lavish reception at this winery in Rutherglen, think her husband owns it. No ... that's not right, what am I thinking? The ceremony was at the Botanic Gardens, that's it, and the reception was at that lovely Vaucluse estate. The winery was the original plan, but it was a bit too hard to get to for a lot of people, Andrea said, and I've got to say, I think it was a sensible decision to have it here in the city. ...”
"Mum, how is any of this relevant?"
“It's not. We didn’t go.” Alyssa yanked her t-shirt off, exposing her breasts, and rummaged through a pile of clothing for her bra and clean undies. Joel hastily averted his eyes. He’d argued strenuously for them each to have their own room because sharing with his sister at their age was totally inappropriate, but Mum and Dad said it was too expensive. The unspoken reason was so Joel could keep an eye on Alyssa and make sure she didn’t sneak out to score or throw herself under a truck. She’d been clean for six weeks, but they were all on edge waiting for a relapse.
“Goodness’ sake, Lyss, put some clothes on. Are you sure? We were all invited. I’m sure you were there.”
“Joel was somewhere in Central Europe and I said I wouldn’t recognise Liz if I tripped over her on the street, so I didn’t see the point in joining the rent-a-crowd.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. Well, I must have told you about the wedding anyway.”
“Not that I know of,” Joel said as he headed to the bathroom with a bundle of clean clothes. The water from the shower drowned out the rest of his mother’s monologue.
She was still going when he returned to the bedroom after he’d dried off, shaved and dressed. “…I still remember those daughters of his, glowering at the back of the room, wearing head-to-toe black as if it was a funeral. Wouldn’t sit with the bridal party. I tried to chat to one of them, but as soon as I said I was a friend of the mother of the bride she scowled at me and walked away. Rude. One got so drunk she nearly had to be carried out…”
“Sorry, what are we talking about? Whose daughters got drunk?”
“Liz’s husband’s daughters. What’s his name, Stuart or Simon or something? Starts with S. Anyone would think they were hostages, the way they behaved. I felt very sorry for him …”
“Hang on, are you talking about Liz’s husband?” Joel was struggling to follow the conversational thread this early in the morning.
“That’s what I just said! It really helps to pay attention when someone’s talking …”
“Yeah, okay. Settle down. Has he got kids? And they were drinking at the wedding?” Joel assumed Simon-or-Stuart was roughly the same age as Liz and had a disconcerting mental picture of a five-year-old getting stuck into a bottle of Yellowglen.
“Two daughters. One looked about your age and the other was about eighteen.”
Joel looked at her in surprise. “Must’ve had them young if he’s close to our age.”
“Oh, he’s quite a bit older. Maybe twice Liz’s age …”
“Oh.” He wasn’t sure why he was taken aback by this. Natasha was twelve years his senior after all, and from what he remembered of Liz, she always seemed more at ease among adults than with kids her own age.
“Ooh, someone’s got Daddy issues …”
“Alyssa! And apparently he’s got plenty of money. He took her to Italy and Spain a few months ago. Whirlwind romance, swept her off her feet, but he was still married at the time, so they had to wait for the divorce to come through … I’m not sure Andrea was too thrilled about the idea at first, but you know … young and in love. They’re all trying to be supportive. She said he seems genuinely committed.”
“So Liz is a homewrecker as well as a gold digger,” Alyssa drawled. “Nice. Moving in on another woman’s husband. All class.”
“For God’s sake, don’t say anything like that in front of Andrea. Or Liz.”
“I’m not hearing any disagreement though … Did you notice that, Joel?”
“That’ll do. Anyway, I thought we’d call in on Briony in the morning then head over to Andrea’s place for lunch.”
“Do we have to?” Joel sprawled on his bed. “We hardly know them.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Why? You and Dad should go – they’re your friends. We’ll just hang round here. I need to pick up some things from uni for next year, I may as well do that today.”
“Are we going to meet the daughters? I think they sound cool.”
Mum shot Alyssa a quelling look. “I highly doubt it.”
“That they’ll be there or that they’re cool?”
“Both. They’ve been horrible to poor Liz.”
“Then I’m not interested.” Alyssa lay back down and pulled the covers over her. “I’m going back to bed.”
Mum smiled sweetly. “You’re coming. Both of you. Wear something nice, and best behaviour!”
None of Joel’s or Alyssa’s counterarguments were a match for their mother’s implacable obduracy; after breakfast, they both conceded defeat. Then Joel caught his mother off-guard while she was on the phone to Briony and extracted a concession that he could leave by three.
Liz answered the door when they arrived, immaculately dressed in a pink silk top, designer jeans and flat shoes made of some sort of ivory mesh fabric, her hair swept back and secured with silver clips at the sides. Joel noticed the shoes because Natasha had several pairs in different colours and wore them to death. “Hi everyone!” She greeted his parents effusively, then hugged Joel and Alyssa in turn. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you guys for a hundred years! It’s so good to see you, how have you both been?”
Alyssa didn’t respond with much more than monosyllables, leaving Joel to pick up the conversational burden. “Good to see you too. Heard you’re a professional muso now.”
She responded with a bashful smile. “Early doors. Few concerts and I’ve got a contract with Decca. But, you know … not exactly Nina Simone.” She flicked a loose lock of hair back over her shoulder. “Hey, do you remember our impromptu concerts for the parents? Andrea’s still got home videos of some of them, I fully cringed.”
“Yeah, I remember. You were always great, though.”
“So were you.” She seemed sincere. “Do you still play the guitar?”
“God, no. I gave that up in year nine.”
“Shame. You were good. No, don’t look at me like that, you were.”
“I was ordinary.”
“You were good.”
“No, trust me – I was really ordinary. The only kid in my music class who couldn’t play Stairway to Heaven.”
“Cut that out. You were good. We came up with a kick-arse arrangement of Black Night, didn’t we?”
“Did we?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember? ‘Black night is not right/I don’t feel so bright …’” She sang the first few lines in a husky contralto, triggering a mental image of them in the lounge room at Andrea’s place - Liz at the piano and himself hunched over his guitar. They’d had Guy’s copy of the seven-inch single playing in the background, repeatedly moving the needle back and forth to replay the more difficult bits. Guy had been furious when he came home from wherever he’d been and caught them with it, threatening dire consequences if he discovered even a fraction of a scratch.
He laughed at the memory. “I can’t believe you remember that! We must have been, what, all of ten?”
“It was my tenth birthday, so you would’ve just turned eleven.” She beamed. “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten. If we’ve got time, I’ll dig out the video of us playing it for the parentals after lunch.”
“Please don’t. What have you been up to?”
“Well, after school I went onto the Con-did you know, they’re amalgamating it with Sydney Uni soon?-then started playing with the Philharmonic, and I still do, but I’ve done quite a few solo concerts more recently. Heaps of touring round Australia and a few in America. Booked my first tour of Europe in ’88 and I’ve got another one in Vienna next year. What else? Got married.” She giggled and waved her left hand, displaying an impressive rock and a more delicate wedding ring.
“Congratulations,” Joel replied on behalf of Alyssa, who was standing to one side rolling her eyes, as well as himself. “When was that?”
“Last September. Almost our first anniversary, can you believe it?”
“Nice,” he said politely. “What’s he do? He a musician as well?”
“God, no, though he does love his music. He’s in the food and wine business. Import/export sort of thing, and a winery in northern Victoria – his old friend’s run it for yonks. We’ve also got a restaurant, Las Meninas, have you heard of it? It’s really taken off in the past couple of years.”
“Oh, okay. How did you meet then?”
“Guy introduced us.” Her eyes flickered off to the side.
“Set up, were you?” He meant it to sound teasing and light-hearted, but Liz seemed to flinch.
“No. No, he got to know Steve’s family and we met socially and hit it off … not a very original story, to be honest.” She glanced away again, picking at one of her fingernails.
Joel let it drop. “What’s your last name now? So I know who to look out for if I want to catch one of your concerts.”
Liz looked confused. “Harker. What else would it be?”
Joel struggled to hide his surprise. Many of his school and uni friends were already married and all the girls had taken their husbands’ names. “Oh. I thought …”
She laughed. “It’s not changing, if that’s what you mean! I told him, he can change his if he wants us to have the same name.”
“Hm. Maybe I’d better have a frank man-to-man chat with your husband.”
She narrowed her eyes and wagged one finger in mock severity. “Maybe I’d better have a frank woman-to-woman chat with your girlfriend.” Joel laughed, and Liz linked her arm with his affectionately. “I think you’ll find he doesn’t give a shit. His previous wife didn’t change her name either.”
“Oh, yeah, Mum mentioned he was married before and has kids.”
“Twice! Three times including me,” she replied brightly. “Though as I always say, those are only the ones we know about.” She giggled, fiddling with her hair.
“Oh, right.” Joel decided to let that go through to the keeper as well, and shot a warning look at Alyssa, who seemed about to say something.
“Anyway, what about you? Mum said you’ve been away for, like, eighteen months or so? How was it?”
“Two years. I had a job teaching business English in Hong Kong for a little while, though practically everyone I met speaks it so I felt a bit surplus to requirements. Most of the time in Europe …”
“Amazing. You have to tell me everything …” Liz continued chattering rapidly as she escorted them through the house towards to the back garden, repeatedly twirling a lock of hair around one finger, her manner overly cheerful to the point of brittleness.
“God, she’s painful,” Alyssa muttered as Liz briefly stepped into the kitchen.
“She’s just nervous. I’m not sure she was any more keen for this than we are.”
Liz reappeared with a bottle of champagne and a bowl of chips. “Come on. Everyone’s out the back. It’s a shame Guy couldn’t be here, but …” She lowered her voice. “It’s Alex’s anniversary next week, so it’s a tough period for him. He’s gone down the Great Ocean Road by himself.”
“Sorry, I don’t follow …”
“Alex was her brother’s partner who died, you idiot,” Alyssa cut in. She paused for a moment. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you weren’t here.” To Joel’s surprise, she went on, sounding twice her age, “I was really sad to hear about that. It must have been horrible for you.”
Liz blinked rapidly. “Thank you. Yeah, it was devastating. He was one of the loveliest guys you could ever hope to meet.” She drew in an audible sniff, then recovered quickly. “Anyway, that’s why Guy’s not here. Can’t quite hack the full family catastrophe or most social occasions yet. He wasn’t up to coming to our wedding last year, either. Shall we?” She pushed the back door open.
Joel hung back. “I had no idea about that. Was it an accident?” he muttered.
Alyssa dropped her voice to a whisper. “No. AIDS. He was only twenty-six.”
“Fuck. Poor bloke. Shocking way to go.”
“Mum was a real bitch about it too. She was all sweet and sympathetic on the phone to Andrea, then as soon as she hung up she goes, ‘Serves him right.’”
“Bullshit, I know Mum has her moments but she’d never say anything like that.”
“Well, she did. You know what she’s like. We’d better go out there. Tits and teeth!”
“What?”
“Like this.” Alyssa grinned at him like the Cheshire Cat and pulled back her shoulders, sticking her chest out.
Joel judged Liz’s husband, whose name turned out to be Stephen, not Simon-or-Stuart, to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties - about five years younger than his mum, despite the silver hair that flopped over his forehead. He spoke with a noticeable English intonation, and was a couple of centimetres taller than Joel, slim and obviously fit, with a handsome face: striking dark blue eyes, fine bone structure, full lips, a charming smile. Clearly, his money hadn’t been the only attraction. He was elegantly dressed in a white open-collared shirt, dark linen trousers and a pale blue jacket, making Joel feel painfully underdressed in his jeans and t-shirt. As Liz made the introductions, he greeted each of them warmly, as if he’d been waiting all his life to meet them. “It’s awfully good of you to come,” he told Joel, keeping hold of his hand after shaking it. His hand was warm. “I’m sure you’ve got far more interesting things to do, but I know Liz was thrilled about seeing you and your sister after so long.”
“Thanks.” Joel withdrew his hand. “Good to meet you too, Steve. Sorry, I mean, Stephen. I’ve got a bad habit of abbreviating everyone’s names whether they like it or not.”
“Don’t worry. Steve’s absolutely fine.” He flashed that smile again. “Hardly anyone calls me Stephen these days.”
Andrea and Kev had put some tables together on the back verandah in two rows: for the food, the other to sit at. Joel ended up next to Steve, with Liz opposite; Alyssa was stuck between their mother and Andrea towards the other end of the table.
“Where are you from originally?”
“How do you mean?” Steve’s eyebrows narrowed. He didn’t seem offended, merely bemused by the question.
“Sorry, you sound English, so I just wondered whereabouts …”
He visibly relaxed. “‘Where I’m from’ is a hard question to answer. Father’s side of the family came from Great Yarmouth in Norfolk, though I was born in Hong Kong and spent most of my childhood there. I was sure Mother came out from England with him but one of my daughters recently embarked on a family tree project and it turns out Mother was also born in Hong Kong, though apparently they met at Cambridge. My eldest is digging into it, she’s fascinated by that sort of thing. I went to secondary school and university in England, but I worked out recently that I’ve lived here for over half my life. Hence” – he adopted an exaggerated version of what Joel assumed was either Cockney or a non-specific north of England accent; despite having lived in England for six months he still had trouble distinguishing between them – “me accent’s warped.”
Joel returned his smile. “Do you think of yourself as English or Australian then?”
“Both, I suppose. I’ve got dual citizenship, so that makes me legally both.” He smiled again. “What about you?”
“Born here. Sixth generation. About as dull as you can get. Where did you grow up in Hong Kong? I lived there for a while, loved it. Though everyone I know there’s getting worried about the handover, especially after Tiananmen Square. That was shocking.”
“I know – horrific. A dear friend of mine and his family are still there, but he wrote to say they’re seriously considering moving to India if things get bad. Or here, if they can get visas. Nothing’s going to happen for a while, obviously, and maybe not much will change once it does - I know the agreement is that the status quo will be maintained as far as possible. But I can understand wanting a contingency plan in case everything goes tits-up.”
“Steve! No politics at the table!”
Steve’s sigh was audible. “I’m not talking politics, darling, we’re talking about Hong Kong, if you don’t mind. Sorry, Joel - you asked me something and I got completely sidetracked.”
“I was wondering where you lived. I went there on exchange for a few months in year ten and stayed with a host family in Sham Shui Po. But last year I was living in Sheung Wan for about three months.”
Steve’s face lit up. “Yeah, I know that area well. My friend has a restaurant there. My parents lived near George the Fifth Park on Hong Kong Island before the war, but I only remember our flat in Kowloon City. My father lived there until 1984.”
“And have you always lived in Sydney?”
“No, I started out in Melbourne, actually. Only moved up here two … no, nearly three years ago.”
“And Mum said you’ve got kids?”
Steve’s expression was hard to read. His face brightened at the topic and he seemed pleased Joel had asked, but his eyes seemed to have a touch of sadness. “Two daughters. They’re both at uni in Melbourne – one’s in second year Arts/Law and the other’s just started a doctorate in clinical psychology. She likes to analyse me in her spare time for practice!” His accompanying chuckle sounded forced. “I think I’ve got a photo somewhere if you’d like to see it …” He reached behind towards his jacket, hanging on the back of the chair. “Here it is.” He pulled out a piece of stiff square card from his wallet.
Liz giggled. “Steve, people are still eating. We can have show-and-tell later.”
“I don’t mind.” Joel held out his hand. “If you still want to show me.”
“This is years ago now, but I thought you might recognise the backdrop …” It was a slightly soft-focus image of two dark-haired girls on the deck of a ferry. The shorter one was almost a carbon copy of Steve, except female with curly hair.
“That’s the Star Ferry, isn’t it? And I recognise the harbour.”
“Yeah, this was their first visit. She was eighteen and she would’ve been ten, nearly eleven.”
“Are they up here as well?”
Steve shook his head. Liz interjected, “They’re grown up now and live down south so we don’t see much of them these days, do we Steve? Both off doing their own thing, being independent, just like us.”
Mum had been right, Joel thought. The tension, although slight, was obvious – he shouldn’t have touched the topic of the daughters. Steve winced but simply replaced the photo in his wallet. “Yes, thanks for that, Liz. Anyway, tell me more about your travels, your father was saying you’ve been away for two years …”
He needed little encouragement, though he couldn’t help noticing how often Liz interrupted when they got onto the topic of Spain. Joel wondered if Steve was finding it as irritating as he was, though maybe he was used to it. The mere mention of his week in Barcelona prompted, “We went to Barcelona! We were there in June. We loved it, didn’t we, sweetie? We saw La Traviata at the … Grand Theatre something …”
“Gran Teatre del Liceu,” Steve supplied swiftly, sounding a little impatient.
Joel was impressed. He’d picked up some basic Spanish as he and his best friend Gavin hitched their way around the country, but by now it was pretty rusty. “Your Spanish is good,” he said slowly in the same language, then added in English, “Sorry, mine’s shocking. I probably completely butchered that.”
Steve smiled modestly. “It wasn’t that bad,” he replied in Spanish, “but thank you.” Switching to English, he added, “I started teaching myself while I was in my last year of school and kept it up at uni. It’s a necessity if you want to do any sort of business there. But please, do go on – you were telling me about Salamanca?”
Joel launched into his Travel Greatest Hits, such as the guy from California who wanted to start his own cult; the elderly woman who preferred youth hostels to hotels, had been a nurse in the first World War, and seemed to have an endless supply of both risqué anecdotes about past lovers and vermouth and brandy stashed in her suitcase; the time he and Gavin got a lift to Cádiz from a friendly older gentleman who’d offered money and accommodation in exchange for sexual favours, in response to which Gav had said he’d think about it. He later revealed his unique philosophy on life boiled down to, “I’m not gay but twenty bucks is twenty bucks.” Fortunately, he hadn’t been required to put that to the test – Joel convinced the guy to drop them off near a youth hostel, hinting at a fictitious cousin who happened to be an officer with the local police. After a while, Joel was conscious of his mother’s eyes on him – she made a subtle hand gesture that he knew from experience was a signal that he was monopolising the conversation - and wound up an anecdote about the guesthouse owner in Seville who, when they staggered back from a big night in the early hours, confronted them in nothing but bra and undies and berated them for, as best Joel could work out, coming in late and being drunk. As the laughter he elicited subsided, he added, “But you’ve got to tell me about your trip. Were you travelling with a tour, or with anyone else?”
“Well, I don’t think any of our experiences can compete with those. We hired a car and drove ourselves around. A lot of it was work-related, you see, though we did get to some of the Granada Festival …”
Liz cut in again. “It was brilliant. I loved it. One day I hope I’ll get to perform there. But speaking of friends, get this – day one in Granada, and Steve runs into an old mate from boarding school whom he hadn’t seen in years. Completely lost touch with him, and they’re in the same place at the same time.” Steve forced a smile, clutching a paper serviette in his hand.
“I can’t speak for English people, but everywhere we went was crawling with Aussies.” Joel speared another piece of overdone steak. “I kept thinking, the whole point of getting out of Australia was to get out of Australia, and it turns out half the bloody country’s already over there! I hope it wasn’t someone you didn’t want to see, that would be awkward.”
Steve mumbled something about it being good to see whoever it was again, before Liz interrupted with a spiel about meeting the friend and his mother for dinner and hoping to catch up with them in London, and how nice it was that Steve got to catch up with him one on one after the concert. The story itself was boring; what intrigued him was that she was talking too much and too fast. Meanwhile, Steve’s hand seemed to shake as he lowered his glass.
“That’s nice,” Joel said politely, though he wasn’t particularly interested.
“But tell me, what drew you to Hong Kong?” Steve’s question put a merciful end to the topic of the school friend in Granada. Liz turned her attention to making conversation with Alyssa, a difficult task at the best of times. Meanwhile, Steve drew him out about his time in Asia and his thesis topic.
“The geopolitical ramifications of World War Two and the Cold War in East Asia,” Joel explained, feeling – as he always did – like a pretentious wanker. “It’s technically a politics thesis, but I’m really focusing on the history.”
“Good Lord. That’s a huge topic.”
“I know. I’ve got to narrow it down. I’m more interested in World War Two, but you can’t really separate them …”
“Could you perhaps concentrate on Hong Kong as, I don’t know, some sort of case study? Then again, I neither read politics nor did I do a proper thesis, so take anything I say with a pinch of salt.”
“That’s not a bad idea. What did you study?”
“I read English and Modern Languages at Cambridge …”
Joel suddenly became conscious that they were the only ones still sitting outside. Steve produced a packet of cigarettes and reached for an ashtray. As he offered one to Joel, who declined – he’d smoked during his last two years of school but gave up after an ultimatum from a girl he went out with in first year uni – Liz appeared at the back door. “Hey, everyone’s in the living room having coffee. Want one? Ugh, Steve, really?”
“I’m only having one, and you’ll notice I refrained while everyone was eating.” To Joel, he said, “Are you sure you won’t have one as a gesture of solidarity?”
“Sorry, mate – I’m with Liz on this one. I didn’t realise you’d all gone inside. What time is it? My watch has stopped.”
“Nearly four. You two must have been having a fascinating conversation if you didn’t notice.”
“We were,” Steve said. “But we’d better make a move, hadn’t we?”
“Oh, God, yes! I nearly forgot. I’ve got a student coming in an hour.”
Steve and Liz departed in a flurry of farewells. “Great seeing you again,” he said, hugging Liz. “I mean it, it’s been too long.”
“Hey, since you’ll be up here next year, maybe it won’t be quite so long. We’ll organise something soon.”
Steve shook his hand, then took a pen from his breast pocket and scrawled something on the back of a business card. “Here.” He handed it to Joel, enveloping him in a disarming smile. “I know what it’s like, adjusting to living in a new city where you hardly know anyone. You know where we are if you need anything. Our home number’s on the back, and you’re always welcome to phone me at the office.”
“Thanks.” Joel smiled back.
“Once you’ve found a place to live and have settled in, we’ll have you over for dinner …”
“I’d like that.” As soon as he said it, he realised he meant it.
“I truly did enjoy our conversation. I hope we’ll meet again soon.” He allowed his hand to rest briefly on Joel’s left bicep as he followed Liz out the door.
“Me too.” Joel stared after them as the car backed out of the driveway, wondering why the tips of his ears felt hot.
“Aren’t you running late?” Mum seemed surprised as he rejoined them in the lounge room, which seemed strangely empty, like something was missing.
“Late?”
“Didn’t you have to be somewhere by half-past three? It’s well after four now.”
“No.” Then he remembered, too late. Damn Mum and her memory like a steel trap. “Oh, no, that wasn’t set in stone.”
“He insisted he had to get away by three,” Mum told Andrea.
“Oh, no, I’m sorry we’ve held you up …”
“It’s fine. I wanted to pick something up from this bookshop, but forgot it’s closed on weekends. Anyway …” He grinned at Andrea and Kev. “I was having a good time.” Something sharp poked the heel of his hand. He was still holding the business card, he realised; it was warm from the heat of his palm. He slid it into his wallet with clumsy fingers.
“Steve’s very nice,” Mum declared. “Didn’t you think, Neil? He’s a lovely man, Liz is very lucky.”
Dad grunted. Andrea responded with a thin smile. “Yeah, he is. Big improvement on the last one.”
Alyssa returned from the kitchen having helped herself to another Coke. “Bit weird, isn’t it?”
“What is?” Mum gave her a quelling look.
“The age difference. And didn’t Liz say he’s been married twice already? Doesn’t that worry you guys?” She directed this to Andrea and Kev.
“Alyssa!”
“It’s all right.” Andrea seemed not to mind Alyssa’s bluntness. “It’s the truth, after all. Liz is an adult. We can’t make these decisions for her. As long as she’s happy …”
“I liked him,” Joel interrupted quietly.
Alyssa laughed and poked him. “Yeah, well … he definitely liked you.” She made a limp-wrist gesture. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that …”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Alyssa smiled innocently and opened her mouth to say more, when Mum caught her eye. “Nothing.”
Joel scoffed and looked away. Always best to ignore her when she was in that sort of mood.