Anna groaned, loudly and dramatically. 'Ry, it's good to see you again. If I could actually open my eyes to see you.' She then held out a hand across the marble kitchen bench. 'You must be Julia. Nice to meet you.'
Julia shook her hand. 'Hi Anna. Nice to meet you, too. Do you need a shower? Some Panadol?'
'Oh … just let me sit here for a minute.' Anna moved her head slightly in Lizzie's direction. 'Hey Lizzie.' Then she slumped onto the marble bench, resting one cheek on the coolness of the stone.
Dan awkwardly rested a hand on her back and patted it reassuringly. 'Vodka,' he explained.
'Anna,' Ry grinned. 'I'm shocked. Since when can't you handle your vodka?'
'Since I grew up and got sensible. Ohhh,' she groaned. 'Coffee. Espresso. Please.'
Ry swung into action at the coffee machine and Julia looked to Dan.
'She doesn't look good,' she whispered.
Dan shrugged. 'She drank most of the vodka.'
'That's 'cos you were doing all the talking and I was doing all the listening, Danny. This is all your fault, you know. I didn't get any sleep, either. The waves were too noisy. And my back aches. Your bed is so uncomfortable.'
Lizzie suddenly felt like a spare bridesmaid at a wedding. She slurped the last of her coffee and set the glass down on the counter. 'Great coffee, Ry. I've got to go. I promised Harri I'd stop by this morning and hang out her washing. Her hip's been playing up.' She stood to go.
Take that, everyone. You're all having wild parties and crazy sex and I'm hanging out with the retiree next door. My life is so awesome it hurts. 'Hope you're feeling better, Anna.'
Anna moaned, not lifting her head. 'Thanks, Lizzie. I'm so sorry … '
Julia shot Lizzie a wide-eyed glare. Ry smiled a goodbye. The only one who couldn't meet her eyes was Dan. She took a deep breath, turned. Ready to head back to her old life. This detour, no matter how green the eyes or how amazing the sex, was definitely, completely over.
'I'll see you all later.'
'Elizabeth, wait.' She looked back over her shoulder. Dan was walking towards her. 'I need to talk to you … '
'Yes?' she bit back, her heartbeat cracking a hole in her ribcage. She hoped she was far enough away from everyone so they couldn't see the tears of humiliation stinging her eyes.
'The tables and chairs are arriving in the next couple of days. We'll need to talk about storage and layout.'
'Sure. Text me.' She swallowed hard, found an indifferent smile from somewhere deep inside, turned and then left.
The walk back to her house had never felt so long or so lonely. Lizzie felt foolish. She'd believed Dan when he'd told her that he didn't want to hide the fact that they'd spent the night together. She'd fallen for it. And then the old girlfriend slips back into town and he fucks her instead, for what – old times' sake? A laugh? Because they were drunk? And he didn't seem to have any qualms about making it public either. It appeared the old Dan McSwaine was back. Congratulations and good luck to him.
If Lizzie could have kicked herself, she would have. What was so mortifying was that she'd willingly joined the queue of women who'd jumped into bed with Dan McSwaine. When he'd turned his emerald eyes on her, she'd folded like a cheap card table.
Worst. Idea. Ever.
She had to put it behind her. Lizzie knew her life would go on. The ebb and flow of her existence in the Point would continue, like the tides, going on day after day, whether Dan was part of it or not. Once they'd finished the pub renovation she could keep her distance from him. That was totally do-able. Except that he was Ry's best friend and she was Julia's. And, oh God, there was a wedding to get through. Lizzie resolved to do a Scarlett O'Hara on that one and think about it tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Not today. Definitely not today.
Lizzie turned the corner into her street and an unfamiliar car in her driveway caught her eye. A big silver four-wheel drive, dulled by a layer of dust and muddy splatters around the wheels. As she got closer she noticed it had New South Wales number plates.
There was no sign of life near it and it was locked. Peering inside, she noticed the detritus of fast-food containers and dead takeaway coffees on the floor. Lizzie decided to pop next door to ask if her keen-eyed and professionally suspicious neighbour had seen anything.
'Harri?' she called at the front door. 'It's me. Someone's parked in my driveway. You got a gentleman caller?'
'I do, doll. Come in and see.' Harri's hip may have been buggered but there was nothing wrong with that booming voice, probably an adapted survival mechanism so she could be heard above all the shouting, deep-voiced blokes in Parliament. Lizzie made her way down the neat as a pin hallway and as she turned into the small, bright room, she stopped. In shock.
Sitting at the table, sipping tea with Harri was her big brother, Joe, waiting with a mischievous smile, watching to see her reaction
'Hey Mosquito. How's life?' Joe pushed his chair back and stood, seeming even taller than she remembered. His sandy-blond hair was cut short and his tanned face grinned back at her. Growing up, they'd always wondered if he'd scored his football player good looks from their father. They would never know.
'Joe?'
'Well, are you going to hug me or not?' When he opened his arms wide, Lizzie ran into his embrace. She threw her arms around him and burst into tears.
'Check it out, Harri.' Joe winked. 'She's obviously thrilled to see me.'
'Stinkface,' Lizzie managed to mumble through her tears.
'Don't stay close too long, Mosquito. I haven't had a shower since Sydney two days ago.'
But Lizzie held on tight anyway, her tears soaking through his shirt, her chest shaking with trembling sobs. Joe looked at Harri with raised eyebrows and the older woman shrugged, as if to say, don't look at me. He patted his sister on the back consolingly.
'You all right, Lizzie?'
'Why don't I put the kettle on?' Harri rose slowly and limped to the stove.
Eventually, Lizzie let go of her brother, pushed herself back to get a decent look at him. She couldn't believe it.
Joe was back in Middle Point.
She had to shake her head a little to let his presence sink in. It seemed like someone, somewhere, had thrown a deck of cards into the air and they were falling in all the wrong places. What the hell was going on in her world?
She sniffed the air, laughter hitching on a sob in her throat. 'You do stink.'
'Thanks.' Joe sat down again.
For a minute, Lizzie simply stared at him. While they talked on the phone regularly, she hadn't seen him in years. Lizzie didn't like to leave Middle Point and his new life in Sydney had kept him there. She knew one thing, though. He looked way older than the headshot the paper used at the top of his column.
Questions began firing out of her mouth like bullets. 'What are you doing here? Why didn't you call and let me know you were coming? How come you've driven for two days straight instead of flying? How long are you here for? And where's Jasmine?'
Joe leaned back in his chair. 'Hey, who's the journo here?'
Lizzie smiled back at him. Harri opened a packet of scotch finger biscuits and the plastic wrap crinkled. She grabbed one for herself, crunched loudly, and pushed the packet towards Joe.
'It's just that … wow,' Lizzie laughed, 'This is such a surprise. A good surprise.'
Joe shrugged his shoulders. 'To tell the truth, it's a bit of a surprise to me, too, Mosquito. I had some leave banked up and I thought, what the hell. I could do with a road trip. So I hopped in the car and, before I knew it, I'd driven right across the Hay Plains and ended up right back here in Middle Point.'
'And Jasmine? She didn't come with you?' Lizzie had expected him to look tired, considering he'd driven the thousands of kilometres from Sydney, but with a little further scrutiny, she decided there was something more than exhaustion in the shadows under his eyes and the three-day growth.
Joe raised a smile and shook his head. 'She couldn't get any leave from work, so she's back in Sydney. She's spending Christmas with her parents and her sister.'
'Oh,' Lizzie managed, 'That's a pity.'
Oh hell, it wasn't a pity at all. No matter how hard she'd tried over the years, she couldn't fake it. She'd never breathed a word to Joe but she'd never liked her sister-in-law. Lizzie had found it hard to warm to her snobby Sydney attitude and had always harboured the suspicion that Jasmine had never liked Middle Point either, which was a definite strike against anybody in Lizzie's books.
'So, Mosquito.' Joe let out a huge sigh and raised his eyebrows in a question. 'You think I can crash at your place for a while?'
Lizzie's heart jumped. 'Really?'
'Yeah.'
'Will you still be here for Christmas? It's only a few weeks away.'
Joe rubbed his jaw. 'Yeah, I thought I might stay until New Year. If that's all right with you?'
'As long as you have a shower, Stinkface, you can stay for as long as you like.' At that moment, all the pain and sadness and regret she'd carried with her into Harri's house vanished. She was going to have Joe home. That was about the best Christmas present she could have hoped for.