Someone Like You(42)

     



 

He would say goodbye to the city and make Middle Point his home.

For good.

With any luck, a home with Lizzie in it.

Lizzie checked her watch and padded barefoot to the kitchen. Five  minutes to eight. Just enough time to slip on her sandals, kick Joe out  for the night and spritz perfume on her neck and wrists. It would be  fair to say she'd gone to a little trouble to look good. She'd carefully  chosen white three-quarter length pants and topped them with a plain  white singlet top, which hugged her curves and made her booty feel damn  bootylicious. Around her neck hung an apple-green chunky-beaded necklace  that draped down into the swell of her breasts, and matching beads  dangled from her ears. It was dress-up Middle Point style, beachy and  relaxed, crisp and fresh.

At the sound of her footsteps, Joe looked up from the kitchen table where he sat reading the local newspaper.

'Nice,' he said with a whistle and a reluctant smile in his eyes. Lizzie  stopped in her tracks. She'd hardly seen such an expression from him  lately. Come to think of it, she'd hardly seen him at all in the past  week. This was her first day off since Christmas Day and, with the  tourist season in full swing, she'd barely had time to shave her legs,  much less spend quality time with Stinkface.

Lizzie widened her eyes dramatically and took a mocking look around the  room. 'Are you talking to little old me?' She fluttered a hand to her  chest and shrugged her shoulders.

'Yeah, Mosquito.'

'Bloody hell, Joe. I reckon that's the first compliment you've ever  given me. And it's only taken you-what-your whole life? You must be  getting soft in your old age.' She'd meant it as a joke, but judging  from his reaction, Joe hadn't taken it that way. He heaved a huge sigh,  placed his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands.

'Joe?' Lizzie edged towards him, suddenly nervous.

'Shit, Lizzie. I'm also getting useless in my old age.'

A ripple of fear shivered through her. She'd had enough bad news in her  life to read the signs. Something was coming. Her heart began to race  and thump in her chest.

'Joe … what's going on?'

'Have a seat, Lizzie,' he said quietly.

Oh God. The nausea of her recent and humiliating hangover had nothing on  this. This was stomach-clenching fear. Lizzie pulled out a chair and  sat. It all felt like slow motion. For a few moments, Joe said nothing,  just stared down at the wooden table, tracing his fingers in a  never-ending circle.

Finally he looked up. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

'I've got some news.'

Her words tumbled out urgently without thought, without hesitation.  'Jesus, Joe, you're not sick are you?' Lizzie's most primal fear voiced  itself in that one sentence. They'd lost their grandmother and their  mother to illness. To cancer.

He shook his head. 'No, it's not that. Thank God it's not that.'

'Then what, Joe?' She reached across the table to cover his fist with her fingers.

'How's this for a story. "Leading Sydney newsman loses job comma wife".'

'Joe … ' Lizzie brought her other hand to her mouth in disbelief. 'Oh no … '

'You are looking at an ex-journalist. No one reads newspapers anymore.  It's been coming for a while and one month ago I was handed the DCM.'  Joe ran his hand over his face, slumped again.

'The DC what?'

'The 'don't come Monday'. Twelve of us were made redundant on the one  day.' Joe took a deep breath. 'And when I told Jasmine, she considered  it for about ten seconds and decided she didn't want to be married to me  anymore.'

Lizzie tried to cling to some vestige of hope, for her brother's sake,  even thought she'd never liked the, ahem, North Shore whore.

'Joe, she'll change her mind. I know she will. She's probably back there  now, kicking herself for having walked out on one of the most handsome  and talented men in Sydney. You'll see.'

Joe shot her a look, a dark flash in his eyes. 'Here's another headline  for you, Mosquito. "Wife found in bed with husband's best mate".'

'Oh shit.' Fresh tears welled in Lizzie's eyes. 'So you've come back here to … '

'Hide, basically. I hung around Sydney for as long as I could bear it.  Then I ran. From all of it.' Joe raked a hand through his hair. 'I just  got in the car and drove.'

'Oh, Joe.'

'And I don't know if I can go back.'

Lizzie sighed, felt the tears spill down her cheeks. 'I think this calls for a drink.'         

     



 

Just after eight o'clock Dan walked up Lizzie's driveway, smiling at the  pink flamingos. There was no doubt about it. They were kind of weird.  He'd brought with him a second bottle of that fancy French champagne  he'd given her for Christmas, figuring, hoping, one might not be enough.  Maybe they could start a new tradition to kick off this particular  year. He smiled at the idea as he looked back at the broad sweep of her  view.

From this elevated position on the rise behind the point, he could see  for miles and miles. It was still light out, the sun low in the west,  but night hadn't quite fallen yet. Purple and indigo streaked the vast  sky and Norfolk Island pines formed silhouettes in the distance. He was  starting to understand the pull of the place and the thought made him  grin.

From inside, a lamp was shining in one corner of the living room and he  could make out the shapes of two people. He didn't need to look twice to  know that one was Lizzie. The other being the brother. Couldn't the guy  take a damn hint and leave? Dan knew he'd have to get used to him,  since he was planning on having a future with Lizzie, but there was  something about him. Dan always sensed a barely hidden undercurrent of  mean in Joe, something just waiting to blow if the wrong person  scratched the surface. It put Dan on edge.

Since he was used to the Middle Point way of doing things by now, he  didn't bother knocking, simply pulled the screen door open and stepped  inside.

Where he found Lizzie standing in the kitchen, the light of the fridge  shining on her face, which was ghostly white and wet with tears. His  heart thudded into overdrive and he almost threw the champagne on the  table as he stalked across the room to her.

'Jesus, Elizabeth, what the hell's wrong?' Before he could blink, he'd  thrown his arms around her, clutching her to him, feeling her heart  beating wildly against his chest. Over her blonde hair, he saw Joe, his  back to both of them, staring out the double glass doors, past the deck  and into the distance. Without acknowledging Dan or even looking back,  Joe slowly slid one side open, stepped out onto the deck, and closed it  behind him with a squeaky shudder.

Lizzie's sobs racked her frame and her sad tears wet Dan's shirt. He  brought one hand up and stroked her hair, trying to comfort her, and he  realised that trying to soothe her, console her, was suddenly the most  important thing in the world to him.

'Elizabeth,' he whispered into her hair, the smell of fresh flowers and  shampoo, so Lizzie, assaulting his senses. 'C'mon now, can't you tell me  what's the matter?'

'Dan,' and she sniffed, stifled a sob, held on to him harder, her arms  around his waist now, their bodies squeezed tight against each other.  'It's Joe,' she mumbled into his shirt.

'What did he do?' Dan's voice came out in a harsh command.

Lizzie stiffened and let go of him, wriggling out of his hold. She  flattened her palms on his chest and pushed, creating a distance between  them. When she looked up into his face, her eyes were ice-cold.

'He didn't do anything. Something's happened to him.'

Dan swore to himself. He wasn't a totally cold-hearted son of a bitch,  no matter what he thought of the brother. 'Is he all right?' he asked  reluctantly.

Lizzie looked over to the silhouette of her brother on the deck, almost a  shadow now in the fading light. 'His life's gone to hell in a  hand-basket. That's why he's back here in Middle Point.' She turned back  to Dan. 'And the worst thing? He's kept it a secret for months. He  didn't want to quote unquote burden me with the truth. Can you believe  that? I'm his sister, for fuck's sake. I'm the only one he has left and  he couldn't even tell me?'

Dan felt an icy chill up his back. Maybe he had more in common with the  brother than he realised. 'What exactly happened to him, Lizzie?'

'It's not my story to tell, Dan. Not yet.' She rubbed her palms over her  eyes. 'I can't do tonight. I'm so sorry.' Lizzie allowed herself a  sombre nod, hugged herself tight. 'I have to spend some time with him.  He needs someone to talk to.'

Dan got it. He knew how important it was to her to have Joe back. After  all she'd been through, all she'd lost, he understood that she wanted to  hang on to what family she had left.

'We'll raincheck the champagne. You need to be with your brother now.'

For a long moment, Lizzie simply looked at him. Her lips were parted  slightly, as if there were words there that she was trying to say. Then  she heaved a huge sigh.
         

     



 
'Our timing is terrible,' she whispered.

From somewhere deep inside, Dan summoned the strength to leave her. At  the threshold, he turned back for one more look. 'You know where I am.  And I'll be waiting.'