Five Years From Now Page 16

  Dad waits until the waitress has poured our champagne before passing me an envelope. ‘Another birthday present for you,’ he says. ‘Oh, and it’s also an early Christmas one for me,’ he adds cryptically.

  Intrigued, I carefully open the envelope and pull out several pieces of white card. I turn them over and freeze at the sight of the red QANTAS logo in the corner. Tickets. To Australia.

  ‘What are these?’ I’m still not really sure what I’m seeing.

  ‘I’ve never been to Australia,’ he says. ‘I’ve always wanted to go. If the last few years have taught me anything, it’s that life is too short. I’d like to do these things while I’m young enough to enjoy them and there’s no one I would rather go with than my beloved daughter.’ His eyes are shining as he covers my hand with his, prompting my throat to swell.

  I look down at the tickets again and notice the date. ‘Is that the first of this November?’ I ask with alarm. ‘As in, a fortnight away?’

  ‘Yes. I know you’ll need to take time off work, but I did run it past Christopher and Theresa first. They said it won’t be a problem – they’re happy for you to go.’

  I wonder if Nick knows…

  ‘I’m paying for everything,’ Dad states adamantly as I shake my head in protest. ‘No, Nelly, I won’t hear of it,’ he cuts me off. ‘This is my treat. I’ve got it all planned. Van has helped me. We’re going to fly into Sydney and spend a few days there…’

  He continues to elaborate, but my head is stuck at Van.

  ‘…visit Van at Uluru…’

  ‘Sorry?’ I interrupt as I hear this last part. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said we’ll go and visit Van at Uluru. You know, Ayers Rock, where he’s working now. Then he’ll come with us to Adelaide and on to Port Lincoln where we’ll spend some time with his dad. It’ll be good to get to know John properly,’ Dad says. ‘I wasn’t really with it when he came over fifteen years ago.’

  That was the last – and only – time we met Van’s dad, when he flew over after Ruth’s death to take Van home with him.

  ‘So what do you think?’ he asks. ‘Will you come?’

  This is clearly something he’s wanted to do for a long time.

  I place my hands on his shoulders. ‘Are you kidding, Dad? Of course I’ll come. I can’t wait.’ I lean in to give him a hug, hoping that some of the peace and happiness emanating from him will rub off on me.

  ‘What is Van up to these days?’ Nick asks the next day at work. He did know about the trip, as it turns out. He struggled to shut up about it.

  ‘He works at a resort in Uluru. He’s just a bartender—’

  ‘Just a bartender?’ Nick interrupts. ‘Is there anything wrong with just being a bartender?’ He waves his hands to denote the area he’s standing behind. I’m perched on a stool in front of him. It’s too early for the lunch crowd so we’ve got time for a chat.

  ‘You know what I mean. Anyway, you’re not just a bartender. You practically run this place.’

  ‘I won’t tell my parents you said that.’

  My eyebrows jump up. ‘No, don’t.’

  He smirks at me and turns on the coffee machine. ‘You want one?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Yeah, so Van…’ he prompts.

  ‘He’s a bartender – no “justs” about it,’ I chirp. ‘His girlfriend, Sam, works at the rock’s cultural centre with the aboriginal artists. She’s an artist herself.’

  Van and I email each other occasionally. I sent him one a couple of days ago to wish him a happy birthday.

  Nick places a latte in front of me.

  ‘Thanks.’ My favourite. ‘It was Sam’s idea to go,’ I say with a shrug. ‘I get the feeling Van is smitten with this one. I think he’d follow her pretty much anywhere.’

  I might sound indifferent, but it’s only because I’ve learned to ignore the sting. And I’ve come to accept that it will probably always sting. I doubt I’ll ever stop feeling a bit sore where Van’s concerned, but the pain is manageable.

  It was Dad’s illness that brought Van and me back together. I had to call Van to tell him that Dad had cancer and I think it put things into perspective for both of us. We never talked about what happened – neither when we were fifteen nor twenty – but we both seemed to make a decision to put the past behind us and move on. As Dad said, life is too short. It was time to try to be friends, like we’d said we would. We’ve been okay ever since.

  ‘You wanna come and see Fight Club tonight at the cinema?’ Nick asks casually. It’s Friday night, and by a rare miracle, neither of us is working.

  ‘Brad Pitt?’ I grin. ‘Hell, yeah! Wait. Is this a date?’ I ask warily.

  ‘Would it matter if it was?’

  ‘I thought you didn’t do dates, Nicholas Castor.’

  He clutches his chest and turns away, shaking his head. ‘It’s the way you say my name,’ he mutters melodramatically.

  I can’t help but laugh and he flashes me a grin, turning back to lean over the counter, his elbows propped on top. ‘So? Wanna come?’

  ‘Only because it’s Brad,’ I state. ‘Not because it’s you.’

  I call Dad to let him know I won’t be needing a lift. Now that he’s not working, he’s sort of enlisted himself as my personal driver – we only have the one car between us and he seems to like ferrying me around. I already feel a bit weird, living with my dad at my age, so having him drive me, too, makes me feel even more of a teenager. But, hey ho, it makes him happy.

  ‘How many girls do you reckon you’ve shagged?’ I ask Nick when we’re comfortably seated in the cinema.

  ‘What?’ He coughs up a kernel of popcorn.

  ‘You heard.’

  ‘How many girls have I shagged?’ He repeats my question with disbelief.

  ‘Yeah. I don’t care, I’m just interested.’ I cast him a sideways look and snigger at how uncomfortable he looks. ‘Are you blushing?’ I ask with delight. ‘That’s hilarious. Go on, have a guess. How many? Fifty, sixty, a hundred?’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ he erupts. ‘How much of a slag do you think I am?’

  I’m taken aback. ‘What? Not that many?’

  ‘Nowhere near that many!’ he exclaims.

  ‘But you’re always on the pull!’

  ‘I haven’t pulled a girl in weeks! Months!’

  ‘Haven’t you?’ I’m surprised.

  ‘No! Jesus,’ he mutters.

  The room goes dark and a hush falls over the audience.

  I lean in closer, curious. ‘But all those girls on holiday?’ I whisper.

  He frowns. ‘What are you going on about?’

  ‘Every summer, you used to have a different girl. Your relationships would never last longer than two or three weeks, depending on how long they were here for. Drew told me—’

  ‘Drew?’ he snorts. ‘Cheeky sod. What did he tell you?’

  ‘About the holiday flings. About what a commitment-phobe you were when it came to anything lasting.’

  ‘He was only trying to put you off me.’

  ‘Eh?’ I frown at him. ‘Why?’

  ‘He had the major hots for you. You must’ve known that.’

  ‘Yeah, I did. Kind of.’ I shrug. ‘But he got over it long before he started going out with Deborah.’

  ‘That’s right.’ He nods, remembering Drew’s girlfriend from years past. He’s still with Charli, the girl he met at university.

  ‘What went on with you and Drew?’ Nick sounds confused. ‘I thought you liked him, too, at one point.’

  ‘I did,’ I reply carefully.

  ‘He thought he’d screwed up that time you and Van came surfing with us and you were stressed about Van getting hurt. He was sure you blamed him for it.’

  I shake my head. ‘No, it wasn’t that.’

  ‘Actually,’ he says with a grin, ‘that was the day he also started thinking that you might have a crush on me. He banned me from hitting on you after that.’

  ‘Did he
?’ I giggle. ‘That’s so funny. Have you told him you’ve since dragged me up to your man-cave and had your wicked way with me?’

  Nick cracks up laughing and the people in front of us turn around to glare.

  ‘Sorry,’ I whisper an apology.

  ‘It’s only the trailers,’ he chides, but he does lower his voice when he answers me. ‘No, I haven’t. He’s back at Christmas. Maybe I’ll break it to him, then.’

  ‘Why bother? It ain’t happening again,’ I say facetiously.

  That’s the last thing that gets said before the film starts.

  Nick is not at work the next day – he’s gone surfing with Max – and I find myself missing his banter. He was quiet when he dropped me home last night – like, weirdly quiet. Not on a Dad or Van level, but for Nick it was definitely out of the ordinary.

  Theresa comes over for a chat after the lunchtime rush has passed, before the early birds appear for dinner.

  ‘How was the film?’ she asks with a smile.

  She’s lovely, Theresa. I’ve always liked her. We’re about the same height – her boys tower over both of us – but she’s quite voluptuous, with long, dark hair that she usually wears down. She’s glamorous, but warm with it, not aloof or in any way full of herself. And she has her sons’ eyes: Castor bottle-green.

  ‘Brilliant,’ I answer her question. ‘Very entertaining. You can’t really go wrong when it comes to Brad Pitt with his top off.’

  ‘Did Nick enjoy it?’ she asks.

  ‘I think so. Not for the same reasons as me, though.’

  She gives me an appraising look and I’m curious to know what she’s thinking.

  ‘I shouldn’t interfere,’ she starts to say, and that little voice inside my head goes, Uh-oh. ‘But you do know that boy is smitten with you?’ she finishes.

  I stare at her, agog.

  ‘I haven’t seen him like this before,’ she divulges, clearly in two minds about whether or not to say anything. ‘He’s a different person on the days you’re not working.’

  ‘In what way?’ I ask warily.

  ‘He’s like a bear with a sore head,’ she reveals.

  ‘You mean he’s even worse when I’m not working?’ I say with alarm. Jesus. The poor staff.

  ‘Oh, sweetie.’ She gives me an indulgent smile. ‘He only gives you a hard time because he’s trying to get your attention. Maybe “Bear” is the wrong analogy. Meek as a mouse might be more apt.’ She gives me a helpless shrug. ‘I know I’m his mum and I should stay out of it, but I’ve known you for a long time, Nell, and I love you to bits. You’re such a good girl. He’d kill me if he knew we were having this conversation, but I hope you don’t write him off. He’s done a lot of silly things over the years, but if you could find it in your heart to give him a chance, I think he might surprise you.’

  I don’t even know what to say once she’s finished spilling her son’s secrets.

  She pats my shoulder and leaves me to ponder her words. And ponder them I do.

  ‘What happened?’ I hear Theresa cry later that afternoon.

  I look over to see Nick hobbling through the door on Max’s arm.

  ‘Wiped out on the reef at Porthleven,’ Nick mutters miserably as I hurry out from behind the bar. ‘It was so fricking stupid. I wasn’t concentrating.’

  His right foot is swollen and his face is very pale, his hair still damp from the ocean.

  ‘Can you help him upstairs, Max?’ I ask. ‘I’ll go and ask Tristan for some frozen peas.’

  Nick is on the sofa when I enter his apartment, his foot propped up on the coffee table in front of him.

  ‘It’s all right, mate, you go,’ Nick urges Max.

  ‘I’m late for work,’ Max tells me with regret. He’s a fireman.

  When Max has gone, I grab a cushion from the sofa and carefully place it and a bag of frozen peas beneath Nick’s foot. I lie another bag across his ankle.

  His face creases with agony as he thanks me.

  ‘Can I get you anything?’ I ask sympathetically. ‘A cup of tea?’

  ‘That would be great, actually.’

  I go into his kitchen. It’s clean and tidy, save for a mug and a dirty bowl in the sink, with cereal bits glued to its side. There’s a tiny window looking right out across the thatched rooftops of neighbouring cottages to the river in the distance. The view from his living room is even lovelier, stretching past the moored sailing boats in the water to the bank on the other side.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ I call through to him.

  ‘No, but don’t trouble yourself.’

  ‘It’ll take me two secs.’ I open his fridge and peer in, grabbing cheese, ham, butter and pickle. I whip him up a quick toastie, then carry it through with his cup of tea.

  His eyes are closed, but he opens them when he hears my footsteps. ‘Thanks, Nell,’ he murmurs as I pass him a couple of painkillers I found in his kitchen drawer.

  ‘Is there anything else I can do?’ I ask with concern.

  ‘Can you call Jack and see if he can cover me tonight and tomorrow?’

  ‘I can cover you,’ I say. ‘I need the extra spending money for Australia.’

  ‘Are you sure? You’ve been here all day.’

  ‘Yes, totally sure. Anything else?’

  ‘Come check on me later?’

  ‘That goes without saying.’

  I pop in a couple of times, and at the end of the night, I find him fast asleep on the sofa. He stirs and opens his eyes. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Want some help getting to bed?’

  He smirks at me.

  ‘I’m glad to see you’ve still got a sense of humour.’

  ‘Actually, I need the loo first.’ He holds his hand out to me and I help him to his feet. We start hobbling together towards the bathroom, but then he stops short, breathing in sharply and wincing, his hand clutching his side. I stare at him with alarm and then lift his T-shirt – his ribs are black and blue!

  ‘Jesus, Nick! What the hell?’

  He ignores me, recommencing his journey.

  ‘You should see a doctor.’

  ‘It’s fine. I just need a couple of days to rest up.’

  ‘Bloody surfers,’ I mutter. ‘I don’t know why you take the risk.’

  ‘We’re all a bunch of junkies.’

  ‘Yeah, I know it’s addictive.’ I shake my head despairingly and leave him at the bathroom door. When he comes out, I help him to bed. Will he manage with his jeans?

  He sees me dithering. ‘I’ll be fine, Nell. Get home, you must be knackered.’

  ‘Okay.’ I hesitate. ‘You sure you’re going to be all right in the night?’

  ‘Why, you offering to stay?’

  His eyebrows lift with surprise when I don’t immediately answer.

  ‘Do you want me to? I could kip on the sofa. I’ve got to be back here in the morning, anyway.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  I shrug, uncertainly. He stares at me for a long moment, then jerks his chin towards the empty space beside him. ‘Sleep next to me.’

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  ‘I promise I’ll keep my hands off,’ he says. ‘Unless you don’t want me to,’ he adds with a playful grin.

  I roll my eyes and send Dad a text, explaining why I won’t be home tonight.

  Sunlight is streaming through the tiny picture window in the eaves of Nick’s bedroom when I wake up. He’s asleep beside me and I stare at him for a moment, studying the fan-shape made by his eyelashes. They’re darker than the rest of his hair – more brown, less golden. The stubble coming through on his jaw is dark-blond, and I have a weird inclination to run my fingertips over it. He really is a very attractive guy.

  I slept surprisingly well, considering I’m in a strange bed. I must’ve been exhausted after the double shift.

  My phone buzzes on the bedside table. It’s a text from Dad: ‘You be careful.’

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Nick murmurs from beside me.

  I glance at
him. ‘Dad, warning me to be wary of big, bad men.’

  ‘Does he place me in that class?’ He sounds startled, his voice thick with sleep.

  ‘He’s always placed you in that class. Your reputation precedes you, Nicholas Castor.’

  I’m smiling, but he isn’t.

  ‘Okay, I’ve changed my mind. I actually don’t like it when you say my name like that.’ He turns his face towards the ceiling in a sulk.

  ‘I’m just kidding.’ I think I’ve hurt his feelings. ‘I’ll make you some breakfast and then I’ll go home for a quick shower.’ I swing my legs off his bed. ‘Don’t want any of the staff to think I’ve been shagging you again.’

  ‘God forbid,’ he replies drily.

  A couple of days later, I come into work early to find Nick sitting at a table by the window, paperwork surrounding him. He’s staring out of the glass at the view. He hasn’t noticed me yet, and I’m stumped by the look on his face. He seems so desperately sad.

  ‘Morning,’ I say at last, trying to inject some cheer.

  He looks my way, his lips turning up at the corners, but the sadness lingering in his eyes.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

  ‘Yep.’ He glances down at his paperwork. ‘Catching up on some stuff.’

  ‘You need anything?’

  ‘No, I’m all right, thanks,’ he replies in a subdued tone.

  My brow furrows as I leave him to it.

  Max comes in with his girlfriend, Dawn, on Friday night. We’re crazy busy, but they head to the bar area after their meal and, once things have calmed down, I go over to say hi.

  I like Dawn – she has a heart of gold and the most raucous cackle of a laugh. She works at the pub across the river and Nick accuses her of being a spy every time she comes in here. It’s all in jest – he adores her, really. His mate has been seeing her for about a year now and Nick is convinced she’s the one.

  ‘Is Nick all right?’ I ask Max when Dawn has gone to the bathroom.

  ‘In what way?’ He’s shorter and stockier than Nick, a bit more average-looking, but when he grins, his whole face transforms. He’s not grinning now.