Five Years From Now Read online

  ‘He’s seemed kind of down this week,’ I disclose. ‘Not only about his injuries.’

  He shifts uncomfortably.

  ‘What?’ I persist. ‘He’s not properly ill or anything, is he?’

  ‘No.’ He waves me away, then looks across the room to where Nick is collecting empties. Nick walks out of the room in the direction of the kitchen and Max turns back to me.

  ‘He told me about your conversation at the movies,’ he reveals.

  ‘Which part?’ I’m confused.

  ‘About all the girls you think he’s slept with.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ I tut jokily.

  ‘You know he mainly just fools around.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘I bet you could count the girls he’s actually slept with on two hands,’ he continues.

  ‘That’s still quite a lot of digits.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t care?’

  ‘What about Brooke?’ I ask. ‘He shagged her.’

  ‘He never shagged Brooke!’ he scoffs. ‘They kissed!’

  ‘I’m sure she said she slept with him. Why are you telling me all of this, in any case?’

  ‘Because he’s heartbroken over you, Nell! I’ve never seen him like this! Shh, he’s coming back,’ he whispers.

  ‘You guys coming up to mine for a few drinks in a bit?’ Nick asks Max as I scoop my jaw up from the floor.

  ‘Yeah, for sure.’

  Nick glances at me. ‘Nell?’

  ‘Um… okay.’

  Really? What am I doing?

  His corresponding smile is the most genuine I’ve seen all week.

  An hour or so later, I’m sitting next to Nick, my shoes off and my feet tucked up on the sofa. Max is making us all laugh at an anecdote about a junior fireman at work, and the atmosphere is chilled and happy, with Blur playing on the stereo in the background.

  But I feel strangely edgy. Nick’s arm is stretched out behind me on the sofa and he’s been absent-mindedly curling his finger around a lock of my hair for the last few minutes.

  ‘Right,’ Dawn says, slapping Max’s thigh. ‘You’d better take me home to bed before I conk out here.’

  They wearily drag themselves to their feet. This is my cue to leave, too, but I hesitate. Max comes over and bends down to give me a kiss, but I get to my feet to hug Dawn.

  Nick has to go downstairs to let them out of the pub. When he comes back after a couple of minutes, he seems slightly bewildered by the fact that I’m still on his sofa.

  ‘You want another drink?’ he asks.

  ‘Still got one.’ I raise my bottle of cider.

  He returns to sit beside me again, twisting his body to face mine. Impulsively, he reaches out and twirls another lock of my hair around his finger. I lean into his touch and we stare at each other for a long moment.

  My heart flips.

  And then he very slowly leans forward and pauses. I don’t make him wait before meeting him in the middle.

  The sand is pale orange, the colour of the rising sun, and the desert is flecked with shrubs, as if a giant has shaken pepper all over it. Far away in the distance, the horizon fades in the heat haze. Then we see it – the rock – and all the passengers on our side of the plane start chattering excitedly.

  Uluru looks very different from above to how I’d imagined it. The photos I’ve seen made me think it’s narrow and elongated, but actually it’s a squat bulk of sandstone.

  There’s nothing squat about it, however: it stands 348 metres above sea level at its tallest point – that’s higher than the Eiffel Tower.

  Van collects us from the tiny airport. I’ve spent almost five years – maybe even ten – hardening my heart towards him, but it squeezes at the sight of him now.

  The first thing I notice is his hair – it’s cropped short, which makes him appear more grown-up somehow. He’s wearing a yellow T-shirt and dark-grey shorts and his arms are folded, the muscles on his biceps bulging. He comes forward with a grin, embracing Dad first. They hug tightly and his face is full of emotion when he pulls away and turns to me.

  I’m not sure if we’re going to do that awkward, not-touching thing again, but then I’m being crushed against his definitely-quite-a-bit broader chest and, before I can even gather my thoughts together, he’s withdrawing.

  ‘I am so happy to see you guys.’ He gives us a sentimental smile.

  ‘We’re happy to see you, too,’ Dad says in turn, grasping Van’s shoulder and shaking him affectionately.

  Van wants to know all about our trip so far, but more importantly, he wants to be sure Dad is on the mend.

  ‘I’ve never felt better,’ Dad replies.

  Van and I share a look in his rear-view mirror.

  He’s driving a jeep and it suits him, the muscles on his toned, tanned arms flexing as he clutches the steering wheel and navigates us over the bumpy dirt track. He and Sam live in staff accommodation, a few minutes from the resort, but Van is taking us to our hotel so we can check in and freshen up. We’re going to watch the sun set over Uluru later – Sam will meet us there, straight from work. Van has to work tonight so we’ll no doubt be propping up the bar for a bit. At least we’re over the worst of our jet lag – I’ve never felt more out of it in my life and poor Dad was knocked for six. I don’t think we saw the best of Sydney as a result, but luckily we’re passing back through for a few days on our way home.

  I don’t want to make an effort with my appearance that evening, but in the end, I can’t help myself. I’m about to meet Sam – the first girlfriend of Van’s I have ever come face to face with. I don’t know what she looks like, but I’m expecting her to be a stunner. I’m thinking: tall, slim and bronzed, like the girls in the photos from when he was fifteen. I feel as though I need warpaint to give me confidence, so I take more care than usual with my make-up, dabbing golden-brown onto my lids and sweeping a line of black kohl close to my eyelashes. With black mascara, peach blush and sheer lip-gloss, I’m ready.

  The heat from the day is fading, so I take a white cardigan to throw on over my navy sundress. I’ve fastened my still-damp hair into a loose bun on top of my head.

  All of the above does nothing to combat my nerves.

  Dad and Van are sitting on a couple of plastic chairs outside Dad’s room when I emerge. Van’s eyes graze over me before returning to my face.

  ‘Ready?’ he asks with a small smile.

  Half an hour later, the sun has set over Uluru, casting not only the entire rock but the surrounding desert in the most spectacular orangey-red light.

  ‘Here’s Sam,’ Van says, nodding at a dark-blue Honda pulling into the car park. I’ve had a glass of bubbly – Van brought a bottle on ice – and it was giving me a lovely warm buzz, but now I feel sick to my stomach.

  A hand on my arm prompts me to turn sharply towards Dad, who’s gazing at me, his eyes filled with understanding. I step away from him, plastering a smile on my face as Van’s girlfriend climbs out of the car.

  ‘Hi!’ she calls, grinning widely as she approaches us.

  For a moment, I’m struck dumb, and then I come to life. ‘Hi!’ I call back.

  She is nothing like I imagined. Tall, yes, but far from skinny, with long, chunky auburn dreadlocks that tumble halfway down her back. Her skin is light-brown from exposure to the sun and her nose is pierced as well as her eyebrows, and God only knows how many rings are through her ears. She comes over and holds out her hand. I go to shake it and she laughs, pulling it away.

  ‘I’m just fucking with ya, gimme a hug.’ She engulfs me in strong arms and then moves on to Dad.

  Before I came out here, I wasn’t sure what would be worse: hating her or liking her. I think I like her.

  ‘Fuck me, you’re pretty!’ she exclaims, returning to gawp at me. ‘Shit, I really need to stop swearing. Sorry.’ She flashes Dad a repentant look, but he smiles, unfazed.

  Van isn’t fazed, either. I get the feeling he’s quite used to his girlfriend’s bad langu
age.

  There’s something wild and untamed about her. It occurs to me that I once thought the same thing about Van, but right now, he seems almost conservative in comparison.

  My mind is still ticking over with these thoughts when we’re at the bar later, watching Van work. Sam went home to ‘crash out’ and Dad and I retired here to keep Van company. We chat while he takes orders, but the rest of the time I’m distracted watching him. He’s so attentive to the customers, totally focused on what they’re ordering and then scarily speedy and proficient at delivering. I’ve never seen him in a professional capacity before and it’s kind of strange.

  Dad calls it a night after not too long.

  ‘Do you want me to walk you to your room?’ I offer.

  ‘I’m not that old and doddery. I’ll find my way.’ He bends down to kiss me on my forehead, then says goodnight to Van.

  I swivel back in time to see Van topping up my glass with more white wine.

  ‘Thanks.’

  He nods seriously at Dad’s departing back. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘I think so. Tired. He hasn’t fully recovered from it all.’

  His lips are pressed together in a thin, straight line as his eyes follow Dad out of the room. He grabs a cloth from behind the bar and proceeds to polish some wine glasses. There are no customers waiting.

  ‘Sam seems nice,’ I say casually.

  He raises his eyebrows at me, his expression mildly entertained.

  ‘What? She does!’ I exclaim. ‘Why? Isn’t she nice?’ I mock.

  ‘It’s not the first word I’d use to describe her,’ he replies with a smirk.

  I’m intrigued. ‘How would you describe her, then?’

  He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Difficult, probably.’ He grins, reaching for another glass. ‘We have a tumultuous relationship, to say the least. What about you? Anyone significant in your life?’

  ‘Yeah, I kind of am seeing someone.’

  He glances at me, nodding for me to continue.

  ‘You know him. Nick.’ I take a sip of my drink.

  ‘Nick?’ he asks with alarm. He’s still clutching the cloth and a glass, but his hands have stilled. ‘Nick from the pub? Surfing Nick?’

  ‘Yes. Nicholas Castor.’

  ‘Are you shitting me?’

  ‘Nope.’

  He’s reeling.

  I can’t say I blame him. Dad was horrified, too, but he’s come around to the idea now.

  ‘How’s that working out?’ Van asks with a frown.

  ‘All right so far.’

  ‘Is it serious?’

  ‘Ask me again sometime.’ I shrug, but belatedly feel that I’m doing Nick – and possibly myself – a disservice. ‘I don’t know, his mum and Max seem to think it’s the real deal. They encouraged me to give him a go after getting sick of seeing him moping around.’ I’m aiming for flippancy and hope I haven’t come across as conceited.

  There’s a woman waiting down the bar that Van hasn’t even looked at as he’s been so focused on what I’ve been saying. I nod towards her pointedly.

  Van comes out of his stupor and throws his cloth over his shoulder, going to attend to the customer. She’s ordering cocktails for a table of six, so while he gets to work mixing them, I take out my phone to reply to a message I saw earlier from Ellie. She still lives in Newcastle where she and her boyfriend, Liam, went to university. We stay in regular touch by email and text – she wants to know how it’s going in Australia.

  As I’m typing out a message to her, another one comes through. It’s from Nick. I finish replying to Ellie before reading it.

  All it says is: ‘Missing you.’

  Aw. I write back: ‘You getting all sentimental on me, Nicholas Castor?’

  He replies: ‘Might be. What you doing?’

  ‘Sitting at the hotel bar, chatting to Van.’

  ‘Say hi from me.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Nell?’

  ‘Yes? You do realise it costs money every time you send me a text? Make this one good…’ I tease.

  I wait for his reply, but it doesn’t come. I frown and put the phone down, looking up to see Van standing in front of me. He’s polishing another glass, his expression blank. He nods at my phone. ‘Nick?

  ‘Yeah. He says to say hi.’

  My phone buzzes again. I pick it up and my eyes widen as I read what it says.

  ‘Feeling a lot of love for you right now. Wanted to tell you that in person before you left but didn’t want to freak you out. Don’t suppose you can talk?’

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Van asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

  I ignore him and type out a reply, trying to concentrate. He has caught me by surprise, but that’s probably not helped by the company I’m in.

  ‘Can’t at the mo but maybe later?’

  ‘I have freaked you out, haven’t I? Shit.’

  ‘No, you haven’t at all.’ It’s a white lie, but I don’t want to hurt him. I do care for him. Quite a lot, as it turns out. I still have my doubts, of course – a leopard can’t change his spots overnight and all that. But I do like his company, he does make me laugh, and he is stupidly good in bed. That’s three good reasons right there to give it a shot.

  ‘Van standing in front of me,’ I add.

  ‘Ask him what the hell he’s doing so far from the surf?’

  I show Van the message and he grins. ‘Tell him I need to get my head read.’

  I sign off my reply with a kiss and a promise that I’ll ring him later. God only knows how much that phone call will cost.

  ‘So… Nick Castor, eh?’ Van says drily, folding his arms across his chest. The action makes his biceps strain against the fabric of his long-sleeve white shirt uniform. ‘Who would’ve thought?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened,’ I reply with a smile.

  Closing time is upon us before we know it, so I gather my things together and wait out by the swimming pool while Van finishes up and says goodnight to his boss.

  ‘Will you come for a drive with me?’ he asks when he appears. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’

  ‘Okay.’ I nod. ‘Sure.’

  His jeep is parked at a place called Yulara, where the 750 staff members live, and as we walk there, he tells me about life at the ‘Gregory’s’ – the name for the dorm-room accommodation that he and Sam share with two other girls. They each only have a single bed with one tiny bathroom and kitchen between them, so things can be a bit fraught at times, especially between Sam and one of their roommates. The staff aren’t allowed to hang out in the tourist areas, but they have their own swimming pools, plus the ‘ressies’ – residents club – where a big chunk of their earnings is spent on booze. It doesn’t sound like there’s a lot to do out of hours, aside from playing pool and drinking, but his co-workers are a young, fun crowd and Van says he’s made a few friends.

  After about twenty minutes on the road, we pull off the asphalt onto a bumpy dirt track. Five minutes later, Van cuts the engine and hops out. ‘Come on,’ he says, getting something from the back seat.

  I climb out of the jeep into pitch-blackness. ‘Van?’

  ‘Up here.’

  Is he on the roof? He taps the side of the vehicle to orientate me and I follow the noise, coming to what feels like a ladder at the back. I climb up one rung and then a warm, strong hand fixes around my arm and helps me the rest of the way. He’s brought cushions and blankets and we spend a short while getting comfortable, before…

  ‘Look up,’ he says.

  I tilt my face up to the sky and billions of stars blink back at me. It’s the biggest, brightest night sky I have ever seen.

  ‘Wow,’ I whisper reverently.

  We lie down, so close that our arms are touching. ‘Are you warm enough?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes, fine.’ Forget the blankets, he’s like a radiator, with the body heat coming off him.

  ‘One thing I noticed after a few days of living here is how alive
the desert is, despite seeming dormant at first,’ he tells me. ‘You won’t notice it where you are at the resort because there’s always someone to sweep the paths and stuff, but where we live, the sands are always there.’

  ‘Have you seen many spiders?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Mostly huntsmans.’

  I shudder and edge closer.

  He chuckles. ‘They’re huge, but harmless, apart from giving you a heart attack. The best thing I’ve seen has been a thorny devil.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A lizard. They have spines all over their bodies and they drink with their feet.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘Apparently, they stand in a puddle and the water moves up by capillary action along grooves to the corner of their mouths. I saw this little guy on my way home from work one day and he looked up at me – he was so inquisitive, a real character. If you didn’t need a licence to own one, I would’ve been tempted to take him back to my dorm.’

  I smile. ‘So you like working here?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s all right. It’s a change from tuna fishing. I’d been doing that for a few years so it was getting a bit tired.’

  ‘I still remember you telling us about it when we were at the pub that time. I was so angry with Joel that night.’

  ‘Yeah, he was a bit of a dick.’

  I snort with amusement.

  ‘You guys broke up soon after, right?’

  I tense, remembering the guilt I’d felt that contributed to me ending it. If you really like someone, you don’t kiss somebody else. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  What for? For causing the guilt? I decide not to ask.

  It’s the last thing either of us says for a while.

  ‘How’s your mum these days?’ His voice punctuates the darkness.

  ‘Hmm.’ My response is dry. ‘I haven’t seen her in a couple of years.’

  ‘Seriously?’ He sounds surprised.

  ‘We fell out when Dad was having his treatment,’ I reveal.

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ He sounds concerned.

  ‘It’s not like we were close before, but she was so unsupportive. She could’ve called to check on how Dad was doing, or how I was doing, but I was always the one to make contact. One day I stopped ringing her. I guess her selfishness finally got to me. We hardly ever speak now. I don’t feel compelled to go and visit her in New York and she sure isn’t bothered about coming to see me.’