The Sun in Her Eyes Page 8

  From the way we’ve been getting at each other recently, he probably expected me to tell him to have fun in a voice laced with sarcasm. But I’m already acting like a hypocrite. I’m trying not to sound like one, too.

  Ned doesn’t know a whole lot about Ethan. He knows we’re old friends – I said so when I introduced them at our wedding. Prior to that, I had kept mentions of his name to a minimum. I wasn’t trying to keep Ethan, or even my feelings for him, a secret, although in hindsight it would certainly look that way to Ned if he ever found out. It just hurt to talk about him, that was all.

  The morning after our wedding when we were dissecting the previous day’s events, Ned asked if anything had ever gone on between the two of us. I liked being able to reply with an honest no.

  I know I should put distance between Ethan and me, but I can’t bear to lose another person I care about.

  ‘What time’s your flight?’ I ask my husband.

  ‘In forty minutes. We’re heading to the gate now.’

  ‘Are you with Zara?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is it just the two of you?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes,’ he replies.

  We both fall silent. I hear Ned say, ‘I’ll catch you up,’ and then he comes back on the line.

  ‘I love you,’ he says firmly, louder now into the receiver. ‘You have nothing to worry about.’

  I take a deep breath and shakily exhale.

  ‘Amber?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I love you,’ he says again. ‘I’ll call you from New York.’

  ‘Okay.’ I close my eyes. ‘I love you, too. Be safe.’

  As we hang up, I can’t help but wonder if I’m losing him, too.

  Last night, while I was lying in bed, I tried to recall a long-forgotten memory. I wasn’t after anything in particular. It didn’t have to feature Mum. It didn’t even have to be from when I was small. I just wanted something new, something I hadn’t remembered before.

  I don’t know how the idea of this strange exercise came to me – it was probably something to do with the mess on the floor from the boxes that I’d had to tipsily navigate. I fell asleep before I could come up with anything.

  But as I stand and survey the state of my room now, a towel wrapped around my still-damp body, the same exercise plays on my mind.

  Is it possible to dig a new memory out of the depths of my brain?

  Liz will go nuts if she comes home and sees that I haven’t tidied up. The thought gives me a tiny dart of pleasure, but even I can’t live like this. I almost slip on one of the photo albums on my way to the wardrobe, so when I’m dressed I begin to pack the contents back into the boxes. Maybe I will give some of the toys away to charity. I cast Lambert a sorrowful look. He’s still lying on my pillow after sleeping with me last night. I’m going to be thirty in a few weeks and I’m still finding solace in a stuffed animal. How sad is that?

  Whatever, I’m keeping Lambert, and that is final.

  I only manage to pack away my schoolbooks and a few of my posters before Bruce arrives. The PlayStation box is still in the hall where Ethan left it last night. I hope he comes back soon to set it up. I wouldn’t have a clue where to start.

  Last night we sat talking until last orders. I lost count of how many whiskies Ethan drank. I wonder how he’s feeling today.

  When Bruce is well under way with his tasks, I decide to give him a call.

  ‘A,’ he says upon answering.

  ‘You sound rough,’ I tell him, sliding my back down the wall until my bum lands on the wooden hall floor with a bump.

  ‘You can hear that with just one letter of the alphabet?’

  ‘I could,’ I reply with a smile. ‘And now you’ve confirmed it. Are you at work?’

  ‘Just opening up,’ he tells me.

  ‘If I’d drunk as much as you last night, I think I’d puke at the sight of alcohol this morning.’

  ‘Thanks for that, Amber.’

  Despite his tone, it gives me a thrill to hear him say my name.

  ‘Do you want to catch a movie or something this weekend?’ I ask.

  ‘That’d be great,’ he replies.

  I mentally squash my heart back to its normal size as we say goodbye and end the call.

  Out of the blue, I think of the movie nights that they used to hold in Ethan’s local town hall. Three films in a row, all old releases, and we’d sit on fold-down, hard-backed chairs that made our bums go numb. We’d buy jelly snakes, popcorn and Coke during the intervals, but we never made it through the third film, choosing instead to sneak off to the big water tower on the opposite side of town. We’d climb the ladder, ignoring the Keep Off signs, and sit at the top, watching the sun sink below the horizon as we scoffed the last of our sweets. Then we’d climb back down and run breathlessly back to the town hall before Ethan’s mum or dad came to collect us and discovered we were missing.

  I hadn’t forgotten that memory, but I’m intrigued to see if there’s a part of it, an extra detail, that I haven’t thought of since. I close my eyes and try to think really, really hard.

  The cracks on the old floorboards…

  The damp, musty smell of the big hall…

  The heavy red-velvet stage curtains that were used for local dance performances…

  The dark corridor that led to the smelly bathrooms…

  The broken light bulb in the corridor… And that sudden small memory sparks another: Ethan sauntering into the hall with a smirk on his face. I was chatting to his old flame, Ellie Pennell, admiring her perfectly painted nails and the tan I could never hope to compete with, when Ethan said, ‘How many mice does it take to screw in a light bulb?’

  We stared at him in confusion, so he continued.

  ‘Two. The hard part is getting them in the light bulb.’

  My eyes spring open and I laugh out loud, just like Ellie and I did back then. I’ve done it. I’ve uncovered a new memory, something I haven’t thought about for years. How irrational that I should feel so oddly jubilant.

  Chapter 11

  Halfway through the following week, I answer the door to Nell to see her looking thoroughly fed up. Uh-oh, I know this look…

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask with concern, faltering as I make a move to step over the threshold.

  ‘Julian’s just cancelled on me,’ she replies, confirming my suspicions.

  We’re heading up to the hills for dinner at Ethan’s parents’ house. I’m both excited and nervous at the prospect of seeing Ruth and Tony again after so many years – the last time I saw them was before I went backpacking, when Ethan invited me over for a farewell dinner. They were on holiday when Ned and I got married.

  I remember Sadie turning up at some point over the course of the dinner, claiming to have forgotten I was going to be there. Ruth being Ruth invited her to join us, but I felt nowhere near as relaxed afterwards. Sadie used to stake her claim on Ethan with as much intent as a vampire hunter would on a vampire.

  ‘Oh no,’ I say to Nell. ‘Why?’

  ‘Said he was tired,’ she mumbles. ‘He went out last night with his mates after work, even though I reminded him about tonight.’

  ‘That’s annoying,’ I empathise. ‘He couldn’t be persuaded?’

  ‘No. I should have known he’d drop out when he told me he didn’t like wine.’

  ‘Well, I like wine. So you can have a few drinks with me instead,’ I say, trying to cheer her up as I pull the door shut behind me.

  ‘That’s the worst part,’ she says as we walk down the garden path. ‘He was supposed to drive.’

  Now I feel her pain. ‘Damn!’

  ‘Exactly.’ She gives me a wry look as we reach her car at the roadside.

  ‘Hang on.’ I hold my hand up, trying to think of a way out of this very sorry situation before she climbs in the driver’s seat. Got it. ‘I’ll drive,’ I tell her decisively.

  She pulls a face. ‘How is that any better?’

  ‘I’ll drive, we’l
l leave my car up there, catch a taxi home, I can get a lift with Liz in the morning to the hospital, you can catch a taxi or the bus here to pick up your car, and I’m sure Ethan will be able to drop mine home in the next couple of days. If not, I’ll catch the bus or another taxi to his.’

  ‘Or I’ll give you a lift up there,’ she says, somehow managing to follow my convoluted plan.

  ‘Sorted!’ We grin at each other and I nip back inside to grab my car keys, inwardly laughing at how determined we must both be to enjoy tonight’s wine tasting, considering the faff it’s going to be, transport-wise.

  It’s a warm night, but Ethan said we’ll be eating outside so I’m wearing smart jeans and a long-sleeved, sheer black blouse which I hope will fend off the mozzies. I’m also bringing a jacket, in case it’s cold later.

  Nell’s curly chestnut hair is cascading down her back and she’s wearing a floral summer dress teamed with cowboy boots. She grabs her jacket and bag from the car and we get going.

  I’ve always loved the drive up the winding roads into the Adelaide Hills. The early evening sun is still beating down with ferocity from the cloudless blue sky and the smell of eucalyptus trees fills the car through our open windows. We turn up the music and sing along at the top of our voices to ‘Boom Clap’ by Charli XCX, afterwards giggling ourselves silly until Nell, searching through the radio stations, happens across ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart.’

  That does it for us. We’re laughing so much by the time we arrive, you never would have thought she was angry with her boyfriend.

  Our antics have taken the edge off my nerves too, but I still feel a flurry of them as I pull through the white-painted wooden gates onto the long, tree-lined drive, the tyres crunching across the gravel as Lockwood House emerges before us.

  The old colonial house still takes my breath away. I don’t know what it was called when Ruth and Tony bought it forty-odd years ago, but when they got the winery up and running again, they renamed it Lockwood House and gave their wine the title, too.

  The roof is made of curved corrugated iron, extending down to cover a wide, deep balcony on the first floor. The walls are constructed from large creamy-coloured stones and the sash windows are painted white to match the iron lace detailing around the eaves. The property is set into a hill and at the back it’s single-storey with a long veranda opening up onto an expanse of freshly mown green grass. At the front, the lower-ground floor is made up of the Cellar Door, where Ethan sells wine direct to the visiting public.

  To the right of the house are several cream-stone outbuildings and fields full of grapevines. Row upon row of them stretch across the gently undulating hills to the bank of trees in the distance. To the left of the house are even more grapevines, this time on sloping land leading down to the creek. In the spring, when the water was high enough to catch our falls, Ethan and I used to hang on to a knotted rope and swing over it. His mother would scold us for returning to the house soaking wet and laughing.

  ‘G’day,’ I hear a deep voice say as we climb out of the car. Ethan is standing, smiling, on the veranda near the back door, hands tucked into his trouser pockets. He’s wearing a loose white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

  ‘Hello,’ I reply, feeling oddly shy as I shut the door behind me.

  He cocks an eyebrow. ‘You drove?’

  ‘We have a plan,’ I tell him mischievously.

  ‘Julian cancelled,’ Nell butts in. ‘Forget the bastard. Point me in the direction of alcohol.’

  Ethan chuckles and holds his arm open to Nell who steps into his embrace. He kisses the top of her head, then opens up his other arm to me. We walk towards the house like that. At a guess, I’m the only one whose heart is skipping beats.

  ‘Are we the first?’ I ask, aware of the jitters in my voice.

  ‘Yep. Josh and Teens are running late, but the other guests could be here any time.’

  Ruth’s organised dinner parties seat twelve, so we were supposed to be taking up half of the table, but there will only be five of us now. I don’t know who the other people are.

  Ethan lets us go to open the back door. He ushers us into the kitchen where there are food platters covering every surface.

  ‘Amber!’ Ruth cries, emerging from the next room with her arms wide open. She engulfs me in a hug for several long seconds before pulling away, beaming at me. ‘It’s been so long! How are you?’

  ‘I’m well,’ I reply as she leans past me to clasp Nell’s hand.

  ‘Hello, Nelly. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, too.’

  Nell flashes her a goofy grin. When Ruth casts her spotlight on you, it makes you feel a bit giddy.

  She’s aged since I last saw her, but she’s still beautiful. Her long dark hair, peppered now with grey and cut to just-below-shoulder length, is elegantly clipped back from her oval-shaped face. She’s tall and slim with the figure of a lucky forty-year-old, but I notice her wrinkle lines are more defined around her eyes, a lighter shade of green than her son’s.

  Her features rearrange into an expression of concern as she turns back to me. ‘Ethan told us about Len. I’m so sorry. How is he?’

  ‘He’s improving,’ I reply. ‘He’s coming home on Friday, so he’s looking forward to that.’

  ‘Please pass on our love,’ she says.

  I nod. ‘I will.’

  ‘Well, I’m just finishing up in here—’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’ I interrupt.

  ‘Oh, you’re still such a sweet girl,’ she says warmly, touching her hand to my arm. ‘I’ll be just fine,’ she promises. ‘Ethan, why don’t you take the girls out to the table for a glass of bubbles while we wait for everyone else to arrive?’

  A long trestle table has been set up in the dappled shade of a big, old walnut tree at the back of the garden, surrounded by a mismatched group of chicly distressed wooden chairs. The vision looks like something you’d see in the pages of a glossy magazine. White tablecloths flutter in the breeze, and the table itself is already laden with antipasti secured under cling film: cured meats, fruit, cheeses, chutneys and freshly baked bread that smells divine and is still warm, as I discover when I can’t resist checking. There are pink flowers in white vases dotted in three places along the table’s expanse, and three wine glasses set out for each person.

  Ethan smiles at our awed expressions. He goes over to the well-worn wooden bar set up off to one side, pulling out an ice bucket that he fills from a freezer under the counter. There’s electricity out here, as I can see from the strands of white outdoor lights hanging from the tree branches. It’s going to look beautiful later.

  Ethan opens up a bottle of sparkling wine and pours some into two champagne glasses.

  ‘Are you not having one?’ I ask, as Nell and I join him at the makeshift bar.

  ‘Not yet,’ he replies with a shake of his head. ‘I’m sort of working.’

  I’m disappointed. I was hoping he’d be sitting with us at the table.

  ‘Only sort of,’ he clarifies, handing us both glasses and propping his elbows on the bar. ‘I’m eating with you, but I’ll help out with the drinks until Joanne arrives.’

  ‘Who’s Joanne?’ Did I seriously just feel a pang of jealousy?

  ‘One of our regular serving staff. She had a problem with childcare tonight, so she’s not coming in until later.’ I breathe a little sigh of relief. She’s a mother, and I am crazy. ‘It’s cool,’ he says with a shrug. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘Being behind a bar suits you,’ Nell comments with a grin. ‘You look like one of those sexy cocktail guys that attract girls into bars like flies to—’

  ‘Ew!’ I cut her off before she can finish her sentence. ‘That’s disgusting!’

  Ethan laughs and rolls his eyes. ‘You see how sexy Amber thinks I am?’

  ‘I didn’t mean… Oh, whatever,’ I say when I realise he’s teasing me.

  The playful glint in his green eyes makes my stomach flip over. He breaks eye c
ontact and looks over the top of my head.

  ‘Here we go,’ he says, announcing the arrival of Ruth’s six other guests.

  They turn out to be a group of work colleagues, four men and two women, ranging in age from mid-twenties to early forties.

  When Tina and Josh arrive, we relocate to a table with Ethan at one end, me and Nell to his right, and Tina and Josh opposite us. Nell is sitting next to a youngish lawyer named George, who has a wicked sense of humour and a big smile. They’re getting on like a house on fire and I have a feeling Julian’s cancellation is currently far from her mind.

  The food is mouth-wateringly delicious. Smoked chicken, honey-glazed ham, baby-leaf salads with charred vegetables and pomegranates, platters of fresh, juicy figs with chunks of mozzarella, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic reduction, and for dessert, warm apricot tarts on tall cake stands, served with dollops of thick cream.

  Tony and Ruth came to join us for dessert and are currently seated at the other end of the table, chatting to the guests. Tony is in his sixties and has short brown-grey hair and a year-round tan. He’s affable and charming, just like his son. I’ve always liked him.

  Joanne arrived about halfway through the main course to help with clearing plates, but Ethan has continued to pour the wines and tell us a little about them, without boring us stupid with details. Unless, that is, we ask for them, which I notice the attractive blonde woman at the other end of the table is doing now.

  ‘Swap with me, darling,’ I hear Ruth say, standing up to give Ethan her chair. She flashes me such a bright, cheeky smile as she comes to sit down beside me that I barely feel disheartened by his absence.

  ‘It’s so good to see you!’ she says warmly, pressing my hand. ‘Tell me what you’ve been up to for the last… Gosh, how many years has it been?’

  ‘Over a decade,’ I tell her.

  ‘No! You don’t look ten years older!’ she exclaims.

  ‘Neither do you,’ I tell her truthfully.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, you’re too kind. How’s married life treating you? Ned, is it?’

  ‘Yes. He’s good,’ I reply with a nod, filling her in about his promotion.