Almost Perfect (24 page)

‘This is Georgie Reading's phone. Leave a message and I'll get back to you, soon as I can. Bye!'

‘Georgie, honey, it's, ah, it's Liam, honey. I'm so sorry, something's come up. I won't be able to make it this weekend. I'm really sorry . . . Georgie, I . . . you know how much I wanted to go. And you know how much I love you, don't you, honey? You need to know how much I love you. I'll um, I'll talk to you soon, when I get this all sorted. Okay? I love you. Bye.'

Georgie stared at her mobile. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the couches in the sitting room. It was nearly closing time, in fact if she could be bothered it probably was time to shut up shop. But
that was the thing. She couldn't be bothered. She couldn't be bothered with much of anything today.

Her phone had rung as she was getting on the bus last night but she had been caught in the throng and hadn't managed to answer it in time. When she heard the message, she tried to call Liam straight back, but it went directly to his message bank. She told him to call her again, that she would be home all evening, that she didn't care about the weekend away, she was only worried about him. After she got home she tried him again, but again was diverted to his message bank. She told him that of course she knew he loved her, and she loved him, and he was freaking her out so he better call, no matter how late it was when he got the message.

But he didn't call. And Georgie tried every hour on the hour until midnight, and then she started again this morning, first thing. She'd stopped leaving messages. It seemed pointless.

‘Don't you think he sounds . . . I don't know, distressed?' she said to Louise when she got to work and replayed the message for her. ‘Something's happened, something bad.'

‘Georgie, he phoned you, he was able to speak. Think about it, he's obviously physically okay.'

‘Well, maybe it was something at work, something serious has gone wrong. Or something could have happened to someone he knows. Like his crazy flatmate, maybe she did something–'

‘Calm down,' said Louise. Georgie's voice had been getting more and more shrill as she went along.

‘I can't calm down! I'm worried about him.
Maybe he's sick, what if he's sick? Did he sound sick to you?'

Louise decided to keep it to herself that she thought he sounded like a condemned man. ‘Georgie, worrying won't do anyone any good. Not you and not Liam. You're going to have to be patient while he sorts it out and then he'll call you, like he said he would. There's nothing else you can do.'

‘Hey, les miserables, want another hit?'

Georgie looked up vaguely.

‘Last drinks,' Adam called, waiting by the coffee machine.

‘Might as well,' she sighed. ‘I've drunk my body weight in caffeine already today, another few grams couldn't make much difference.'

A couple of minutes later Adam carried two mugs over to where Georgie was sitting, handed her one and dropped down on the couch beside her.

‘Thank you,' she said in a small voice.

‘My pleasure.'

Adam regarded the mobile phone on the coffee table. ‘He will call eventually.'

‘Hmm,' she murmured.

‘It's only been one day.'

Georgie nodded vaguely.

‘You know a watched mobile never rings.'

‘Mm.'

‘It's an old proverb, my grandmother told me.'

She didn't say anything, holding her cup against her lips, staring despondently at the phone.

‘Did I ever tell you about the time I had my leg bitten off by a shark? They were able to sew it back on again, once they cut it out of the shark's stomach. Thankfully it was only partially digested.'

Georgie turned her head slowly to look at Adam. ‘I was listening to you.'

‘It's a little hard to tell. You know that saying about the light being on but there's no one home?'

‘You're full of sayings today.'

‘Well,' he persisted, ‘today, your light hasn't even been on, Georgie.'

She gave him a contrite smile. ‘I'm just worried about him. Did I play you his message?'

‘You did actually. Twice. And it was freaky, it sounded the same both times.'

Georgie sighed. Adam put his arm around her. ‘Come on, I can't stand it when you're like this.'

‘When am I ever like this?'

‘Well, never, that's why I can't stand it.'

She dropped her head against his shoulder. ‘I just can't put it out of my mind.'

‘Look, the guy said he loved you and he was sorry about seven hundred times in the space of a twenty-second phone message. That's more than a lot of women get in a whole relationship. Or so I'm told.'

‘So you don't think I have anything to worry about?'

‘What's the bet something blew up at work. He's a suit, Georgie, that's going to be your biggest problem, getting him out of that suit.'

She looked sideways at him.

‘Okay, that didn't come out the way I meant it to,' he frowned. ‘Ah, but look at that, at least I made you smile.'

‘You always do.'

Adam smiled back at her. ‘We'd better help that customer, she keeps looking over at us.'

‘I'll go.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Yeah, you close up the register. I can't deal with figures right now.'

Adam laughed. ‘What do you mean, “right now”?'

Anna glanced over her shoulder again. The woman was coming towards her. Could that be her? She was pretty, Anna supposed, though a little scrawny. But the hair, the clothes . . . she looked like a refugee from a hippy commune.

Anna had sat in the cafe across the road for the past two hours, keeping surveillance on The Reading Rooms while she attempted to summon up the courage to actually go over there. Eventually she checked her watch and when she saw the time, she'd jumped up, dashed across the street and walked in the door before she realised what she was doing.

There was a young, good-looking man working
the coffee machine. He had looked up and smiled widely at her, greeting her with the standard, ‘How are you going?'

Anna had nodded and slipped between the rows of shelves, pretending to look for something. There didn't appear to be anyone else in the shop, but she noticed the man was carrying two mugs as he came around the counter. He walked towards the far corner of the room and Anna lost sight of him. She moved to the end of a row where she could get a better view, picked up a book and pretended to be scanning the back cover. She peered across surreptitiously; there was a woman sitting very close to the good-looking man. He put his arm around her after a while and she leaned her head on his shoulder. It obviously wasn't her. She certainly didn't look as though she owned the business, and besides, she was hardly Mac's type.

Anna didn't know what she was doing here. She should leave, this was crazy. But something had compelled her. Last night had been excruciating. Painful. Hideous. She had told Mac to get out, to leave, but when she came downstairs later he was sitting in the sunroom, a beer in his hand, staring listlessly out at the back garden. They'd started to fight again. Anna wanted details, she wanted to know everything, when it had started, how it had started, how often they saw each other, when, where, everything. Mac refused at first but Anna was adamant. She said he owed her that much. So he began, slowly, reluctantly. The bookshop was in Dee Why; he'd wandered in by chance one day to look for something for her, as he'd
said in the first place. He went back the next day for coffee, and the day after it was lunch . . . But before he could get any further Anna screamed at him to stop. She couldn't look at him. She told him he had to go. He said he wasn't going to leave her alone, the state she was in. She screamed at him more. Patronising, condescending, arrogant arsehole. The language she'd used . . . She'd never even uttered half the words she screamed at him last night. She lost it completely. Until late at night, when finally she'd passed out, curled up on the sofa.

When she woke in the morning there was a cotton blanket draped over her. She could hear Mac in the kitchen. When she walked in he was making coffee. He was dressed for work, but he looked dreadful. He hadn't shaved, his eyes were like sunken pits, his skin sallow. He met her eyes briefly, cowering. At least he had the decency to be racked with guilt.

‘Coffee's on,' he said, his voice gravelly.

Anna didn't say anything. She walked past him to the breakfast table and sat, hunched over. Five, ten minutes must have passed. Mac carried a cup over and placed it on the table in front of her. He took a few steps back and leaned against the kitchen bench.

He cleared his voice. ‘I'm going into work for a while.'

Anna sniggered. ‘If that's code for “I'm going to see my girlfriend”, why are you bothering with the charade?'

‘I'm not going to see her.'

‘Ever again?'

He sighed. ‘I don't want to fight right now.'

Anna laughed. ‘When then? Should we make an appointment?'

Mac rubbed his forehead. ‘Look, I'm going to work, I'm not going to see her. You're right, what would be the point in lying to you now?'

Anna didn't say anything. She picked up her cup and took a sip. He was going to work to hide out. That was the way Mac always coped.

‘Are you going to be all right?' he asked.

She turned her head slowly and fixed her eyes on him. ‘Just as soon as you leave.'

So of course he did, and Anna ranged around the empty house, feeling lost and incredibly alone. She had no one to talk to, except maybe Doug. Yes, Doug; she could talk to him, but the practice was closed for the holidays and she was pretty sure he had mentioned going away. Besides, she wouldn't bother him at home. It occurred to Anna that she had no close friends, no girlfriends, no one she could phone up and ask to come over, no one's shoulder she could cry on. The very thought of it made her squirm. She sat and listened to people's problems all day but she had never been good at sharing her own. Not even with Mac, except if she'd been drinking, and that had never gone so well.

And so her mind wandered. She thought about the woman, the woman named Georgie who owned a bookshop. How fucking twee. Anna wondered what she looked like, what she gave Mac that Anna couldn't or didn't or wasn't even aware was lacking. What did they do when they were together? Did they just fuck, or did they talk? Last night Mac had
strenuously maintained that the woman didn't know he was married, but Anna didn't believe it for a minute. Did he tell her how his wife didn't understand him, how difficult his marriage had been because they had not been able to have children? How trapped he felt? Eventually Anna thought her brain was going to explode with all these questions. Until it occurred to her she could answer at least some of them for herself. She opened the Yellow Pages. There was only one bookshop in Dee Why.

And now she was standing in the bookshop and the woman was walking towards her. This wasn't the woman, the woman called Georgie. This was an innocent shop assistant. Anna felt ridiculous.

‘Hi, do you need some help?'

‘I'm sorry, I shouldn't be holding you up, you must be wanting to close.'

‘Don't worry, I'm the boss.'

‘You are?'

‘Sure.'

Anna couldn't speak. She realised the woman was watching her, frowning. She cleared her throat. ‘You manage the place?'

‘No, Louise does that,' the woman said with a coy tilt of her head. ‘She's my sister-in-law and my business partner, we own the shop together. I'm Georgie.'

Anna felt winded. As though all the oxygen had been sucked out of her. She didn't know if she was going to be able to breathe again. God, what if she
passed out here, now, right in front of her, she couldn't . . .

‘Are you okay?' The woman was looking up at her face, concerned.

‘It's a little hot, isn't it?' Anna said. She could speak, she was breathing.

‘Sit down, I'll get you a glass of water.'

‘No, really, I'm okay.'

‘It's no trouble. Ad? Grab us a glass of water, will you?' she called.

The woman darted over to the counter and came back with a glass, handing it to Anna.

‘You're very kind,' Anna said before she realised what she was saying. Very kind to be servicing my husband for me.

‘No worries,' said the woman, the woman whose name was Georgie. ‘It is hot, stinking in fact. It's going to be one of those nights.'

Anna just stared at her. Listening to her voice, looking at her face. Trying to imagine Mac standing next to her, his arm around her.

‘Anna, this is Georgie. Georgie, Anna, my wife.'

‘Hi! I've heard so much about you, all of it bad!'

‘So, were you looking for something in particular?' the woman asked.

‘No, I've imposed enough.'

‘Don't be silly,' said the woman. ‘Come on, you're here now. What were you after?'

Anna took a deep breath. She'd rehearsed this over in the coffee shop. ‘Well, I have a client . . . I'm a psychologist actually.'

The woman nodded.

Anna watched her, not a blush, not a pause. She had hoped for a tiny glimmer of recognition, a spark igniting in her brain, revealed in her eyes. ‘
My lover's wife is a psychologist
.'

‘My client is having an affair with a married man.' Anna said bluntly, scrutinising the woman's face. No flinch, nothing.

‘That must be hard.'

‘For whom?'

‘For you, to have to listen to her, sit on the fence, so to speak.'

‘It's my job.'

The woman nodded again.

‘Anyway, my client is having difficulty dealing with her guilt . . .'

The woman was listening, but Anna detected a ‘why are you telling me all this' slant in her expression. She was going to lose her.

‘There was a book, I heard about it, or read about it, somewhere. It's written from the “other woman's” perspective . . .'

‘Oh,' the woman appeared relieved. She did have a point after all. ‘So, is it fiction, autobiography?'

Anna shook her head. ‘No, self-help I would imagine.'

The woman smiled. ‘I didn't think real psychologists went in for that kind of thing?'

‘It has its place.'

The woman walked towards the back wall. ‘Here's the self-help section. Do you know the name of the book?'

‘No, I'm afraid I don't.'

‘The author?'

‘Sorry, can't remember.'

‘Well,' the woman breathed out, ‘that makes it a little more difficult.' She started to scan the shelves. ‘Boy, there are some doozies here. Look at this one,
Men: Why you can't trust them as far as you can throw them
. There's even
A Dummies Guide to the Cheating Bastard
. There doesn't appear to be anything about the other woman. They all seem to focus on the man,' she mused.

Anna came to stand beside her. ‘I wonder why that is?'

‘Because that's where the buck stops, don't you think?'

‘Do you?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘But the prevailing wisdom is that an affair can't destroy a good marriage. That it's a sign there are problems.'

The woman sniggered. ‘My parents had a wonderful marriage, until my father had an affair. Single-handedly destroyed my mother and ruined our family.'

‘Then perhaps part of the blame does lie with the woman who lures him away? There is some evidence that certain women prey on married men, they like the challenge apparently.'

She frowned. ‘Well, you'd have to be either crazy or a masochist to go after a married man, but that aside, I don't care if a woman hangs naked upside down in front of him, he's made a vow and he shouldn't break it.'

Anna gazed unblinking at the woman. She was telling the truth. She had no idea what was about to detonate around her. For a moment, Anna almost felt sorry for her.

The woman was beginning to look uncomfortable. ‘Listen, why don't you give me your name? I can ask Louise if she's heard of the book, and we can do a computer search–'

‘No, honestly,' Anna stirred, focussing. ‘I should try to find out more details. I'll come back.'

The woman almost vanished before Georgie's eyes. She walked back over to the counter where Adam was finishing up.

‘She was out of here in a hurry,' he remarked. ‘Did you say something to scare her off?'

Georgie leaned against the counter, gazing thoughtfully towards the door. ‘She was a strange bird. Really intense, you know? Kept asking me questions and staring at me while I answered her. Gave me the creeps.'

‘What did she want?'

‘Some book for one of her patients. She's a psychologist.'

‘Hah, that explains it – psychologists are all crazy.'

Georgie laughed.

‘That's better,' said Adam. ‘At least she took your mind off your troubles for a while.' He walked around the counter and stopped in front of her. ‘So I'm going to pick up where she left off and take you out for a drink.'

‘Oh, you're sweet, Ad. But I want to get home, you know, in case he calls, or comes round.'

He shook his head. ‘You're too good to be waiting around for a guy to call.'

‘Ah, but you see, he's not just any guy.'

‘Yeah, only the luckiest guy on the planet.'

Georgie snorted. ‘Oh, you sweet-talker you,' she said, nudging him. ‘I hope you don't try lines like that on real girls.'

‘Okay, get out of here,' said Adam. ‘Go, wait by the phone.'

‘You'll close up?'

He nodded, walking back around the counter.

‘Thank you, Adam!' she called as she dashed out to the office to get her bag. She reappeared after a second, almost running towards the door.

‘Hey, Georgie,' Adam called, holding up her mobile phone, ‘don't forget your lifeline.'

She swung around and he tossed it over to her.

‘Your blood's worth bottling!' she grinned, dropping it into her bag. She flipped the ‘Closed' sign over and turned back, blowing Adam a kiss before she disappeared out the door.