Almost Perfect (26 page)

‘Good morning, The Reading Rooms, Louise speaking. How can I help you?'

‘Louise, hi, it's Liam MacMullen.'

‘Hi Liam,' Louise returned guardedly. She didn't know what had happened between him and Georgie. They hadn't heard from her all weekend, and she hadn't arrived at work yet. Normally she'd be here by now, and Louise and Adam had been wondering if she might have gone away with Liam after all.

‘I don't suppose, well, I was hoping to speak to Georgie if she's around?'

‘She hasn't come in yet, Liam.'

Louise heard a loud sigh. ‘Have you spoken to her?'

‘Not this morning.'

‘Did you talk to her or see her at all over the weekend?'

‘No,' Louise hesitated. ‘I thought maybe she was with you.'

‘No,' he said gravely.

‘You haven't seen her at all?'

‘Sorry, I did see her Friday night,' he explained. ‘I tried calling her all over the weekend, I've even been to the flat a few times but she doesn't answer.' He paused. ‘I'm worried about her, Louise.'

‘What happened Friday night?'

Another sigh. ‘We had a fight. It was pretty bad.'

‘Oh,' Louise murmured. This was awkward. ‘Did you break it off with her, Liam?'

‘No, no,' he assured her. ‘She's the one who doesn't want to see me any more.'

What the hell did he do to her? ‘Okay,' Louise said briskly. She didn't want Liam's version anyway, she'd wait until she talked to Georgie. ‘Well, one of us'll go over, we've got keys to her place.'

‘Do you mind, could you ask her to call me?' he said. ‘Or could someone call me so I know she's all right?'

‘Sure Liam.' He gave her his mobile number and she wrote it down. ‘I'll talk to you later, bye.'

Louise hung up and speed-dialled home. Nick must have been sitting on the phone because he picked up straight away.

‘Hi, Nick, it's me.'

‘I know, I haven't forgotten.'

‘What, the sound of my voice?'

‘To call the dishwasher guy. I was just about to.'

‘I'm not ringing about that,' she said, exasperated.

‘Oh, what's up?'

‘Liam just phoned.'

‘And?'

‘Apparently he and Georgie had a fight on Friday night and he hasn't been able to get on to her since then, he's even gone round there and she doesn't answer.'

‘Okay, I'm on my way.'

‘Drop Grace off here, will you? I don't want her with you, in case . . . anything.'

‘Yeah,' he swallowed. ‘Shit Louise, you don't think–'

‘No, no I don't. She'll be all right. I'm sure she'll be all right.'

Nick realised his hand was shaking as he pushed the key into the lock of Georgie's door. He'd been gripped by an overwhelming sense of dread since Louise's call; he hadn't been able to get out of the house fast enough. The whole time he kept telling himself she was not like their mother, she wouldn't go that far. But she was like their mother, everyone said so. Nick had kept a close eye on her when she was younger, but she seemed to cope fine out on her own, and with the business. He had felt more at ease as the years passed. He had convinced himself eventually that Georgie was made of stronger stuff than Gillian. He'd only worried she may never find someone for herself, and then Liam had come along. She'd seemed so happy lately, so settled. Nick had really had the feeling this might be the one. He was not an aggressive man, but if Liam had hurt her, if he had pushed her to . . .

The door swung open and he burst through,
calling her name. He quickly scanned the living area. ‘Georgie!' he called again, striding down the hall to her room. And then he saw her, or at least a tuft of coppery hair sticking out of the tangled mess of bedclothes. He walked over and yanked at the doona.

‘Georgie! Wake up, it's me, Nick.' No response. He threw back the curtains to get some light into the room before pulling the covers away to reveal her head and shoulders, face down. As he turned her over he registered that she was warm, thank Christ. He smoothed her hair away from her face, kneeling up on the bed beside her. ‘Georgie, wake up.'

She groaned, but she was completely out of it. ‘Come on, Georgie,' he said sternly. ‘Wake up.' He gave her shoulders a gentle shake.

‘Don't want to,' she murmured, trying to roll back over, but Nick wouldn't let her.

‘Georgie! Wake up!' He pulled her up into a sitting position, supporting her with one arm while he held her face with his free hand. ‘Georgie, open your eyes.'

She screwed up her face and opened her eyes, barely, squinting. ‘It's too bright,' she moaned, closing them again.

‘Georgie, have you taken anything?'

‘What?'

‘Listen carefully to me, Georgie. Have you taken anything? Any tablets, any pills? Anything at all?'

‘No, of course I haven't,' she grumbled, shrugging him off. She looked around the room, still squinting, trying to adjust to the light.

Nick held her face up to his, peering into her eyes.

‘Nick! What the hell are you doing?'

‘I just . . .' He suddenly felt choked with relief. He gathered her up in his arms and hugged her tight, he couldn't help himself.

‘Nicholas Reading, would you cut it out! You're freaking me out!'

He released her, sitting back to look at her.

‘You're acting like I've come back from the dead or something.'

He winced. ‘Don't say that.'

Georgie frowned at him. ‘Why did you think I'd taken something?'

‘Well,' he hesitated, ‘I was just worried about you. We've all been worried. No one's heard from you all weekend–'

‘What?' She was shocked. ‘What day is it?'

‘Monday.'

‘Shit.' Georgie rubbed her eyes. ‘How did you know . . .? What made you come over here?'

‘Liam rang the shop.'

She sat there for a minute, staring at the bed, her head downcast.

‘Georgie, what happened?'

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and Nick saw they were filled with tears. Her face crumpled and she started to sob. He moved closer and put his arm around her. ‘What's the matter, sis, what happened?'

She said something but it was muffled against his shoulder. He looked down at her. ‘What did you say?'

She sighed tremulously. ‘He's married,' she
repeated as her voice broke and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Nick held her while she cried and cried like a little girl. The dickhead. Why did it have to happen to Georgie? She couldn't hurt a living thing if her life depended on it. She was too bloody trusting was the problem. He knew Louise was sometimes a little inclined to suspect the worst, but she'd obviously been right to have reservations about Liam. Nick should have listened to her, he should have paid closer attention to what was going on. He should have protected Georgie from this.

After a while she seemed calmer. She reached back for some tissues on her bedside table, wiped her face and blew her nose.

‘I'd better ring Louise, let her know you're okay,' said Nick.

‘I didn't mean to worry anyone.'

‘It's all right.' He picked up the phone next to her bed but there was no dial tone. ‘Something's wrong with your phone, Georgie.'

She sighed heavily. ‘It kept ringing. I pulled it out. I didn't want to talk to him . . . I couldn't . . .'

Nick replaced the phone on its cradle and turned to look at her.

‘He came over Friday night,' she went on. ‘Did Louise tell you about the phone call on Thursday?'

He nodded.

‘So he showed up here not long after I got home from work. He looked terrible, I thought he was ill.' She stared across at the wall. ‘That's when he told me . . .'

Nick saw the tears creep back into her eyes. He put his arm around her, rubbing her shoulder. Georgie leaned her head against him. ‘He said he was going to leave her for me. He must think I was born yesterday.' She paused. ‘Besides, even if he meant it, I couldn't break up a marriage.' She looked up at Nick. ‘You know that, don't you? I would never have been with Liam if I'd known he was married.'

‘I know that.'

‘So I told him he had to go. After a while, I don't know how long, the phone started ringing. I pulled it out from the wall, and I turned off my mobile as well. Then I went to bed.'

‘For the rest of the weekend?'

‘I guess,' she murmured vaguely. ‘I got up and watched some old movie on TV at one stage. I thought it was the middle of the night.'

‘Have you eaten anything?'

‘I don't think so. I don't remember.'

Nick sighed. ‘You're coming back to our place, okay? Stay with us a few days, till you feel better.'

Georgie nodded. ‘Okay.'

‘You go have a shower and get ready, I'll plug in the phone and call Louise. Do you want me to make you something to eat?'

‘No, I don't want to hang around here.'

Nick smiled faintly at her. ‘You're going to be okay, Georgie.'

She nodded, swallowing back the tears that were rising in her throat again. But once she was in the shower, she couldn't hold them back any longer. The pain was intolerable, that's why she had slept all
weekend. Every time she was awake she felt the pain afresh, it hadn't eased at all.

The whole thing still felt unreal. She kept thinking Liam would turn up and tell her there had been problems at work, that's all it was. He would tell her he loved her and that he wanted to marry her. Not that he was married to someone else.

How long had he been married anyway? Did he have kids? Georgie hadn't thought to ask those questions. They hadn't really crossed her mind at the time, but her few waking moments had been plagued by them. If he had children . . . Georgie couldn't bear thinking about it. She couldn't be the reason a family was torn apart. She would not be. She was never going to see Liam again. That was the only way. Because if she saw him . . . her chest tightened, squeezing more tears into her throat . . . if she saw him, her resolve might weaken. She couldn't trust herself. He had hurt and betrayed her in the worst possible way, yet she desperately wanted to hold him the other night, to feel his arms around her. So she wouldn't even let him touch her. And when he kept ringing, she was so tempted to pick up the phone and tell him to come back right away. Tell her all the terrible things about his wife, give her a reason to make it all right.

But nothing would make it right. Their whole relationship was founded on a lie. It was a myth, it wasn't real because not one moment had been honest. Liam had no right to fall in love with her, if he was in love with her. How could she believe anything he said now? The only thing Georgie knew for
sure was that she loved him, he was the love of her life, and now she could never be with him.

‘MacMullen.'

‘Hello, Liam?'

‘Yes . . . Louise,' he said, recognising her voice. ‘Have you heard anything?'

‘She's all right.'

‘Oh,' he breathed. ‘That's a relief. Thanks for letting me know.'

‘She was at the flat the whole time, but she'd turned off the phones, hibernating for the weekend. Nick's taking her back to our place.'

‘I see.' They must know. Georgie must have told them. He felt like a criminal. ‘Maybe, um, maybe I could try calling her later?'

Louise didn't answer right away. ‘I don't think that's such a good idea, Liam. Perhaps you'd better leave it a few days.'

He swallowed. It would feel like a year. ‘Fair enough.'

‘Bye now.'

He sat still, holding the phone, staring down at his desk without actually seeing anything on it. He couldn't work. He couldn't focus. He used to be able to work through anything, but not any more. He
noticed Stella walking past the frosted glass door of his office. He was about to call out, but he didn't want to incur another lecture. He pressed the intercom and she answered immediately.

‘Can I see you for a minute?'

She appeared at the door of his office. ‘What do you need, Mac?'

‘Come inside, close the door.'

She did as he asked, then came to stand at the other side of his desk, watching him expectantly.

‘Take a seat.'

Stella sat down. ‘What is it?'

He hadn't really thought this through. ‘Um, actually, I was thinking about lunch.'

‘Oh?' She looked a little confused. ‘Well, you don't have any appointments.'

‘Good, okay,' he nodded.

‘Do you want me to order you something in?'

‘No, no, I was thinking of going out.'

‘Okay.'

‘Do you want to come?'

‘Sorry?'

‘I thought you might like to come, I haven't taken you out to lunch for a while.'

‘You mean ever,' she said drily.

‘That's not true.'

‘You can't count lunch meetings when I come as your assistant.'

‘You still get a free lunch.'

‘Aha! But there's no such thing as a free lunch, is there?'

Mac rubbed his forehead. ‘It shouldn't be this
hard. Stella, would you like to join me for lunch today?'

‘That would be very nice, thank you.'

He got to his feet. ‘Good. Let's go then.'

She looked at her watch. ‘Mac, it's only eleven o'clock.'

‘Oh.' He hesitated. ‘Well, so what, I'm hungry, and I'm the boss, so please,' he said, holding his hand up to stop her, ‘let's not have a debate about it.'

‘Okay, I'll get my bag.'

When they stepped from the building out into the sunshine, Mac looked at Stella. ‘Which way?'

‘I don't know. Aren't you taking me to lunch?'

‘Hmm. Any suggestions? Where do you usually go?'

Stella frowned. ‘I usually go cheap.'

‘Doesn't bother me.'

‘Well, this
is
a treat,' she said, not even attempting to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

‘Okay, Stella. I don't really care where we go, so you choose. Anywhere you like.'

She smiled slyly at him. ‘The Overseas Passenger Terminal is supposed to be nice.'

‘They serve food there?'

‘Of course.'

‘Then lead the way.'

When they were seated, Mac ordered a beer.

‘Anything for you, miss?'

‘No, not yet, thanks.' The waiter walked away and Stella looked directly at Mac. ‘Isn't it a little early?'

‘For what?'

‘For a drink?'

He shook his head. ‘Not today.' Mac noticed the worried expression on her face. ‘You've known me for long enough to know that I don't have a drinking problem, and I'm not likely to develop one now. I feel like a drink and I don't see the point in waiting another–' he checked his watch, ‘– forty minutes just to conform to some arbitrary code of what's considered respectable.'

‘Okay,' she said warily. The waiter returned with Mac's beer and Stella changed her mind about having a drink. Something was up and she had a feeling Mac was about to pour it all out. She ordered a champagne cocktail and the waiter left again.

‘Celebrating something?' Mac asked.

‘No, champagne's the only alcohol that feels legitimate before noon.'

‘Whatever you think.'

He became absorbed in the menu, so Stella did the same. When the waiter returned with her drink, Mac asked if they could order food yet. He hesitated, the kitchen was probably not quite ready, there might be a slight delay. Mac assured him that wasn't a problem, and after they'd ordered, he also asked for a bottle of red to be brought with lunch.

When the waiter left, Stella picked up her glass. ‘Got anything to drink to?'

Mac sighed. ‘You tell me.'

She kept her eyes fixed on him until he looked up. ‘What?'

‘Spill, please. I can't stand this any more.'

‘What?'

‘Mac, are you going to pretend there's nothing
wrong? Because I know there is. And it's not just about Anna, it's something else. Something that's weighing you down so much your knuckles drag along the ground. It's been going on for months and it's only getting worse. So get it off your chest for Chrissakes!'

Stella took a gulp of champagne and looked across at Mac. He was frowning, staring down at his beer bottle.

‘Was I too strong?' she winced.

He shook his head. ‘No, it's okay. You're right.' He lifted his gaze to meet hers. ‘I've been seeing someone.'

‘What was that?'

‘I've been seeing someone else. A woman . . .'

Stella's eyes grew wide. ‘You're having an affair?'

‘I guess, if you have to put it like that,' he shrugged. ‘I've always thought it was a bit of a stupid expression. What does it mean anyway?'

She looked flustered. ‘You're not the kind of man who has an affair!'

‘Oh? What kind of man has an affair?'

‘Well . . . the kind who would have an affair with his secretary!' she blurted.

Mac looked at her, dumbfounded. Stella picked up her glass and poured half of it straight down her throat.

‘Stella . . . I . . . I don't know what to say.'

‘Don't worry about it,' she dismissed, recovering. ‘I'm over you now. It was only an infatuation anyway. I was barely twenty-four when you started, don't forget. You were a pretty impressive young Turk
in those days. But it was obvious you were devoted to your wife–' Stella stopped midsentence.

Mac leaned forward. ‘I was devoted to Anna. I have always been devoted to Anna.'

‘You've got a funny way of showing it.' Stella winced, holding her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh shit, Mac, this is what happens when I drink too early in the day.'

‘Stella, I'm not offended. I'm not exactly in the position to get on my high horse.'

‘But you're my boss.'

Mac couldn't help smiling then. ‘When has that ever stopped you from telling me what you think?'

She shrugged, gulping down more of her champagne. ‘Can I have another one of these?'

‘Sure.' He motioned the waiter, and as the place was almost empty, he came straight over. ‘Another one for the lady.'

‘Your meals won't be long, sir,' he said, retreating.

‘Like I'm going to be able to eat,' Stella muttered.

‘Sorry.'

‘Why did you decide to tell me this, Mac?'

‘I guess I had to tell someone.'

‘Anna doesn't know yet?' she exclaimed in a high-pitched whisper.

‘No, she does. She found out the other day.'

‘You didn't tell her?'

‘I was planning to, very soon. But she found out before I got the chance.'

The waiter returned with another champagne cocktail for Stella, and she skolled what remained in her first glass, handing it to him.

‘Go on,' she prompted Mac. ‘You were going to tell Anna . . .'

‘But first I had to tell Georgie–'

‘Hold on, back back,' Stella said. ‘Georgie?'

‘Her name's Georgie, she owns a bookshop in Dee Why.'

‘Readings?'

‘You know it?'

‘Sure, everyone knows The Reading Rooms. It has quite a reputation.'

Mac smiled faintly. It made him feel proud.

‘So you said you were going to tell Georgie? Tell her what?'

‘That I was married.'

‘She didn't know?'

He shook his head.

‘How on earth did you keep that from her?'

‘You have to know her . . . she's a very trusting person. I hardly ever lied to her, I didn't need to.'

‘Hold on, back back again,' Stella said, waving her hand. ‘What do you mean you hardly lied to her? She didn't know you were married!'

‘But I never said I wasn't married–'

‘Oh please, Mac! It's a pretty glaring omission, don't you think?'

He just looked at her.

‘God, you were even lying to yourself, weren't you?' Stella sighed. ‘So, where are things at now?'

‘Well, long story short, they both know everything and it turns out the only person who despises me more than Anna is Georgie.'

‘Did you expect it to turn out any other way?'

Mac shrugged. He looked so . . . woebegone.

‘
Porca miseria
,' Stella declared.

‘Did you just call me a miserable pig?'

‘No,' she assured him. ‘It means, you're really in the shit, aren't you?'

‘You think I deserve this, Stella?'

‘Oh, don't ask me that.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because it's not fair.'

‘But I told you, you can say anything.'

‘What do you want me to say, Mac? That I feel sorry for you? Well, I do, but I don't. I don't because, my God, you made your bed, didn't you? You're married, Mac, no matter how bad things are, you don't solve it by bringing another person into the equation.'

‘But it's not like I planned it,' he defended himself. ‘You were right, Stella, I'm not the kind of man who has an affair. I haven't even been with that many women in my life. There were girls at uni, but I wasn't a big player. I worked too hard to be distracted by girls. I never even flirted much, I'm not like that.'

‘This much we have established.'

He looked at her sheepishly. ‘I never thought I'd have an “affair”. It never occurred to me, even when Anna and I barely had a sex life–'

Stella cleared her throat, shifting in her seat.

‘Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?'

She threw back more of her champagne. ‘No, it's okay, go ahead. I'll just pretend you're one of my girlfriends.'

He shook his head ruefully. ‘You see, women can
talk like this. Men can't. That's partly what drew me to Georgie.'

Stella sat back in her chair, listening.

‘Anna had been sad for so long, I can't remember the last time she was happy. Or even content. She was either uptight, waiting to see if the next cycle was successful, miserable when it wasn't, or distant the rest of the time. She used to shut down. She never wanted to talk about it. It was too painful for her, I think.'

The waiter approached with their meals and set them down on the table. Another waiter was opening the bottle of red. He poured a little for Mac to taste, and he nodded to indicate it was fine.

‘Miss?'

Stella looked across at Mac. ‘Are we going back to work this afternoon?'

‘Not at this rate.'

‘Okay,' she glanced up at the waiter. ‘Thank you.'

He filled both their glasses and left. ‘So,' Stella resumed, ‘if you never considered having an affair, how did it happen?'

Mac took a mouthful of wine and gazed out across the water. ‘I left work early one day . . . as a matter of fact, I think you made me go home.'

‘I did?'

He nodded. ‘Anna had phoned, the last cycle had failed. You cancelled all my appointments and told me to go home. You said to buy her something nice.'

‘I remember.'

‘But I dreaded going home. I crossed the Bridge but I didn't turn off at Mosman. I kept driving down
to the Spit. And then I kept driving. I got all the way to Dee Why and thought I should probably go back. I pulled into a side street, but then I saw a parking space so I got out, walked along looking at the shops, wondering what I could possibly get Anna that would make her happy. I realised it was a pretty hopeless cause, and I was about to go back to the car when I saw the bookshop. I went in, probably just to waste some more time. It was Georgie who came and served me.' The memory brought a smile to his face. ‘She was dressed like a hippy, and her hair was all crazy, bits of purple or blue in it, I think . . .'

‘She doesn't exactly sound like your type.'

He shrugged. ‘You have to meet her. You'd love her, Stella. I swear I was with her for two minutes and she had me laughing. And I didn't have much to laugh about at the time. But she smiles and her whole face lights up. And she's got these eyes . . . big hazel eyes . . .'

Stella watched Mac. Just thinking about this Georgie made him happy. She felt her eyes tearing up. She sniffed. Bloody wine in the middle of the day. She'd better eat something. She picked up her fork. ‘So that's when you started seeing her?'

‘Well, I didn't plan to, but I was drawn to her. I went to the shop again the next day, it felt so good to be around her. Then I asked her out for lunch and we met down at the beach.' He drifted off again for a moment. ‘Anyway, I knew it couldn't go anywhere, that I shouldn't lead her on. I put her out of my mind and tried to talk things over with Anna. That's when I asked her if we could have a break
from the treatment for a while. We fought about it. She said some things . . . I don't know, she was probably just angry. But it hurt. I ended up calling Georgie again.'