Almost Perfect (28 page)

‘Whoever invented alcohol should be shot,' Georgie moaned, negotiating her way through the furniture in the living room as though it was a minefield and one false move would blow her into the middle of next week.

‘Shooting's too quick,' said Nick from the
kitchen. ‘They should be made to suffer a hangover that lasts an entire week.'

Georgie sat down gingerly at the table and cradled her head. ‘I don't know why you're complaining,' she said, peering across at him. ‘You don't look too bad.'

‘That's because I've got an hour or so on you. I was not so pretty earlier, trust me. Here,' he said, crossing to the table with a glass of fizzy liquid, ‘this'll make you feel better, and fresh coffee's on the way.'

‘Thank you.' Georgie held the glass with both hands and drank down half of it. ‘Where're the rest of the womenfolk?'

‘Louise went in to the shop–'

‘Wasn't Adam supposed to be opening today?'

‘Don't you remember the state he was in last night?' Nick grinned.

‘No, not really. I don't remember much at all from last night.'

‘Well, Louise had to take him home and she told him she'd cover for him today, she thought it was best for the business.'

‘And what about the girls?

‘Ah,' he said, carrying the coffee plunger and a cup around the kitchen bench. ‘My wonderful wife, whose largesse of heart is only surpassed by her beauty, took our tiny daughters to work with her so I could sleep it off.'

‘What did you do to deserve that?'

‘The real question is, what will I have to do to repay it?'

Georgie attempted a smile.

‘Anyway, I have to pick them up soon. She gave me a few hours reprieve but I'm not going to push it.' He poured coffee into the cup for Georgie. ‘Now, do you want the toast and Vegemite remedy, or the deluxe greasy bacon and egg treatment?'

‘You don't have to take care of me,' she protested.

‘Someone's got to.'

Georgie looked plaintively at him. Nick closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I didn't mean anything–'

‘It's okay. It's true, I can't seem to look after myself.'

‘Of course you can,' he chided, pulling a chair closer and sitting down.

She shook her head. ‘I feel so stupid, Nick.'

‘You're not stupid.'

‘I am. Why didn't I see it? It's all so obvious now. The way he was hardly ever able to stay the night, the snatched moments at odd times through the day, the excuses.'

‘It's called hindsight, sweetheart. Wish we all had it.'

‘Louise knew.'

‘She wondered about him, she had suspicions . . .'

‘Very strong suspicions, and I dismissed them because I'm a gullible idiot.'

‘Don't be so hard on yourself, Georgie. This isn't your fault. It's his, let's not forget that.'

Georgie stared at her cup, watching the image blur as tears filled her eyes. They toppled over her lashes and she sniffed, wiping them away with the sleeve of her robe.

‘Hey, Georgie girl,' Nick said tenderly, bringing
his arms right around her. She leaned sideways against him.

‘This is how Mum must have felt,' she said with a tremor in her voice. ‘God, this is how his wife is feeling . . . and it's all my fault.'

‘Georgie, would you stop saying that?' Nick said firmly. ‘It's not your fault, let's not blame the victim here.'

She sat up straight again, taking a deep breath in and out. ‘I keep thinking how lost and frightened we felt when it all came out about Dad . . . and now it's happening all over again,' she said, her voice barely making it out of her throat. ‘And I don't know if I can cope.'

‘Georgie.' Nick took hold of her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. ‘You can cope. I know you can, I have absolute faith in you.'

She sighed. ‘You do?'

‘Yes I do. You just have to give yourself time.'

‘How much time?'

‘I don't know.' Nick paused, thinking. ‘Louise reckons you need closure first.'

Georgie frowned. ‘Didn't we talk about that last night?'

‘I think we might have.' He squinted off into the distance. ‘I seem to remember someone writing it up on a wall.'

‘What did we say about it?'

‘You're stretching me now. I know Louise thinks you should talk to him, maybe even see him.'

Georgie pulled a face. ‘What's that going to achieve?'

Nick shrugged. ‘You can find out the truth, the whole story.'

‘But I can't trust him to tell me the truth.'

‘He's already outed himself, why would he bother lying any more?'

‘To convince me to keep seeing him, that he's going to leave his wife, crap like that.'

‘You can ignore all that. But at least you can get some answers about the things that are upsetting you so much. You know, whether he's got kids . . .'

Georgie sat up straight. ‘My God, you know I think I had a dream last night that he had twins.'

‘I think I had the same dream.'

They exchanged an uneasy glance. Georgie picked up her cup again.

‘One thing I'm pretty sure of,' said Nick, ‘I don't think he's going to give up easily. He'll keep ringing, you'll have to deal with him eventually.'

‘I could have my phone numbers changed.'

‘And what else, move? He knows where you live. And where you work.'

Georgie groaned.

‘I know it must be hard to think about seeing him,' Nick said, patting her arm consolingly. ‘But avoiding him like this says more about you than it does about him.'

‘What, that I'm pathetic?'

‘No, you're not, that's the thing,' he insisted. ‘You can do this, Georgie. See him, talk to him, and then you can put the whole thing to bed.'

Georgie frowned at him.

‘Bad choice of words,' he muttered. ‘You can put
it behind you, which is the only way you'll get over him, you realise?'

‘I know,' she sighed, gazing into her coffee cup.

‘Okay, that's enough wallowing for a Saturday morning,' said Nick, standing up. ‘What can I get you for breakfast?'

‘Don't worry about me,' Georgie said, ‘You better go pick up the girls before your goodwill runs out with Louise.'

‘Are you sure? What if I get you something while I'm out?'

Georgie shook her head. ‘I think I'm only up to Vegemite toast anyway,' she said, standing up. ‘Stop fussing, I'll be fine.'

She shooed Nick out of the house and wandered back into the kitchen, took a couple of slices of bread from the wrapper and dropped them into the toaster. Staring out the window into the garden, Georgie spotted the collection of empties on the outdoor table. That would explain the persistent drubbing in her head. Perhaps she should go to the beach later, dive into the surf, wash away the cobwebs. They could take the girls, her and Nick. She shouldn't go alone and mope. She had to move on with her life.

Georgie felt tears pricking again. What life? Liam was her life, what did she have without him . . . No, stop it. Enough wallowing for a Saturday morning, Nick said. For any morning.

The toast popped and the phone rang simultaneously, giving her a start.

‘Hello,' she said as she propped the receiver under her chin, reaching for the toast.

‘Georgie, is that you?'

Her heart missed a beat. Feeling returned to her fingers telling her the toast was hot and she cried out, flinging it away as the phone dropped to the floor. She stood for a moment, staring at the handset. She could hear Liam's voice. ‘Georgie, are you there, are you all right . . . Georgie?'

Slowly she bent down to pick up the phone, her hand trembling. God, she didn't know if she'd be able to speak, her throat felt so constricted she could barely catch her breath. She put the phone to her ear.

‘Hello,' she croaked.

‘Georgie?'

‘Yes, it's me.' She cleared her throat. ‘Sorry about that, I just . . . dropped some toast.'

‘Oh, okay,' he said hesitantly. ‘I can't believe I'm actually talking to you. I've called so many times–'

‘What do you want, Liam?' Georgie interrupted, her voice clearer now.

‘Um, well, I wanted to talk to you, Georgie.'

‘Go ahead.'

‘Well, do you think, maybe, could I see you, so we can talk properly?'

‘We can talk fine on the phone, that's what they were invented for. Don't push it, Liam.'

‘Okay,' he breathed out heavily. ‘How are you, Georgie?'

She felt tears welling again. She hated being such a sook. ‘How do you think I am, Liam?'

‘I'm sorry, Georgie, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.'

She couldn't speak.

‘Georgie?'

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?'

‘What?'

‘That you didn't want to hurt me?' said Georgie. ‘I mean, you'd be some kind of monster if you actually set out to hurt me. The fact that you seemed to have no idea that would happen is what astounds me.'

‘Georgie, I didn't . . . it just got out of hand–'

‘That is so much crap, Liam. I don't even know what that means – “It got out of hand.” Are you saying it was out of your control? Every time you picked up the phone and called me you knew exactly what you were doing.'

He didn't answer straight away. ‘I was going to make things right–'

‘You can't make it right. You can never make this right.'

He had nothing to say to that. Of course.

‘I want to know something,' said Georgie.

‘Sure, anything.'

‘Do you have children?

‘No . . . I don't.'

‘How long have you been married?'

He hesitated.

‘Liam?'

‘Fourteen years.'

‘Christ, Liam,' she breathed. That was a life. She'd destroyed a life.

‘Georgie, listen to me, I told you we were having problems. They were all about having children actually–'

‘I don't want to know.'

‘I'm not the person you think I am.'

‘No, you're not,' she said flatly. ‘I have to go.'

‘Georgie, please. Can't we meet, just to talk this out?'

‘No way, Liam. There is nothing to talk out. You have a wife, I suggest you talk it out with her.'

She hung up. For a second, no, perhaps even four or five, Georgie felt empowered. She'd told him. She'd had the upper hand and she'd maintained it. She hadn't given him an inch.

And then her face crumpled, her back slid down the door of the kitchen cabinet behind her till she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and sobbing.

Mac decided that waiting near the luggage carousel would be less confronting than standing in the arrivals lounge. He wasn't sure why he was doing this. Anna wasn't expecting him, she didn't even want him in the house when she got home. Mostly he was doing this because Georgie wanted him to. Not specifically, it's not like she suggested he meet Anna at the airport. Georgie didn't know Anna's movements, she didn't know anything about Anna. She didn't want to know. He had phoned several more times over the weekend and actually spoken to
Georgie once or twice. She'd obviously reconsidered her total blackout. However, she didn't stay on long, just long enough to reiterate that there was nothing for them to sort out, the only person he had anything to sort out with was his wife.

So here he was. Doing what Georgie wanted. The logic was totally skewed, he was fully aware of that. If he sorted things out with Anna, then he couldn't see Georgie any more. But he felt compelled. It was the only thing he could do to make Georgie happy. It made no sense at all.

He spotted Anna as she approached the carousel. And then she saw him. He didn't know what to make of her expression, taken aback, annoyed, a little surprised, mostly confused. But composure was Anna's default position, especially in public. She wouldn't make a scene.

‘What are you doing here?' she said levelly.

‘I came to pick you up.'

She considered him for a moment, and he thought she was about to say something else. But she didn't say anything, not until they were in the car, had left the parking station and were merging with the traffic heading north.

‘I don't know what this gesture is about, Mac,' she began, ‘but I assume you'll drop me home and be on your way.'

He breathed out calmly, trying not to clench the steering wheel. ‘We have to talk, Anna.'

‘There's nothing left to say.'

‘Fourteen years of marriage and there's nothing left to say?'

‘Fourteen years of marriage and you have an affair and, no,' she paused, deliberately, ‘there is nothing left to say.'

He sighed, frustrated. ‘Is this the kind of advice you'd give to a client?'

‘I don't give my clients advice, it's not what a therapist does.'

‘So you think our marriage isn't worth saving, is that what you're saying here, Anna? Because the ball appears to be in your court.'

‘What does that mean?' she frowned.

‘I know I did the wrong thing. I know I'm the one at fault. I'll take the blame entirely. But,' he paused, taking a breath, ‘I'm also prepared to work at this, to try to rebuild our marriage, if that's what you want. It's up to you.'

Anna shifted in her seat to look squarely at him. ‘Very clever, Mac.'

He glanced across at her. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Giving me the ultimatum. Repenting your sins, accepting your penance, absolving your guilt. Very Catholic of you, Mac. And now it's all up to me. You'll do whatever I want. Of course, if I say I don't want you around, then you're exonerated, your slate is clean and you can go off and be with your girlfriend with my blessing.'

‘Don't, Anna.'

‘Well, isn't that what all this is about?'

‘No, it isn't. It should please you to know she doesn't want to have anything to do with me.'

‘Oh, I see,' Anna exclaimed. ‘So I'm your only option now?'

‘Christ, Anna, can you cut it out for one frigging minute?' he cried. ‘I get that you want to hurt me, I understand. But I'm trying to do the right thing here.'

Anna laughed. It sounded hollow. ‘That's rich.'

‘I'm trying to do the right thing now,' he repeated firmly. ‘We have been married for fourteen years. I . . .' he hesitated, swallowing, ‘. . . I made a mistake.' Georgie wasn't a mistake, he could never think of her as a mistake. ‘If you can find a way to forgive me, then we can still salvage a life together out of this.'

Anna didn't say anything.

‘I moved my things into the guestroom downstairs, right away from you. If that's not acceptable then I'll start looking for somewhere tomorrow.'

She hesitated. ‘I wasn't expecting this. You can at least give me a night to sleep on it.'

‘Of course.'

They drove on in silence. Anna stared out the window. Her parents had been shocked, dumbstruck in fact. They were devastated for Anna and naturally shared her pain. But they could barely believe it of Mac. They had not been prepared for anything like this, it didn't seem to be in his character at all. And Anna felt the same. She had never doubted his love, his absolute devotion to her. Through all the tales of cheating spouses she'd had to sit and listen to over the years, she'd always consoled herself, smugly at times, that Mac would never be unfaithful. It wasn't in his constitution.

So what was she supposed to make of this? Anna
had hoped at first that it was all about sex, that there had been a number of women over a period of time. He was scratching an itch, having a midlife crisis. She knew their sex life had been less than satisfactory, a not unusual consequence of prolonged fertility treatment. They would have needed to work at it, but she believed that would have been more curable than this. As soon as he'd said it was one woman, the strongest sense of dread had engulfed her. Mac only functioned under single-minded commitment, in every area of his life. When he couldn't give that total commitment, he tended to withdraw. It was how he operated at work; it was obvious in his relationship with his family. He found it hard to revisit his childhood. He found it even harder to be around his father, to watch the way he treated his mother, to watch the way she put up with it. He couldn't do anything about it, he couldn't fix it, so he stayed away.

If Mac was having an affair with one woman, a woman who could bring tears to his eyes, then he was in love with that woman. And there was no room for Anna.