Our Kind of Love (21 page)
He took a step back and pushed a hand through his hair. ‘Something’s gotta give, Anna. It’s all loved-up super-couples around here. It’s driving me nuts.’ He laughed at himself, something that Anna found incredibly sexy.
‘It’s nice that someone’s loved up, don’t you think? Just because we’re miserable, it doesn’t mean they have to be.’
‘Absolutely. Especially my sister. It’s just that most of the time I feel like a spare prick at a wedding around here. And I know that’s not about them, it’s about me. You know how long it is since I’ve had some fun?’ Joe looked out to the ocean, his blue eyes squinting into the mid-afternoon sun, which caught and shimmered on the fine hair of his arms and glistened each grain of sand that was clinging to his fingers, his chest, his face.
‘Fun?’ Anna asked rhetorically. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s been years. That’s hard to admit. It’s been years since I’ve laughed like I have today. With you.’
Anna joined him in staring out at the water and the white-capped waves. She knew what he meant. She hadn’t had this much fun in years, either. Out there in the water, making an absolute and total fool of herself, was sure as hell the craziest thing she’d ever done. She’d let go, laughed at herself, let herself be guided by Joe, listened intently to him. There was something about him that was reassuring, safe. She knew in her gut that he wouldn’t let her drown out there in the blue, blue waters off Middle Point.
And when it came down to it, she hadn’t laughed this much in years either. And that was totally dangerous because she was a total sucker for a man who could make her laugh. Something was pulling them close, she could feel it. Like stitches on a scar, pulling tighter.
‘You’re not such a bad teacher,’ Anna admitted, not meeting his eyes. She watched as, out on the waves, a teenage girl leapt from her prone position up onto her feet and rode a wave as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe one day she’d be like that.
‘And for someone who’s such a smartypants, you’re not such a bad student.’
Anna kept staring at the water and the gulls overhead and the breaking waves on the perfect white sand.
‘So what do you say? You in the mood for some more fun, Dr Morelli?’
When she finally let herself look at him, she couldn’t figure out what was sexier – his bare chest, his smiling mouth or his offer. It was a hard call.
‘Fun?’
‘Yeah. With me. We’ve got the whole long weekend down here. Let’s not waste it.’
And right then, a freedom she hadn’t felt in a long time bubbled up inside her, was clearly liberated by being with Joe and laughing with him.
Her answer was yes.
An hour and a half later – Joe wouldn’t have wasted more than ten minutes before the chance to see Anna again but he knew women usually needed a little more – the two of them were sitting by an open window in the Middle Point pub with a chilled bottle of wine and two half-filled glasses decorating the table between them.
Anna was staring at him as if he’d just announced he’d enlisted in the Army. ‘You’re going to work here. At the pub. For your sister.’
‘Sounds like some fun, huh? Me and the barflies. Pouring a few beers, chinwagging, free meals. I can’t see a downside to the new gig.’
‘But aren’t you a reporter? Aren’t you going to go back to that?’
Joe thought he knew the answer to that question. It had always been a resounding ‘hell yes’. He’d made some enquiries about work, was waiting for answers that seemed a long time coming. The brilliant Middle Point weather and Anna’s company were making the wait easier to bear.
‘That’s a very good question,’ he said and shrugged.
‘Which is the answer people give when they don’t want to tell the truth,’ Anna replied with a wry smile.
‘Oh Anna, don’t expect Stinkface to tell you the truth about anything.’ Lizzie had arrived with the plate of food they’d ordered and she placed it with a flourish between them on the white linen tablecloth. It was a tantalising display of dips, cured meats, cheese and chunks of fresh bread.
‘To what do we owe this special treatment from the manager?’ Joe asked with a tease for his sister.
‘It’s not for you, Stinkface. You’re the hired help now. It’s for Anna. She is our special guest, after all.’
‘Thanks, Lizzie. It’s looks incredible and I’m starving.’ Anna reached for a chunk of bread and chewed it hungrily.
Lizzie propped her hands on her hips and Joe feared she might be ready to settle in for a conversation.
‘How did the surfing lesson go? Did you get up on the board?’
Anna shared a knowing glance with Joe and tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘No, I didn’t. It was so embarrassing. How do all those little kids make it look so easy? It’s way harder than it looks.’
‘She’s a great student. She’ll get it eventually.’ Joe grabbed some bread and slathered it with some pale pink taramasalata. Surfing was hungry work. So was controlling yourself when you were in very close proximity to the unbelievable Dr Anna Morelli.
‘We’re trying again tomorrow, aren’t we Anna?’ He was playing her. Would she still want to put on a brave face for the others and not admit that she was considering giving up? What had she called it?
La bella figura
.
Anna’s wide eyes and disappearing smile said it all. ‘We are?’ She almost choked out the words as she chewed.
‘Absolutely. Bright and early.’
Anna took a slug of her wine and rested her elbows on the table, linking her fingers under her chin. ‘You’re not going to give up on me, are you?’
Joe shook his head and tried not to read a double meaning into either her question or his answer. ‘Nope. What kind of a teacher would I be if I did that?’
‘Well,’ Lizzie said with a glance over her shoulder back to the bar. ‘Enjoy. I’ll see you both tonight at Ry and Julia’s. It’s movie night, remember?’
‘See you tonight,’ Anna said.
Before Lizzie left she turned back with a grin on her face. ‘Word of warning about my brother, Anna. You might think you’re having a simple conversation with him but he’ll really be throwing a million questions at you and, before you know it, you’ve told him your whole life story.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘Bloody journalists.’
They watched as Lizzie headed back to her office. Anna popped a cube of feta into her mouth. ‘So, you didn’t answer my question. Are you really going to give up the news and become a bartender?’
The tone in Anna’s voice wasn’t just disbelieving; it was almost disapproving and it irked him.
‘Lizzie’s worked here almost her whole life. You got a problem with jobs like this, smartypants?’
‘No, not at all. I have nothing against good honest work. I just assumed you’d find another job as a journalist.’
‘Those jobs are disappearing from every news market right across the country and, until something good comes along, I’m happy to work here. You see, Dr Morelli, I don’t care what people think about me.’
Anna considered his words. ‘If that doesn’t work out, you could always teach surfing.’
He grinned and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. ‘Having failed spectacularly at that today.’
‘You’ve got to chill, Joe. You’ll get there eventually.’ His own words came echoing back to him from the smiling lips of the woman he’d been dreaming about and they suddenly took on a whole new meaning.
‘I really hope so,’ he said.
Anna averted her eyes and picked at the plate, taking a bite out of a piece of sliced salami. ‘It’s actually none of my business what you do, to be honest. I only thought you’d want to get back to doing what you do best. Were you a good journalist?’
‘I used to think so. Hang on,’ Joe paused. ‘Are you saying you’ve never heard of me?’
‘Sorry, no,’ Anna shrugged. She reached for her wine glass and sipped from it. The movement of her full red lips on the glass was almost enough to distract him from the sudden jolt back to earth. All those years he’d believed he was changing the world one headline at a time. Doing important work. But since he’d been sacked the world had gone on spinning around, people had continued on with their lives without his exclusive stories. Life in Middle Point was the same whether he was a journalist or not. He’d always known that today’s newspaper was tomorrow’s chip wrapping but he really felt it now.
‘I was quite successful, you know. I won a Walkley Award three years ago for my series on safety breaches on some of Sydney’s biggest building developments.’
‘What’s a Walkley Award?’ Anna asked through a mouthful of dip.
‘Only Australia’s most respected awards for journalism.’
Anna sighed. ‘Sorry, Joe, I’m sure it’s all very important, but I’m out here in the real world. Dealing with sick people and babies and death and dying and cancer and disability. Those kinds of disasters. That doesn’t leave me much time to pick up tomorrow’s recycling to read about the latest celebrity divorce or starlet’s nipple slip.’
Joe folded his arms and leaned on to the table. He studied the half-empty bottle and decided he needed to order another one. ‘There are some things I really miss about my old life.’
‘What? Having people fawn all over you because you’re some big-time journalist?’ Anna said with a smile.
‘It was kind of nice sometimes, knowing that people read what I wrote, that I made a difference. But of course,’ he narrowed his eyes, ‘it’s not like I was curing cancer or delivering babies.’
‘Exactly,’ she teased.
Anna looked out the window to the view, along the coast that disappeared into the haze. He watched her face soften, her brown eyes concentrate on the view and her words were dreamlike when she spoke. ‘You know what?’
‘What?’
‘There are some things about my old life I don’t miss at all, now that I think about it.’
And then she met his eyes and smiled.
Lizzie was trying really hard not to look across the pub at her brother and the lovely Anna Morelli but it was excruciating not to. From her position behind the bar and partially hidden by one of the drinks fridges, she could see just enough flirting going on to tell her that they wouldn’t have the faintest clue that she was spying on them. They looked just the slightest bit wrapped up in each other.
This was all working out beautifully. Lizzie knew there was something about the pub that wove a special magic on people looking for love. It had brought Ry back to Middle Point and was the scene for his meeting with Julia after fifteen years apart. Almost right where she was standing, just a few footsteps away, was the exact spot she’d first laid eyes on Dan McSwaine. And that was turning out just beautifully, thanks for asking.
Lizzie sighed and felt a warm glow deep inside. She folded her arms in front of her, like a warm hug. Her brother deserved to find someone else after what he’d been through. And so did Anna. Where they the right people for each other? She hoped so. She’d done her part already, throwing them into each other’s path months before, on the night of Ry and Julia’s wedding. She’d schemed to make sure Joe was Anna’s light relief. It was always a sad thing when you had to rescue a broken-hearted woman from a crying jag in the ladies’ loo. Joe had been an almost willing participant in the no-strings-attached dancing with Anna later that night. And Lizzie had a fair idea what had happened after said dancing, too.
But that was her little secret.
Like hell it was. She fished for her phone in the pocket of her tan skirt and punched in Julia’s contact.
‘It’s me,’ she whispered.
‘I know it’s you.’
‘I’m not gossiping, I promise. But my brother and Anna are having a drink together. In the pub.’
Lizzie could hear Julia chuckling down the line. ‘It’s working, isn’t it?’
‘Looks like it. I have skills in this area as evidenced by the work I did to make sure you and Ry had your happy ending.’
‘Hah!’ Julia scoffed. ‘That had nothing to do with you.’
‘As if.’
‘I’m the one with the skills. Who do you think it was that pushed you and Dan together?’
‘You’ve got a point.’ Lizzie tore her attention away from Joe and Anna and walked down the narrow corridor to the back of the pub and her office. She found the key in her pocket and opened the door, swung it closed behind her.
‘So, Lizzie, are we going to combine our mystical forces and see what we can do for two lonely people with the biggest broken hearts this side of McLaren Vale?’
‘I’m on it,’ Julia replied. ‘Let’s start with tonight. Do we have champagne?’
‘Already on ice.’
‘Chocolate?’
‘Who do you think you’re talking to? Of course there’s chocolate.’
‘Now. To the most important part,’ Julia’s voice grew serious. ‘What movie are we watching?’
‘Leave that to me.’
Later that night, the end titles for the Australian movie
Red Dog
had just scrolled across the screen and Ry, Julia, Dan, Lizzie, Joe and Anna were silent. The two couples were cuddled up on the sofa; Julia with legs outstretched on a pillow resting on the coffee table, Ry next to her with an arm around her shoulders. Lizzie sat in Dan’s lap, her arms tucked around his waist, her head on his shoulder. Joe was on the floor with his back resting against the seat and way down at the other end, Anna sat clutching a ball of soggy tissues.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. The sniffs competed with a few whispered ‘bloody hells’ and ‘oh my Gods’.
Anna couldn’t find any words. Her voice was knotted in a big ball of emotion wedged in her throat. She was thankful for the darkness, both inside the house and outside from the beach. Hopefully no one would be able to see her streaked tears and puffy eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d cried so much – sobbed even – at a film about a dog. She’d never even had a dog when she was a child and was never even wistful when she saw other people’s dogs.
So what was with the crying?
She grabbed another tissue from the box Julia had thoughtfully placed on the low coffee table and tried not to look at anyone else in the room.
Julia was the first to speak. ‘I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones but that was the saddest movie I’ve ever seen.’
