Belinda Missen - Lessons in Love

In an alcove, parents who were silently praying for no injuries or outbursts from their four children. Not quite outside their earshot, a hen’s party clucked to life with the appearance of the perennial favourite: the penis straws.

No, don’t do it.

The local football team had congregated around the bar, insular worshipping mixed with the scratching of heads and arguing about who did or didn’t have the best mark of their recent Grand Final. In the centre of it all, ensconced with back slapping and the odd hoot, was Marcus. Still dressed for work, he sipped from a wine glass and looked my way.

Our eyes met in a slow-motion moment that could have only been choreographed better had Baz Luhrmann turned up with a fish tank and a fancy-dress party. Taking that for the omen it was, I ignored the cotton candy feeling that filled my limbs and ordered a drink. The less I saw of Marcus and his beautiful, but irritatingly smug face tonight, the better.

‘Penis face,’ I grumbled, hoisting myself onto a sticky bar stool.

‘What was that, love?’ Mr Bartender, my new best friend, appeared out of nowhere. He looked cool, like he’d seen it all, blue and white check tea towel over his shoulder, and more faded tattoos than a middle-aged interstate truck driver.

‘Sorry, a glass of pinot gris, please.’ That’ll fool him. Ha. ‘Actually, make it a lemon meringue martini. I need something to really burn through this week.’

Glass in hand, I pirouetted through the crowd, and was spat out the other side into a beer garden. After today, it was just the tropical oasis I needed. With its overhanging green fronds, large palm in the corner, and synthetic turf, it was a fresh break from the monotony of desks, lost pens and a heaving inbox.

We were a small congregation split amongst standing benches and tiny booths made from recycled packing pallets, and mingling became the adult version of musical chairs. At one point, I got stuck with Glenn, Grade Three teacher, who enjoyed Humphrey Bogart films, and was desperate to get some vegan options on the canteen menu. I wasn’t sure our little school was ready for quinoa or tofish, but I wasn’t about to knock his enthusiasm either.

Grace was desperate for a husband and, after a failed engagement and an AWOL boyfriend, had her sights sets upon Marcus. Lucky for him, he was still busy inside with his football club. Her reasoning was the very solid, ‘He’s great with kids and he’s hot. What more could I want?’

Patience, a good heart, commitment, amongst other things.

I considered her words for a few sips of a cocktail as we peered into the bar. There he was, all wrinkly eyes and wide smiles, tie gone, and finally looking relaxed amongst friends. Moving around our group, I landed next to Jack, who had a small audience of his own.

‘I’ve been madly waiting for you make your way over here.’ He wriggled about in his seat and made room for me between himself and Jane.

‘Me?’ I joked. ‘Never.’

‘Yes, you. We were just saying we should play a little game of Get to Know Eleanor, because I think I’m the only one here besides Penny who actually knows you. And, really, I’m sure that doesn’t count because we were like twelve and fourteen at the time and I have a lot of years to catch up on.’

‘Wait.’ I spun in my seat. ‘I thought you were older than that?’

‘Thank you so very much.’ He did little to hide his disgust. ‘I was only ever a few years older than you.’

‘Consider my mind blown.’

‘I’m so offended.’ He sank the last of his wine with a cheeky laugh and a wink. ‘Anyway. Ellie, fast facts.’

‘Shoot.’ I rubbed my hands together and tried to ignore the fact that Marcus was beginning to orbit.

‘Favourite drink?’

I picked up my drink, making a display of it for those around the table. ‘Lemon meringue martini. At least tonight, anyway.’

‘Single? Married? Otherwise?’ Jane asked.

‘Harem,’ I joked, folding my legs underneath me. I waited for the laughter to die down. ‘I am single.’

‘If you had to pick one meal from the pub tonight, what would it be?’ Jack shrugged.

‘For quick and dirty, a ploughman’s lunch. I mean, if you can’t get a platter of cheese, meats and cornichons right, what hope have you got? It makes a perfect picnic, too.’ I could slam down some pickle juice right now, I thought.

‘And onions.’ Marcus’s voice cut across the outdoor space as he pulled a chair up opposite me. Grace shuffled aside to let him in but, with the look she was giving him, she was hoping to make room for him in her pants, too.

I said nothing. Everyone else offered up the best confused looks.

‘What about a long meal?’ Glenn looked glumly at his empty beer. ‘Say, if someone were to cook for you.’

I huffed. ‘Really? Anything I haven’t cooked. I mean, it’s been that long since someone cooked a meal for me, I’d probably settle for a Happy Meal and a sundae at this stage. Although, saying that, I do realise that is still fast food, but I’m sure you get the picture.’

On the subject of food, we ordered an assortment of share plates, all picked through the very scientific method of throwing bar nuts at the menu. Oh, and a ploughman’s platter. The night wore on, plates stacked higher, and every time Marcus came near me, I moved away, until I couldn’t move any further.

Penny, who’d earlier vanished into the throng, resurfaced in my inbox. She was leaving, her message said, with contact details for where she was headed. At least she was being safe, I thought as I scrolled through the length of her message. Still, I wanted to catch her before she vanished into the night. Excusing myself, I left the table, brushing past Marcus on my way through. He reached out, fingers slipping through mine as I placed a hand out to stop him.

When I couldn’t find Penny or her mystery man, I called an end to my own night. I’d had enough to drink, was suitably buzzed, and wasn’t keen on making a complete tit of myself in front of people I’d barely known a week. Good Vibes Ellie was ready to be tucked into bed. I said my goodbyes to cries of, ‘But it’s only just gone eleven, stay for one more drink!’ before making a beeline for the door.

Stepping out onto the street, I pulled my coat tighter around me and tucked my hands under my arms.

‘Eleanor, stop.’ Marcus burst out the front door, squeezing between two people, one arm wrangling his coat about his head. ‘Wait.’

I shot him a filthy look over my shoulder and kept walking.

‘Which way to your place?’ His jacket finally slipped over his shoulders with the soft rustle of expensive fabric.

My eyes widened. ‘I beg yours?’

‘I take it you’re walking home?’ he asked.

‘No, George Jetson was about to pick me up from the taxi rank.’ I swung my arm out and mimicked the noise of the cartoon flying car. ‘I was going to go home and have Rosie make me a pot of tea.’

‘Smart arse,’ he grumbled. ‘You’ve only ingested about half the bar.’

‘Oh, and I suppose you’re going to suddenly mine your stash of chivalry, are you?’ I kept up the quick walk along the main street.

‘Actually, I am,’ he argued. ‘Because I don’t think you should be walking home alone.’

‘ You don’t want me walking home alone?’ I stopped on the spot, outside a pie shop that was in the throes of closing for the night, barely a light left on in the place. A teenager moved back and forth with a dirty old mop while a blue-light bug zapper burned brightly above the kitchen door. I turned the buttons on my coat. ‘I suppose you think you’re doing a community service, too. You’re so bloody conceited.’

‘Let me get this straight.’ He shifted on his feet and shoved a hand in his pocket. ‘I’ve just told you I’d like to walk you home to make sure you get there safely, because God knows where Penny’s gone. She obviously cares so much about your welfare that she left you alone in a bar. And you’re the one attacking me?’