Belinda Missen - Lessons in Love

‘Can we go up to Melbourne one night? It’s been forever since I went. It might have been that day we did lunch and looked at the Myer Christmas windows.’

Also known as: The Week Before Everything Went to Shit. Ah, the ignorant bliss.

‘Really?’ I said. ‘Of course, absolutely. We may as well do an overnight trip, make the most of the drive.’

‘See a concert?’ she suggested.

I nodded, enthused. ‘Definitely.’

After a few moments of silence, she clicked the kettle on. ‘So, Ellie returns home, huh?’

There it was – that wisp of disappointment people tried so hard to hide, with a smile, a cup of coffee, or a gentle enquiry gift wrapped in a statement that sounded more like a question. Friends had hinted as much when I decided to leave Melbourne. Are you okay? Are you having trouble coping? Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?

‘It’s not all bad news, you know.’ I folded my arms over on the counter. ‘It was months ago—’

‘Long enough for …’ She cradled an invisible infant.

Don’t think I hadn’t thought of that a thousand times over. Tick-tock-biological-clock. ‘Thank the gods we didn’t make it that far. Honestly, I’m fine. I’ve dealt with what I needed to, and I’m happy. Sure, it still stings a little, and it might look like I’m running home with my tail between my legs, but at least I have a job—’

‘Bonus!’

‘—and, really, it just felt like the right time to make a fresh start.’

It also didn’t hurt that I’d had several weeks without the responsibility of a job to simply enjoy life again. It had been a welcome break, a chance to re-evaluate life, and work through my plan of attack. Money was tight, but the rent was paid, and I had enough to see me through to at least the first payday or two. It really wasn’t the worst thing ever. After all, I’d been through worse.

‘Everyone at school is peachy keen to meet you. I caught up with some of the girls last weekend. We should all go out for dinner. Why don’t we do that tonight? Should we?’

I waved a hand. ‘Not tonight. I just want to rest.’

‘Good, good.’ Water sloshed up the sides of the coffee cups as she poured, one after the other. Milk, sugar, and sewing tin biscuits.

‘Maybe next weekend?’ I tried. ‘Let me get settled in first.’

‘Speaking of settling in.’ Penny slinked away towards the front door. ‘Let’s get you unpacked, that way it’s done, and we can relax.’

Squeezing past each other like rabbits in a warren, we ferried my belongings inside one box at a time. Initially, we stacked them neatly by the door, careful not to make too much of a mess. By the final drop, full of bric-a-brac, I didn’t care. I tossed my armful on the bed and hoped for the best.

The last battered cardboard box, held together by rounds of red electrical tape and a bit of luck, bounced a little as it landed on the bed. A picture frame spilled out onto the duvet, anxious to escape. Not today, Satan. He of wandering penis was not welcome in this bed or near this house, lest he curse this new life, too. I snatched the rose gold artefact up and, before I could stuff it back into the box or set fire to it like it rightfully deserved, I looked at the carefully posted photo.

It was nothing too dissimilar to your average, spent-way-too-much wedding photos. The suit and tie were worthy of Casino Royale , crisp and cut in all the right places, and the white dress that had been painstakingly made over weeks, months even. It was sleek and modern, no garish beading or bones poised to turn my body into a cocktail frank on the receiving end of a toothpick at a moment’s notice. It was all just perfect, blissful, happiness.

Until it wasn’t.

Penny appeared by my side, snatching the frame from my hand.

‘Why?’ She waved it about like a bag of freshly laid dog turd. ‘Just … why?’

‘I have zero idea.’ My shoulders hugged the bottoms of my ears. ‘There was probably a nanosecond in which my not-so-romantic-anymore heart thought things could be fixed. A brief second of weakness where, maybe, if he’d told me he’d simply tripped and fallen into her, I might have believed him, and things would be okay again.’

‘Tripped and fell into her?’ she squawked. ‘Ellie, you deserve better than a stupid excuse like that.’

Firm, but fair.

‘I don’t know,’ I tried.

I snatched the frame back from her and tossed it into the waste paper basket beside the bed without a second thought. The brittle glass finally gave way and cracked, feathery webs spread almost faultlessly down the centre of the photo, across smiles and up-dos, vows and promises. Perfection be gone.

‘Nice shot.’ She gave me an upside-down smile and left the room. ‘Well done, you.’

* * *

While I busied myself sorting belongings onto shelves, clothes on hangers and shoes into racks, Penny kept herself occupied with dinner. I thought of suggesting takeaway after all, but a quick check of my banking app suggested it may be best if I skipped the credit abuse and waited until payday.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, we set ourselves up on our small deck. It was just off the side of the small dining area and sat smartly above the carport. In one corner, a single-serve barbecue, and a faded wooden table in the middle. All the rattling and cursing that came from the kitchen had given way to steak, garlic butter, and a pineapple infused coleslaw.

‘I do at least have a bottle of champagne.’ Penny gave the bottle a violent shake. I cowered as it popped with little more than the excitement of a dead toaster. Warm cola had more fizz.

‘Oh well.’ I took the glass from her. ‘It’ll do.’

‘Sláinte.’ Penny chinked the edge of her glass with mine.

‘Huh?’

‘It’s Scottish for health,’ she explained proudly. ‘Learned it from my Mr December, Richard.’

‘Your who now?’ I laughed.

She gave a wistful Hallmark sigh and gazed up at the heavens as if they’d suddenly part and drop this magical Richard back into her lap. ‘Richard, aptly named for what I was using him for, was visiting the area, surfing, travelling …’

‘Shagging,’ I laughed, glass pressed against my bottom lip. ‘You’re … I have no words for you.’

‘A multicultural woman of the world,’ she declared, finger poking at the air. ‘Speaking of which, let me catch you up on the people of our world.’

Had I really been gone that long? It certainly hadn’t felt like it. I still came back for Christmases, birthdays, Easters, long weekends when I could wrangle Dean away from his job. Then again, when you’re busy inside your own bubble, it can make the outside world a little hazy. Because, as Penny began rattling off happening and incidents, it became apparent just how much I had missed.

Our cousin Sam was married to Mary. I was sure I’d been at that wedding. It involved a rustic barn in Dean’s Marsh, hurricane lamps and an oversized Polaroid frame fit for the hashtag #SNMWedding on Instagram. Not surprisingly, it hadn’t caught on. But now he had kids? I really was out of touch. The realisation was sobering, and I quickly downed the contents of my glass.

‘One, with another on the way.’ Penny pushed her steak around the pool of garlic butter on her plate. ‘And Sophie, his sister, has had three boyfriends in the last twelve months. Each of them were “The One”, mind. We were rolled out every time for dinner to meet Huey, Dewey, and Louie.’

‘That old chestnut,’ I grumbled. ‘How about your parents?’

‘My parents are as they are.’ She shrugged. ‘Nothing really changes with them. Dad wants to retire, but I don’t think he wants to spend all day with Mum. Not that I blame him, of course. Mum has a new hobby every second week.’