Читать книгу Just As You Are - Kate Mathieson - Страница 10

‘Why haven’t you called him?’ Tansy demanded.

We were sitting in Miss Marmalade, a cosy bungalow café, nestled into a corner booth, filled with plump pink cushions. Tansy, sleep-deprived, had almost fallen asleep twice in five minutes. She’d apologised – having three children meant sleep was a foreign concept. She’d also brought her toddler Brie with her, who was happily biting down on an old rabbit toy as if it tasted like chocolate.

In a few minutes, we’d managed a quick catch-up of events. Tansy had shared how it had been seven years since she’d gone to the toilet or had a shower by herself, and thank goodness for the new au pair who was looking after Toby, all of which reminded me of what my life might have been like, had I stayed and married Murray. And I’d given Tansy my highlights reel of my last seven years, finishing with Nick without adding in the not showing up to a seafood lunch bit, because I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud yet. Which had made her eyes widen. She’d muttered, ‘Oh, wow, single life,’ and then demanded I call him.

‘Nick sounds really nice. Give me one bad thing about him,’ Tansy protested on behalf of a man she’d never met.

‘He sleeps with girls on the first night,’ I pointed out then added silently, and he gives girls the wrong phone number.

‘And so did you,’ Tansy challenged me.

‘Exactly! It was a fling, and a really good one, but nothing more than that.’ I took a bite of my sourdough toast with avocado. ‘Besides, I’m not looking for a fling. I want to find someone, you know, forever.’

‘Well,’ Tansy said, thinking aloud. ‘He seems to like everything you do: travelling, he’s got banter, he’s apparently gorgeous, he’s got a good career—’

‘Which he seemed to really hate.’

Tansy raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ve never regretted a job?’ Then kept on rattling off her list. ‘He’s got a timeshare in Fiji, which means he’s financially stable, he’s spontaneous, going for a skinny dip, but seemed attentive what with getting you drinks and towels, and being quite a gentleman. Yes, he slept with you on the first night – I’m not suggesting you marry him, but a little coffee date could be good,’ Tansy said, nibbling the side of her cream cheese blueberry bagel, then she put it down and yawned. ‘Speaking of coffees, where are ours?’

She looked up at the waitress in hope, who signalled they’d be out shortly.

‘I think really all he wanted was to get in my trousers.’ I smiled wryly. ‘And he did a very good job.’

Tansy looked down at my comfy extra-large black trousers, which I’d chosen because they were the only ones in my wardrobe that still fitted. ‘Well, they are nice trousers.’

We laughed. We’d always shared the same type of humour since we met at kindergarten.

‘These? Did you want a catwalk? I’ve been to Italy, I know how they do it in Milan,’ I said in a fun, teasing voice, kicking out a leg trying to look seductive, but ending up looking more like an awkward newborn fawn learning to walk.

‘Well, I think you should consider him, at least for a coffee.’ Tansy was as stubborn as a mule most of the time. But I loved that about her.

I shrugged.

Tansy swallowed audibly and paused, before finally saying, ‘Have you talked to him since you got back?’

‘Him?’ Then I realised she didn’t mean Nick, she meant Murray. He’s not coming.

Tansy must have seen the look on my face, because she quickly said, ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.’ She looked flustered.

‘It’s OK.’ I looked at her. ‘It was a long time ago. And no, to answer your question, I haven’t seen him, talked to him, thought about him. Much.’

‘Facebook stalked?’

I half smiled. ‘Maybe once. Years ago.’

‘And?’

‘He’d blocked me. But I heard through the grapevine, he’s married. Kids. House in the burbs. All the trimmings.’

‘Oh.’

I took a sip of water. ‘It’s OK, Tans, it is. I didn’t want those things.’

‘Didn’t or don’t?’ she asked softly.

‘Didn’t.’ I looked up at her. ‘I mean, I still don’t want a house with a massive mortgage, on the busline, and a nine to five job in an office for another forty years. But I think I do want to get a job, buy a house, and get married.’

‘You think?’

‘Fine, I want. Is that better?’ I decided to tell Tansy about The Plan. It was pinned to my corkboard at home, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up each morning. I’d even gone as far as to cut out some images that looked like the house I’d want (country cottage) and some really cheesy advertisements of couples laughing as they did things together (I think they were trying to sell mortgage insurance). It felt extremely cheesy, but vision boards were a thing, apparently; besides, it couldn’t hurt. I confessed all this to Tansy.

When she finished laughing, she said brightly, ‘Well, didn’t Nick give you his number? Step three, possible tick.’

I groaned. ‘Marrying us off already? Please. Anyway, the number he gave me could be a fake. It could be for the local pizza place.’

‘Well, I could go for a full meat-lovers with barbecue sauce.’ Tansy sighed. ‘I’m all for eating my feelings at the moment. Or just eating for energy. I’m so tired I can’t tell any more.’ Tansy was as slim as a rake, and tall, she’d be a size ten at the most, and had beautiful long dark hair, dark cocoa eyes, and olive skin. The last thing she needed to worry about was eating too much.

I handed her the menu. ‘I’m a supportive friend – if you need to eat everything on this menu, I’ll pay for half. I’d pay for it all, but, you know.’ I shook my wallet and a scant few coins jangled. ‘I don’t know if I could cover it.’

Tansy grinned ruefully. ‘This friend doesn’t need your money. She just wants her friend to find a partner, so she has something to do on the weekends when the rest of us are knee-high in diapers.’ She scanned the menu. ‘Although a little piece of lemon pie couldn’t hurt, could it?’

‘Get the lemon pie,’ I encouraged her. ‘Anyway, sometimes it’s better not knowing. What if I tried to call Nick, and got Luigi’s pizza palace? Sometimes ignorance is bliss.’

‘What do you mean?’

I quickly told her about sitting at Freshwaters, and his disconnected number. I brushed it off a bit, but it had really hurt. She let out a long huffy breath ‘What is with some people? God. I’m sorry that happened to you. You’re right don’t ever call him. Well you don’t have his number to call, do you? What a dick. We shall never ever speak of him again.’

I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me, she really was the most loyal friend. ‘Thanks Tansy. Anyway’ I said, keen to change the subject. ‘I do need to find a job though.’ I opened up the newspaper on the café’s table in front of us. All I could see were ads for chefs and kitchen hands, so I shut it firmly. It reminded me too much of Los Tacos, which made me shudder as the waitress delivered our coffees. ‘What about public relations? Or marketing? Do you think I could do that back here?’

Tansy narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. ‘Need I remind you of how much you wanted to leave your marketing job? I believe you told me never to let you work in an office again.’

I laughed. ‘I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I’m older and wiser now,’ I teased. ‘Plus, I made great tea in the London office and didn’t get too claustrophobic.’

‘Hmm …’ she said, staring at me. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ I nodded my head. ‘Ever since I realized I was leaving London months ago, I’ve been sending out my CV for any PR job I can find, even assistant ones, gosh, even receptionist roles in PR firms. But not one response.’ I was feeling quite dejected about that. ‘I keep getting told “you don’t have enough experience”, or “you don’t have the right experience”. All those long days working at Forster & Wolfe, as a PR Assistant, hasn’t helped me at all.’

‘Well, then, I’ve got some good news for you.’ She took a long sip of coffee. ‘Oh, God, caffeine, what would I do without it?’ She paused and closed her eyes. ‘Sorry, I just need to let this soak in. I got a total of three hours’ sleep last night. I’m like an eternal zombie.’ Tansy downed her coffee in three large gulps. ‘Anyway, it’s a favour.’

‘For me, or you, or someone else?’

‘For everyone possibly.’ Tansy got out her phone and started scrolling. ‘When I heard you were back in town, I put out some feelers, and, well, I may have mentioned you worked in PR in London.’ Tansy looked up at me. ‘Anyway, I talked to Jess and Mona, and they talked to Beattie, and she talked to a few other people.’

When I looked blank, Tansy said, ‘Friends from my previous life, when I worked at Sony and Universal.’ Aha, I twigged. Tansy used to be a senior manager in marketing and sales, which meant we’d got a lot of red-carpet premiere tickets and stacks of free DVDs. We all missed those days a bit. ‘And they know someone, who knows someone else, who’s looking for a PR and events person.’

I sat up straighter, and felt a tingle of excitement rush through my body. ‘I could do that.’

I imagined travelling across Sydney, maybe even Australia. Putting on events, meeting clients, maybe they’d even let me draw the designs for an ad campaign, or an event invitation.

Tansy nodded. ‘I know you could! Which is maybe why I told them you were really experienced.’

‘How experienced?’ I bit my lip.

‘Well, that you’d had a lot of international experience, and had run your own events before, and been a PR superstar really.’ She looked bashful. ‘I think I just got carried away, because I wanted you to find a job so you actually stayed in Sydney, rather than leaving us again.’ Her face looked crumpled and sad.

‘Oh, Tansy! I’m here to stay now. Promise.’ I gulped. ‘But I have nowhere near that experience.’

Suddenly her face flushed with excitement. ‘I haven’t told you the best bit yet – the job is with Maker.’

My heart thumped in my chest. Maker was the place to work. It was a swish multi-service PR and media, events, advertising and marketing firm, with a stellar reputation. They were known as creative, funky with a cool edge, and the one of the leading companies in Australia. People were excited about working at Maker, because it meant international job offers would literally drop at your feet. After a few years you could walk out of Maker and stride into a top job in New York, or London, or Italy.

I paused. ‘Is there a reason they don’t want someone else, who’s actually amazing? I know you talked me up, but surely there are hundreds of people more qualified and dying to work at Maker?’

‘Ah,’ Tansy said. ‘Well, they need someone who wants to do the work, and doesn’t mind, ah, how do I put this? Being paid a nominal amount.’

‘You mean tiny.’

She nodded. ‘I mean tiny.’

‘What exactly is that, in dollar figures?’

‘I’m not sure exactly, they wouldn’t let on, just they didn’t have the full budget to cover what they wanted, so they’re looking for someone who wants to get Maker on their CV, and doesn’t mind “getting dirty”. I take that to mean what it normally does in corporate speak, which is doing a LOT of work, long hours with bad pay. But it will work out in the end for you.’

‘It will work out in the end,’ I repeated her words, thinking that if I had Maker on my CV I could get a job anywhere after that. I could be in Paris again. Or Rome. Or London. Or even better – in just a few years I could create my own PR firm in a small town, and then paint on the weekends – yes! I could do this!

‘Of course, you’re going to have to apply, just like everyone else. But at least they know to look out for you, and I’m sure they’ll give you an interview,’ Tansy said, handing me a scrap of paper with Maker’s details.

‘But my CV? I mean, I don’t really have that experience,’ I worried.

‘Em, you’ve travelled around the world by yourself for almost a decade. I’m sure you can handle some press releases and putting on some events.’

‘True, but wouldn’t I be lying?’

‘Who doesn’t lie a little on their CV?’ She shrugged. ‘Isn’t that a given? No one believes in the honesty and integrity of CVs.’ She laughed loudly. ‘Now, here comes my lemon pie!’

Right on cue, Brie dropped her dummy and started bawling as if a thousand ants had just bit her. Tansy had to abort the lemon pie mission because, instead of calming down, Brie got even louder, her red face now nearing a troubling shade of purple. Finally, Tansy picked Brie up in a wrestler-style grip, threw some money down on the counter, and waved as she stormed out – yelling, ‘Another time soon!’

I think I must have had a horrified look on my face. I was sitting looking at an empty chair, and a lone little piece of lemon pie, knowing I’d have to eat it.

She was halfway down the path when she yelled back, ‘And for God’s sake, apply for that job!’