‘Didyou?’
‘Yes!’ Olivia exclaims.
‘Wow! Were they big?’ Dad’s enthusiasm begins to get through to them and soon I can’t hear myself think for all their chatter.
‘Are you alright?’ Lorraine asks quietly from beside me.
‘Yes!’ I overcompensate with my reply. ‘Did you find another cozzie?’
She smiles. ‘I did indeed. Want to see it?’
‘Sure.’ But I can’t deal with this. I can’t cope with all this noise. I need to be alone.
I find the strength to stay and play happy families, and after a while, the commotion around me calms down. Lorraine goes to make tea, Dad flops into the armchair and flips through a magazine, Kay disappears into her bedroom and the girls switch on the telly. I sit on the sofa to the left of them and allow my thoughts to take over. It soon becomes crystal clear that I cannot, I absolutelycannot, wait until Monday.
I get to my feet, full of determination. ‘I’m just going to give Richard a call,’ I tell Dad. Guilt courses through me in waves, but I walk towards the door, thinking of the hopefully-quiet corridor outside the flat.
‘Use our bedroom,’ Dad suggests. I swerve towards it. That makes more sense.
I pull out the receipt and panic hits me as I see how crumpled it’s become, but thankfully I can still read the number. I dial it into my mobile phone, making two mistakes before I get it right. My hands are shaking intensely as it begins to ring.
‘Hello?’ Ben.
‘It’s Lily.’
‘Hi!’
Warmth rushes through me at the obvious delight in his voice.
‘I couldn’t wait until Monday,’ I tell him.
‘Okay . . .’
‘I know it’s Saturday night and you’ve probably got other plans . . .’
‘I’m free. Are you free?’
‘Yes.’What about your wife?But the words won’t come out. ‘What time?’ I ask instead.
‘Seven?’
‘Fine.’
‘Where do you want to go?’
I wrack my brain. We can’t go out in Manly, as I might see someone I know. The only thing that comes to mind is one of those terrible places full of suits that Mel likes to hang out in. I suggest a bar called Porters and describe its whereabouts.
‘Cool,’ he says. ‘See you later.’
‘Bye.’ I try to press the button to end the call, but my fingers are made of stone. Eventually Ben ends the call for me.
I sit there on the bed, my heart pounding so loud I can hear it in my ears. Then I rise woodenly to my feet and return to the living room.
‘How is he?’ Dad asks.
‘Who? Oh, Richard. Yes, he’s fine,’ I jabber, feeling that guilt prickling at me again.
‘Good. He’s back on Monday, right?’
