At the moment, though, her phone was ringing, and that was social contact, right? She looked at the caller ID. Jess. At least it wasn’t spam.
“You’re calling me on Saturday night?” she asked the moment she’d picked up. “Unusual for you.”
“Because you need to get over here,” Jess shouted over a hubbub that would make an out-of-control classroom sound serene. “Half the Blues team is likely to turn up after the match, I’ve just heard, and you actually know one of them!”
“One I can’t date,” Skylar said. “Why would I turn up for that?”
“What?” Jess shouted.
“Mum,”Finlay said. “We can’t hear, and I think one of these guys is probably going to die!”
“Hang on, Jess,” Skylar said. “He’s not going to die,” she told Finlay, “so you can stop wishing. They don’t do death in reality shows.”
“It’s not very realistic, then,” Finlay said. “It’s asurvivalprogram. Doesn’t somebody have tonotsurvive to make it interesting? Wait. This is a good part. There’s scary music, so he probablyisgoing to fall in the water and get hypothermia or something. Or maybe get bitten by a Tasmanian devil. Or a snake. Tasmania doesn’t have nearly as many dangerous snakes as other places in Australia, but there are still two that can kill people. And Tasmanian devils have the strongest bite force for their size of any mammal on Earth.”
Skylar said, “One can always hope,” and took the phone into the kitchen. “I’m back,” she told Jess, dumping Snowball off the benchtopagain.“What were you asking?”
“All right, I’ve moved outside,” Jess said. “Bloody cold out here, even under cover. Why on earth would you not pull on a dress—donotwear those jeans again. Bootcut, that’s what you need—trowel on the makeup, and come have some actual fun with me? I’m at Schapiro’s near Eden Park, and I’m telling you, this is thespotto meet men. In an hour or so, it’ll be the spot to meetmanlymen. Heaps of time for you to get here.”
“When have I ever done that?” Skylar asked. “In the past five years, for instance? Oh, wait. Once. Speed dating. Which went so well, it’s a wonder I haven’t repeated it.”
“When you met ZaneMahuta,”Jess said, “who’s your pupil’sdad,and whom you met again two weeks ago! When he asked youout.Which means that, (a), he presumably finds you snog-worthy, and (b), you’ve established a friendly rapport, making it entirely natural that you’d chat with him again and get his hopes up, not to mention introducing me to the future love of my life. I’m a bit obsessed with rugby thighs, have I mentioned? And he has two brothers, you realize, whose kidsaren’tin your class, because they don’t have any. Kids, I mean. They’re footloose, fancy-free, and ready to go. Gordon just scored a try, and the boy isfit.Are you even watching?”
“No. WatchingAlone Australiainstead. Survival program.Olive read a book about survival and has become a bit obsessed with the subject. Gripping viewing, as Finlay’s still holding out hope that somebody dies. He’ll watch the match replay tomorrow, no worries, but they’re all fully immersed in this thing.”
“Zane Mahuta asks you out for a drink,” Jess said. “The bloodyskipper,big and tough as anything, and you don’t even get a flutter? Don’t consider even watching him play? Much less actually doing something that would be considered enjoyable to most women aged less than, say, fifty-five? What’s wrong with the brothers, then?”
“Too young for me?” Skylar suggested.
Jess’s sigh came straight down the line. “You don’t have tomarrythem.”
“Well, as I have three children,” Skylar said, “and virtually no free time, I’m not sure what the point would be otherwise. If marriage wasn’t even a possibility, I mean.”
“Sex,” Jess enunciated. “S-E-X. Sexy sexy sex. I can’tbelieveyou don’t realize that. Hot, sweaty, athletic sex with a hot, sweaty, athletic man. Preferably without chest hair. A little effort, please? Pity you can’t ask beforehand. I met a bloke last month who took off his shirt and had me looking out for the game warden. It was a bloody thicket in there, and I don’t even want totalkabout what was in his trousers.”
“Something tells me,” Skylar said, “that Zane doesn’t wax. You’d better go for the brothers.”
“If you were here,” Jess said, “you could ask him. Casually. It was in his sister’s column, right? So you say, teasing, you know, in that way you do—did I tell you that David Sacklett was asking me whether you had a fella, after you were laughing at him a bit in the teachers’ lounge the other day, and crossing your legs? Wait. What was I saying? Oh, right, hairiness. You say, ‘So was your sister right, then? No manscaping?Describe the terrain to me.’ In a friendly sort of way. And then tell me.”
“No,” Skylar said. “Not happening. I’d be mortified. And David Sacklett doesn’t light my fire either, sorry.”
“Well, of course he doesn’t,” Jess said, “as he puts the ‘mild’ in ‘mild-mannered.’ He was an example, that’s all. Teasing, though. Light. You’re good at that. Quite funny, when you let yourself go.”
“Well, I can’t even if I wanted to,” Skylar said. “Granddad’s gone to bed already, for one thing.”
“It’s not even nine o’clock.”
“Yeh, but he hasn’t had as much sleep as usual. He had a date last week and got in a bit late, and they were out the other night as well. I don’t even know when he got in that time, because I was asleep.”
“Your granddad’s about eighty.”
“A mere seventy-seven. He’s met somebody he’s quite excited about, but he hasn’t told me who she is yet. Mysterious, eh. If you see him at the pub after the netball, eyeing up fit ladies in little skirts, alert me.”
“That’s pitiful,” Jess said.“Pitiful.Even your ancient granddad, with practically one foot in the grave, is getting more action than you. You need a life.”
“I have a life. I have heaps of life. I just don’t have a man.”
“I’m freezing,” Jess said, “but I’m still going to ask. Why ever not? Is it the sex you’re scared of? You could get therapy for that, you realize.”
