I scoop up my hair and tie it into a knot, lean closer to the screen, narrowing down on the search for chip shops. ‘Maybe this is what I need?’
‘A distraction?’ She wipes her lipstick from the edge of her glass with her thumb.
‘No,’ I say sitting up. ‘Think about it, what if I could find him? Find this Alice?’ I waft the paper again. ‘A love story that might have been lost with one lost letter?’ I sit up, eager. ‘It would be a mix of everything that I’m interested in, the old and the new…’ I look down to the novels, piled up beside me. ‘Romance. A fresh take. A new audience. So what do you think?’ I ask, flapping the letter again. ‘My ticket to the next Feature Writer of the Year award?’
‘I think you should choose what makes you happy and if this is it, then do it.’
She takes another sip and adjusts her gold necklace so that the flower is sitting neatly in her clavicle. ‘How’s Spence?’
‘Good. He’s, well… Spence. I think one of the swim mums is circling him like a shark.’
‘He’s already seeing someone, though, right?’
I frown. ‘Not that I know of.’
Have I missed something? No. Spence would have said. He’s not the type to have a clandestine affair and keep it a secret.
‘What makes you think that?’
She shrugs. ‘Just a feeling. Anyway, let’s get back to this letter.’ She picks it up and reads it again.
‘It’s weird, right? I mean, she does sound a bit like you… Maybe you sleepwalked to 1985?’
‘Ha, ha. Very funny. I haven’t done that in years.’
OK, so that’s not technically true. After Ryan left, and my insomnia hit again, there were a few times I found myself, not lost exactly, but I did find myself waking up on the number 54 bus with no recollection of getting on. And then the followingweek it happened again. Different bus, but same scenario. That was when I called Spence. When I knew I couldn’t carry on the way I had been.
Josie laughs. ‘Do you remember that night you locked yourself out of the hotel room?’
‘Don’t remind me.’
I’d been up against a tough deadline, and not sleeping. Ryan had gone to a work dinner, and I’d stayed back at the hotel to finish. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I’d found myself in a cafe down the road, barefooted and in my pyjamas without my bag. I’d had to ask the waitress for a phone and called Josie.
I’d started taking sleep medication after that.
‘It’s just a coincidence,’ I continue. ‘I’m sure there are a million women called Alice who have had to restart their life.’
‘I guess.’
Later, a bottle down and a quick hug at the door, the house is empty again. The room colder. My eyes are drawn to the letter on the sofa and the laptop on the floor. OK, Michael whoever-you-are… let’s see who and where you are now.
4
MICHAEL
The chips are gone. I don’t know how long I’ve been drawing her. Could be ten minutes, could be half an hour.
‘When did you know?’ she asks, her voice soft.
‘Know what?’ I ask, glancing from her jawline to the paper.
‘That you love it so much. Art.’
I drag the side of my thumb along the paper, the blue of her eyeliner smudging beneath the shell of her ear.
‘Love is a strong word.’
‘If you could see your face right now, you’d know that love is the perfect word.’
