Page 23 of The Winter We Met
‘No other dreams? I could never leave the toy business but fantasise about opening my own shop somewhere like Paris. I’d live in a quirky flat and spend my days reading and seeing the sights.’ I thought back to a conversation we’d had on the aeroplane. ‘You love flying, haven’t you ever dreamt of being a pilot or…’ I glanced at his legs. ‘Becoming a professional basketball player.’
His laugh bellowed out. ‘Hell, no, Jess. I haven’t got the discipline for any sport. No, I’m totally satisfied.’
In such a go-getting, material world his attitude was refreshing.
‘Although there is one tiny thing…’ His expression turned serious. ‘I wish I had more time for my shoe box work and could make a real difference on a national scale, evening out the balance between the kids that had nothing and those, like me, who had so much. Of course that’s unrealistic but I’m really hoping, one day, we can help the wider community of Sydney and not just our locality.’ He took his arm away. ‘Anyway, enough of enjoying ourselves, we’ve a party to plan. I’ve brought my notebook. So is there more than one local newspaper? Which do you think would be the best to contact?’
‘TheAmblemarsh Gazette. It covers Springhaye and everyone in the area gets a free copy through the door. If we want to run an ad for a sale at Under the Tree that’s the publication we always use.
‘Perhaps I should take a photograph of the residents? The paper will be more likely to run a story if it involves less work and expense for them.’
‘Good point. I’d never have thought of that.’
‘Tomorrow night we need your gran to take stock of the craft supplies they have gathered during the year and then we can brainstorm exactly which decorations to make.’
‘Perhaps we should run a viewing ofIt’s a Wonderful Life– for Fred’s sake and to refresh everyone’s else’s memories,’ I suggested.
‘That’s a great idea – it will really get people in the mood. A cinema screening… we must have popcorn.’
I was the same as him – any event I was planning, the food element was always important. I took a deep breath and put my hand on his. He stopped writing. I stared into his eyes.
‘I’m so grateful, Nik, for all your help and for putting some spring back into Gran’s step. I… I’m lucky to have met you on that plane.’
‘Me too.’ He wrapped his arms around me. I smelt fresh aftershave with hints of… orange and clove. It reminded me of Christmas. He leant back, tantalisingly still holding on to the outside edge of my hand. I felt such a magnetic pull to this man.
‘I love travelling but the bit that interests me most is getting to know people. I can see the palace or London Eye on a postcard – but seeing inside someone’s life… It’s been an honour to meet you and your gran, Jess,’ he said softly.
As he spoke a car backfired in the distance which must have explained why my heart was pounding.
10
Misty’s had a glass front with the name written as a dusky pink neon sign. Next to it was a poster advertising the upcoming themed Christmas events. Condensation ran down the inside. It always got steamy, what with there being a small dance floor.
‘Monday is Eighties night.’
‘That was a big decade for UK-Australian relations,’ said Nik. ‘Neighboursaired for the first time over here and thenCrocodile Dundeewas a massive hit.’
‘Yet what a let-down you are,’ I said in a jokey tone and pushed open the door. ‘You don’t use Australian slang nearly enough. I haven’t heard you sayfair dinkumonce.’
Despite the relatively early time of seven o’clock, the bar was crowded. A two-for-one cocktail hour was responsible. I took Nik’s elbow and led him through the throng, towards the bar, looking forward to a drink and relaxing after an afternoon travelling to see the outside of Buckingham Palace and watching a thrilled Nik take tens of photos. The room was dimly lit with neon spotlights dotted across the ceiling. Oliver had a metallic shaker between his hands and was laughing with Greg, a colleague. Oliver caught my eye and that sense of home infused me. I could just be myself, good or bad, and we always got over our little fallouts – although this one about Nik was the biggest we’d ever had.
‘Hello there, Nik,’ he said loudly and reached across the bar. The two men shook hands. ‘I’m Jess’s flatmate, Oliver. What’ll it be?’
‘G’day mate. Great to meet ya. So what do you recommend?’
A few heads turned at the accent which seemed stronger than usual.
‘Leave it with me,’ said Oliver and he pointed to a table, against the left-hand wall, with a reserved sign on it. It was one in a row of pink tables, with slate-grey upholstered poufs on the nearside, opposite a long couch, on the other, with plush pink cushions.
It wasn’t a big room but the window front and glass along the back of the bar gave it a sense of space. On the other side of the bar was a small dance floor. Music blared out after six, with a jukebox providing atmosphere before that. People travelled from other towns for its top-quality cocktails and stylish bar snacks, including spring onion and butter sandwiches served with vintage cheddar crisps, or the bowls of gourmet popcorn such as the Camembert one drizzled with redcurrant sauce.
‘Thanks for a great day,’ said Nik as we sat down together, on the couch. ‘I really enjoyed visiting Her Majesty this arvo.’
I slipped off my coat. He did the same. Today he wore a red checked shirt.
‘Cool place,’ said Nik. ‘Is Misty the owner? She must be one talented Sheila to decorate the place like this. It’s glam but simple. I love it.’ He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and I couldn’t help noticing his smooth tanned chest. Oliver appeared with a tray bearing three cold cocktails. He set them down and slid the tray under the table, sitting on the pouf opposite.
‘You little ripper,’ said Nik. ‘They look ace.’
