Page 29 of Wish You Were Here
‘Like nothing at all happened?’
‘You weren’t in the right headspace, and I thought you needed a mate.’
‘Oh, right. Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
I have a quick look around and I am in a modern, spotlessly clean bedroom, and there is a large window which looks out towards the sea because beyond a few trees, and another building, I can just about make out the blue of the ocean. Brad is obviously doing all right because a flat like this in Bondimust cost an absolute fortune. I take a sip of my coffee, and it’s delicious, slightly bitter, creamy with a hint of sweetness – like everything with Brad, it’s perfect. The enormous bed has the softest sheets that feel incredible against my skin, and on the wall in front of me is a large flatscreen television. There is a tall, leafy plant in the corner, and the room is decorated in soft neutral tones with minimal furniture and decor.
‘So, we definitely didn’t mess about?’ I ask.
Brad sits down on the end of the bed.
‘No, we didn’t mess about, Sas. You wanted to talk, and I listened.’
‘That was it? For real?’
‘For real,’ says Brad. He has a day or two of stubble on his tanned face, which only makes him look even hotter. ‘Look, I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not a bad guy. The thing with Caroline, whatever she imagined it was, it wasn’t. I didn’t like her like that, and she took it badly, obviously, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear.’
‘And I’m supposed to just believe you, am I?’
‘Let me take you out on a proper date.’
‘You want to take me out on a date?’
‘Yeah, why not?’
I try not to look at his chest and abs, but it’s hard not to notice them. He must tan because he is such an even caramel colour and completely hairless, too. Do I want to go on a date with Bondi Brad? Jess wouldn’t be happy about it, but then again she is moving away and I have to think about my own life. What about Ben? I really like Ben, but he’s in London and I’m in Sydney, and as amazing as it would be, it isn’t going anywhere. Brad is gorgeous, has a proper career, a stunning flat and what do I really know about him? Is he the devil Jess and Caroline warned me about, or is he the man I rang last night, who tookcare of me and made me a pretty decent oat milk latte this morning?
‘Okay, fine, you can take me out on a date.’
‘Sweet,’ says Brad, and for a moment I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me, but instead he gets up and offers me brekky – a healthy bowl of homemade granola, thick plain yoghurt and mixed berries.
The rest of Brad’s apartment is just as gorgeous as his bedroom. The large, bright living space has a lounge area with a smart grey sofa, another wall-mounted flat screen TV with two tall plants giving the space some greenery, and a cool painting of Bondi Beach is on another wall. The kitchen is modern, spotless, full of top-of-the-line Smeg appliances and has a great island bench, where we sit and have brekky together. He opens a window, and I can smell the sea air, and feel the light breeze as it wafts through the room. It feels easy being with Brad. We talk, laugh, and he definitely isn’t the monster Caroline made him out to be. He is easy-going, fun, and it’s clear he doesn’t take life too seriously. Eventually, he has to go to work, and I need to get back to Glebe.
‘See you then,’ I say outside his building.
‘I’ll message you about that date. I ordered an Uber to take you home.’
‘You did?’
‘Like I said, I’m not a bad guy,’ says Brad, and I feel something inside of me, a wobbly attraction that makes me feel silly and like if he leaned down and kissed me, I would definitely kiss him back. I am in trouble.
I am in my bedroom about to FaceTime with Ben, while Mum and Brian are in the lounge watching a Japanese doco about cats, and I’m debating whether to tell Ben about Brad. Why does it feel weird when we are just mates? We have discussed datingwith each other before, and I know he is dating – he literally messaged me in the middle of one while hiding in a loo – so why does it feel weird discussing Brad? The answer is, I don’t know, but I don’t have time to think about it because my phone is ringing, and Ben is suddenly there.
‘G’day!’ says Ben, and I laugh.
‘I thought I told you we don’t always say that in Australia?’
‘Don’t you mean Straya? I’ve been doing my research!’
‘Fine! G’day from sunny Straya, Beno.’
‘Thank you. That felt like a very authentic experience.’
Ben tells me it’s a dull, damp day in London, and when he shows me out of his bedroom window, it does look quite depressing. I take him outside into our garden and show him the sunshine, and he pretends to cry, before we head back into my bedroom. I sit down on my bed, holding my phone in front of me. I feel so comfortable with Ben. Sometimes I forget he’s English, and then I hear his accent or he pronounces a word in a funny way and it’s adorable, like I’m watching a British television series. There is something to be said about living in Australia with its warmer climate and outdoor living, and I’m not sure I could handle actually living in England long term, but I wouldn’t mind a little winter escape with Ben. Scarves, coats and cuddling up with hot cups of tea, pieces of delicious cake, while Ben reads me passages from Jane Austen novels – clearly I have a problem.
‘I have to ask about your date. How long were you in the loo for?’ I ask, and Ben laughs.
