False Advertising (55 page)

‘Oh, um, maybe this is a bad time,' she said, stirring. ‘Maybe I should come back?'

‘No,' he said, his voice low and steady. ‘I want you to say whatever it is you came to say, because I don't want you to have a chance to change your mind.'

He knew. But he had to hear it from her. She took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. There was so much to say, she didn't know where to start. She'd gone over it all in the bus, but it wasn't exactly polished, nothing like it. It was all over the place, every random thought that had passed through her head in the last twenty-four hours since she'd seen him at the carpark at Brookhaven, since he'd kissed her.

‘Helen?' He was gazing down at her with those wonderful eyes, from the face she loved with all her heart. When had she turned into such a hopeless romantic?

There was only one thing to do.

Helen reached up, wrapped her arms around him and planted her lips on his. Myles took only a second or two to respond, then she felt his arms drawing her close to him. And they kept kissing. And kissing. There was an awful lot that had to be said in that kiss. And they both kept right on saying it, and saying it. And after a long, intense conversation, Myles began gradually to pull back, little by little, as their lips played against each other, reluctant to part.

‘So,' he breathed, still holding her close, ‘that's what you wanted to tell me?'

‘Pretty much,' she murmured. ‘There's more, but we might have to go somewhere more private for that.'

He smiled, gazing down at her. ‘So what brought this on?'

She sighed happily. ‘So much, too much for me to go into right now. But I guess the final thing was the bus driver turning up at my house today.'

Myles looked confused.

‘The one who drove the bus, you know,
the
bus,' said Helen. ‘And he was so depressed and shattered, his whole life was in
ruins, and I looked in his eyes and I didn't want that for me, and I knew that David would never have wanted it either. And I finally knew it was an accident, that it was no one's fault. And he's gone, and it's okay for me to be happy again.'

Myles held her face in his hands. ‘Well that's good, because that's my plan, to make you happy.'

‘You've made a good start,' she smiled, as his lips came down on hers again.

‘Myles –'

They sprang apart. One of the Japanese speakers was standing in the doorway to Myles's office, looking embarrassed and a little flummoxed.

‘Oh, um, sorry, as you were, sorry,' he mumbled, closing the door again.

Myles turned to look down at her. Helen was biting her lip. ‘Uh-oh, is this going to get you into trouble?'

‘No,' he assured her. ‘But they might not take my glowing recommendation of you on face value now.'

Her face dropped.

‘I'm kidding, don't worry about it,' he smiled, drawing her back into his arms. ‘I'd better go back in. Was there anything else you wanted to say?'

‘Oh, just, you know . . . I love you. I forgot to say that before.'

‘I kind of picked up on that. But it's nice to hear it.' He gave her one last, lingering kiss. ‘I'll call you when I'm done here.'

‘Okay,' she said.

They drew apart, walking away from each other backwards, their eyes still locked.

‘Oh, Myles?' said Helen as he reached the door. ‘There was one other thing.'

He stopped, waiting.

‘I guess I'm saying, don't go to Melbourne.'

He smiled, taking a few steps back towards her. ‘You know what,' he said, ‘I think I might have a better idea.'

*

‘Myles asked you to go to Melbourne with him?'

‘That's right. Me and Noah.'

Gemma was sitting across the kitchen table staring gobsmacked at Helen. It was to be the inaugural post-Lola Friday night drinks that night, and they were expecting Phoebe soon. But Helen had jumped the gun and opened a bottle already; she had a feeling this would go down better with a drink.

‘So what are you going to do?' Gemma wanted to know.

‘I'm going to Melbourne with him,' Helen said simply.

‘Just like that?'

‘No,' she said patiently. ‘Not “just like that”. We've been talking about it for over a week.'

‘Oh, wow, a whole week,' said Gemma sardonically.

‘Gemma . . .'

‘How come when I took off with some bloke, leaving a good job, and I don't know . . .
everything
behind me, people thought I was crazy and irresponsible?'

‘I think this is a little different,' said Helen.

Gemma's shoulders sagged in defeat. ‘Okay, so Myles is not a total loser like Luke was, and you two actually love each other, for real and everything, but why do you have to move away? You can love each other just as well here in Sydney, can't you?'

Helen sat forward in her chair, leaning her arms on the table. ‘I think we need to get away from here to see what we have together. There are too many memories, too many ghosts. He doesn't expect me to forget David, no way – he's Noah's father – but I think it'll be good for us to start out fresh.' She paused. ‘Anyway, it's not like it has to be forever. If I don't like it, we'll come back in a year or so, Myles said, whenever I want.'

‘But you won't,' Gemma sighed.

‘To be honest, Gem, I've got no idea what's going to happen, and that's a little scary, but it's also pretty wonderful. I've never lived anywhere else my whole life but in this very house,' Helen said, looking around. ‘I think if I really want to move on, I have to move out. It's time to finally spread my wings.'

Gemma was watching the look on her face, the light in her eyes. ‘You have to do it,' she said resignedly. ‘Of course you have to do it.'

‘I know.'

‘But what will you do in Melbourne? I mean, Myles has a life there, what about you and Noah?'

‘Well, he hasn't taken holidays since . . . forever, so he's going to have some time off at first while we settle in. He wants to show me around, introduce us to his brothers; in fact, we're going to have a week or so in Tasmania with Hugo's family on their property. He's got three boys, not to mention pigs and chooks and horses and what have you. Noah's going to flip.'

‘All right, idyllic so far, then what?' asked Gemma. ‘When Myles goes back to work, what are you going to do with yourself?'

‘Get a job, of course,' Helen said. ‘I've already been looking on the net, in fact. Myles suggested I think about charitable organisations, environmental groups, that kind of thing. Somewhere I won't be so ethically challenged,' she grinned. ‘Turns out there's some interesting possibilities. I was hoping you'd give me a hand updating my résumé, actually, Gem.'

‘Of course, I'd be happy to,' said Gemma. ‘You certainly seem to have this all figured out, Helen. Why didn't you talk to me sooner?'

‘Because I had to figure it out for myself first. And I wanted to check with Tony before I told you, make sure he was happy to take over responsibility for Mum, and the house. He's totally supportive of you staying here: nothing's going to change for you. He even suggested that Phoebe can move in if she'd like now that there'll be a spare room.'

‘Oh no, Phoebe's flying the coop, trekking to base camp, would you believe? Mad woman doesn't know what a holiday is.' Gemma paused. ‘Hey, I've just realised, you're all abandoning me. What am I going to do on Friday nights?'

Helen smiled. ‘There's always Charlie.'

‘Given time,' Gemma said, nodding. ‘I am going to be such a model of patience he'll be begging me to take him in the end.' She stared at the bubbles rising in her glass. ‘You know, ever since I began to look at him differently, I can't
stop
looking at him. I
finally understand what loving someone's really all about. I'd do anything for him and Lola.'

‘I know exactly what you mean.'

Gemma looked at Helen. ‘What a lame, lovelorn pair we are,' she grinned.

Helen smiled back. ‘So, do I have your blessing?'

‘Like you need it,' Gemma scoffed.

‘No, listen to me,' said Helen as she felt tears creeping into her eyes. ‘Damn, I told myself I wouldn't do this,' she sniffed.

Gemma frowned at her. ‘What's the matter?'

Helen attempted to compose herself. ‘You know what's the hardest thing to leave? Not this house, or this place, not my mum – she won't know the difference – not even Tony. He'll be coming down to Melbourne in a few months anyway for the season there . . .'

‘So what is it?' asked Gemma.

‘The hardest thing is that I have to leave you,' Helen said, her voice breaking.

Gemma stared at her. ‘Me?' she said. Oh no, now she could feel a lump rising in her throat.

‘Do you remember the first day we met, sitting here at this table?' Helen asked her.

Gemma just nodded. She wasn't game to try to use her voice.

‘I remember thinking, what am I letting myself in for? I didn't realise I was getting the best friend I've ever had. What am I going to do without you?'

Oh, why did she have to say that? Gemma's face contorted as she tried to suppress the stubborn lump, but it was no use. She gave up, and pretty soon they were both intermittently sobbing, and laughing, and sobbing again, and hanging onto each other, and sobbing some more.

‘They have phones in Melbourne, right?' said Gemma in a strangled voice. ‘And the Hume Highway, and aeroplanes flying in and out several times a day?'

‘I guess,' said Helen with a sniff.

‘And you'll come back for Lola's naming ceremony?'

‘Of course,' she assured her. ‘We'll be back pretty regularly for Noah to see his grandparents.'

‘Okay,' said Gemma, like something was settled. ‘Now I need a drink.'

‘Me too.'

They picked up their glasses.

‘To Melbourne,' said Gemma.

‘And to you and Charlie.'

They clinked and drank.

‘And to you and Myles and Noah.'

‘And to Lola of course,' Helen added.

They clinked and drank again.

‘And to David,' said Gemma, ‘may he rest in peace.'

‘Amen,' said Helen. ‘And to friendship.'

They clinked and drank, and then they had to refill their glasses. They sat down at the table, sighing in unison.

‘So . . .' said Gemma.

Helen nodded. ‘So . . .'

‘When are you migrating south?'

‘It'll be a few weeks yet,' said Helen. ‘There are a couple of things I have to take care of first.'

Helen took Noah's hand as they walked along the track that led to the headland. It was a warm day; the sky was a clear expanse of blue, and there was barely any breeze to speak of, which was a relief. Noah had insisted on carrying the balloons, but Helen was worried he wouldn't be able to keep hold of them, so she'd tied them to his wrist. He'd picked the colours. Blue for David, because Daddy had blue eyes, and he had lots of blue shirts, Noah remembered. And yellow for himself, and pink for his mother. Helen was carrying the box containing David's ashes. It was a very ordinary receptacle, considering what it held – little more than a shoe box really, made from a kind of plastic-coated cardboard. She remembered being surprised when she'd picked
it up from the crematorium, but David would have approved of its simplicity and lack of pretension.

Helen and Noah came to the end of the main track and continued along a path that took them to the spot David had talked about. Helen had phoned the National Parks to make sure she wasn't doing anything illegal, or against health regulations or something, but she had been assured she was within her rights by a very kind man who had also tactfully suggested she test which way the wind was blowing when she got to the spot, to avoid a potentially distressing outcome.

Helen grabbed a clump of reeds and tore off a few stalks. She held her hand out in front of her and opened it flat. There was barely enough wind to lift the stalks off her hand, but when she brushed them away, they fluttered on the light breeze. She breathed in the salt air, looking out at the ocean. It was calm today, the waves lolling up over the rocks with a gentle splash. David would have liked a day like today.

‘Is this Daddy's special place, Mummy?'

‘This is it,' she said. ‘What do you think?'

Noah looked around and nodded approvingly. ‘It's a good place. Are we gunna let Daddy go now?'

‘Yes, we are.'

Helen knelt down and placed the box on the ground beside her. ‘Hold out your arm, sweetheart.' Noah did as she said and Helen proceeded to untie the balloons. Then she pressed the strings into the palm of his hand and closed his fingers firmly around them. ‘You have to hold on tight now, okay, Noah? Until it's time, like we said, remember?'

Noah nodded seriously, his face set in concentration.

Helen picked up the box again and stood up. She took hold of Noah's free hand and they stepped down a couple of rock ledges, close to the edge of the water. ‘Okay, Noah, this is it.' Helen took a deep breath and lifted the lid off the box. ‘Are you ready?'

He nodded, watching her. Helen held the box out in front of her and hesitated for a moment, before she turned it over. The ashes started to drift out slowly. Helen shook the box gently and more began to fall away. A puff of breeze came from behind her,
blowing her hair forward around her face, catching the cloud of ashes and carrying it out further.

‘Now, Noah!' Helen cried.

‘Now?'

‘That's right. Let go of the balloons, sweetheart.'

He held his arm out straight and opened his hand. Instantly the balloons were caught on a zephyr, dancing for a moment before scattering up into the air. Noah squealed with delight, clapping his hands. Helen smiled as she turned the box the whole way over and David's remains drifted peacefully into the ocean below.

She sat down on a flat rock, scooping Noah up onto her lap as they watched the balloons fly away, higher and higher, the ashes gradually dissolving into the water.

‘Daddy's all gone now, Mummy,' said Noah, matter-of-factly. If nothing else, he seemed to have inherited his father's pragmatism.

‘He'll never be completely gone, Noah.'

‘But you gave his clothes to Unka Steve, and now his ashes are sinked in the water.'

‘But Daddy will always be in our hearts, won't he?'

Noah turned to look at her, a little unsure.

‘What do you remember about Daddy, Noah?'

He thought about it. ‘He had big hands,' he said finally.

Helen wrapped her arms tightly around him, resting her cheek against his. ‘Bye, David,' she said softly.

‘Bye, Daddy,' said Noah, waving one hand as the balloons rose high up into the sky towards the sun, until they couldn't see them any more in the white light.