Cadence
I sold most of my shares. Seeing how easily Sam had isolated me from the world made me want to be a part of it, more than ever. So I bought a small warehouse-style place in Surry Hills. Michelle helped me set it all up. Downstairs was split into a gallery and a work area. Upstairs was my home. I shared the work area with other artists who rented the space from me on a casual month-to-month basis. And we had a gallery to showcase our work, along with pieces from various local artists. Once a month we had a Saturday night exhibition with drinks and finger food, and people got happily tipsy and spent more than they normally would on a new piece of art for their home. It was a decent business model.
I’ll admit, my work did take a darker turn. Call it my post-Luke period. Think lots of giant pieces done with wild charcoal strokes and splatters of black ink. But here and there a pop of bright blue or sunny yellow would creep in. A sign that a happier part of me, deep inside, was fighting to come back.
Oh, and I got a dog. A tiny and very fluffy Pomeranian named Cactus.
Georgia
Her parents reissued their offer of a ‘healing and rejuvenation trip’ to Bali, which thankfully turned out to mean lying on the beach, sipping cocktails and having massages. There was minimal kombucha or yoga. They also suggested that Marcus might like to come along with them, because they knew how good it would be for Georgia to have his company. He accepted. Troy, Aaron and Pete were all curious as to when their parents would be paying for the three of them to visit Bali as well. Once the truth had come out about the stolen drugs, Georgia had been promptly reinstated at work; but when Georgia mentioned the Bali trip, Denise had granted her leave in an instant.
When Georgia asked her mum what had prompted the original offer, Susan had confessed that she didn’t really like Luke very much after meeting him at Marcus’s wedding.
‘You’re kidding me?’ Georgia said. ‘But he was playing the part of the perfect boyfriend at that stage.’
Her mother shrugged. ‘What can I say? I could tell there was something not quite right about him. I could see it in his aura. A muddiness. It worried me. I thought maybe I could sneak you away and somehow talk you into breaking up with him. Obviously if I’d known you’d let him move in with you I would have pushed a lot more.’
Georgia was confident the muddy aura part was bullshit. Her mother couldn’t see auras; she’d probably made that part up after finding out about Luke’s true motivations in order to convince herself she knew more than everyone else did.
*
Georgia was still smoking occasionally at that stage, and one night while they were sitting on the balcony, overlooking the ocean, Marcus made a joke about the time he’d caught Grant giving her a cigarette when she was fifteen.
It triggered a memory for Georgia. ‘Oh yeah, at your wedding he said that wasn’t the reason you hit him that day.’
‘Of course, it wasn’t,’ Marcus said. ‘I thought you always knew why I hit him.’
‘No.’
‘He said you were hot and that he was going to ask you out . . . so obviously, I hit him.’
‘Marcus! What the hell? Why would you hit him for that?’
‘Because I was a moronic, immature sixteen-year-old, and I didn’t want my best mate to date my little sister. Sorry, but you didn’t actually want him to ask you out, did you?’
‘Jesus Christ, Marcus, I don’t know! Maybe.’
‘Shit. I’ll fix it.’
Grant phoned her within the hour and they chatted for a good twenty minutes before there was a pause in the conversation and he took a deep breath and asked her out.
Georgia hesitated before responding. ‘I want to say yes,’ she said. ‘A big part of me wants that. But at the same time . . . I know I’m not ready. I need some more time. Listen, though, if you’ve waited this long to ask, do you think you could do me a favour?’
‘Anything,’ he said.
‘Ask me again in a couple of months.’
‘Deal.’