The next week Luke was especially sweet. He was either ashamed of his behaviour at the launch and wanted to make it up to me, or he had a new spring in his step that a certain redhead had given him. He took us out for teppanyaki in Collins Street mid-week. As we were catching wagyu beef in our bowls, he announced that he had booked us flights to Hobart in the school holidays to go to MONA, the new art museum that had put Hobart on the map and reportedly redefined the gallery experience. He knew I’d been wanting to go there for ages.
‘Tasmania? You mean like on a plane?’ Max asked. He hadn’t been on a plane since he was four and we’d visited his aunt in Sydney.
‘On a plane,’ Luke said. ‘And we’ll find a nice place to stay in the city. We’ll have some proper family time.’
‘What are you going to do about the Patch?’ I asked.
‘Mike can look after it for a few days. It will still be there when I get back.’ We hadn’t had a holiday in over two years, so it was so nice to think about the three of us getting away together. And I was so keen to spend a whole day at MONA.
I hadn’t followed up yet about Parricide, because I was still feeling so annoyed with Suzi. Dave had said that he’d pulled it back from the designer, and I guessed that he’d sent pages on to Suzi to mark up the changes she’d wanted again. By Friday morning I had a nagging feeling that I should find out what was going on with it. We were now a whole two weeks behind schedule. I called Suzi on her mobile and tried to resurrect my more professional editorial tone, ‘Hi, Suzi, it’s Luisa. I was wondering how you’re getting along with the book.’
‘So sorry. I’ve marked up most of the changes. I’ve just got another couple of things that I’m double-checking. I’ll get the pages to you by the end of the day. I’ve got to get it finished anyway, as we’re off to MONA for the weekend.’
‘You’re off to MONA?’ My heart sizzled.
‘Yeah, with Brodie.’ I couldn’t believe it. Luke’s spontaneous trip to MONA had been inspired by Suzi, not me. She’d trumped me again.
‘Well, I’ll need to speak to Dave about how we’re going to make up the time now. It’s a full two weeks behind. Since I’m only going to get it tonight, it’s going to be tricky for me to fit it in with all my other projects next week. I’m at capacity. I’m not sure if we’re going to get it into shops before Christmas.’
‘I really need those Christmas sales.’
‘What can I say, Suzi? We’ve lost so much time now with all these added bits and pieces. You shouldn’t still be developing your manuscript — we’re way past that point. Dave is going to have to figure something out. I can only do what I can do.’
‘I’ll call Dave.’
‘Good. You do that.’ I slammed down the phone. I knew I’d crossed a professional line in my tone with her. I began to fear the call I would get from Dave the moment he got off the phone with Suzi. Sure enough, it came six minutes later.
‘I just got off the phone with Suzi. What did you say to her? She was really worked up.’
‘She’s not going to send me the changes until tonight. She’s taken over a week with it. We’re two weeks behind now. Next week I’ve got a full schedule of projects I’ve committed to. I’m not a magician: I can’t make up the time on this one.’
‘Well, maybe we need to find another editor if you can’t be more flexible.’
‘If that’s what you want to do.’ I was steaming.
‘It’s not what I want to do. It would be far better if you could see it through. Can’t you shuffle some things around next week? I don’t want to have to pull someone else in on it at this stage — you know the book better than anyone.’
I took a deep breath. Laying my head in one hand, I said, ‘All right, I’ll do it. But on one condition. This is it. No more author corrections. She doesn’t get to see any more pages after this set. It’s her last chance. You have to tell her that.’
‘Okay, I’ll call her now. Thank you. I appreciate it.’
‘No worries. Bye.’ I’d never been that assertive with a publisher before. It was authors who were supposed to be the drama queens. The editor was meant to be understanding and accommodating, always conciliatory. If you wanted to get more work from the publisher, then nothing was too much trouble. I wondered whether Dave would ever hire me again. I wasn’t even sure that I cared. As long as I never had to work with Miss Suzi again.
I opened up my private Jarvis email account. There were three messages there from him, full of yearning and mentions of our thighs, and how he would look at me with his eyes wide open when we made love for the first time. It was all as soppy as wet toilet paper, and equally as unappealing for some reason. I realised that I didn’t even think thighs were a sexy body part. I deleted the three messages quickly, feeling annoyed by them.
***
After dinner, I sidled up to Luke in the study. He was working on some figures for the Patch in a spreadsheet on his laptop. He was sipping his 7.40pm coffee and nibbling four squares of chocolate. His coffee and chocolate were as predictable and comforting to him as a bottle was to a baby before bed.
‘Suzi’s going to MONA this weekend,’ I said.
‘So?’
‘So, she took over a week with her corrections to the book, and now I’ve got two weeks to make up on it. Dave’s put me under loads of pressure. And Suzi’s off to MONA, did you know that?’
‘Yeah, she may have mentioned it.’
‘Funny that you booked a trip to Hobart after she mentioned it.’
‘I was going to do it anyway.’
‘Were you really?’
‘You are so difficult. Do you know that?’
I was about to walk out, as I usually did once I’d made my point. But something made me want to stay and reconcile. I turned back towards him. ‘I’m sorry. I do appreciate it . . .’
His face softened. ‘I just wanted to do something to make you happy.’ He patted his knee for me to sit on his lap, and I sat down tentatively. He held me around the waist, gently and protectively, and lay his chin on my shoulder. ‘We’ll have fun, the three of us, yeah? Max will love it. I’ve been looking up some nice houses to stay in. I’ll book it all and surprise you both.’
He stroked my lower back under my t-shirt. I closed my eyes, enjoying this simple affection from him. It wasn’t much, it was just his fingertips over my back, but I’d been craving his caring touch. I remembered how we’d been in the early days before Max; we’d had an L-seater couch and we always sat touching somehow, someone’s head or feet in the other person’s lap. We’d upgraded the couch to a rare Avalon three-seater, but we’d downgraded the intimacy. We now sat at either end of the couch, as if there was a phantom between us.
***
We almost never went to bed at the same time any longer. I was always in bed first, reading, and would often be asleep by the time he came in. That night, my book was already bookmarked with the Kentridge postcard and placed on the pile on my bedside table. I was lying on my side, in my usual position facing the ensuite door, and I was almost asleep. I heard Luke changing into his flannel pyjamas, $16.99 from Kmart two years earlier.
He got under the covers and moved over close behind me and whispered, ‘Are you awake?’ I turned to face him and was met with a passionate stranger. He was adventurous, travelling to areas he’d never been to before, an explorer trailblazing his way across my body. He was inquisitive, yet confident, but something about that night made me feel as though I was a lab rat and he was experimenting on me. But even that didn’t turn me off. I was ready to take what I could get, however I could get it.
He actually took off all of his clothes, even his socks. Luke had always been about efficiency and practicality, and since items of clothing on the top half of his body didn’t, in his point of view, restrict his love-making abilities, he’d been known to leave t-shirts on, hoodies, even a cable-knit jumper once when we’d been away in the Dandenong Mountains. He hadn’t cared much for skin-to-skin contact. If the temperature was anything under twenty-five degrees he always got dressed immediately afterwards, as if lying there naked together was a waste of time, or he feared that he’d catch a chill. If the job was done, then it was all about preparing for the next best thing: sleep.
Now, though, he engaged wholeheartedly in this love-making act of ours. He enjoyed his skin against my skin. I realised that perhaps this was what had been missing from our relationship the whole time: another woman. Maybe the other woman was the missing ingredient in many lacklustre relationships. Perhaps we all need a Suzi on the sidelines to keep things interesting and the socks off in bed.