The next morning Tessa met me in the lobby of the Glaxo Smith-Klein headquarters.
‘Are you nervous?’ she asked.
‘A little,’ I lied. It seemed like the correct answer, but the truth was I was feeling numb after the previous night’s disaster.
‘Don’t be,’ she said brightly.
I discovered after about five minutes that I didn’t need her to hold my hand. The work was familiar, almost disappointingly so. The tasks were routine, the procedures simple. Besides Tess, my crew included a new dad named Paul and an earnest girl named Rebecca. Eager to show off his parenting skills, Paul walked me through the operation of the computer, the coffee machine and the stationery cupboard.
‘Now you try,’ he said after grinding office-grade coffee beans that looked like freeze-dried hamster dung.
For lunch we all went to a nearby shopping mall and ate re-heated pasta from Styrofoam containers. We cluttered-up the laminex table-tops with plastic cutlery and cans of drink. It was the single least-exotic experience of my life.
In the afternoon Paul took the departmental car out to a meeting about fifty kilometres from our office, where it promptly broke down. I had to finish off his assignment, entering rows and rows of data into a spreadsheet. As I punched the numbers into the computer I realised I wasn’t ready to give up my new-found freedom. I wasn’t ready to return to the world of routine and responsibility. My phone buzzed announcing a text message from Chris: We’re going to Pete’s. Come!
I felt a flicker of irritation. I didn’t know who or what or where ‘Pete’s’ was. Google told me it was a bar in the trendy Central-Mid-Levels. I took a deep breath. This could be my opportunity to repair some of the damage done the night before.
Half an hour later I was pushing through dangling red beads into the Pete’s main chamber. A business man on stage wailed a request for me to ‘Listen to My Heart’. It was a karaoke bar.
‘Miss Mason.’ Chris jumped up and kissed me sloppily on the cheek. He smelled of beer and was wearing a Bintang tank from Bali. He was a completely different person to the guy I’d suffered through dinner with. There was a loose group scattered around a table near the stage. One of them waved and I realised it was Noah. He was clean-shaven and dressed in a pristine business shirt.
‘I hope you’re feeling better,’ Noah said, handing me a beer. ‘Don’t worry. Everyone gets sick in India. By the time you found us I’d lost eight kilos. In one month. That’s unheard of, particularly when you consider I gained a kilo of facial hair.’
‘Are you living in Hong Kong now?’
He told me he was doing some admin work for his father’s property valuing company. ‘Chris said you’re at Glaxo Smith-Kline.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, pleased I was a conversation topic. ‘It’s just a casual contract.’
My eyes flicked towards Chris. He was slapping a friend on the back and laughing.
‘That’s the best kind,’ said Noah, ‘I only work a couple of days a week to fund my year of adventure,’ he explained. ‘I studied science after missing out on medicine. Then when I finished, I tried for med school again. As soon as I was accepted I panicked. I needed to recharge. I beat myself up so bad about missing out in the first place that I hardly lived the entire time. I was burnt out. I didn’t want to mess up my medical degree because I was too tired. I’m so excited about getting stuck into the course, learning something really useful.’
‘I bet you do really well,’ I said, feeling a little nostalgic. ‘I used to work in a research lab. We developed treatments for MS and motor neurone disease. It was fascinating and rewarding.’
‘Do you ever think about going back to school?’
I considered. It hadn’t been part of my plan.
More people arrived. Chris welcomed them with characteristic warmth, sloshing pale ale everywhere. Noah took a deep slug of his beer and set the empty bottle down on the table.
‘Another round?’ I asked.
‘Sure, cheers.’
‘Chris? Another drink?’
He held up a thumb. At the bar I ordered three beers. When I returned, Chris was speaking with two women he’d lassoed into our group. They looked bored as he waved his hand around drunkenly, describing the majesty of the Himalayas. I still felt a sickening twist of jealousy seeing him with other women.
‘Here.’ I pushed the bottle under his nose.
‘Violet!’ He took the beer and held up his palm. ‘High five?’ I held up my own hand and let him smack it. I took the other beer to Noah. But I didn’t feel like drinking mine.
‘Hey, Violet,’ Chris shouted. ‘VIOLET!’ For the first time I could remember, I didn’t feel like talking to him.
‘She’s busy, Chris,’ Noah hollered over my shoulder then rolled his eyes good-naturedly. ‘Pisshead,’ he said.
‘Does he always drink a lot?’
‘Not when we’re travelling. I think he gets a bit bummed here, though.’
Chris banged his beer bottle down on the table between us.
‘There you are,’ he said. He had the sweaty, bewildered look of someone who had started to slide from merriment to drunkenness. He put his arm around my shoulder.
‘Violet and I have known each other forever,’ he told Noah. ‘She’s so pretty.’ He dropped a sweaty hand heavily onto my hair.
Noah looked Chris in the eye and said, ‘Chris, mate, d’you want a water?’ He was ignored. ‘Mate, how much beer have you had?’
Chris waved his hand dismissively. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Mate,’ said Noah, ‘it’s only quarter past six and you’re pissed as an Irish parrot. Maybe you should have some water.’
Chris took the glass Noah was offering and drained it. I decided to get out of there.
‘Noah, I’m tired. You have my beer. It was good to see you.’
‘Okay, honey. See you soon.’
I gathered up my bag and picked my way through the crowd. Chris jumped up and followed me. ‘Violet, we haven’t even had a chance to chat yet.’
I wanted to tell him he’d ignored me since the moment I arrived but I knew it would sound petulant. He’d probably invited a lot of people.
‘We’ll catch-up another time,’ I said, keen to be gone.
‘Wait.’ He followed me out. ‘Let me walk you home.’ The fresh air seemed to revive his senses. I bit my lip.
‘Come on, otherwise I’ll go back in there and keep drinking. And nobody wants that.’
I looked up at him. He was still perfect. He still had the smile of that boy I’d held hands with in the hockey goal.
‘Okay.’
‘Okay,’ he said, guiding me down the street.
As we walked he kicked along a stone. The silence returned but it wasn’t as oppressive as it had been the night before.
When we reached my building Chris sat on the concrete steps leading up to the entrance.
‘That’s my office.’ He pointed to one of the tallest buildings, with a red sign that glowed like the electric element on a stove. ‘Nobody there really knows me. The senior guys all knew my dad. Sometimes I think they knew him better than I did.’
I looked towards my window. He lingered. I wanted to take him inside and feed him soup, tuck him between clean cotton sheets until his vitality returned.
‘Do you want to come up for … tea, or something?’ I asked, mentally searching my allocated cupboard in the kitchen. I was almost certain there was some chai that I’d bought in a vain attempt to re-capture my time in India.
‘Yeah, sounds good.’
Once inside he seemed to relax. I chatted about India as I tore the ends off two sachets of chai and boiled the kettle.
I heard a heavy slam. The air rippled and walls shuddered. A man I had never seen before came out of Jordan’s room. He had slick, black hair, and was dressed in white boxer shorts and a cotton robe that hung open to reveal a muscular body.
‘People are trying to sleep,’ he barked. Then he added even louder, ‘Keep it down!’ He stared at us, fuming, before he returned to his room, slamming the door again.
‘I guess that was my housemate, Jordan,’ I said.
Chris and I looked at each other and collapsed into giggles. I slid open the balcony door. A wave of warm, moist air entered the flat. ‘Let’s go out here where we won’t get in trouble.’
We picked up our cups and stepped out onto the balcony, admiring the landscape of neon and glass.
‘It’s a pretty cool city,’ I said. ‘Do you think you’ll stay?’
‘For now. I don’t really feel like there’s much for me in Melbourne. It’s too small. Too full of memories.’
‘I know exactly what you mean.’
‘I feel guilty not being there with Mum. But I was going crazy.’
After a while he put his teacup down and announced he should go. I walked him to the front door.
‘It’s so nice to just be with someone. Someone you can be yourself with,’ he said.
I rested my head against the door frame and waited for him to leave. But he stood there, his eyes trained on the floor. ‘You’re a good chick, Vy,’ he said.
‘You too, Chris. Um, I mean. You know.’ My nerves were back. I slid my hands into my pockets. ‘You’re a good guy.’
‘Well,’ he said after a moment. ‘Bye.’ He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
‘Bye,’ I whispered as he walked away. I felt more confused than ever.