Air Kisses (6 page)

It was a scene I’d thought about so many times, and I had dreamt about what I’d say to them, and how sharp and cutting and perfect my remarks would be, and yet now it was right in front of me I couldn’t believe it was really happening. Were they holding hands? I peered as hard as I could and evaluated that no, they were not. I watched as he opened the cab door for her and she stepped in. Oh
please
, that would have to be the first time he’d ever done that in his whole life. As I watched him follow her into the cab, I realised I’d seen more than enough. I swivelled around and walked towards the wharf. I sat on the edge of the wall, overlooking the water, and cried. A little envelope lit up my mobile.

It was
him
.

I became very angry. Was he sending that as he cuddled fucking Lisa fucking Sutherland?! I HATED HIM. I HATED THEM BOTH AND WISHED THEM DEATH BY FALLING PIANO.

I
wished
I could just delete the message, but I couldn’t stop
rereading it. Every cell in my body wanted me to write back and tell him to get fucked and rot in hell, but I made myself wait fifteen minutes.

It worked. Within ten minutes my urge to text had gone. It dawned on me that I was exhausted of being strong all the time. Why couldn’t I be normal and get drunk and go completely psycho and wait on his steps at night so that I could throw things at him and cry and then initiate break-up sex?

I replied to Jacinta’s frantic series of where-are-you texts, stood up, and then walked slowly to the road. I got a cab straightaway, one that was driven by a man who knew better than to talk to a girl who was sniffling and wiping her eyes.

It was still early. Maybe I would go over to Iz’s. She would flip my mood pretty quick; she always did. Plus, I was dying to tell her I’d seen them together – it served as proof to me, proof that I wasn’t mad, and that I hadn’t overreacted about Jesse and his ‘break’.

As I walked up the stairs to Iz’s apartment I heard the boisterous mish-mash of tipsy voices, Bill Withers and the barbecue sizzling.

Shit.
That’s
right – Dec was here, and, judging by the sounds of it, so were 800 other wine-fuelled strangers. Awesome.

I stopped. Was I going to be able to cope with this kind of scene? I heard a loud burst of laughter.
Yes!
This was exactly what I needed. Not to be a self-indulgent sook, but to snap out of it and have a laugh and a glass of wine. Or seven.

I took out my new-season Bobbi Brown palette and touched up my under-eye concealer, my blush, slicked on some gloss and applied some liner around my eyes to make
the whole area look deliberately undone. I looked down at my outfit. This would be the last time I ever wore flats or frumpy clothes outside my front door again.

I took a deep breath, pushed the visual of Jesse and Lisa the wench out of my head, and slowly opened the door.

It was at that exact second that Dec happened to be walking past the front door, balancing five wine glasses and a bottle of Peroni on a tray.

‘Well, hi,
hi
, little Hannah!’ Dec offered a 2000-watt smile, put his load down on the hallway dresser and came over to give me a kiss. He smelled like vetiver and cedar, and if it were possible, he was even better looking than the last time I’d seen him. He was deeply tanned and was wearing jeans and a loose, buttoned T-shirt and his feet were sheathed in brown leather sandals. His hair was closely shaven, and that, along with his five o’clock shadow, made him look like he should be starring in his own TV show. A show about a hot guy…who’s…erm, hot. I blushed.

‘Hey,
Declan
. I like your hair. Or lack thereof. You look all, you know, Europeany.’

‘Thanks, Han – you’re looking well too. How are things?’

Before I could answer, Iz galloped into the hallway and ran over to give me a kiss.

‘How are you, honey? So glad you came. Hey, Dec, Josh is struggling with the fish – would you go and help the poor little man before he ruins all my Atlantic salmon?’

Dec walked away and I watched him go, taking in his muscled back and how his jeans sat on his bum.

‘Honeyyyy, look at you. You’ve still got a crush on him.’ Iz squealed and jabbed me in the arm, before pulling me through to an empty lounge room. I was relieved to note everyone was
out on the deck or in the kitchen.

‘I haven’t! He just looks…good.’

‘I’ve always said you two should get it on. Now’s your chance, baby. He and Pia are kaput.’

‘Really? Oh, they were so good together. Why did they break up?’ Despite my adoration for Dec, he and Pia were my version of the fairytale couple. If they couldn’t make it, no one could. It was like when Jennifer and Brad split. Was there
any
hope?

‘Just before he left Amsterdam. It was all very amicable from what he tells me. She needed to move to London for work, and he didn’t want to. He seems fine, actually. She’s fine with it; he’s fine with it. Arty people: they’re all liberal and free-loving; they don’t do psycho break-ups like the rest of us.’

I was beyond impressed. What a guy. So emotionally progressive.

‘Speaking of which, I bumped into Jesse at this stupid event I had to go to.’ I felt the tears prickle behind my eyes. ‘Then I saw him and Lisa Sutherland leaving together. I was walking behind them, and they got into a cab.’ I tipped my head back and took a deep breath, fanning my face at the same time.

‘Oh darling. Okay, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything… but, well, it
might
… Oooh, I don’t know how you restrained yourself. If that had been me behind them, I would’ve been pulling her hair and spitting on his face before they’d even had a chance to hail a goddamn cab!’ She shivered. ‘
God
, I’m so
angry
for you right now!’

At that moment, Dec walked into the room, holding a plate of cheese and a glass of chilled white wine for me. I
thanked him and took a long sip. Sensing he had interrupted something, he raised his eyebrows and looked from me to Iz. ‘Well, the salmon’s cruising along fine, so…’

‘Thank you, Dec darling. You know, I’m just gonna go and quickly check it all the same.’ She shot me an ‘Are you okay?’ look before walking out. I smiled and closed my eyes to signal yes.

Dec leant against the sofa and put down the cheese plate. ‘So, how’s the new job? Iz says you’re loving it.’

‘It’s really good,’ I said, perching on the arm of one of Iz’s deranged old armchairs. ‘It’s so flash there, but I feel like a bit of a fraud, to be honest. The mag girls are all so polished and sharp. I still feel like a little girl from the country.’

‘
What
? Look at you! You’ve got great style. And you’re extremely sharp. Don’t let their façade of togetherness get to you. Inside, everyone feels a little bit out of place. That’s why they overcompensate with their expensive shoes and their attitude.’

‘Hmmm, I guess. I’ve got good at faking it, in any case.’

‘Faking what?’

‘Looking like I belong. I’m still the girl who spills food on herself every day.’

‘And I’m sure that’s precisely why they all love you. That’s why
we
love you.’

I blushed. I wish I had an off button for that.

‘It’s pretty full-on,’ I continued. ‘People definitely scrutinise you. Especially what you wear, which, as I’m in beauty, not fashion, kind of spins me out.’

‘Tough crowd. Sounds like you need a BA in Costume Design. But as long as you’re enjoying it for now, Han. We all know you’re destined for bigger and better adventures.’

‘We do?’

‘Of course. I see you maybe on TV one day, or writing books. Have you thought about moving overseas? Or is that a no-go because of Jesse’s job?’

What? Why hadn’t Iz told him? ‘Actually, Dec, we split a few weeks ago.’

‘Oh, Hannah, that’s awful… I’ve just been through the same thing. Not nice at all.’ He looked down and scuffed his foot on the table leg.

‘Really? With Pia?’ I feigned surprise, although even I wasn’t buying it. But Dec wasn’t looking at my face; he was still looking at his feet, the way people do when they are really sad about something. Like losing their gorgeous model girlfriend.

‘Dec, I’m so sorry.’

He looked up and exhaled. ‘No, it’s for the best. You never find yourself fully while you’re in a relationship, don’t you think? Unless, well, unless the other person has already found themself.’

I nodded in a deep way, with my eyes squinted so I looked intelligent. Truth was I had no idea what he meant. I hadn’t found anything post-break-up, except that my body was much more tolerant to drinking than I’d ever suspected it could be.

‘So, have you been having fun since you’ve been single, Han? I’m sure the men have been filling up your various inboxes with fervour?’

I blushed. Again. What was
wrong
with me?

‘No, no, gosh. Not at all.’

Not the
greatest
response.

‘I mean, sure, Iz and I have been having fun, but nothing serious.’

Just at that moment, Iz scooted out of the kitchen to
yell ‘Dinner’s up’, before racing back to a hissing wok and a crowded kitchen. A crowd I had no intention of mingling with until I’d inhaled this glass of Semillon.

One glass turned into two, which turned into three and then four, and before long I was telling outrageous stories of wicked magazine women, much to the amusement of Dec and Iz’s largely alternative friendship circle.

‘And then, at the next function, she said, “Can you believe they only gave us Tiffany!” Like she was expecting Cartier or something!’ The table collapsed into laughter at my tale of petulance and greed. I hoped no one there knew anyone in beauty, or I was as good as dead.

Iz stood up and started clearing the plates. ‘Well, guys. Now is the part where I kick all the drunks out. Which makes…oooh, all of you, I’d say.’

‘You included,’ piped up a blonde girl wearing a muted gold bikini under her grey marl hooded mini-dress as a kind of showing-but-not-showing gesture. Clearly she was not off to the beach, nor had she been there earlier, but I liked it. It was very representational of the group – slightly avant-garde, slightly bohemian, and terrifyingly cool.
Noted and appreciated, noted and appreciated.

I began helping Iz clear the plates, and tried to hold three wine glasses using only one hand. Of course, one fell and smashed. Eight people screamed out ‘Taxi!’

‘Hannah, leave it, you’ll cut yourself. Dec! Can you bring out the dustbroom and shovel? Dustpan and…broom?’

‘Dustpan and shovel?’ I offered, as I bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass.

‘Whatever it is! Can you please bring it and—’

‘Ow,
fuck
!’

I looked down at my finger. Blood was gushing out at a volume that my intoxicated eyes couldn’t quite comprehend. I felt a surge of faintness wash through veins that were already struggling with the weight of several litres of alcohol.

‘Oh Han! You silly! I not you told to…I mean…I told you not to!’

We both burst into giggles at her word jumbling, and I blinked a few times to get focus and properly assess the situation.

‘It’s not funny, quick, go to the bathroo—’

‘Show me, Hannah.’ Dec appeared from nowhere.

I flipped over my now red index finger.

‘Quick, give me that.’ He held a napkin firmly over the cut. ‘And we’ll just hold that there for now. Okay, now follow me, and I’ll bandage it properly.’

I stumbled after him, wondering why my finger was stinging so much all of a sudden. He tripped up a step and I laughed out loud, bending over to catch my breath.

‘Hannah!’ He was smiling despite his ‘serious’ tone. ‘Cut it out – you’ve cut yourself pretty badly and you need to behave while I fix it.’

‘Yes, sir.’ I made the zipper motion over my mouth and followed him into the bathroom, which was glowing with the light of haphazardly placed candles, and the scent of frangipani and coconut. It was kind of romantic, even with Iz’s washing basket overflowing in the corner.

Dec had to close the door in order for us both to fit, and then he proceeded to run cold water over my bloodied digit.

‘Duzzenhurt, you know.’

‘It will tomorrow, when the booze wears off.’

‘Oh. Well, I’ll deal with that then. Maaan…wonder what time it is? I should go.’

‘You can go just as soon as I’ve put on some disinfectant and a bandage, I promise.’

I looked at Dec’s toned brown arm as he blotted my cut. He was a beautiful man, there were no two ways about it. Or three ways, even. God, I still had the biggest crush, even though I was clearly past the age you should be using the word crush, let alone admit to having one.

I sighed.

‘Everything okay? You’re not going to faint on me, are you?’

‘No, no, just, no. I’m fine.’ I looked up at him and smiled, not realising how close his face was to mine. He was completely focused on wrapping my finger, murmuring as he went.

‘That should do it.’

I was still looking at his face when he turned. He looked at me. I looked at him. It reminded me of how a first kiss usually went.

Sobriety bolted through me and my eyes locked on to his. I couldn’t look away; I didn’t
want
to look away.

And then he kissed me softly, softly on the lips, as delicate and chivalrous as I’d always expected him to be. My entire body tingled and I started to kiss back into him, to open my mouth to signal that I was totally, incredibly fine with this, and gosh, maybe we should push the envelope a little seeing as though we were already—

‘Someone in there?’ A fist banged loudly on the door.

We pulled apart and my hand flew to my mouth, which was pulsing with the memory of what had just occurred.

‘Yep. One second, just putting on a bandage, hang on a second…’ Dec pulled open the door and put out his hand to allow me to go first.

‘Thanks, Dec. Man – I’m
busting
. Hand all right, Hannah?’

‘All fine!’ I said brightly with a big smile. I walked out into the hallway in a daze. What had just happened there? Had I started that?
Surely not.