been badly misled by his nephew and he consoled himself that his sense of obligation to her was a worthy motivation.
After spending almost a decade as a university lecturer, he was well aware of the pitfalls of offering even the most casual friendship to an attractive young woman. But in Annie’s case it should be quite a simple matter to guard against repercussions.
He’d kept the invitation very low-key. He’d even been ungallant enough to let her find her own way to the bridge, but now he wondered if she might get lost.
He switched his attention from the river to the traffic speeding to join the network of concrete ribbons that formed the freeway system and in his peripheral vision he caught sight of a hand waving.
Annie.
She was waiting at the pedestrian crossing on the other side of the road. The lights changed and within less than a minute she came hurrying up to him.
‘I hope I’m not too late,’ she said, panting slightly, as if she’d been running.
‘Not at all.’
She dropped to her knees, and focused her attention entirely on the dog. ‘Oh, Basil, you’re beautiful. I could recognise your gorgeous black and white spots when I was still a block away.’
She ruffled Basil’s ears and made a great fuss of him and Theo tried not to notice the way her hair shone in the sun, or how slim and lithe she looked in her black shorts and sleeveless pale blue top. He turned quickly to study the clusters of apartment block towers built close to the river.
‘So which way are we going?’ she asked, jumping to her feet.
‘Over the bridge. Ready?’
‘Sure.’
The Goodwill Bridge was restricted to pedestrians and cyclists and as they set off across its gentle arc the city buzzed around them. At this early hour the air was still and cool, the sky clear, and the parks and gardens green. Brisbane looked clean and at its best.
‘Hey, Theo, is that Italian writing on your T-shirt?’
Annie had the most disturbing way of asking unexpected questions. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, looking down at the slogan on his chest. ‘It’s an ad for coffee.’
‘Can you read Italian? Do you know what it says?’
‘It’s something like…For people who really care about the coffee they drink.’
She looked excessively impressed. ‘Have you ever been to Italy?’
‘Yes, many times.’
‘Wow, I’d give anything to see Rome or Venice or Florence. I’ve read all I can about them and I drool over the pictures.’
‘Italy’s beautiful. I think it’s my favourite European country.’
‘Really?’
To his surprise she looked puzzled.
‘You have a problem with that?’
‘No, it’s just that it’s Damien’s favourite country too.’
‘But he’s never been to Italy.’
She came to a sudden halt and Theo tugged on Basil’s lead. ‘Hang on, boy.’
‘This is weird,’ she said. ‘Do you think Damien has been pretending to be someone like you?’
‘I can’t think why. What makes you think so? Because of the dog and Italy?’
‘Not only that.’ She turned to look out at the river where an old wooden ferry was chugging from one side to the other. ‘He used to tell me things about philosophy, too.’
Theo laughed. ‘Philosophy? Damien doesn’t know the first thing about philosophy.’
‘Well, he sounded knowledgeable to me.’ She turned back and offered him a sheepish smile. ‘But then I wouldn’t have a clue. I’m more of an old movie fan. As far as I know, Scarlett O’Hara’s “Tomorrow is another day” could be philosophy.’
‘And you wouldn’t be too far off the mark.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m beginning to feel so stupid about this. I can’t believe all the things I lov—liked about Damien were all make-believe.’
Not make-believe, Theo thought. They were me.
Annie’s china-blue eyes were round with worry and when their gazes met she chewed her lip and colour stained her neck and cheeks. Had the same idea occurred to her?
When Damien came back he would strangle him.
She let out a long sigh, then shrugged. ‘I’ve got to stop talking about Damien. I’m over him. Let’s keep walking. I didn’t mean to hold you up.’
They walked on and Annie’s gaze darted everywhere, her hungry eyes taking in the towering buildings, the busy traffic on the freeway and the boats on the river. She looked as if she’d never seen anything quite so exciting.
He’d noticed the same sense of delighted engagement with her surroundings at the university yesterday, and now he tried unsuccessfully to suppress the thought that the clever, academic women he’d dated in recent years were a bunch of jaded cynics.
They reached the other side of the bridge and he looked below to the dry dock where volunteers were restoring an ancient tugboat. He’d been taking a keen interest in their progress.
‘Oh, look at that.’ Annie was pointing ahead to a forest of very modern unit buildings surrounded by landscaped gardens and restaurants.
‘What are you looking at?’
‘That dear little clock tower peeping over the fig trees.’
‘Oh, yes. It’s part of the old South Brisbane Town Hall. It’s very Victorian, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s all red-bricked and old-fashioned and out of place, but it’s gorgeous,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it disapproves of all these modern aluminium and glass buildings.’
‘Just like the old Queen would have.’
‘Exactly!’ Annie laughed and her hair glinted pale gold in the sunlight and, without warning, she flung her arms skywards and executed a three hundred and sixty degree spin. ‘Oh, I lo-o-o-ve this city!’
And bang went Theo’s resolve to remain aloof.
‘Would you like to stop for breakfast?’ he asked.
Breakfast? Annie bit back a cry of surprise. Come to think of it, Theo was looking surprised too. Perhaps he’d realised that adding breakfast to a walk along the river turned the occasion into something that was almost a date. Maybe he was having second thoughts.
She wondered if she should let him off the hook.
But
