ladies all grinned back at him, knowing they had all successfully played their parts in the night’s hastily organised small play.
‘Will you be coming to see the musical?’ Esme asked.
‘You never know your luck,’ he responded with a wink, and with that the three grey-haired pirates left in a twitter, and he and Laura were again left alone in the room full of people.
‘So,’ he said.
‘So,’ she returned. ‘I’d better go after them. If I’m not there within a minute they’ll be back for shandies. And their husbands will all be onto me first thing in the morning complaining that the play is just a front for the Country Women’s Drinking Association.’
She reached over and grabbed her cooling apple pies, turned and walked away. It seemed their meeting was over.
‘Isn’t the Pirate King a male part as well as a singing part?’ he called out curiously, not yet wanting the encounter to end.
Laura spun on her knee-high black boots but kept walking away from him. ‘Not so many males in the Country Women’s Association,’ she explained.
‘Isn’t that discriminatory?’
‘So join!’ she said, throwing out her hands. ‘Be my guest. You can even take my part.’ She tore off the bandana and a mass of auburn curls spilled onto her shoulders. She fluttered the bandana towards him, and when he didn’t accept the offer she spun about and walked away.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Ryan warned.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ she called, as she waved the bandana over her shoulder and headed out of a side door, slamming it behind her.
Ryan stood staring into space. The image of those tight purple pants would take some time to dissolve from his memory. But all he had was time. For the first time in…for ever he had nothing planned: no jobs lined up, no reports to complete, only the final edits on the textbook with the complementary CD to turn in to his editor.
He slid back into the booth and nursed his now warm beer. Chatter and laughter from the other patrons filtered back into his awareness. And he was left…wanting.
The last sentence of Will’s e-mail to Sam came back to him.
…no matter how far away we all actually live from one another, we know that we are never really alone.
Had his brother really felt so alone in the great hustle and bustle of Melbourne? Had he needed his scattered family around him that much? And had living around these people really made all the difference?
Ryan remembered the last time he and Will had spoken, and tried to see if he had missed the signs of Will’s isolation even then…
Ryan’s hotel room phone rang. He was on his way to a black-tie function in the piazza in front of the Pantheon in Rome. He thought about not answering, but a quick glance at his watch showed he had time.
‘Ryan Gasper,’ he answered.
‘This is a collect call from Tandarah, Australia,’ the operator said in English, with a strong Italian accent.
‘I’ll accept,’ Ryan said, slumping down onto the side of his bed. ‘Will, is that you?’
‘Yeah.’ His little brother breathed out.
‘Excellent. So, are you coming? I’m off to Paris in three days, so I can just meet you there. My PA back in Melbourne is ready to book everything the second you say yes.’
‘Well, actually, bro,’ Will said, his voice so heavy and glum Ryan pretty much knew what was coming before he even spoke, ‘that’s what I was calling about. I’m not coming.’
Ryan rubbed his hand across suddenly tight eyes. ‘You can’t possibly tell me you’ve had a better offer.’
‘Actually, I have.’
For the briefest of moments Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. ‘You’ve taken the scholarship offer at Oxford?’
‘Umm, no. You see, there’s this girl…’
Ryan leapt off the bed and strode back and forth across the room, as far as the telephone cord would allow. ‘Will, do we have to have this conversation again? You don’t know how good you have it, kid. I don’t know how many more times any of us can stick our necks out for you. You can’t keep turning away the opportunities we have created for you.’
‘But, bro, this is an opportunity I have created for myself.’
‘Considering who you are, I would hazard a guess she is the opportunist in this scenario.’
‘That’s way harsh, bro, and so far off the mark it’s funny. Maybe you should give up the Paris thing and come visit me instead. Meet her. See this place. It’s phenomenal.’
‘Be serious.’
Will’s exasperation broke through. ‘God, you just don’t get it, do you? I can never be you! Out here I feel like I don’t have to be, either. I can be somebody new. Somebody I like.’
The red light on Ryan’s phone began to flash. His taxi was waiting downstairs. ‘Look, Will, I have to go. Just tell me you’re still considering Paris, okay?’
A deep heartfelt sigh wafted down the phone line. ‘Sure,’ Will said. ‘Okay.’
‘I’ll talk to you again in a couple of days, and by that time I hope to hear better news. Take care.’
Ryan hung up the phone, his whole body thrumming with frustration. It hurt so much that the kid was letting this time slip through his fingers. The last thing he wanted was for his little brother to look back on his wasted youth with regret. He should have been studying, travelling, networking, embracing the world—not some hick chick in the middle of the Outback.
He picked up his keys, slipped his wallet into the hidden pocket in his tuxedo jacket and left. Next week. Next week when he was in Paris he would call him back and try to talk some more sense into the kid.
Of course by that stage Will would probably be done with the whole farming dream. He would have become bored with the girl and decided to become a fire-stick twirler in Byron Bay.
Tremendous…
Coming back to the present, Ryan caught Jill’s eye at the bar and she came straight over.
‘Another beer?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘But there is something else you can do for me.’
She raised an eyebrow and waited.
‘Who is the local real-estate agent?’
‘That would be Cal Bunton.’
‘Let’s get Cal Bunton on the phone, then, shall we? Let him know I have some business I need to conduct. It has to be tonight, but I will make it worth his while.’
CHAPTER
