head disappearing.
‘They’re all clothes,’ he said, emerging disgusted, and Nick grinned.
‘Women do that.’
‘Yeah, and men buy hair cream and silk ties. Bought your semi-trailer-load yet?’ Shanni’s eyes flew to his unruly mop and he grinned self-consciously.
‘Well, no.’ This felt strange, he thought. Weird. But…good. To be sitting in the sun with a funny, bubbly lady and a kid who no one wanted but who looked at him as if he knew everything. As if he liked him…
It wasn’t a sensation Nick had ever experienced, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
Go with the flow, he thought. And try to keep the goofy grin off your face…
‘How’s your aunt?’ he asked, and Shanni wrinkled her pert nose in disgust.
‘She isn’t.’
That startled him. ‘You mean…she’s dead?’
‘She’s in Adelaide visiting an ancient schoolfriend,’ Shanni said bitterly. ‘She left last week. Ill, my foot! Lying, conniving family. You wait until I get my hands on them.’
‘I…see.’ He didn’t quite. ‘So you stayed in an empty house last night?’
‘I stayed in a hotel.’ She gave a beleaguered smile. ‘My aunt’s locked the place like Fort Knox, there are signs saying the house is guarded by the Automatic Shotgun, Doberman and Machete-Carrying Security Company, and I don’t have a key. So I got to stay in a seedy, third-rate hotel…’
‘Shanni, you can stay at Nick’s,’ Harry said urgently. The conversation was confusing but he had one point clear. Shanni needed a bed-and he needed Shanni. The course, therefore, was crystal-clear. ‘Nick has a whole bedroom he doesn’t use and he has the biggest bed! Nick and me sleep in the chopped-up bed in Nick’s room, so you can have the big bed.’
‘Hey…’ She was taken aback-and even more so when she glanced at Nick and found him smiling at her. Well, what else could he do?
‘Yes, Shanni, it’s free.’ For heaven’s sake, what was he saying? It was as if his mouth was forming words without his head being engaged, but he couldn’t stop himself. ‘Or…’ He just had a brilliant thought! ‘You could have the chopped-up bed if you like-with Harry-and I’ll have the big one.’
‘No,’ Harry said urgently. ‘You and me have to sleep in the chopped-up beds, Nick. Wendy says boys don’t sleep with girls.’
Neither they do, Nick thought resignedly, watching Shanni grin and seeing every last vestige of a controlled weekend disappear before his eyes. Neither they do.
After elevenses Shanni went straight into bossy mode and they went rollerblading.
‘Because you guys haven’t decided what to do, it’s up to me to organise something. I haven’t been to the esplanade for years, but I bet they still rollerblade just like they did when I was here on teacher-training.’
‘Can I go rollerblading?’ Harry said, and Shanni nodded.
‘Well, sort of. It’ll be rollerpushing for you, my boy, until you get that leg straight, but I’ll bet you’ll enjoy it. Won’t he, Nick?’
‘Sure.’ For the life of him, it was all he could think of to say. There was nothing for it but to agree.
So they dumped her gear in Nick’s apartment-‘
‘I can’t rollerblade in my leg cast,’ Harry said sadly, seeing the equipment on offer and looking down at his ungainly leg. ‘And I don’t know how. Do I have to watch?’
He most certainly didn’t.
‘No,’ Shanni decreed. ‘I told you. It’s rollerpushing for you. These are just the ticket.’ And she motioned to the pushchairs beside the hire store.
‘You’re the navigator,’ Shanni told him, belting him into a pushchair. Unlike normal strollers, this one had huge wheels and a high handle, built for parents who wanted to push children with speed. ‘You say fast, and we’ll go fast. You say stop then we stop.’ She rethought that, and grinned up at Nick, who was too stunned to say anything. ‘Or…we might stop. If we can. It’s a long time since I wore rollerblades, and I don’t know how good Nick is.’
‘I’m good,’ Nick said, affronted, and Shanni grinned.
‘There you go, then. Your Nick’s a lawyer, a magistrate and a rollerblade expert as well, Harry. What a man!’
And Nick knew she was mocking him but he was so far out of his depth that he couldn’t care less. This was a day for putting pride aside.
For putting everything aside except the moment.
They rollerbladed for the day. With Harry before them they took a handle each and went flying along the beachfront-whizzing in and out of pedestrians and cyclists and dog-walkers as if they’d been born on wheels.
‘Slow down,’ Nick said at first, but Shanni grinned and increased speed.
‘Wuss!’
And after that they didn’t speak. Nick was totally befuddled-and there was no need to talk, anyway. The path was hardly crowded-it went for ever all the way along the beachfront toward the city-and their speed matched exactly.
Their movements matched exactly. When Shanni slowed, Nick slowed with her, anticipating every movement. When she turned, he turned. When a dog lunged toward them off its lead they braked as one, waited until the dog shot across their path and then scooted on again, Harry squealing with delight.
Nick watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Her curls were flying, her eyes were dancing, she looked alive and vibrant and free.
And gorgeous!
And Harry… The little boy was lit up like a Christmas tree. He sat bolt upright in his chair, his eyes were wide with excitement and he crowed with joy. Every now and then he looked up and grinned, and Nick and Shanni grinned back down at him-and then grinned at each other as he returned to the serious business of navigation.
Which seemed to be a simple matter of crowing, ‘Faster, faster, faster,’ until Shanni flung back her head, her curls flying and she choked on a bubble of laughter and slowed…
‘Here, slave-driver. What did your last horse die of? I’m about to leave my legs behind me at this speed… Nick, okay, I concede, I concede. Slow down!’
They slowed-but not much. They left the beach and followed the bike-path until they reached the river, then slowed as the crowds thickened on the river-banks, but still they wove dexterously through. Still there were no words spoken. They knew what the other intended. It was like a sixth sense.
Or more like-a combining of senses. Of becoming one…
It was like a marriage. Both felt it-yet neither could say.
And then they were on the banks of the Yarra, approaching the wide expanse of the river-bank gardens. It was the most gorgeous day and Melbournites were making the most of it. There were couples and families and jugglers and ice-cream vendors and dogs on leads, and…
‘Enough,’ Shanni decreed. ‘This is where we stop-or I’ll die of exhaustion.’
So they stopped, and they sank onto the grass, removed their rollerblades, lifted Harry out of his pushchair, nestled him between them and settled in for a late lunch.
Hot dogs. Ice-creams. Soft drink and more soft drink-‘Because I’m so dehydrated I could drink a river,’ Shanni declared, and then they lay back with the sun warm on their faces and watched the rowers lazily stroking up and down the river.
Or rather, Shanni and Harry watched the rowers. Nick watched Shanni.
‘What?’ she demanded, catching him at his gazing as she gave the last of her chocolate ice-cream a reluctant farewell lick.
‘What do you mean, “what?”’
‘You’ve hardly said a word. You just watch me. Do I have ice-cream on my nose? Did my hot dog leave ketchup? What are you staring at?’
It was impossible to lie. ‘Just you,’ he told her, and the look in his eyes made her blush from the toes up. Dear
