We finished our beers in glum silence. It was only after the waiter had taken our meal orders and disappeared again that Nick leant across the table and gave me a light punch on the arm. That irresistible crooked grin was back on his face, and I couldn’t help returning it.
‘Come on, Burrowes, let’s just enjoy our last night here. No decisions now. We’ll worry about the real world when we get home.’
That sounded like a pretty damn good recommendation to me, and by the time our meals came out, I’d managed to push back the complications that awaited me at home and relax at last. I still had to interview Ford and Bright tomorrow, but I’d done my job, and I’d done it well. I deserved to celebrate. We had a sensational three-course meal, accompanied by a great deal of wine, and relived everything that’d happened over the last week and a half.
When we left the restaurant, Nick convinced me to go to another bar and consume still more drinks. It was late when we finally started back to our hotel. I tottered a little, chuckling, and Nick took my hand to steady me. But as we continued up the footpath, neither of us let go. The reflections of the streetlights twinkled and rippled on the surface of the canal; the occasional bicycle whirred past us; the happy faces of high tourists glowed from within the coffee shops we passed.
‘I’m going to miss this,’ I said wistfully.
‘Miss it?’ Nick said incredulously. ‘You’ve been going on for days about how you can’t wait to go home.’
‘I am looking forward to getting back to Melbourne,’ I admitted. ‘But how many times in your life do you get the chance to see this?’ I gestured vaguely at the buildings that surrounded us and the canal that threaded its way around the city.
‘I know what you mean,’ Nick said. ‘It’s like life stands still when you’re in another country. You’ve got no complications—or sometimes you’ve got more.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘But either way, it’s different.’
Neither of us spoke for the rest of the way. As we entered the hotel lobby, reality weighed heavily on me once again. Halfway through dinner, Joy had sent me a text with the details of our flight the following evening, and the problems that awaited me filled my mind once again.
I hadn’t promised James anything, but I still felt ashamed for falling into bed with Nick before I’d talked things over with James. Especially after the last conversation we’d had. Nick wanted to know what I was going to tell him, and the truth was I still didn’t know. Everything had changed for me, but James was waiting for me back at home, ready to go back to our old lives together.
I knew I should do the grown-up thing and call it a night, but my hand was warm in Nick’s and I didn’t want to let go. When we reached the door to my room, we both stopped. Nick dropped my hand and took a step back.
‘I guess I’d better get going,’ he said. ‘Have to pack for the flight tomorrow.’
‘Do you want to get your camera first?’ I asked before I could stop myself. ‘Surely you don’t trust me with that overnight?’
His eyes found mine and he smiled. ‘As long as you promise not to touch it.’
I unlocked the door. For a moment neither of us moved.
‘I’m not going back to James,’ I said.
Nick’s face brightened for a second, then he grimaced. ‘I don’t think you should make that decision right now. You might feel differently when we get home.’
I reached for his hand and pulled him into the room.
‘What are you doing?’ he said.
‘Making a choice.’
I pushed him against the door until it clicked shut, and my mouth found his. He ran his hands down my back and drew me tightly against his body as we kissed, at first softly, and then with more urgency. Even after last night, my hunger for him hadn’t waned a bit. The ferocity of the kiss took my breath away. Our hands were all over each other, his stubble grazed my skin, and just as I was beginning to feel dizzy, he lifted his head. We stared at one another, breathing heavily.
‘Are you sure about this?’
‘You said we should enjoy our last night. And besides,’ I said, pulling him closer, ‘don’t you want your T-shirt back?’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Sarah Burrowes moved into my brain back in 2009 and refused to leave. For many years she languished in the virtual bottom drawer while I wrote other stories, had babies and accepted that she probably wasn’t going to fit in with the other characters in the bookstores.
But you can’t keep a tough woman down, and in 2016 the good people at Pantera Press saw her as I did, and now she’s elbowing her way into the world after all. Sarah, thanks for letting me direct your life and flex my puerile sense of humour, and for making me constantly remind myself you’re not a real person. Now, if you could just stop keeping me awake in the middle of the night, that’d be awesome.
Thank you to my writer sisters, Rebekah Turner and Samantha Bond, for your feedback on early drafts and for keeping it real when I thought I was being more clever than I was.
Thank you to everyone at Pantera Press for your enthusiasm for this book and for giving me the opportunity to call myself an author. Thank you in particular to Lucy Bell for your kind and gentle guidance and for challenging me to make it a better story. And cheers for not editing out the swears—Sarah wouldn’t be Sarah without the potty mouth.
Thanks to my beautiful kids, Finn, Cael and Lata, for being awesome people and for not minding too much when I sometimes (often) parent from
