The Surf and Turf was busy, which at that hour of the night and that time of the year meant a handful of people scattered across half-a-dozen tables. No-one paid Kieran any real attention as they entered. He hadn’t expected them to – twelve years was a long time in anyone’s book, and the few people who’d felt the burning need to have a crack had mostly done so – but he still felt a bit relieved.
A couple of young guys Kieran didn’t recognise were drinking on the outside deck, pretending not to be cold in their t-shirts in the twilight, and he was glad to see Ash had already commandeered an inside table near the back. Ash had a beer in one hand and his phone in the other, and put both down on the chipped surface as he saw them heading over.
‘Verity stepped up with the babysitting duty, eh? Good on her.’
Kieran nodded. His mum had, without complaint. She’d simply cleared a collection of half-filled moving boxes before settling down on the couch with her husband and grandchild for a long evening of low-verbal, high-dependency companionship. Kieran and Mia had exchanged guilty looks and hovered in the hallway, taking their time putting on their shoes and finding their phones, until Verity had got up off the couch and opened the front door for them herself, rolling her eyes as they at last stepped out into the evening air.
Ash’s phone buzzed on the table and he checked the screen. ‘Sean’s on his way. He had to fix something on the boat.’
‘Anything serious?’
‘Probably not, think he’s just flat out.’ Ash took a sip of beer. ‘Even Liv was saying –’
‘What was I saying?’ A waitress appeared at the table, pad and pen in hand and sporting the Surf and Turf’s distinctive uniform of orange t-shirt and skirt. She didn’t listen to Ash’s answer, instead moving around the table. ‘Oh my God, Mia, hello.’
Olivia Birch held her arms out to Mia, who was already rising to greet her. The two women hugged, then leaned back to examine each other properly.
Kieran’s guess had been right. Even more than a decade out of high school, in garish orange and with her thick curly bun already collapsing mid-shift, Olivia was still, by any objective measure, the most striking woman in the room.
‘Hi Kieran,’ she said, over his girlfriend’s shoulder.
‘G’day, Liv.’
She looked like she might say something else, but then simply let go of Mia and opened her notebook. ‘So, drinks?’
‘Liv, thanks so much for the little outfit you sent for Audrey,’ Mia said, when Olivia returned with the tray. ‘I’ve got a photo –’
She pulled out her phone and Olivia put down the drinks and peered over.
‘God, she is so cute. Where is she anyway? With Verity?’
‘Yeah,’ Mia said. ‘We’re here all this week, though. I’ll bring her in.’
‘Do. Or stop by my place anytime. I’m only a few doors up from you.’
‘Yeah, Ash said. We kind of met your housemate earlier, actually.’
‘Bronte?’
Olivia glanced across the room, and for the first time Kieran noticed the girl from the beach, now also wearing the orange t-shirt and skirt. She was younger than he’d initially thought, only twenty-one or twenty-two, maybe. She was short, with a neat round face and wide eyes that made her look uncannily doll-like. Her hair was tied back now and Kieran could see that the colour that had looked simply dark blonde on the beach was in fact created by the kind of intricate highlights that were common on the streets of Sydney, but in this context looked exotically groomed.
Bronte was carrying a glass of red wine to a corner table, where a man sat alone glaring at a laptop screen. She made an inaudible remark as she placed the drink on a cardboard coaster and the man smiled despite himself. He sat back, stretching his shoulders, and took a decent swallow of wine. He mimed tipping the rest of the glass over the keyboard in mock frustration and they both laughed. She turned away and the man put his glass down carefully, watching Bronte over his laptop screen as she threaded her way through the tables.
‘She’s not local, is she?’ Kieran asked.
‘No.’ Olivia shook her head. ‘Summer.’
Ears possibly burning, Bronte’s gaze fell on Olivia, before clocking Kieran and Mia. She smiled in recognition, then held up a finger in a wait-a-moment gesture. She disappeared through the swinging door labelled ‘Staff Only’ and re-emerged a few seconds later holding a battered cardboard box with ‘Lost Property’ scrawled on the side.
‘Not the same, I know,’ Bronte said as she made her way over. ‘But it might save you having to buy another one.’
She passed the box to Mia. Inside Kieran could see dozens of sunhats of different sizes and colours, some virtually new.
‘We were getting about five a day left behind at one point, so if there’s anything in there for your baby, you may as well take it.’ Bronte picked up a small yellow floral hat still with the sales tag attached. ‘No-one’s coming back for them now.’
‘Thanks very much,’ Mia said, sifting through the box as she introduced them both. ‘That’s so thoughtful.’
‘Guilty conscience.’ Ash grinned as he took a slug of beer. ‘Eh, Bronte? Least you could bloody do after letting us all down before.’
‘Get lost. That water was freezing.’ Bronte’s laugh trailed off a little under Olivia’s cool gaze, and she launched into the story – how she was minding her own business on the beach, and Kieran and Mia were there, and then Ash arrived – flapping the floral-patterned hat about as she spoke. The incident sounded faintly odd in the re-telling.
‘Ah,’ was all Olivia
