‘I… erm,’ I stuttered, unsure how to play my response, how to make the doubt sound sincere. ‘I think she’d be okay with it actually.’ More than okay. I’m pretty positive she’d be alright.
‘Are you sure?’ He raised his bushy brows high, pushing his glasses further up his nose. ‘Do you want to ask her now?’ He motioned to my phone, already clutched in my hand.
‘Oh, er – yeah – sure.’ I pulled up her email and tilted the phone away from him, typing as quickly as I could:
Dear Ms Sommers, Great news. Can’t wait to welcome you then.
When I could guide her around the gallery, until we were in a quiet space and I could ask the questions that would finally make my Sydney make-believe life real again. ‘I’m sure she’ll be okay with it. It’s CreateSpace, after all,’ I assured Tim, as he puffed up his shoulders, the compliment overshadowing the uneasiness of the moment. I couldn’t help but match his smile; I’d finally loaned myself some time. But now to loan myself an apartment.
‘Tim, could I…’ I looked at Olivia, not wanting to force her out but needing to get myself in, into a ruddy apartment. ‘Could I just have a quick word?’
Tim looked confused, like a quick word was what we were just having, but obliged all the same.
‘Tim, I was wondering, what with me staying to help out a bit longer…’ I emphasised the words, reminding him of the ones he had just said: what would we do without you? ‘Do you think I could I get my first week of wages a little early?’ It felt good to finally ask. I needed this. Just like he’d said he needed me. ‘It’s just, you know, kind of a little tight moving countries and everything. Hard to navigate…’ Especially when you tie your new life in knots.
Tim looked at me, neither nodding nor shaking his head.
‘I think, maybe, you know…’ I kept saying those two little words as if any part of Tim could possibly identify with where I was at. ‘When I start earning in the dollar, it might be easier spending in the dollar so if I could just get—’
‘How early?’ Tim finally interrupted, bringing my rambling to an end. I’d just pushed back my fake start date for him, the least he could do was be grateful.
‘Today early?’ I asked, wishing I’d sounded a little more entitled.
‘Well, I wouldn’t usually…’ Tim glanced briefly at Olivia on the other side of the room.
‘I understand…’ I began, preparing myself for the let-down.
‘But you’ve been so good to us,’ he said. ‘Flexibility begets flexibility.’ He didn’t need to know that everything about my life right now was flexible.
‘I’m sure that’ll be okay,’ Tim added for good measure. I couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. I was starting to think I’d be okay too.
Chapter 20
This one had to be okay. Trepidation filled every fibre of my being as the estate agent turned a key in the lifeless white door to the last apartment on my list – at least it didn’t have a cockroach crawling up it like the last one, or eight people sharing the same kitchen like the one before that. Standing to one side, the agent gestured towards the sitting area-cum-kitchenette, accentuating the ‘flood of natural light’ – translation: at least this one has a window. The room’s features took less than a minute to go through – sofa, cooker, fridge, a little TV – it was strange how she used ‘little’ for that part, like the flat wasn’t small all over. Two of the bedroom doors were locked as they were being used by the landlord for storage – making this seemingly the only one-person apartment in the whole city that I could have a hope of renting. As she led me into the available bedroom, I was surprised to find a double bed with clean bright sheets. After the three terrible viewings I’d endured, it looked irresistibly attractive. ‘Call me Mimi’ paced across the room, the noise of her heels on the stripped wooden floor drawing my attention to the authenticity of its planks – a nice touch. She opened a pine door just like the one we had walked through to reveal a modest en suite, almost new. I liked it. The living space even looked better as we walked back from the bedroom. I could get a few plants, put up a picture or two, add in some photo frames. I mentally started to move my limited stuff in. Thanks to Tim and my willingness to stay on at CreateSpace, a hefty deposit threatened to spill from my back pocket into Mimi’s hands.
‘You like it?’ she asked, almost as desperate as me for the answer to be yes.
‘I do.’ I nodded.
‘And you have your deposit?’
‘I do,’ I said again. I always thought I’d be saying those words around now standing across the aisle from someone handsome, soon to return to our three-bedroom house – not agreeing to stay in an apartment as small as Zoe’s front room. But it was Sydney, a flat in Sydney.
‘And your first month’s rent?’
‘I, er – I’ll have it by the end of next week.’ I gritted my teeth, eyes pleading.
‘You do have a job here?’ She gritted her own, eyes narrowing.
‘I do.’ I didn’t skip a beat.
‘A permanent one?’ Her eyebrows accentuated the request. Was I really that easy to read? It sometimes felt like I had ‘TEMPORARY’ written across my forehead.
‘I won’t fall behind with payments, I promise.’ I evaded the truth, forcing a smile wide enough to fill the room.
‘Okay.’ Mimi’s voice softened. ‘There’s one other couple looking at the room,’ she explained. Of course there bloody was. I circled on the spot to take in the room again – it took all of two seconds. A couple would be on top of each other in here. Maybe that was the point? I tried to mask my jealousy, from Mimi and myself. This was a step forward.
‘Leave your number with me and I’ll let you know who the owners decide to go with by tomorrow morning at the latest. Sorry if that’s a bit last minute.’
Three days to get my life together, find out where Sam’s head was at and move into a new place. Mimi had no idea how last minute my life had become.
6 August 2020 – Sydney, Australia
My phone buzzed violently. It was on silent but the racket of its vibrations on the wooden bedside table was anything but. I reached out to rescue it in one ninja-like swipe. It wasn’t like I had to ‘come round’ – I’d been shuffling from one side of the bed to the other all night.
Clearing my throat to answer, I smoothed down my hair as if the caller could see me. All those hours watching Made in Chelsea had made me forever on guard, as if anyone would be interested in watching my messed-up reality. About to put the phone to my ear, I looked down to see the alarm icon mocking me, the face of the clock swinging from side to side. ‘Call me Mimi’ still hadn’t called. I needed that apartment; I was running out of time.
‘Jess?’ Sam’s voiced called on the other side of the door. I ran to the mirror to check my appearance; although he’d seen me every which way as a girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend status mandated much higher standards. My mind flicked forward to Saturday as I wondered how the hell I’d maintain them on a surf board. Something told me it would be nothing like the movies. But Sam had wanted to get me surfing for such a long time. The thought of his hands guiding my hips onto the board lifted my hopes. ‘Do you want a lift?’