‘You got me a plant?’ Zoe said as I thrust the peace lily towards her.
‘Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?’ I joked, leaning forward to give her an awkward kiss on the cheek. I felt like we were playing grown-ups, but Zoe had taken to her role well.
‘I’d prefer wine.’ She grinned as she stood back and beckoned me into the front room, walking across the large living space to place the plant on the glass coffee table in the centre. ‘Beer?’ she asked, already pushing the door into the kitchen.
‘Shit, Zo.’ I followed her into the kitchen. ‘This is an adult house.’
I knew we were in our late twenties, that she was on a decent salary, that Ben was on one too, and yet somehow it took me by surprise. Zoe grinned, eyes wide in pride, as Ben came in from the open patio doors to join us, opening his arms wide to embrace me. If I didn’t love Zoe so much I was sure I’d hate him for being so great.
‘Burgers are ready.’ He smiled, nodding to the spacious patio outside, April’s lukewarm temperatures unable to quell his excitement.
‘Awesome.’ I grinned, grabbing my beer from Zoe and following them onto the decking. The large wooden table was set for three and Zoe and I each pulled out a chair.
‘Thanks for having me, guys.’ The words felt strange to say, seeing as for most of the time we’d known each other, Zoe’s house was usually mine. I looked across at her and Ben, both with identical sauce smudges stuck to their smiles. This was a big step, and I was happy for them, I really was. I stole a glance to the empty seat beside me, trying desperately to ignore the niggle of selfishness rising within me – but I wanted to be happy for me too. I just wasn’t sure I could do that here any more, whether I needed to go and find that happiness somewhere else, somewhere new.
10 September 2020 – Sydney, Australia
I heard the door slam shut. Alice had a nightshift; she’d be out until morning. Lifting the covers I had been pretending to sleep under, I stood, already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I’d felt heavy all week, but now I felt lighter, less tangible somehow. I felt like I was drifting, like I wasn’t really here. And very soon I wouldn’t be.
It didn’t take me long after my failed attempt to find even the most mediocre of jobs to come to the decision that Sydney wasn’t for me. It didn’t suit me. It never had. I’d tried to fake it until I made it. Now I’d been exposed and there was nothing left to hide. Dragging myself to the mirrored wardrobe, I ignored my reflection as I slid the doors open. Bending down, I picked up my rucksack and began to stuff my clothes into it: the bikini I had hoped to live in here, the blue sundress I had bought to impress Sam, the heels that had made me look the part at CreateSpace. I held them in my hands, turning them over. The red soles were starting to rub off, and with another scratch a large piece of paint flaked off completely; they were fakes. I should have known they weren’t authentic, that even though they looked real for a time, they were just a lie. Like everything else in my life, never quite the real thing.
Maybe some people just weren’t meant to make it? I would almost believe it if I didn’t seem to be the one person royally screwing up their life.
Walking out of the spare room and into Alice’s Homes and Gardens apartment, I bit back the tears. Doctor, gorgeous, entirely in control… I listed her accolades as I slumped down onto her sofa. Nice, hospitable – I added countless gifts to her list. I’d been all misery and still she pretended she was fine having me around. Maybe she was fine with it? Maybe she liked the company? But I couldn’t rely on other people for the rest of my life, could I?
I looked at my phone: still no calls. No call from Mum and Dad – they probably thought I was having the time of my life here. No call from Zoe – too busy playing house with Ben. You can’t keep looking back. I heard my mum’s comments ring out in my head, the words she had said when Sam had told me he needed space all those years ago. I couldn’t keep looking back. Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the rucksack, lifted it onto my back and, with knees buckling, walked out of Alice’s apartment, down the stairwell and onto the dusk-lit streets of Coogee, on the road once again.
The fresh sea breeze hit me straight away. The suburb’s evenings were becoming more and more beautiful the closer it drew to summer. Tonight, the palm trees were silhouetted against the orange sky. I wished I could enjoy them. I remembered feeling the same way in London, looking at Tower Bridge illuminated against a summer sky, crowds of tourists laughing and taking photos by the Thames. I was the one who lived there, and yet I never quite fitted in. I longed to call my mum, to tell her how I’d screwed up, to ask her if I could come home. But the Lake Distinct wasn’t my home either. I had managed to outgrow it without putting my roots down anywhere else. I couldn’t keep running back to my parents every time I felt down anyway. I was a grown-up, for goodness’ sake.
I forced myself to walk the three blocks across to where the road met the coast. For once the sea looked calm. Could I really leave this place? I longed to jump in, to feel myself duck under the cold water, submerged in its peace. Friends, career, love; I couldn’t think of one reason to stay. I had to leave. I had to go back, or go somewhere else. Just go, just escape.
Locals glanced at my backpack and smiled as I walked past, eyes kind as if to say: enjoy your time here, mentally grouping me with the eighteen-year-old girls I had seen yesterday. Young and full of promise. Fuck them. Fuck those promises. I was almost twenty-eight and none of them had been fulfilled, not one. My school yearbook spoke of someone ‘Most Likely To Be Famous’. Our university friends had already walked Sam and me down the aisle. My dad had told us we’d thrive in London. None of it had come true. None of it.
Stepping one foot in front of the other, I tried not to fall in love with the scenery all over again. Without even realising it, tears were streaming down my face and the expressions of passers-by turned from hope to concern. I was back at square one. But not the square one of a hopeful eighteen-year-old with the whole world at her feet. The square one of a soon-to-be thirty-year-old who never thought she’d end up here. As the Coogee hills started plateauing, I stuck my hand out to call down an oncoming cab.
‘Where to, mate?’ The cabby leaned out of the open window. I bit my bottom lip. I hadn’t even thought. I just wanted to get out. You can’t keep looking back; I heard my mum’s words play around my head again. I reached out for the warm metal door handle. But you can’t keep running away. I wasn’t running away. I just didn’t belong here. I had no reason to stay. I wasn’t…
‘Bloody tourists!’ the cabby scoffed as the lights turned green and he pulled away, just another person impatient for me to get it together. ‘Jessica?’ Shit. Shit. Shit. ‘Where the hell do you think you’re going?’
‘Olivia?’ I turned to see her tottering towards me on her heels. All Sydney women seemed to share the ability to make me feel like a fat, broken blob.
‘Please tell me you’re off to Manly for the weekend?’ She eyed my backpack with suspicion. I had never seen her so forceful.
Without speaking, I shook my head, the same fat tears rolling down my cheeks.