Odd Socks Read online

  ‘Great,’ Richard and Joanne say in unison and then turn to smile at each other.

  ‘Yuk,’ replies CJ with considerable feeling.

  ‘Whatever,’ I say morosely as I tip my mug over a trifle too far and some of the contents slop out and onto the table. ‘Bugger!’

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ asks Cam as she gives me yet another puzzled frown.

  ‘Yep, sure.’ I hoist myself out of my chair and fetch the dishcloth from the sink to clean up the mess. I notice that I’ve finally got Richard’s attention, but I’m guessing it’s for all the wrong reasons. I wipe the table, fling the dishcloth back over the bench towards the sink and watch it land with a thud. Then I flop ungracefully back down in my chair.

  ‘Do you want a hand with anything, Cam?’ asks Joanne politely.

  ‘No, under control.’ Cam stands in the middle of the kitchen and looks around as if she’s lost something. ‘You lot just sit there and keep out of my way and I’ll have it all ready in a jiffy.’

  ‘Ah, Camilla,’ Richard says, making an effort to be sociable, ‘CJ your only child?’

  ‘No, I’ve got two others.’ Cam bobs down, picks up some metal tongs from the floor and gives them a cursory wipe with the tea-towel. ‘But they’re a fair bit older – Samantha’s nineteen and Benjamin’s fifteen.’

  ‘School?’

  ‘Yes. Well, Samantha’s finishing this year. She’s doing her VCE and wants to join the army next year – apparently.’

  ‘The army!’ says Joanne. ‘You’re kidding!’

  ‘They’re not here,’ CJ adds helpfully. ‘Sam’s at Sara’s and Ben’s at work with Phillip. He’s a bet.’

  ‘Good bet or bad bet?’ Richard asks CJ with interest.

  ‘A good bet of course,’ says CJ disparagingly as she starts to collect her toys back up. ‘He’s going to marry my auntie.’

  ‘Ah – Ben is?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ CJ now favours him with the look she reserves for complete morons. ‘Phillip’s going to marry my auntie. He’s the good bet.’

  ‘Well, he’s a good bet till he marries her, anyway,’ adds Cam with a wry grin.

  ‘Cocky, isn’t she?’ Joanne says cheerfully to Cam.

  ‘That’s one way of putting it,’ I mutter under my breath.

  ‘So, Richard . . .’ Cam starts carving up the ham and laying the slices out on a large platter. ‘What about you? Married? Children?’

  ‘Widowed. One child. A girl.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that!’ says Cam, looking at him sympathetically.

  ‘Don’t be, we get along all right.’

  ‘What?’ Cam pauses in her slicing and stares at him with her mouth open.

  ‘He means his daughter,’ I say, rolling my eyes at her.

  ‘Yes.’ Richard flashes an appreciative glance in my general direction and then returns his gaze to somewhere around Cam’s left shoulder. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘His wife’s been dead for seven years,’ adds Joanne informatively. ‘It was a car accident. She was–’

  ‘So Eve’s with me now,’ Richard interrupts smoothly. ‘Seventeen years old. Going on thirty.’

  ‘Oh! My nineteen year old is like that,’ says Cam with feeling, obviously pleased to change the subject. ‘Can someone take this plate into the dining-room?’

  Joanne jumps up and takes the platter from Cam. Which is a lucky break, because I had no intention of moving while the conversation regarding Richard’s marital circumstances and residence of offspring was still on.

  ‘So how did you meet Joanne then?’ Cam asks with interest as she opens a bread-maker and the room immediately fills with the heady aroma of freshly baked bread. ‘Have you known her long?’

  ‘Funny story, that,’ chimes in Joanne, who has just returned from the dining-room. ‘I’ll tell you when we’re all sitting down.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ Cam looks across at me again and raises her eyebrows expressively. ‘Well, then, would someone take this bread in?’

  Joanne takes the bread, Cam picks up the salad platter and they move towards the dining-room. I decide I’d better do something apart from sitting here and acting like an idiot so I stand up and make the first excuse I can think of.

  ‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ I announce to nobody in particular, and then I make my escape. But when I get there, I just lean against the wall and take several nice, deep breaths. And try to pull myself together.

  I can’t believe the way I’m acting – usually I’m fairly calm, controlled and comfortable with most situations. And I am the sociable type. Maybe I’m having a cerebral haemorrhage or something equally mind-altering. Because I could not have just fallen in love like that. This isn’t Sleepless in Seattle – more like Flaky in Ferntree Gully.

  Besides, that sort of rubbish simply doesn’t happen outside of soppy romance novels, and I’m already in love – with Fergus. This guy isn’t even my type! The eyes might be nice but I don’t like dark-haired guys, especially not when the dark hair tops a present-day Ichabod Crane who dresses like the father in a fifties sitcom. And who can barely string three words together! Besides, I’m too young to be interested in widowers.

  If I thought I could get away with it, I’d jump into the car and head straight for the safety of home. Or perhaps I could steal the 4WD and go bush. But I’ve never even watched one episode of Bush Tucker Man, so I’d have no idea how to sustain myself once the Fruit Tingles in my pocket ran out. And I also have no idea which direction the bush is from here – or from anywhere, for that matter.

  So instead I walk slowly back towards the kitchen and make a resolution to start acting like a normal, relatively mature human being from now on. I can hear the ebb and flow of the conversation from the dining-room as I walk down the passage and realise they must already be helping themselves to lunch. As soon as I enter the kitchen, Cam jumps up from the dining-room table and comes out to join me. I peer around her but can only see Joanne’s green back from my vantage point, so Richard must be around the other side of the table.

  ‘What’s up?’ Cam whispers loudly as she reaches my side. ‘You’re acting really strangely. Are you okay?’

  ‘Sure I am,’ I reply heartily. ‘I just had a big day yesterday and it’s all catching up with me. I’m fine.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. Now let’s get back to your guests.’

  ‘Okay – if you’re sure.’ She looks only half convinced but ready to be persuaded. ‘I’ll pour you a champagne and that’ll perk you up.’

  ‘Sounds great.’ We walk out to the dining-room, where Joanne appears to be discussing the value of the Australian dollar at considerably more length than it really deserves. My stomach rumbles and I notice the only empty chair is, naturally, right between CJ and the object of my unexpected attraction. He stands up and pulls the chair out for me to sit down.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say politely, and relatively maturely.

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Mummy, can I hab a glass of that?’ asks CJ, pushing her plate away and pointing to the champagne. ‘I’m so thirsty.’

  ‘No.’ Cam leans over and pushes her daughter’s plate back in front of her. ‘Now, eat up and not another word till you’re finished.’

  ‘Not fair,’ CJ grumbles as she begins methodically to massacre several lettuce leaves. ‘I neber get to drink anything good.’

  ‘You’ve got juice,’ says her mother, ‘be happy with that.’

  ‘Bet it’s not as nice as that.’ CJ nods towards the champagne bottle. ‘Not nearly.’

  ‘And you’d be right.’ I smile at her as I take a sip of my champagne and decide to drink this glass and settle my nerves before I attack the ham and salad. ‘Mmm, hmm.’

  ‘Not fair!’

  ‘So, where were we?’ Cam ignores her daughter and looks brightly at her guests. ‘Joanne – you were going to tell us how you met Richard, weren’t you?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Joanne waves her sandwich
in the air enthusiastically. ‘Well, there I was, sitting in the departure lounge in Singapore and –’

  ‘Hang on,’ interrupts Cam, ‘do you mean to say that you’ve only just met?’

  ‘Correct,’ says Richard, looking rather amused.

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Cam looks at him slightly askance, no doubt calculating the chances of him being an axe murderer. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘Well, anyway, I was dog-tired and looking forward to getting some actual sleep. And I was really worried about who I’d be sitting near – you know how you can get stuck next to some really gross people, but for once I got someone decent – Richard! He’s a Capricorn, so that explains it. All the way from Singapore to Melbourne and we talked and talked. We must have covered just about everything and anything important that’s ever happened to us. I don’t think we got a wink of sleep, did we?’

  ‘No,’ Richard agrees dryly, taking a sip of champagne.

  ‘We just sat up discussing stuff.’ Joanne sends another fleeting glance in Richard’s direction. ‘And when I found out he was from Tasmania but was going to be stuck in Melbourne for a few days – well, obviously it was the hand of fate. So I insisted I show him around. Isn’t that right, Richard?’

  ‘Yep. Right.’

  ‘And it’s amazing how quickly you get to know people on trips like that.’ Joanne pauses while she finishes off the rest of her sandwich. ‘I reckon everybody who plans to get married should go on a long-distance trip together to really work out whether they’re compatible. It’s the same as knowing someone for about six months in normal time, wouldn’t you say, Richard?’

  ‘At least,’ agrees Richard as he crumples his serviette on top of his plate and leans back. ‘Camilla – delicious. Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘For having me too. Thanks.’

  ‘No problem. And it’s been lovely meeting you,’ Cam replies politely. ‘I’m only sorry I burnt lunch and you ended up with this instead.’

  ‘No. Really.’

  ‘But it would have been better with quiche.’

  ‘Don’t see how.’

  ‘Well, the bread was a bit chewy.’

  ‘Lord, enough already!’ Joanne interjects, echoing my thoughts exactly. ‘It’s nice, you liked it, he’s glad to be here – now let’s move on!’

  ‘Well, good to see you haven’t changed.’ Cam glares at Joanne and stands up to start clearing the table.

  ‘Excuse me?’ I look up at Cam with my fork still poised over the plate of ham she is about to remove. ‘Um, excuse me?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean anything.’ Joanne stands as well and picks up the salad platter. ‘Sometimes I just say things without thinking.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ I say again politely, pointing my fork towards the plates of food in their arms. ‘Yoo hoo! Remember me?’

  ‘No, it’s okay, Joanne. It’s me. I suppose I’m just a bit touchy because I stuffed up the quiche. And the bread was chewy.’

  ‘No – my fault totally. Here, let me help you.’ Joanne gathers some cutlery with her spare hand. Then they both proceed to remove the lunch remains to the kitchen, where they can be heard continuing to apologise to each other.

  ‘Excuse me?’ I say once more, this time to nobody in particular. ‘I hate to mention this but I haven’t had lunch yet.’

  ‘You c’n hab mine.’ CJ pushes a plate full of what looks like well-masticated salad in front of me. ‘I’ll swap for your drink.’

  ‘Hmm. Think I’ll pass, thanks.’

  ‘Don’t blame you.’ Richard slides CJ’s plate across and places it on top of his, then unfolds himself from his chair and walks around to collect up the scattering of lettuce from the table near her placemat. He puts these carefully on top of the plates and then takes them out to the kitchen. I’m left with CJ, who is staring at me balefully. I drain my glass and smile at her. After a couple of minutes, Cam comes back into the room with a damp cloth and gives the table a searching glance before turning to me.

  ‘Would you believe they’re doing the dishes?’ She picks up the empty bottle and looks at me with concern. ‘Now, sure you’re okay? How’s it going?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I reply heartily. ‘Who needs food? That champagne worked wonders – got any more?’

  ‘Of course.’ Cam drops the cloth on the table. ‘In fact, I’ll grab it now and you can do the honours.’

  I take the cloth, lean forwards and wipe the table down thoroughly before straightening the placemats. CJ scrambles off her chair and disappears in the direction of her bedroom and, a few minutes later, Cam comes back in loaded with a bottle of champagne and my cheesecake on top of a stack of dessert plates and forks.

  ‘Here’s the champers. And could you cut this up too, Terry?’ She deposits the lot right in front of me, then plops into a chair and leans forwards conspiringly. ‘What do you think – not exactly the chatty type, is he? Can you believe they’re together?’

  ‘No!’ I reply, a little more forcefully than I meant to.

  ‘Hey, calm down!’

  ‘Well, how do you know they’re together?’ I ask in a more normal tone.

  ‘I’m only guessing,’ replies Cam, looking at me, puzzled. ‘Out in the kitchen she asked me twice what I thought of him. Usually that means they’re together.’

  ‘No it doesn’t,’ I reply shortly.

  ‘Hey, don’t take it personally!’ Cam looks at me with a frown. ‘What is it with you today? First you act all weird out in the driveway, then you hardly say a word through lunch –’

  ‘What lunch?’ I interrupt rudely, hoping to put her off her current train of thought.

  ‘– then you just about bite my head off when all I asked was whether you thought they might be . . . hang on.’ She raises her eyebrows as the light begins to dawn. ‘I get it! God, Terry!’

  ‘Shut up,’ I say through clenched teeth as I pick up the cheesecake knife and hold it in front of me. ‘I’m not afraid to use this.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘Neither do I.’

  ‘You’re jealous!’

  ‘Could you keep your voice down a tad –’ I cast a nervous glance in the direction of the kitchen ‘– otherwise I’ll start singing “Jingle Bells”.’

  ‘Really, really jealous!’

  ‘And I’ll tell everyone about your clever reindeer impersonation. Fooled me.’

  ‘You know, though, what I don’t get is that if you’re so damn jealous, why don’t you just do it too?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Well, why don’t you just cut loose and take the plunge? I mean, if you want it so much – do it! Right now!’

  ‘Right now?’

  ‘Yes, before you get any older! If Joanne can do it – so can you!’

  ‘So can I?’

  ‘Will you stop repeating the last bit of everything I say?’ Cam leans closer, pushes the cheesecake to one side, and grabs my left hand. ‘You’re just trying to put me off and it’s not going to work this time. I mean, if it affects you so much that you’re going to start acting all screwy, then you have to do something. Otherwise all you’ll have are regrets.’

  ‘Are you totally sober?’

  ‘Of course I’m totally sober. Well, just about, anyway.’

  ‘So let me get this straight.’ I look Cam in the eye. ‘You think that the answer is for me to march in there and just do it? In your kitchen? With him? Otherwise I’ll regret it? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘What? What on earth are you talking about? How can you do it in my kitchen?’

  ‘Well, that’s what you said!’

  ‘No, I didn’t!’

  ‘Then what were you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about you going overseas, of course,’ says Cam with a frown. ‘You’ve been talking for ages about how miserable you are at the library and how you want a change, or to go overseas, or anything, but you never actually do it. And how jealous you were when Joanne up and l
eft, and how peeved you were when we got postcards and – but, if you weren’t talking about that, what were you talking about?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Balls,’ Cam says rudely. ‘Spill it – what were you talking about and what were you going to do in my kitchen?’

  ‘Nothing!’

  ‘Nothing, be damned! Now what was it you thought I was talking about? Let me see . . .’

  ‘Let’s not.’

  ‘Hell’s bells!’ Cam’s eyes suddenly grow huge and she flings my hand away. ‘You weren’t! Teresa Diamond! And – with Richard! Haven’t you seen his knees? Why, you –you . . . and what about Fergus, may I ask?’

  I’m saved from answering by Joanne calling out from the kitchen for Cam to come show them where the plates go. She lingers but I studiously avoid her gaze while I grab somebody’s half-empty glass of champagne and drain it. My stomach rumbles in protest.

  ‘Don’t think I’m letting this go!’ Cam warns as she gets to her feet. ‘I’ll be back – never you fear! On my clean lino – well, I never.’

  ‘Perhaps you should,’ I mumble to her back as she heads into the kitchen. I open the champagne, fill up my own glass and take a huge gulp. Then I pull the cheesecake back over and carefully cut it into quarters and then into eighths. I examine the sliced cake carefully for the biggest piece and then flip it deftly onto a plate for myself. The first bite tastes like heaven on earth and I groan with pleasure.

  ‘Peckish?’ Richard walks back into the dining-room and looks first at his empty wineglass and then at my largish slice thoughtfully. ‘Ah, any spare?’

  ‘Of course,’ I mumble around my cheesecake as I feel my face go red with embarrassment.

  ‘Excellent,’ he replies as he takes the cheesecake platter and starts to dole slices onto the plates, ‘taste good?’

  ‘Yes,’ I answer although, in fact, it does not taste quite as good as it had a minute ago. ‘Yes, delicious.’

  He finishes with the cheesecake and then, taking the champagne bottle from in front of me, fills up the flutes around the table. Cam and Joanne come back in talking animatedly about the idiosyncrasies of out-of-body experiences. Cam sends me a look fraught with meaning that makes me wish I were having an out-of-body experience right now.