Australia doesn't really have any Winter holidays. Christmas is in Summer and it's often hot, humid, and full of flies and mosquitoes. On the other hand, it's also the time of year where things slow down and it is very common for businesses to close between Christmas and New Year.
This is set in the same world as one of my Christmas stories from last year—Secret Santa—and a character or two crossover. No need to have read it, but there is a link between the two stories.
As always thanks so much to the amazing analysts who read through and offered suggestions on my draft—you all rock!"
~*~*~*~*~
If I'd allowed him to buy me a drink, I might have understood why I was sitting here listening to his drivel, but, as always, I had insisted on buying my own gin and tonic. Acting the polite person I sometimes was, I surprised myself and did not simply leave once he had opened his mouth.
"I mean, I kinda get it, but, I mean, there's just sumfin' about it, like, those fuckin' pigs just never see it comin' and then, BOOM! You get 'em right between the eyes and they're down. I got a pic, here..."
Shoot me now. I avoid guys who brag about their love of pig shooting, but his profile said nothing about his hobby. He talked about being a landscaper and I figured we'd talk about plants, but no, he mows the local cricket field as a volunteer (I'm suspecting community service order) and does odd jobs for mates as he tries to work out what to do with his life.
I shouldn't judge him. Here's me at almost twenty-three trying to work out what to do with my life. I might have graduated with first-class honours in literature, but no one is banging down my door wanting to read my stories. Instead, I'm stuck in a dead-end retail job.
"See look! Fuck she was a big one. I'm headin' up north again over Chrissy—you should come with us, I mean, we need a cook, plus, I mean, it gets lonely at night and there's four of us blokes to take care of, if ya get ma drift. You ever been spit-roasted?"
I almost spat out my drink. He's on his third rum and coke and I'm pretty sure that's just with me—something tells me he's been drinking most of the afternoon. He looked nothing like the profile photos he had shared with me. I was surprised he hadn't already sent me a dick pic.
"You seem different from your profile." I try to divert the conversation.
"Yeah, me missus helped."
"You're married?" I hope my incredulity was hidden in my sudden reply.
"Nah, got a kid together ya know. She's great when I'm desperate like, but, she's too fuckin' uptight most of the time. I prefer looser chicks if ya get ma drift."
I knew I needed to get away from this disaster of a date. We had absolutely nothing in common. When I saw Charlotte again, I was going to murder her. It was her idea for me to try the online dating thing again. I had been so determined to get good grades at uni that I had avoided contact with men. I was sure I was the only twenty-two-year-old virgin left in this city.
"Estelle? Estelle Wittington, is that you?"
Rock, meet hard place, both abutting me.
"Na mate, this is Stella and she's wiv me." My date had stood by this stage. It was almost comical seeing him try to square up against a man who was at least a head taller than him.
"Sorry, um, Bruce, this is Tobias Mortimer, he's my sister's boss. Tobias, this is, well, Bruce." I hoped I would never discover his last name.
"How's Sophia getting along? I keep meaning to check in on her and Alice. I assume Lydia's doting over both of them?" I was almost surprised Tobias could speak pleasantly towards me, but then again, he was not in the same class of douchebag as Bruce.
"Yeah, Soph's doing great. Alice is amazing. She's almost two months old now and has the most precious smile. Lydia is just besotted with both of her girls."
This was the most I'd spoken since I had met Bruce at this bar which was unusual in itself as I usually developed verbal diarrhoea when I was nervous. Perhaps my brain had realised there was nothing to be nervous about when with an idiot like Bruce. He told me he'd never been here before and complained it was a little yuppie, but I guess as long as they had rum flowing, he didn't really mind. I glanced over to see him slumped in his chair.
"Sorry, Bruce, was it? Yeah, Estelle's sister is my PA, but she and her wife have just had a baby."
"Ya mean she's a fuckin' carpet muncher? Geez! Does she let ya watch? I mean, girl on girl, that's hot as fuck!"
Tobias had a look of shock on his face. I didn't care what he thought of me. I'd met him a few times and always found him to be a grumpy stuck-up douchebag. At Sophie and Lydia's wedding, he'd cornered me and tried to talk about web design or phone apps or something that didn't interest me. When I suggested we hit the dancefloor together he looked at me as if I had two heads and told me he could not deign to embarrass himself in such a manner. He then turned to another stuck-up douchebag guest who I did not know and started to talk about horse racing.
Soph had often commented about how kind he was, but to me, he was just a jerk-face arsehole who had nothing in common with me. Sure, he was hot, but it was the kind of heat that was meant to burn, and I doubt it would ever burn pleasantly. He also had a reputation that preceded him.
Every time I read a newspaper he was in the social pages, usually with another blonde model dripping off his arm at gallery openings or nightclubs. He'd done well for himself and was always described as one of this town's richest eligible bachelors. I doubted if a woman had achieved the same success as him, she would have been described as a rich eligible spinster or bachelorette or whatever.
Reaching for my phone I opened the dating app and clicked several buttons allowing me to delete my profile. It was clear after my third disastrous date for the month, that it was never going to lead me to someone I could even contemplate having sex with.
I never bought into the whole virgin purity myths that seemed to abound and it didn't bother me that I had not yet had sex, but I also knew I was unusual. I wasn't saving myself for the right man, I just hadn't met anyone I had wanted to have sex with, so images of a Hemsworth brother (it didn't matter which one) ravishing me would have to do for the moment. My fingers had served me well up until now, and it looked like they would be serving me well for a while to come.
When I was six and Sophia was eleven, my parents had divorced. They'd always fought like wildcats and, even though I was young, I could see that the separation was a good thing. Mum was an academic who used poststructural feminism to deconstruct educational opportunities for girls in mathematics. She'd been a primary school teacher before Sophia was born but was drawn to academia.
Dad was an accountant. They were like fire and oil—attracted to each other and so volatile. I had always assumed I was never planned, or if I was, it was to try and shore up their relationship. Dad had remarried and I got the impression he and Rachel, my stepmother, were happy. They had moved up north and I had two half-brothers who I hardly ever saw. Technically, I should be visiting them this Christmas, but I was able to blame my retail job for not being able to get away.
I lived in my dad's old unit, the one he moved into when he and Mum first separated. Sophia had lived in it going through uni and Dad insisted I do the same. He refused to take rent from us. He'd always paid his child support on time and gave more than he needed to by law. It was great being able to move out of home, but at the same time, it had not been the same love nest for me that it had been for my sister.
"That's interesting, don't you think, Estelle?" I had been too absorbed in my thoughts to focus on the conversation the two men I'd been ignoring had been having.
"Um, sorry, look, just got a message and I have to go. Sorry, Bruce, I really don't think we should do this again." And I hurried out of the bar.
~*~*~*~*~
"How was your date?" I was so happy to be working with Charlotte the following morning.
"Don't ask. I've removed my profile and deleted the app."
"It can't have been worse than the last one." Charlotte chuckled. My raised eyebrows told otherwise. "He was cute in his profile pic."
"His 'missus' as he termed her, helped with his profile. I think to get rid of him."
"No way. He's married?"
"Apparently she's only the mother of his child and occasional fuck buddy. He asked me if I was into being spit-roasted and then asked Tobias if my sister and her wife let him watch because that was 'hot as fuck.'"
"Wait, what, where does Sex-on-a-Stick come into it?" I regretted getting drunk with my friend after Sophia's wedding and telling her that he was hot as hell, but we had nothing in common.
"He happened to be there and came over to say hello. Asked about baby Alice and was polite. And hey, if I did have a crush on him as you assume, I would have been mortified to be seen with someone who had a mouth like Bruce's, but it was good I could slink away from them both."
"You know, I was thinking, next year, you should get Soph to ask Toby if Mortimer Tech would donate something to the shelter you help with."
The other reason I had no time for a dating life was I spent at least half a day a week during term-time helping at a thrift shop near the uni that raised funds for a local women's shelter. I'd been dragged along in first year as part of a project for a subject I was taking and never stopped helping. I enjoyed hanging around with women of all ages sorting through donated items and getting them ready for others to grab as a bargain or, if they were good quality, sending them on to the shelter so they could be used by women in need or any children that were there with them.
Only operating in term-time because of funding restraints and the lack of volunteers in vacation periods, I often wondered how we could make the shop an all-year-round proposition. I had, from time to time, helped out on the shop floor and it was nothing like the retail work I was involved with now. It had purpose and meaning.
I continued to dust the shelving as Charlotte went to convince a customer that bedlinen was a perfect choice for a Christmas gift for that special someone. It was only mid-November and I already hated Christmas. I had not liked it before I worked retail, but I hated it even more now. We had carols piping through our sound system. It was hot outside, yet we had decorated to make everything look like a winter wonderland. It was commercial and it was fake.
Over morning tea, I looked at a text from my mother. She was inviting me to dinner. I knew it was out of duty rather than a desire on both of our parts. Ignoring her message, I went back to work. I knew I was a disappointment to her. She may have raised Soph and me to have feminist ideals and always encouraged us to study maths and science, and yet here I was studying romance in nineteenth-century literature.
Fifteen-year-old Stella had loved the tale of
Jane Eyre
and the dashing Rochester, but rereading it when I was no longer a teenager saw me see Rochester for what he was—a douchebag who wanted to control Jane. I had written my honours thesis on it and how, although Brontë had tried to break away from the patriarchal ideals of the time, she had still been trapped by them.
I figured my mother thought I was too. Romance had always been my guilty pleasure. I was over the tropes that had drawn me in during my teenage years. At times I wondered if I was holding off having sex yearning for a hero to come along and sweep me off my feet, but I had always been more reserved than her and my sister, and preferred fictional potential partners over real-life ones.
Sophia was the outgoing one who loved marketing and advertising. She had met Tobias Mortimer at uni and been with Mortimer Tech since she graduated, starting as a marketer, and ending up being her boss's right-hand woman, part executive assistant, part sounding board. She also managed the marketing team. I don't know how she did it, but she loved it and always raved about her job and how brilliant it was. It sounded dreadful to me.
It was one of those random acts that saw Soph organise Lydia's catering company to cater for an event and the two of them hit it off right away. Soph had had girlfriends before, but this was different and within twelve months they were married and now, twelve months later, were parents to Alice.
