I looked like Ed fucking Sheeran. I knew that hairdresser in Derby was dodgy when she licked her fingers to pat down a clump of hair that was sticking out on the kid whose hair she butchered before mine. Why didn’t I run out then? Or if not then, why didn’t I make up some excuse to leave when she sat me in the chair and then sneezed onto my head, twice?
Instead I was all, ‘Oh thank you, it’s lovely,’ after she gave me a fire-engine-red shaggy hairstyle when I specifically asked for a dark auburn pixie cut.
That was the old Lily, though, the Yes Lily, and I left her in Derby on the weekend.
By great planet alignment, Mum and Ross had booked a weekend away for themselves at Cable Beach on some Scoopon deal so I had their place to myself and, with no Toby around and my phone switched off, I had the space I needed. I went for three or four walks a day and when I wasn’t walking I alternated between sitting in the garden swing on the back porch and the papasan chair on the front porch. With the exception of the spontaneous haircut, I was in solitary thought from sunrise to sunset and well into the night.
And I sorted my shit out.
What I came up with was that I wouldn’t leave medicine altogether, but that I’d defer the next semester instead and see if I missed it. Having to repeat oncology next year anyway meant that deferring a semester didn’t add any extra time to the course. For the rest of this year, I would take the pressure off myself, look for a casual job and rest my tired, overworked brain.
Dad died just before I started Year Twelve. I dealt with his death by throwing myself into my studies and burying my grief. And I hadn’t stopped throwing myself into my studies for the next four years after that.
My slack attitude this year, culminating in my accidentally-on-purpose failing an exam was a signal to stop. To rest. To reexamine.
If in six months’ time I still didn’t feel that medicine was the right path for me, then I’d have to consider my options. But for now I’d stop thinking about the future, I would rest my head. And I would rest my heart.
The only way for me to have peace was to end it with Toby. He and I were never meant to be. Sleeping with a man the day he buried his wife was never going to end well. How deluded I was to believe it would. He needed time and space to grieve Jenny. His brother was right that fateful day when he caught me naked in the toilet. Toby was trying to fuck the grief away. I couldn’t be his crutch anymore.
At the end of the weekend up north, when I hopped on that plane home to Perth, my resolve was that from now on the number one person to please was me.
I squeezed another handful of mousse into my hands in an attempt to give the red mop on my head some kind of structure, but it was no use. I plopped down on the closed toilet lid, defeated. It was going to have to grow itself out. One good thing was that at least every time I looked in a mirror it would serve to remind me not be a doormat anymore.
I shut my eyes and rubbed my temples, sick of the headache I’d had since the realisation that my entire life was a mess had truly hit me. What annoyed me was that my new-found self-awareness had done nothing to improve things so far. Nothing. Unless an awful hairdo, dropping out of university and losing my boyfriend were supposed to make me feel great about myself, then self-awareness was a lying bitch.
The decision to be on my own and to live just for me sounded perfect yesterday, but here I was, only one day later, and all I felt was lonely and lost. I missed Toby. As much as I knew how wrong he was for me, God, I missed him.
I took ten deep breaths while I waited for the urge to call him to pass just like I’d done dozens of times over the weekend. At the end of the ten breaths I called Nick.
‘Hey.’ His voice was heavy.
‘Hey. Any word from Anna today?’ I hadn’t told him about Toby and me breaking up. He had enough on his plate already.
‘No. But her uncle drove the Mini around here earlier tonight and gave me the keys back. Called me a few choice words. Waved his Swiss Army knife in my face and threatened to slice off my dick with it. You know, the usual.’
‘What? That’s awful! He’s got no right to do that to you. Are you okay?’
‘Well, his business has gone down the gurgler because of Anna and me, so I can’t really blame him. Especially after the vandals attacked it on Saturday.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘Anna adores you. She’s in shock. She’ll come around, be patient.’
‘I have this feeling that she won’t. If you could’ve seen her on Saturday night, she was a completely different person to the girl I was with earlier that day. She literally changed personality in those few hours.’
‘But that might just be the shock. I mean, what do you think we were like the day Dad died? We probably changed personality in those first few hours too.’
‘Nah, this was different. It was like she didn’t know me. She sounded like a robot, with this cold look in her eyes. She didn’t want to hear a word I had to say. She wouldn’t even let me in the house. She talked to me through the screen door.’
‘Give her time. Try to call her again next week, maybe?’
‘I can’t, she’s blocked my number. And now she’s even returned the Mini. It’s over.’ His voice cracked. ‘Plus, those photos in The West made it look like I was actually with Arielle. She’ll be thinking I was out scoring the night her mother died.’
‘It didn’t look like you were with Arielle in the photos. It just looked like you were leaning on a friend after a rough night out,’ I lied. Those photos completely implicated him. ‘Anna’s had enough experience herself to know not to believe everything she sees in the paper. And she knows you, Nick. She knows how much you love her.’ I hoped that was true. It would take a whole truckload of trust and understanding from her to believe in Nick’s innocence after the photographic evidence, that was for sure.
But thank God Arielle was out at the same pub as Nick and his mates on Saturday night, photos or not. After Anna dumped him, Nick rang Bruce and told him everything. Bruce told Joel and they put their fight with Nick behind them. A couple of hours later they were at the pub where Arielle happened to be. She saw some guys heckling Nick and she could tell he was wasted. She got him out of there just in time. Only minutes after they left, there was a massive brawl between Joel and one of the men who’d been hassling Nick. Joel was now up for a disciplinary hearing himself, and that kind of extra trouble was the very last thing Nick needed.
He only just got to keep his job after his own disciplinary hearing yesterday.
‘Nick, I know you don’t want to hear it but you need to stop obsessing about Anna. You came out on top of Max Dawson. Nobody ever comes out on top of him. Why don’t you think about that instead? Celebrate how bloody lucky you are that you still have a job!’
‘Yeah, you’re right. What will I do about the Mini though? She really needs a car.’
I was glad he couldn’t see me roll my eyes. ‘Why don’t you drive the Mini back to their car park and leave the keys along with a letter in the mailbox saying you want her to keep the Mini but with no strings attached. But don’t go in there looking for her. She needs her space.’
‘That’s not such a terrible idea, Red.’
‘Shut up. I’m wearing a beanie until it grows out.’
‘So, have you thought more about what to do now that you’ve deferred the rest of the year?’
‘A bit, but I haven’t come up with much. I’ve applied for a job at Cold Rock. That’s about it.’
‘The ice cream place?’ He laughed. ‘Shoot for the stars, Lil.’
‘It’s only temporary and, anyway, have you got any better ideas?’ I snapped.
He chuckled. ‘Well, if I had to pick a job for you I reckon you’d make a pretty good doctor.’
‘Get lost.’ I was secretly happy that I just heard him laugh for the first time in days. ‘Hey, I have to go, there’s someone at the door.’
‘See ya, Red.’
It was nearly nine-thirty. Who would be knocking unannounced on my door now apart from Toby? Or a murderer? No, a murderer wouldn’t knock. It had to be Toby. Things had been so heated the other night, maybe he’d come to talk more calmly.
‘Do not have sex with him,’ I told my reflection. ‘Under no circumstance are you to have sex with him, Lily Harding.’
I rummaged in a drawer for a beanie, scooped up most of my Ed hair and tucked it in. Tufts of red fringe stuck out no matter how much I tried to hide them.
‘Do not have sex with him,’ I repeated in a whisper several times over as I fussed with the beanie, put on clear lip gloss and sprayed perfume on my wrists. I made myself walk as slowly as I could to the front door. ‘You’re toxic for each other. He still loves his wife. More than he loves you.’
My sad lonely heart didn’t agree – ‘Go on, have sex with him. It will make you feel so good, so loved.’
The debate raged back and forth until I opened the door and saw that it wasn’t Toby who was waiting outside.
And it wasn’t a murderer.
Standing on my porch, clutching a bouquet of red roses and with a heart-melting smile, was Ben.