Avoiding Mr Right (27 page)

In January I was so busy analysing the impact of the first six
months of the implementation of some of our new policies
and programs that I didn't have time to think about James
and what was waiting for me on my return back to Sydney.

My time at DOMSARIA had clarified my absolute
commitment to forging a career in arts and culture, but I
was heading back home to my old job in education.
Although I was worthy of a promotion I knew there
wouldn't be one until a position became available, so I felt
like I was going backwards. I still wanted to be Minister
for Cultural Affairs one day, and that meant I'd have to
start looking at vacancies in other departments almost
immediately in order to keep moving in the right direction.
I was only now beginning to realise how much I would
miss my job here in Melbourne – and my colleagues.

'You got a minute, boss?' Sylvia and Rodney were at
my door.

'Yes, well I won't be boss for much longer.'

'That's what we wanted to talk about,' Rodney said,
following Sylvia into the office and closing the door behind
them.

'Oh, come right in and close the door behind you,
please,' I joked. We had a good rapport, the three of us, and
they took charge when they needed to. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong, Rodney just had something he
wanted to run by you.'

'Well, speak now or forever hold your peace,' I joked,
trying to hide my heavy heart.

'You've heard of that new Centre for News on Email,
Radio and Downloads?'

'Otherwise known as the Centre for NERDs? Yes, I've
heard of it, it's the joke of the bureaucratic world. Why?'

'They're looking for a CEO, and I've got the inside that
they love what you've done here, what with policy and
setting up a strong foundation for the team.'

'So, you're suggesting I be the CEO of NERDs. Is that
what you're telling me? I'm not quite sure how to take that.'
I thought it was hilarious, but neither Sylvia nor Rodney
laughed.

'He's serious,' Sylvia said.

'Oh, right. Look, I'd love to be in charge of NERDs,'
I giggled, 'but I wish you wouldn't give me these teasers
on the eve of me leaving. It's hard enough to say goodbye
and go without you giving me options to stay. How hard
would it be to manage NERDs anyway?' I couldn't help
myself, and they both finally cracked a smile.

'We just don't want you to go is all,' Sylvia sniffled.

'We've loved working with you – just wanted to thank
you for being such a considerate, kind and always-there-for-us boss,' Rodney said earnestly.

'Aw, gee, thanks,' I didn't mean to sound corny, but I
was touched.

'And it's not because we don't really like the dragon lady
who's starting in your position next week,' Rodney added,
trying to lighten the mood.

'Aw, gee, thanks again – I think?' I told him and
looked towards Sylvia, who was blotting her eyes, no
doubt hoping not to smudge her expertly applied kohl.
'You do realise that I would poach you both and take
you with me, if I could. A manager is only as good as
their staff. And as management goes, I've had a very easy
run with you two on my team. So, in actual fact, I should
be thanking you.' And tears started to fall from my own
eyes as Sylvia passed me a tissue.

'Right – can't be seen to be crying in front of the rest of
the staff. Let's fix ourselves up and head out to that luncheon
I know everyone's been waiting to have.'

We all went to lunch and there were more tears all
round. Sylvia made a speech on behalf of my team before
announcing she'd written something poetic for me. I
started to cry before she'd even started reading.

'I was going to write you a haiku, but haiku are not my
strong point. Then I thought a sonnet, or an ode, but I
decided on a limerick, because it just seemed the best way
to sum you up. Here goes:

'There's a girl from Sydney called Peta
She's your friend the minute she greets ya
She's the world's best boss
Now the department's at a loss
So if you get the chance you should meet-a.'

I sobbed unashamedly while the rest of the table laughed
and cheered loudly. I blew my nose, took a deep breath and
stood up.

'Right, well, I don't have a prepared speech, because my
speechwriter has been busy writing Nobel Prize–winning
limericks. Thank you, Laureate Sylvia.' And there was
another round of applause.

'But I did want to take a moment to let you all know
how much I've enjoyed working with you the past twelve
months. I've had an amazing year both professionally
and personally, I'm very sad about leaving Melbourne
and the department and all the friends I've made here.
And I'd like to make special mention of my wing-woman,
diarist, bodyguard, travel agent, driver and now, personal
limerick-ist, Sylvia.' I looked directly at Sylvia, who
smiled through black-ringed eyes. Her attempts to
remain smudge-free had failed. 'I'd like to thank you for
making my job at DOMSARIA not only manageable,
but pleasurable as well. Finally, I'd like to make a toast
to you all, and wish you well in all your goals. Cheers.'
With that everyone raised his or her glass, and I knew that
one of the most important parts of my life in Melbourne
had come to a close.

I'd agreed to meet up with Mike for a quick farewell
at the George before heading home, but I was feeling
emotionally drained by the time I got there.

'Hello, beautiful,' Mike said when I arrived. 'Sorry, I'll
start again – hello,
Peta
.'

'Hi.' I looked into his blue, blue eyes and I was suddenly
overwhelmed. If I stayed there feeling as vulnerable as I
did, I'd say or do something that I knew I'd regret
immediately. I was leaving Melbourne tomorrow morning
and James would be waiting for me at the airport at the
other end. My year was up. I'd met the challenge I had set
myself professionally, and it was time to go home. Kissing
Mike at the eleventh hour would only knee-cap me, Mike
and James at the same time.

I tried to swallow the lump rising in my throat. 'I'm
really sorry, but I feel completely wiped out and I don't
think I can stay. I'm sorry.'

Mike looked disappointed, but he nodded.

I started to walk off.

'Hey, aren't you forgetting something?'

I turned around confused. 'What?'

'Me!' Mike stood up. I didn't know if it was just another
of his cheesy lines or if he was serious. I gave a crooked
half-smile and kept walking.

'Wait!' Mike called out but I didn't stop. By the time I
got to the corner he'd texted me:

If I followed you home, would you keep me?

I didn't know what to say. I wanted him to follow me home.
But then what? I texted him back:

I'll call u from Syds when I've settled in. Take care always. Pxx

The day of my departure arrived and I was counting down
the hours I had left till I returned to Sydney. My thirteen
months were up and I was due to go back to my little flat in
Coogee, to Sauce Bar and the beach and the Ladies Baths
and my coastal walks with Alice – that is, if Liza and Gary
hadn't now permanently filled my spot. And I was going
home to James.

I felt empty as I packed up my sunny room in my
comfortable house in Eildon Road. I would miss Shelley
and all her shoes and drinking Pimm's and the house and
St Kilda. It had been an amazing year. Shelley's parents
would be home in two weeks and she'd be moving out
again too.

'You must have these.' Shelley walked in holding a pair
of red pumps and a matching bag, neither ever used.

'I can't take them – you love them. I was with you when
you bought them, remember?'

'Yes, I do remember. I bought them because you raved
about them so much. I don't use them. Red's not even my
colour really. And I bet your friends would love to see your
Melbourne style back in Sydney. Red's a very
Melbourne
colour, you know – and it goes so well with black!'

'Oh, you're wicked,' I laughed. Shelley knew how
the girls had given me a hard time about the Sydney
vs. Melbourne thing. And yes, they would love my little
red numbers. Alice would want to borrow them for sure.

'Thanks, darl – I'll wear them the first night we go out.'

Shelley and I crammed everything into her little black
Alfa and she took me to say goodbye to Josie. We cruised
along Jacka Boulevard until we saw Josie doing her beat.

'Hey, hottie!' I sung out the car window.

'I always knew you wanted me,' Josie called back as she
made her way to the car. I got out and gave her a hug like
sisters do.

'I'll miss your crazy ways, sis,' I told her.

'Yeah, I know, but don't miss me too much, okay?'

'Okay.'

'I'm coming to Sydney later in the year so we can catch
up for sure, eh? Maybe you can take me to some bars in
Newtown or Erskineville.'

'Sure thing. Would love to. Gotta run now, no tears,
okay?'

'No tears, love. Now move along, Shelley—' Josie leaned
in the car. 'Or I'll have to give you a ticket for stopping in a
no-stopping zone.'

'She would too!' I said as I climbed back in the car.

'See ya . . .' I screamed out as Shelley took off at
lightning speed.

On the way to the airport we swung around to say
goodbye to Aunty Nell, Joe, Annie and the kids. Aunt
put the kettle on and Joe had made some lemon-butter
muffins. They were to die for. I'd miss the cuppas with
Aunt and the delicious creations that I'd come to expect
from my cousin. I'd even miss suburban East Bentleigh,
which served my family well.

'Now, you write to me, Peta, and you know I love
photos, so please send me some photos, okay? You will,
won't you?'

'I will, Aunt. I promise.'

'Sorry, Peta, but we better run if you're going to make
your flight.' Shelley was pointing to her watch.

'Right, can't miss it. James will be waiting and if I didn't
get off the plane, he'd freak out for sure.'

They all walked me to the car and Will and Maya gave
me huge hugs.

'I'll write to you and send you photos,' Maya said.

'I would love that.' I kissed her on the top of her head
and got in the car, fighting back tears and a massive lump
in my throat.

'Bye . . .' I said, weeping as we drove off again, and we
hardly spoke all the way to the airport.

Shelley had always refused to use Skype or Facebook,
but we'd become such good friends I knew we'd keep in
touch. 'I'll call you,' she said as she helped me lift my coffinlike
suitcase out of the car.

'Well, that'll mean you'll have to turn your mobile
phone on.' And we both laughed in a sad kind of way. We
were girls who liked to talk, not text or email. We hugged
goodbye.

♥

As I walked up the gangway off the plane, I had no idea
what would happen between James and I. It had been an
intense year for both of us. James was a good man and
deserved good things. And so did I. Whether or not those
good things would happen with each other, I just didn't
know. All I knew at that very moment was that I could
rely on James: he loved me, he missed me when I was
away, and he wanted to give me a great lifestyle. He would
never leave me and he would never change. James was the
ultimate safe bet.

As I walked through the opened glass doors I saw him.
A man with a smile that filled my heart.

He strode towards me as I pulled my cabin trolley
through the crowd and crushed me in his arms. 'Hello,
babe,' he said.

Six months later I ironed the blue shirt carefully. I'd
never believed I would feel so comfortable in a domestic
relationship. Aunty Nell knew what she was talking about
when she said that when you met the right man it would all
fall into place.

What I felt with Mike now I never felt with James. I'd
never felt that sense of ease, the sense that things were 'right'.
With Mike it was different – I wanted to be around him.
I didn't want to send him off with his mates on Sunday,
although it wasn't a drama if either of us wanted space.

I'd moved back to Melbourne and was in a full-time
position at DOMSARIA, doing what I was best at. And
Mike was still reading books I brought home and reports
related to anything on Indigenous issues and policing.
He attended Klub Kooris with me, and art openings
and book launches, and he loved it, but he didn't do it
just to support me. He said he did it for himself, 'to be
a better man'. That was the difference. Everything James
did, he did
for
me, not with me. James did things to
make me happy, but I didn't know if he was ever happy
doing them.

I realised also what Dannie had been trying to tell me
about marriage and sex. The one thing that was never a
problem for James and I was physical intimacy, and it
had been the only thing that kept us close when we
were separated. Mike and I had great sex, too, but
we shared intimacy in so many other ways: laughing
over his stupid lines, which didn't end when we got
together; going to rallies together and feeling the
power of protest; and talking about how we both
wanted the same thing out of life – to make the world
a better place. In Mike, I'd found my soul mate. He
had been my Mr Right all along.

I didn't have the fancy lifestyle that James would've
given me, but I had the kind of mutually supportive
relationship I'd always thought was beyond me. In
return for helping Mike become 'a better man', he
taught me unconditional love. And he never, ever, ever
called me 'babe'.

For inspiration with characters, scenes, key phrases and funny
lines, my thanks go to: Josef Heiss, Michelle Wong, Ali Smith,
Rachel Berger, the boys at Sauce Bar and Grill, Prue McCahon,
Paul Galea, Michael McDaniel, Paula Maling, Bernardine Knorr,
Julie Reilly, Ray Kelly, Richard Frankland, Angela Gardner,
Kerry Kilner, Phillipa McDermott, Scott Weber, a certain muso
friend and the entire Sydney Swans footy team.

For a research base in Melbourne, thanks to: Mark Olive,
Greg and Lola the cat.

For ideas on the Melbourne vs. Sydney debates, thanks to:
Prue Adams, Michelle Crawford, Jeff Hore, Nicholas Birns, Josh
and Danielle Goodswin and Kevin Klehr.

For the essentials on how to research 'properly' in Melbourne,
thanks to: Marianne, Pete, Maya and Will, Doug and Steve,
Wesley, Rayce, Dianna, Stella, and everyone else who sat in bars,
cafes and restaurants with me.

For inspiring Peta's astral travelling, thanks to: the Greek
waiter, the Italian security guard, the American tour guide, the
Spanish customs officer, the Japanese limo-driver, Buddy Holly,
Robert Redford and Barry Manilow.

To the Random House Dream Team, Larissa Edwards,
Elizabeth Cowell and Claire Rose – Thank you! Thank you!
Thank you! – for making the dreams of a girl from the burbs
come true.

A massive serve of appreciation to Tara Wynne from
Curtis Brown for being so wonderful.

To the lovely ladies at Matraville Newsagency – for
making a Matto girl feel like a local celebrity, and for keeping
newspapers and magazines for me – I pay my respects and
gratitude.

To my friend and confidante, Robynne Quiggin, for
making me laugh on the bad days, and keeping everything
in the cone of silence. To Terri Janke for making me want
to be a better human being. And Geraldine Star for teaching
me how to be. Thank you all!

As always, a heartfelt thanks to my mum and all the
family, who tolerate me like no-one should ever have to.
They constantly demonstrate unconditional love, the kind
that Peta Tully feels she will never know or be able to give.