The Better Woman (25 page)

‘How do you set the price?' she asked him one day.

‘Easy,' he replied and opened a spreadsheet on his screen.
‘First, we value all of the assets. Then we add on the known income receivable. And divide by the number of units. Basic maths, really.'

Jodi was fascinated. ‘How do you value the assets?'

‘We upload the share prices from the night before.'

‘What happens if you make a mistake and work it out wrong?'

‘We check everything very carefully.' Andrew regarded her from behind his silver-framed glasses. ‘Look, if you're that interested, we can go for a drink after work and I can bore you with all the details . . .'

Jodi was on the verge of turning him down, but she stopped. Andrew was quite good-looking with his boyish face, gentle brown eyes and dimples at the corners of his mouth.

‘Okay,' she shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

‘Dates are more about the preparation than the actual event,' Alison had once said. ‘It's so much fun picking what to wear and doing your hair.' Which in Alison's case meant changing her tresses to a bright orange or, one time, electric blue. ‘Then there's all the anticipation mixed in with the nervousness. No wonder it's often an anticlimax when you actually meet the guy.'

My very first date at the ripe old age of twenty-two
, Jodi thought as she touched up her make-up in the office toilet.
Well, better late than never, I guess
.

Her white shirt and pinstriped skirt looked very ordinary and the last thing she would have chosen to wear had there been more notice. She opened an extra button on the shirt, revealing some of her year-round tan.

Andrew was waiting in the foyer. Jodi had only ever seen him sitting down and was surprised at how tall he was. His light
brown hair was spiked, as if he'd run some water through it, and his jacket was slung over his shoulder.

‘Well, you know this city a lot better than I do,' he grinned. ‘Where can we go to have a nice chat about fund accounting?'

Jodi laughed. ‘Let's try the Hilton.'

Outside, a gusty wind whipped down George Street and Jodi pulled the lapels of her jacket together.

‘Gosh, it's cold,' she said with a grimace.

‘Cold?' He looked amused. ‘This is positively balmy next to London.'

The Hilton was only a block away and they were soon descending the marble steps into the bar.

‘What would you like to drink, Jodi?'

‘Well, I'm the one who wants to pick your brain, so maybe I should get this,' she replied.

‘You can get the next one.'

‘Oh.' She felt tremendously pleased that it wasn't going to be just a quick drink. ‘I'll have a beer, please.'

She found two spare stools while he was at the bar. She didn't take off her jacket. Despite what he'd said, it
was
cold. He came back with the drinks and his knee brushed against hers as he slid onto the stool.

‘Cheers.' He raised his glass of lager and took a sip. ‘Now, what do you want to know?'

Jodi asked him about his family, his life back home and what he liked to do in his spare time. She asked him about his travels, his friends and what kind of music he listened to. In fact, she asked him about everything but fund accounting.

On the steps of the Hilton Hotel, on their way out, Andrew's hand cupped the underside of her chin and tilted her face upwards. His lips were warm and tender. Jodi returned his kiss
with a passion she didn't know she was capable of. He gathered her closer, kissed her harder. Carried away in the moment, they temporarily forgot where they were.

‘Move along from the steps now,' the bouncer said gruffly, trying to hide a smile.

Up on the street, the cold wind brought a gush of reality.

He wouldn't want to kiss me if he knew the truth
.

Andrew, feeling the cold this time round, put on his jacket.

‘How do you get home?' he asked.

‘Bus.'

‘Come on, I'll walk you.'

Her hand felt warm in his grasp as they walked down the street. Leaves and the odd piece of litter blew against them. Jodi's hair streaked across her eyes and, after many futile attempts to tuck it back behind her ears, she let it be. She walked slowly, not wanting the night to end or reality to intrude again.

‘That bus says
Dee Why
,' said Andrew, his pace quickening.

‘Oh.'

The buses were usually a half-hour apart. How unlucky that there was one about to leave!

Andrew bounded onto the bus.

‘What are you doing?' she giggled. ‘You live in the opposite direction, you big idiot.'

He handed the driver the fare. ‘Thought I'd come along for the ride.'

They sat down the back, his arm resting across her shoulders. The bus rattled its way down Military Road and over Spit Bridge. Jodi gave Andrew, who'd never been north of the city, some orientation.

‘This bridge opens up to let the yachts through. The road traffic has to stop and wait.'

‘I wouldn't mind living here,' he said, eyeing the houses on the harbourside, ‘and causing a traffic jam with my yacht.'

‘All you need is a few million,' Jodi quipped.

He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Well, we do work in investment banking – another few years and who knows?'

The bus chugged up the hill and after that it was an easy run to Dee Why.

‘This is my stop coming up,' she said, making a sad face.

Andrew leaned down to kiss her and once again Jodi forgot where she was. In the distance were the grinding brakes of the bus, the lurching stop, the bang of the doors as they opened.

Finally she pulled away. ‘I'd better go.' She stood up, feeling decidedly starry-eyed. ‘Enjoy the ride back to the city.'

He winked. ‘I will.'

Jodi was apprehensive about going to work the next day.

What if he ignores me? Acts like nothing happened?

She walked into the office, settled at her desk and logged onto her computer. Andrew's desk was at the other end of the floor. She didn't need to see him until she required the unit price for the day. She could drag that out for another hour.

‘Good morning.'

She jumped at the sound of his voice. A blush invaded her face. Luckily, her colleagues weren't watching.

‘Hello, Andrew.'

She noticed that his face was a little red too.

‘Jodi . . .'

‘Yes?'

‘Will you go out with me again?'

‘Okay. Yes.' She nodded, her head bobbing like a fool.

‘Friday night?'

‘Okay.'

‘Same place?'

‘Let's try the other end of town: the Rocks.'

He made a move to return to his desk.

‘Andrew . . .'

‘Yes?'

‘Do you have the unit price for today?'

This time Jodi could fully enjoy the anticipation of the date. For three days she deliberated about what to wear before she decided nothing in her wardrobe was good enough and dragged Alison out on a last-minute lunchtime shopping spree.

‘Gosh, you must be keen on him,' Alison remarked when they met up outside her office. Now that she was part of the work force, her hair was toned down and her nose ring an accessory she wore only at weekends. ‘This is so not like you.'

‘I know,' Jodi hurried her across the road to a busy shopping mall, ‘but I was dressed in my absolute worst the last time we went out – this time I want him to see me at my best.'

With only an hour at their disposal, they raced in and out of chain stores and boutiques. Eventually Jodi settled on a pair of bootleg jeans and a low-cut white top.

‘Phone me tomorrow,' Alison instructed before rushing back to work.

Jodi went back to her desk and pretended to work. In her head she played out their date: meeting at the Orient Hotel, laughing and talking over drinks, and finally the walk to the bus. Funny that it was the end of the night she was most looking forward to, when they were alone, holding hands, kissing. Maybe he'd get on the bus again.

She got changed at work. In the harsh lights of the bathroom
she thought the white top didn't look half as flattering as it had in the shop. Her hands shook as she applied her mascara. A black blob smeared her eyebrow and she wiped it off with some tissue.

The walk down George Street calmed her. She arrived at the Orient, scanned the crowd and realised he wasn't there.

A stool freed up at the bar and she put her jacket on it. She ordered a drink and had taken a few sips when she saw Andrew weaving through the crowd. She waved, beamed a happy smile at him. He made for her direction, but didn't return her smile.

‘Hi.' She greeted him with a kiss and, when his response was lukewarm, wondered if she had been too forward. She gestured to her drink. ‘What would you like?'

‘Nothing for now.'

He took her arm and guided her away from the bar, to the gaming room, where it was quieter.

‘What's wrong?' she asked.

‘This.' He reached into his trouser pocket and took out a folded page.

Jodi quickly glanced at the copied newspaper article and accompanying photograph. All the happiness poured out of her.

‘Why didn't you tell me?'

‘We've only had one date, Andrew. Obviously I would have told you at a later point . . .' Jodi swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘Where did you get the article from?'

‘One of the blokes in the office gave it to me,' he answered flatly. ‘I told him that I had a date with you – he gave me an odd look at the time, then handed me this today.'

Jodi shook her head, tears smarting in her eyes. ‘I thought that nobody knew. They never said anything to me.'

Andrew's reply was harsh. ‘Everyone knows – everyone except
me
.'

‘Sorry,' she mumbled. ‘I'm so sorry.'

Then she fled the dark room with the flashing poker machines and zombie players.

‘Wait a minute,' she heard him call but she kept going, through the overheated bar, out into the crisp night. She shivered. She'd left her jacket behind. But there was no going back.

‘Excuse me.'

‘Sorry.'

On she went, bumping shoulders, apologising, ignoring the curious stares at her tear-streaked face.

A while later she found herself climbing the steps to the Harbour Bridge. The exertion slowed her and numbed the hurt she was feeling. She walked along the pathway, alongside other pedestrians: people who came from normal families; people who'd never had their photograph in the papers; people whose colleagues had no reason to gossip behind their backs. She wondered what she had done to deserve being so different to them.

Down below, the harbour was black and swirling. Barbed wire arched over the railing to prevent desperados from jumping in. But she could scale it. If she wanted.

Jodi dismissed the thought as soon as it entered her head. She wasn't a jumper, she was a survivor.

She walked as far as Neutral Bay and caught the bus from there. Grandma was watching TV when she got home, a cup and saucer balanced on her knees. She frowned disapprovingly at Jodi.

‘You'll catch your death, girl.'

‘I left my jacket in the pub.'

Grandma sighed and lifted the cup, her lips pursed in anticipation of the sugar-laden tea.

‘That top doesn't leave much to the imagination at all,' she
declared, the cup rattling against the saucer as she set it back down.

She resumed watching the quiz show on the TV, completely unaware that she'd said those same words about Jodi's dress on the night of her eighteenth birthday.

When the alarm started to beep on Monday morning, Jodi fleetingly considered not going to work. Rain that had lingered on from the weekend splattered her window. She felt warm, sleepy and in no way ready to face Andrew and her other colleagues.

She yawned widely and pulled back the covers. She needed the job. Liked the job. It had given her a much-needed foot in the door of the banking business and she could see the possibility of further promotions. The harsh reality was that she'd been foolish for thinking she could keep her past a secret.

The day started with the usual half-hearted enquiries about the weekend. ‘Do anything special?'

Jodi was about to reply in the negative when she thought the better of it. ‘I had a date with Andrew Ferguson on Friday night.' Their jaws dropped at her announcement. They neither wanted nor expected to hear specifics about her life. She continued on cheerily, ‘He wasn't too keen when he found out about my stepfather, though. Pity – I kind of liked him. I've never had a boyfriend, not even a date, really – I think men are quite scared of me . . .'

They didn't know where to look or what to say. Jodi found it hard not to laugh.

Then Celia, one of her older colleagues, cleared her throat. ‘The weather is shocking, isn't it? We need the rain, though.'

They all murmured their agreement, relieved at the change in subject, and then their fingers became busy on their keyboards.
Jodi, her lips twitching in a smirk, opened the mail, sorted out all the cheques and began to update the cashbook.

‘Jodi?'

Her heart missed a beat at the sound of Andrew's voice. She didn't let it show, though, as she swung around brazenly in her seat.

‘Yes?'

‘Today's price is four dollars and ninety-eight cents.'

For a moment she was slow to cotton on.

Oh, the unit price
, she realised.
Stupid me! Why else would he have come around?

‘Thanks,' she snapped, aware of the sidelong glances of her colleagues.

Andrew backed away at her tone and Jodi returned to her work, sorry that she'd been so abrupt. It wasn't Andrew's fault. Of course he'd been horrified when he'd found out the truth. She was horrified herself on the occasions she allowed herself to think about it.