The Right Time (33 page)

She gave an awkward laugh then, which was met with total silence.

‘This is a strictly limited offer, Finn. Honestly, if you don't say something soon –'

‘I'm on my way.'

Ellen hung up the phone and realised what she'd done. But there was no going back now. She jumped up off the sofa, grabbing the wine bottle and putting it back in the fridge. Then she ran up the hall to her bedroom, stopping dead in the doorway as she was confronted with the bed. The bed that she and Tim had shared. What was her problem? There hadn't been much going on in it for some time, so she wasn't going to get all weird about it. She didn't have time to change the sheets, but they were only a
couple of days old. She did, however, need to change herself. She started frantically rummaging through her wardrobe for something that wouldn't look like she had dressed specially; on the other hand, she did want to look at least a little sexy. Who was she kidding, she didn't own any clothes that were sexy. She finally pulled a simple long-sleeved black top off its hanger and grabbed her good jeans. It was when she went to investigate her underwear drawer that she realised the true extent of her lack of sexy apparel. Her underpants were serviceable, that was the best that could be said about them, and she had one black bra that didn't look like a safety harness, much. God, she really hadn't thought this through; perhaps a little forward planning would have been a good thing.

Too late now. She stripped off her flannel pyjamas and doused herself in perfume, then quickly got dressed. She did not stop to check how she looked in her underwear, in fact she avoided the mirror altogether. She didn't need to know how she looked, because there was nothing she could do about it now anyway. She was just putting a brush through her hair when she heard the door knocker.

Ellen took a deep breath, and then another one, and then she walked calmly up the hallway and opened the door. Finn stood under the porch light, looking faintly nervous and, it had to be said, very attractive. She supposed he'd always looked like this, she just hadn't let herself dwell on it. She'd noticed his smile more than anything, and his bare chest.

Ellen had a sudden mental image of herself sitting opposite Tim saying, ‘. . . and he's
very
attractive.'

‘Hi,' said Finn, his voice a little gravelly.

‘Come in.' Ellen stepped back as he walked past, and he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, which she wasn't expecting, so their faces bumped awkwardly. ‘Come on through,' she said.

He followed her down the hall to the kitchen. ‘Nice place,' he remarked.

‘Thanks.'

He turned to look at her. ‘And you look nice.'

‘It's okay, you don't have to do that.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You know, you don't need to butter me up, you're going to get laid anyway.'

He looked embarrassed. That might have been going too far. But Ellen was embarrassed too, she was just expressing it in a different way – by making inappropriate comments. Move on.

‘Would you like a drink?' she asked.

‘I brought wine,' he said, holding up a bottle.

‘Oh, I'd better not drink red, makes me sleepy.'

‘Sorry.' He put it down on the kitchen table. ‘It's just what I had at home.'

‘Don't apologise,' said Ellen. ‘I'll get you a glass.'

‘No, not if you're not having any.'

‘I've got some white in the fridge,' she assured him. ‘I'll have that.'

Besides, it gave her something to do. She found a corkscrew and handed it to Finn, then she got them each a clean glass from the cupboard, and retrieved the white from the fridge filling her glass. Finn poured himself a glass of the red and picked it up.

‘What shall we drink to?' he said.

Every phrase that went through Ellen's head sounded like a tawdry come-on. ‘To good friends,' she said finally.

‘I'll drink to that,' he said, holding up his glass.

Ellen took a gulp of her wine. ‘Jeez, this was a lot easier on the phone.'

‘Yeah,' he said awkwardly. ‘Maybe we should sit down, relax.'

She knew she wasn't going to be able to do that. ‘No, you know what?' said Ellen, putting her glass down on the table. ‘We should just get on with it.'

‘What?'

‘Come with me,' she said, grabbing his hand and leading him back up the hallway towards her bedroom.

But Finn stopped abruptly, pulling his hand free. ‘What are you doing, Ellen?'

She turned around. ‘We both know why you're here, so why hang around drinking wine and making small talk?'

He folded his arms. ‘What has gotten into you?'

She blinked, staring up at him.

‘I'm not a performing monkey, you know, Ellen,' he said. ‘Can you imagine if this was reversed?'

She caught her breath. ‘Oh my God, I probably would have slapped your face.' She swallowed. ‘I'm so sorry, Finn. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so bad at this.' She was choking up. She turned around because she couldn't look at him. ‘I understand if you just want to go.'

She felt his hands on her shoulders, turning her around again. ‘I'm not going, and I'm not going to slap you either.'

Ellen looked up at him and he smiled at her.

‘Why don't we go and drink some wine and make small talk?'

She smiled back. ‘I'd like that.'

‘It's just so much harder for a woman after a marriage break-up,' Ellen was saying, once they were ensconced on the sofa, drinking their wine and making not so small talk. ‘I mean, even in our case, where it was completely mutual, Tim gets to start this whole new life. He only has the kids a quarter of the time, he pays the standard child support, but because there's a whole lot of men out there who don't even do that, he's considered some kind of hero. It's like the base line is “bastard”, anything above that and you're father of the year. Who ever says to the woman, the mother, wow, you're doing an amazing job there, you're really going the extra mile?'

‘That's true,' said Finn, ‘but your kids will always be much closer to you than Tim.'

‘I know, and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. If anything I wish they could be with me the whole time,' she admitted. ‘And I certainly couldn't bear to have them any less than I do now. But men seem to be able to detach themselves a lot easier.'

‘That's a bit of a generalisation,' said Finn. ‘Sometimes we don't get a choice.'

Ellen looked at him, frowning.

‘I have a son,' he said.

‘You do?'

He nodded. ‘Josh. He's all grown up, he's a year or so older than your Kate. He's at uni in Queensland.'

‘So you were married?' Ellen asked.

‘No,' he said. ‘His mum and I were very young, and very
foolish, and she ended up pregnant. I was working by then, and my sister had finished school, so I tried to do the right thing. We both tried, but a few months after Josh was born we gave up pretending that we had any hope of making it as a couple. It was all good though, I had him most weekends for the first couple of years. Then Trace . . . Josh's mum, Tracey, she met someone, and they wanted to move to Queensland, with Josh, of course. I tried to fight it at first, got a lawyer and everything, but then I realised it was going to get really nasty. Trace and I had always got on well, which was much better for Josh, and I could see how happy she was with this guy, which could only make her a better parent. So I let him go.'

He paused, taking a breath. ‘But it was a wrench, being so far away from him. I flew up every second weekend, but we had to stay in motels, it wasn't ideal. Anyway, long story short, I ended up taking a job on an oil rig so I could work for blocks of time and then get weeks off at a time. Trace was really happy for me to have him because she was working, but I think she also wanted to spend time with her new bloke, which was fair enough too. I had Josh every school holidays, and I took him all over Australia. We had a pretty great time.'

‘Sounds like you made it up to him.'

‘I guess,' said Finn. ‘When he got into his senior years, we had to pull back a bit, only one big trip a year. And he started to get his own life as well, wanted to hang out with his mates in the holidays.'

‘Are you close to him now?'

‘Yeah, I think so. I hope so,' said Finn. ‘We had a lot of fun, and did a lot together, but you know, I still missed having breakfast with him in the morning before school, weekends making him do his chores, just being a regular dad.' He looked at her. ‘That's what I started out saying – try not to compare yourself to your ex, think of yourself as lucky that you get to be with them so much more.'

‘See the glass as half-f,' Ellen nodded. She looked at her own glass then. ‘Which you can't do when it's empty. Maybe I will have some of that red after all.'

Ellen stirred, rolling over onto her back. What day was it? Then she felt movement in the bed next to her. She opened her eyes. The room was dim, the blinds and curtains drawn, the door shut.

‘Hi.'

Ellen slowly turned her head to see Finn, waking up beside her.

Scenes from last night flittered across her brain like a film montage, but the last thing she remembered they were sitting on the sofa together. How did they get here?

‘Did we . . .?'

‘It was that memorable you have to ask?' Finn said, his voice all husky from sleep.

Shit. Ellen really couldn't remember. But she was still dressed under these covers. Well, mostly dressed. No jeans, but everything else was in place, even her bra. Surely they hadn't . . .?

‘We didn't,' Finn was saying.

Ellen turned over onto her side to face him. ‘What happened?'

‘You shouldn't have started on the red wine,' he murmured. ‘You said it would make you sleepy.'

‘So I fell asleep. Not in the middle of things, I hope?'

He shook his head. ‘No, we didn't even get started.'

‘Exciting night for you then.'

He smiled, rolling onto his side now, facing her.

‘Why did you stay?' Ellen asked him.

‘You asked me to. When you started to nod off, I tried to get you to go to bed, but you were determined to go through with it. That's what you kept saying. And you started trying to get your jeans off, but you couldn't quite manage, and then you kind of passed out on the bed, with your jeans around your knees.'

She pulled a face. ‘That would have been a good look.'

‘It wasn't bad,' he smiled sleepily. ‘Anyway, I tucked you in, but you hung onto me and asked me not to go. I thought I'd just stay till you were sound asleep . . . and that's the last thought I remember having. Except for when I got cold sometime through the night and climbed in under the covers.'

Ellen shifted, and her leg brushed against his. ‘And took off your jeans?'

‘Bit uncomfortable to sleep in.'

Ellen stifled a yawn. ‘Well, thank you.'

‘What for?'

‘For coming and for staying.'

‘Thanks for inviting me.'

Her face was close to his. He looked all ruffled and sleepy, and quite adorable. Ellen brought her hand up from under the covers to smooth his hair, and then she couldn't recall what happened next; was it his leg that slid across hers, or the other way round? His arm came around her pulling her in close while they kissed, but who kissed who first? Hard to say. It was as though their bodies moved by instinct, coiling around each other, their remaining clothes slithering off of their own accord, till Ellen heard herself moaning as she felt his skin against hers, then his mouth, his tongue . . . She was breathing faster, her heart was racing, and as he pushed up inside her she was completely overwhelmed. She couldn't think straight any more, she couldn't think at all, she was all nerve endings, wired, intoxicated. Was it him thrusting, or was she doing that, and did he bring her up on top of him, or was it her, pushing him over, straddling him as she rocked harder and harder against him till she almost blacked out.

Ellen fell back onto the bed, gasping for breath, stunned. What the hell just happened? She could hear Finn breathing just as hard. She turned her head to look at him, and he turned to look at her. He seemed a bit stunned as well.

The phone rang.

‘Oh shit,' she breathed.

‘Leave it.'

‘I can't . . . the kids.'

‘Oh, yeah.'

Ellen reached for the phone on the bedside table as she dragged herself up to sit.

‘So, how did it go?'

What? It was Emma, was she psychic or something?

‘Um –'

‘Were you fabulous? I bet you were!'

Ellen's heart was pounding as she tried to catch her breath and collect her thoughts.

‘Are you okay? Did you have to run for the phone?' Emma asked.