Back in Docklands
BACK IN DOCKLANDS
Christie stood at the window in her hotel room, one hand on the glass, as she peered down to dark water lapping against timber walkways. Leisure craft dotted the man-made bay. City lights flickered on beyond Etihad Stadium and, from here, Christie saw the apartment she’d lived in until late last year.
No lights shone there. Derek would not be home for hours, if his usual routine still stood. She’d spent three years of her life there – two of them with him. Her furniture, homewares, all her special touches remained, abandoned when she’d left.
The palm of her hand was cold on the glass. She stepped back, rubbing it. Why did this matter? These past months were without doubt the best of her life, and in a few days she’d be home again.
Familiar city sounds woke Christie before dawn. Trains in the distance. Traffic. The boats. A siren. She watched the sky lighten from her bed. Her view at home was to the same sky but through old trees.
Less than an hour later, pulling her make-up case along behind, she hurried through the almost deserted shopping precinct of Harbour Town. Resisting the aroma of freshly ground coffee wafting from the cafes, she turned a corner and there it was: Docklands Studios. She might have worked on sets in Hollywood and around the world, but here, on the doorstep of Melbourne city, was her favourite.
Three days in, Ashley dropped by as the crew packed up for the night. Christie gave him a weary smile and he wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. “Time for you to get out of here.”
“I wish.”
“Delays?”
Christie closed her make-up case with a nod. Ashley took it from her. “I’ll lock this up. You go change into something and we’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“Oh, I can’t.” She giggled as Ashley shook his head. “I mean—”
“One hour. Stop arguing. You don’t want to upset Ray, now do you?”
“He’d understand.”
“He would blame me.”
She gave in. Dinner with old friends would lift her spirits. Just as long as they stayed away from Derek’s favourite haunts. No point complicating matters.
Ray and Ashley wasted no time in escorting Christie right where she didn’t want to go. Beneath an almost full moon, the three of them followed the walkway along the marina. Water splashed against concrete pylons to their right, whilst traffic zoomed past on their left.
Ashley chatted about a film he was overseeing, oblivious to Christie’s eyes darting at everyone they approached. Ray noticed, tucking her arm through his. “I saw him get into a taxi.” He patted her hand and she shot a look at him. “Think he was off to some event or other. He has no idea you’re in town.”
Her mouth flickered into a small smile. “You always understand.”
“Understand what?” Ashley realised he was being ignored.
“That an overworked, hungry woman needs food, not a recital of your film credits. As if she doesn’t have enough of her own!”
Ashley took her other arm, not the least offended by Ray. “One can never have enough. However, I agree we should feed her before she wastes away.”
“Thanks. I’m unlikely to waste away, but I am thirsty.” She prodded them both.
After a glass of white wine and shared entrée of olives, dips and bread twists, Christie breathed a happy sigh. The boys were embroiled in a debate over some place they’d visited years ago.
“What’s so funny?” Ray held his hand up to pause Ashley mid-sentence.
“Don’t let me stop you. I’m happy to be entertained.” Christie said.
“It isn’t important.” Ray replied.
“Oh, really?” Ashley refilled Christie’s wine glass.
“I won the argument, and want to hear about Christie now, not you.” The main course arrived. “So, last I heard, you were at a wedding.” Ray prompted.
“Surely we’ve spoken since?”
“Seems the phone lines between here and your little town only work on occasion.”
“I’m sorry. You need to visit. Just not until the cottage is finished.”
“Finished?”
“I’m trying to return it to its original condition, but with some improvements. You know, a real washing machine and perhaps even a phone line.”
“So, you’re really going to live there.” The men exchanged a glance.
“I do live there.” Christie toasted the air with her wine glass. “To my funny little cottage on a lonely little road in a tiny little town.”
“And how is life with your new man?”
A stunned silence followed Ashley’s question. Ray kicked him under the table.
“Okay. How do you know about Martin?”
“We’re your friends, sweetie. You can share anything with us.”
“Ashley?”
“Derek told him. And it is none of our business. Right, Ash?” Ray said.
“I don’t mind you knowing. In fact, I can’t wait till you meet him, but when did Derek tell you?”
Ray shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “A day or two after you moved out, he knocked on the door. Upset. Said you’d left him for an artist you met at your nanna’s funeral. Wanted some support but after what he did—ouch!”
This time Ashley kicked Ray.
Christie looked from one to the other. “You heard? The night I left him? I am so, so sorry.”
“He was yelling at you. We were coming over when he slammed the front door on the way out. I hoped he would never return!” Ray’s face was bright red and his hands clenched into a fist. Ashley dropped an arm around him.
Christie curled her fingers around Ray’s hand. “I should have told you both. He and his business partner sabotaged my job in London, which was just the final straw really and I don’t want to rehash it. But I never left him for another man.”
“It didn’t make sense. After that dinner at your place, with Ingrid flirting with Derek right in front of us. Aargh.” Ray leaned his head against Ashley’s shoulder for a moment, eyes closed. Christie squeezed his hand as tightly as she could.
“It’s okay. I’m over him. Over them. They want the land the cottage is on because another developer is buying up anything available. It really is just some game to them.”
Ray’s eyes opened. “I wish it was him gone. Not you.”
What should have been a pleasant stroll to the hotel turned into a sprint with a sudden downpour catching them halfway back. Christie abandoned her dignity and slipped her heels off. Arms linked and laughing, the three found cover.
Ray fiddled with Christie’s wet hair as they waited, smoothing it back into place. “Beautiful! Now, Ash, how about we sneak into the studios and do some glamour shots?”
“Funny man! There will be no images taken of me looking like this, thanks all the same.”
“Surely your Martin would love to see you at your best?” Ray stood back with his hands in a square, peering through them like a camera.
“He’s seen me at my worst so anything is an improvement. But no.”
“And what was your worst?”
Ray slipped his phone out as Christie checked herself in the window, wrinkling her nose at her reflection. She spun around as Ray took her picture.
“Ashley, please tell Ray, no!”
“Ray, no.” Ashley picked up Christie’s shoes as the rain slowed. “I imagine you’d like these, bella.”
“Thanks.”
She mock-glared at Ray, who grinned and took another shot. “Not nice!”
“Not like you have Facebook for me to plaster it all over. Goodness knows why not though.”
“You sound like Belinda.” Heels back on, Christie stepped out onto the walkway.
“And who is Belinda?” Ray offered his arm to Christie, who pretended not to see it.
“Belinda Crossman, from Rivers End Bakery. She is the sweetest kid ever. Actually, in a couple of weeks she’ll be starting beauty school here, so I’ll have a reason to visit.”
“A reason to visit? Oh, and we’re chopped liver?” Ray feigned offence.
Christie held her hand out to Ashley, who smirked at Ray as he slipped it though his arm. “No, dear. You’re the chopped liver.”
Ray darted to Christie’s other side. “Ah, I see what you’re doing. Excellent distraction. Now, you never did tell us about being at your worst.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“So?”
“So, there’s my hotel.”
“Shall we come up for a drink and you can fill us in?” Ray persisted. Christie stopped and threw her arms around him.
“I love you.”
He squeezed her back. “Not even one drink?”
“Not even one!”
With a laugh, she shooed them back to their own building. Her smile faded.
I’ll miss you so much.
Her life was split in two
Outside her hotel, Christie stopped to squeeze rain from her hair.
A taxi drove past, abruptly stopping at the curb a few metres further along. Christie glanced across at the movement, but nobody got out.
She’d had enough of the rain and wanted a quick hot shower, another glass of wine, and a long conversation with Martin.
The moment Christie entered the hotel, the passenger door opened. A deluge began, soaking the man who stood on the pavement even after the taxi drove away. Derek Hobbs stared at the hotel. Through the window, he saw Christie head for the elevators.
She was out of sight. Derek hurried to the windows, darting from one to another until he saw her again. She stepped into the elevator and glanced his way after pressing the button. He froze. The doors closed and Christie was gone. Again.