Page 37
Story: Meet Me in Berlin
Nat stares at me, wide-eyed, until she finishes chewing. ‘You really are unhappy.’
An emptiness unrolls in my chest. ‘Yesterday afternoon was the best I’d felt in a long time. I spent hours walking around the city, finding the most interesting things to photograph. I was so focused that I didn’t even think about losing my job. It reminded me how much I loved taking photos when I travelled. Then on the walk home, it hit me that I could travel again, if I wanted to.’
‘You walked all the way to Hawthorn from the city? It was freezing yesterday.’
‘I needed the thinking time. I can’t breathe here, Nat. I don’t think I can be with Tom anymore. I can’t look after his child, and it’s breaking me to watch Mum deteriorate. My whole twenties were spent helping to look after Dad until he died, then Mum, and then that horrible break-up with Lily. Now I have to look after Tom and Jack?’ I shake my head. ‘I’m thirty-one and I feel like I’m fifty-one.’
Nat gives a sad smile. ‘Then you have to do it.’
I feel a swell of gratitude that she gets where I’m coming from. ‘You think so?’
She nods. ‘I hate the thought of you not being here, but if you don’t go, you’ll always think about it, and you’ll become more resentful.’
‘But Mum … I worry about leaving her.’
She gives my hand a squeeze. ‘She might be like this for years yet. And you can’t sit around and wait for her to completely go. Maybe talk to Adam and see what he thinks?’
‘He’ll tell me to go.’
She releases my hand and picks up her glass. ‘Well, then. It’s decided. So, where will you start?’
I drink the last of my wine and splash in some more, then top up Nat’s. ‘Germany, maybe. I’d like to go back to Berlin.’
Nat’s eyes widen. ‘Berlin? Oh, you mean an open ticket overseas? I thought you meant to Perth or something.’
‘Nope, Europe. I’ve been a few times, but there’s so much to see and capture on film.’
Nat narrows her eyes suspiciously. ‘I remember you telling me once about a Berlin fling when you were there for uni. Are you still in touch with her?’
Heat rises in my cheeks. ‘No. I never saw her again.’ What I don’t say is that experience affected me in ways I can’t explain, and I need closure if I’m going to get on with my life and find someone to be truly happy with. ‘But she hurt me badly,’ I continue. ‘And I couldn’t enjoy Berlin after that. I want to create new memories and enjoy the city again. Kind of reclaim it, you know?’ I shrug. ‘Then I’ll go somewhere else. Vienna. Paris. London, visit Aunty Carol and my cousins. Might even go to Wales to see some of Dad’s relatives.’
‘Then go. It might help you put things in perspective.’
‘Thanks, Nat.’ I survey the bar crowd, suddenly remembering why I’m here. ‘Oh, shit.’ I grab my camera. ‘I’m getting paid to take photos. Back soon.’
Just as I stand, Caleb appears and puts another bottle of wine on the table for us.
‘Another one!’ Nat says. ‘Someone is going to have to carry me out of here.’
Caleb points to a buff bloke behind the bar. ‘Have you seen the muscles on my hubby? He could carry both of you at the same time.’
Nat laughs and tops up our glasses. ‘In that case…’
‘I’ve got some great shots so far, Caleb,’ I say, flicking through the images.
He grins as he looks at the monitor. ‘I knew you were the right choice.’ He gives me a wink and heads back behind the bar.
The woman from earlier watches me as I move into the crowd. I hold her gaze and lift my camera. She stares down the barrel of the lens, her mouth forming into a sexy half-smile, and I shift to the right so that the low light above falls across her face in a soft shadow. I press the shutter several times and walk away, not trusting myself to speak to her when I feel a longing in my soul and a fire between my legs.
I pull three plates from the cupboard and clatter them down onto the benchtop.
‘I can’t find my work shirt,’ Tom calls from the hallway.
‘Look in the laundry,’ I shout back, pulling the frying pan off the hotplate.
‘Not in there,’ he yells.
I toss the steak onto the plates. ‘I’m busy here, Tom!’
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37 (Reading here)
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128