Pictures of Lily

she’s put on weight. That’s good. Let’s get the scales out.’
    ‘Lily?’ Ben points to the cupboard. I take out the scales and place them on the worktop, turning around to see Ben gently lifting Olivia. I can’t help it; my heart melts. He glances up to meet my eyes and I find I can’t look away.
    ‘That’s right, pop her in there,’ Dave prompts, and our eyes dart away from each other simultaneously. I avoid looking at Ben again for the rest of the meeting.
    I take my lunch outside that day, even though it’s 36 degrees and the staffroom is beautifully cool. Wandering down the slope from the café, I sit on the grass under the shade of an enormous eucalyptus. I stare up at the sun through the leaves. The brightness pierces my eyes painfully and I have to look away. Grey, lifeless bark peels off the tree trunk in front of me in strips. It looks as if someone has taken a cheese grater to it and it’s eerily beautiful, almost ghostly. I don’t feel like eating; I haven’t felt like eating for days. My stomach hasn’t stopped churning. I hug my knees to my chest and try to find some comfort in the gesture.
    He’s too old for you.
    He would never let himself fall in love with you.
    Ever.
    A pair of red and blue rosellas fly up and land in the branches of the tree. They distract me from the sound of Ben’s footsteps.
    ‘Are you avoiding me?’ he asks, as I almost leap out of my skin at the sight of him. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.’ He smiles and collapses on the ground beside me. He leans back on the slope, the crispy, brown gum leaves crunching underneath his elbows as he props himself up.
    ‘Well – are you?’ He glances across at me, a twinkle in the depth of his blue eyes.
    ‘Am I what?’ I manage to ask; it feels as if the temperature has soared way past forty and is still climbing.
    ‘Avoiding me,’ he repeats.
    ‘Why would I be avoiding you?’
    ‘Now you’re avoiding the question.’
    ‘That’s the only thing I’m avoiding.’
    ‘Okay,’ he replies bluntly. ‘Glad we got that sorted.’
    We both fall silent and he stares ahead, as do I.
    ‘Where’s your lunch?’ I ask after a while, because the quietness is killing me.
    ‘I ate it at eleven o’clock.’ At least someone’s still got their appetite. ‘You should take a photo of that.’ He gestures at the tree bark. ‘It looks like something you’d take a photo of.’
    ‘Maybe I already have,’ I reply childishly.
    ‘Have you?’ He raises one eyebrow at me.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Do you want me to go and get your camera for you?’
    My lips twitch at the corners. ‘Would you? In this heat?’
    ‘Sure.’ He starts to get to his feet.
    ‘No, no.’ I instinctively reach for his wrist to pull him back down. ‘I’m joking,’ I add weakly. ‘I’ll take a photo another time.’
    ‘Okay.’ He leans back on his elbows again. I feel like the electrical charge between us has been turned up a notch, but I don’t edge away. All of my nerve-endings are bolt upright.
    ‘Why are you angry with me?’ he asks gently.
    ‘I’m not angry with you.’ But there’s no conviction to my voice.
    ‘Yes, you are.’ Pause. ‘I can take it,’ he adds.
    I sigh loudly. ‘Did Michael ask you to take me for some driving lessons?’
    ‘No!’ His reply is indignant.
    ‘Did he ask you to show me around?’
    ‘No! Is that what this is about?’
    I shrug, feeling more and more foolish with every word that comes out of my mouth. ‘I don’t know,’ I mutter.
    He sits up and leans his elbows on his knees. ‘Lily, I like you.’ What? ‘You’re a mate.’ Oh. ‘I’m not being nice to you as some favour to a colleague.’
    ‘Okay,’ I reply lamely.
    ‘What are you up to tonight?’ He changes the subject.
    ‘Going out with Josh.’ I like being able to reply to this question for two reasons. One, I’m relieved I have plans for a change, and two, I know this answer will annoy Ben. I take a strange sense of pleasure from that.
    ‘Oh, right.’
    Yep, he’s pissed off. Good.
    ‘Where are you going?’ he asks.
    ‘Stirling.’
    ‘Doesn’t that guy ever go anywhere else?’
    Of course he does, and Ben knows it as well as I do. But I don’t want to push it any further.
    ‘What about you?’ I ask instead.
    ‘Another night in front of the telly, I imagine.’
    ‘Don’t party too hard,’ I say meanly, and regret it when he abruptly gets up. ‘You off?’
    ‘Lunchtime’s over,’ he says coolly, holding down