Pictures of Lily

family with him?
    Maybe it’s a sign, a small voice inside my head says. Maybe it’s time to let him go.
    No. No. I’ll never let him go.
    Tina is gorgeous and personable and I urge Josh not to let her get away as he climbs back into the willow-green Jaguar convertible that he’s supposedly test driving.
    ‘I know.’ He smiles contentedly. ‘I’m beginning to come round to your way of thinking.’
    ‘Really?’ I squeak, so full of excitement that I momentarily block out the image of the curly-haired woman that has been plaguing me. ‘Do you think you’ll put a ring on her finger?’
    ‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘I’ll keep you posted.’
    I give him a massive hug and let him climb into the car.
    ‘Don’t crash it,’ I warn. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually allowed to drive this thing out of the garage.’
    ‘What they don’t know won’t hurt them.’
    ‘Josh!’
    He laughs. ‘I’m joking. The owner is a friend of mine. He even trusts me to look after his children.’
    ‘You babysit his children?’ I’m astounded.
    ‘Well, it’s more Tina’s thing, if I’m being honest.’
    ‘That sounds more like it. See you tomorrow?’
    ‘I’ll be there.’ He’s a pallbearer at the funeral.
    Richard and I climb back into the car. ‘Where next?’ he asks. ‘Back to the hotel to check in,’ I say firmly. ‘I want to get ready for tonight.’
    ‘Fair enough,’ he concedes.
    That night, after dinner with my friends, I walk out onto the small hotel balcony while Richard heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I stare up at the sky and see a full moon, yellow and enormous, like the one I saw years ago with Ben at Mount Lofty. Here the sky is lit from the lights of the city, but up in the hills I know it would be matt black and full of twinkling stars.
    A single tear slides down my cheek and underneath my shirt.
    ‘Hey,’ Richard says quietly. I don’t turn to look at him. ‘Bathroom’s free.’
    ‘Thanks,’ I choke out.
    ‘Are you okay?’
    I nod, unable to speak.
    ‘I wish you’d tell me what’s going through your mind,’ he says.
    ‘Nothing is,’ I lie.
    He tries again. ‘You haven’t been yourself here. At least, you haven’t been the Lily I know.’
    ‘Why do you keep saying that?’ I suddenly snap, but when I turn to look at him, his expression immediately calms my mood. ‘I’m sorry,’ I sigh. ‘It is strange to come back here.’
    ‘I thought you loved Adelaide. You always defend it when anyone says anything negative about it.’
    ‘Those people don’t know what they’re talking about,’ I say crossly.
    ‘See?’ He smiles. ‘I know you’re fond of this place, so why does it make you so sad?’
    ‘I don’t know. Maybe I’m just freaked out about the funeral tomorrow. I’ve never been to one before, you know.’
    ‘Oh, right,’ he says.
    I could leave it at that, but when I look in his eyes, I can’t. I try to explain how I feel. ‘I guess it was such an up and down time for me, being uprooted from the UK, starting at a new school. But I found my feet here and then Mum broke it off with Michael and we had to leave.’
    ‘But you could have stayed?’ he enquires.
    I manage a wry smile. ‘Do you wish I had?’
    He chuckles and opens up his arms. I step into them and he kisses the top of my head. ‘Of course I don’t.’
    I relax into his embrace and begin to feel safe again. Eventually I pull away and look up at him. ‘Thank you for coming with me.’
    ‘Do you mean that?’ I nod as a lump forms in my throat. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer to come back on your own,’ he adds.
    ‘No,’ I say honestly. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
    But in the morning, there’s something I need to do alone.
    As soon as the light starts to creep under the blinds I leave Richard dozing in bed and walk out of the hotel and down Rundle Street towards East Terrace. I take a left and I’m soon passing through the wrought-iron gates of the Botanic Gardens. On autopilot I head along the wide, straight path lined with freshly mown grass and turn right by the towering palm trees. The path curves left and then I’m passing under shady trees and sitting down on a bench. The place is empty. Deserted.
    The reeds around the edge of the pond have grown so tall that I can barely see the large green lily pads from where I’m sitting. There are no pink flowers at this time of year, but Cupid sits still in the centre of the water, riding on the back of a grey swan.