Pictures of Lily

head.
    ‘I never went back to the conservation park after you left,’ I tell him.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘You know?’ I glance up at him, surprised.
    ‘Dave told me. I was sorry to hear it.’
    I say nothing.
    ‘You were so good with the koalas. It takes a certain sort of person to be able to deal with them. Not everyone has the right temperament.’
    Janine had said the same thing. ‘I missed it,’ I admit sadly. ‘I cried and cried when I heard they’d relocated Olivia to another conservation park and I never got to say goodbye.’
    He nods sympathetically. ‘It’s tough when that happens.’
    ‘I know it’s part of the job . . .’
    ‘. . . but that doesn’t make it any easier.’ He leans back in his chair and regards me. ‘I am sad you gave up on photography. I really thought you had something.’
    I shift in my seat. ‘It’s hard to get into that line of work.’
    ‘That’s not an excuse if you’re still passionate about it. Are you?’
    I meet his gaze. ‘Maybe.’ Pause. ‘I actually went to a photography exhibition not that long ago.’
    ‘Did you?’
    ‘The guy was an arsehole.’
    Ben chuckles.
    ‘It’s so odd to bump into you now, because I did get my camera back from Mum’s recently. I have started taking pictures again.’
    ‘Really?’ He sits up with interest. ‘Can I see them sometime?’
    I smile. ‘Sure. If they’re not too horrendous. I haven’t got any developed yet.’
    ‘Are you still using film?’
    ‘Yes. I know, digital cameras have improved like you said they would, but I’ve only just got back into it all.’
    Ben grins and the waitress appears with some menus.
    ‘Do you want dessert?’ he asks me.
    ‘No, I couldn’t eat another thing.’
    ‘Just the bill, thanks,’ he tells the waitress. We fall silent. ‘It’s good to see you again,’ he says after a while.
    I look up at him. ‘You, too.’
    ‘Are you very busy while your family are here?’
    ‘I can get away. Monday’s your day off, right?’
    ‘Yeah. You still want to catch up for lunch or something?’
    ‘That’d be good.’
    The bill arrives and Ben reaches into his pocket for his wallet while I take my purse from my handbag.
    ‘I’ll get this,’ he tells me.
    ‘We’ll go halves.’
    ‘Lily, put it away,’ he says firmly.
    I hesitate. ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Of course.’ He looks offended so I comply.
    ‘Thanks.’
    Marco sees us out. ‘Come again, please!’
    ‘We will,’ Ben tells him.
    We ? A bubble of happiness swells up inside me.
    Richard!
    ‘Ferry back to Manly?’ Ben checks.
    ‘Yes. Do you go to Old Cremorne?’
    ‘Cremorne Point.’ That means we have to take separate ferries. ‘We can walk together to the terminal.’
    He sets off at a brisk pace and once more I hurry to keep up.
    ‘Sorry, am I walking too fast?’ He glances at me.
    ‘No, it’s okay. I’ve got my trainers on for a change.’
    ‘You still call them trainers.’
    ‘ Sneakers , then,’ I smirk. ‘I’m pretty nifty in my heels, too. I don’t usually look like this,’ I add.
    He gives me a quick once-over. ‘What do you usually look like?’
    ‘Skirts, heels, make-up . . .’
    ‘You are wearing make-up,’ he comments.
    ‘I usually wear more.’ It strikes me that maybe he wishes I looked the same as I did ten years ago. He told me I looked different when we saw each other at the zoo. Is that a good thing?
    ‘I cut off all my hair,’ I blurt out. Dur! No shit, Sherlock .
    He smiles at me. ‘I noticed.’
    ‘Do you like it?’ Shut up, you moron!
    ‘Yeah.’ He shrugs. ‘I liked it long, too.’
    Don’t say anything else, I warn myself. Then: ‘Did you prefer it longer?’ Argh!
    He glances at me sideways. ‘You look as lovely as you ever did.’
    My heart flips and my face heats up. And with that I’m rendered speechless. We arrive at the terminal and he looks up at the timetable. ‘Quick, there’s one leaving for Manly in three minutes!’
    He rushes me to the barriers. Wait! This is all happening too fast.
    ‘I don’t have to catch this one,’ I cry. I stare at him, panicked, and he freezes for a moment.
    ‘Want me to come for the ride?’ he asks.
    ‘Yes!’
    We rush to the ticket booth and board the green-and-white ferry seconds before they raise the planks. He follows me to the back of the boat and we stand there in silence, side by side, as Circular Quay and the Opera House grow smaller in the distance. Finally I can breathe again. He’s still here. He’s