Page 117 of Shards of You and Me


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Annie

‘You bought a phone,’ Bridget says when she walks into the kitchen. She flicks the kettle on, then turns to watch me slipping the back of it in place after having wrestled the SIM card in. ‘That’s very modern of you.’

She doesn’t know the reason why I got it, because that reason is Hunter. It’s been three days since I phoned him drunk, and I’m trying not to read too much into the fact that he hasn’t called me back despite the multiple voicemails I left on his phone. ‘Have you heard from Hunter by any chance?’

‘No. Why?’

‘I’ve tried calling a few times. He’s probably busy—or hates me.’

‘He doesn’t hate you.’ She crosses her arms and tilts her head, regarding me. ‘Is that why you bought the phone?’

‘No.’ The pitch of my voice is too high. I clear my throat and hold the phone out to her. ‘Do you want to put your number in and be my first official contact?’

She takes it from me, thumbs moving over the buttons. Then she pulls her mobile phone from her pocket. ‘I’ll put Hunter and Dad in too.’

‘Didn’t think you spoke to Dad.’

‘I don’t, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.’ I have questions about that, but I don’t want her to shut down the conversation.

I pull my purse from my bag and wander over to the sofa, adding Tamsin’s number, work, and James’s mobile. Opening a fresh text message, I think hard about what I want to say to Hunter since speaking on the phone is apparently not an option.

Annie: Hey, it’s Annie. Sorry about the other night. Oh, and I got a mobile phone. In case you want to save my number.

I delete the message and type something else. Then I delete that and stare at the blinking cursor.

‘Just call him,’ Bridget says from the kitchen. ‘He won’t know it’s you, and if he answers, then you’ll know he’s been avoiding you.’

‘And what do I say if it turns out that he was avoiding me?’

She pours boiling water into the plunger. ‘That guy moved to Brisbane on the slight chance you would one day. He’s not going to be that easily deterred.’

I dial his number. It goes to voicemail, and I panic.

‘Hi.’ I look at my sister, and she gestures for me to keep going. ‘I got a new phone, and I’m calling from it.’ I press my palm to my forehead. ‘And now you have my number.’ I drop my hand to my lap and look at the ceiling. ‘In case you didn’t get my other voicemails, I need to talk to you.’ I give my sister an exasperated look, and she signals for me to wrap it up. ‘Give me a call back on this number. Only if you want to.’ I press my eyes shut. ‘It’s Annie, by the way.’ I end the call and drop the device onto the sofa.

Bridget’s laughing in the kitchen. Laughing. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh since I got here. The embarrassment was worth it for that reason alone.

‘Smooth,’ she says.

I drop my face to the cushion and groan into it.

Our work Christmas party is on a Friday. James has closed the tavern and organised an afternoon of lawn bowling at a nearby club. It’s stormy and so humid that even the locals are complaining, but everyone’s in good spirits because the beer’s cold and our shoes are off.

I’m seated with Mandy at one of the outdoor tables in the shade, a pot of beer warming in my hand. I drink slowly because I haven’t really recovered from Tuesday’s festival of sangria.

James looks in my direction, declines the next game, then comes to sit beside me. Mandy goes to take his place.

‘That the same beer I brought you earlier?’ he asks.

I look down at it. ‘Is three days the normal amount of time for a hangover?’

‘It is when you get to my age. You should be bouncing back after a hot shower and a greasy breakfast.’

‘I didn’t know about the greasy breakfast. That’s clearly where I went wrong.’

He grins. ‘There’s always next time.’ His gaze falls to my phone on the table beside me. ‘Expecting a call? You’ve been checking that thing every five minutes since we arrived.’

That’s embarrassingly true. I haven’t heard a word from Hunter since Tuesday night, and I’ve been over and over the things I think I said and can’t pinpoint anything that would provoke such a drastic reaction. If he’s angry at me or over me, I’m sure he’d tell me as much.

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