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“Not to me,” Zora said.
Hayden gave an exaggerated sigh, because he needed to perk up here and be entertaining, not think about a rugby player who’d barely looked at him. Again—less pathetic yearning, more sparkle. “Not to me, either. One can only dream. Not about Marko,” he told Nyree, “so no worries. I’m not attracted to people to whom I’m not attractive, and probably vice versa, if I could work out the implications amidst the paint fumes. I should print that first part on a T-shirt, though. It’d save so much explaining. I’m saying it out loud, since we’re discussing the subject. Now hear this. I don’t want your man—that’s for you and Zora, Nyree—and if you are a man, I almost certainly don’t want you. I’m more selective than that, thank you very much.”
There. That should do it. He could be attracted. That didn’t mean he was putting himself out there to be rejected again.
“What’s wrong with cured meats?” Tom asked.
“Risk of listeria,” Nyree said. “Ask Marko for the full list of things I’m meant to eat and not eat, and he’ll tell you. He gets a bit boring about it, in fact. Folate, beta-carotene, Omega-3 fatty acids, protein grams, choline … I didn’t know choline existed, much less that it was a thing.”
“It’s in eggs,” Luke said.
“I know,” she said. “How do you know?”
He shrugged. “I have to know. I have to stay big, but fit. It’s my job.”
“Oh,” Nyree said. “Well, obviously. You do a good job at it, though. Staying big.”
“Yes,” Hayden said. “You do.” Which he shouldn’t have said, but—no. He was being insouciant. That was a French word. It meant, “Showing a casual lack of concern.” Which was perfect in all ways.
Kane said, “I’ll pass on pizza. I have a date.”
Hayden waited to hear Luke say he was leaving, too, but he didn’t, so he couldn’t feel too uncomfortable, could he? Of course, he was here for Nyree, and she’d made it clear she wanted him, so that was good. And as there was nobody kinder than Zora, that was good, too. Coming out wasn’t easy, and she knew it.
When they’d washed up and gone downstairs onto the deck, overlooking about a hectare of green fern trees and palms and the calm blue waters of Manukau Harbour far below, and were letting the warm breeze take away the stiffness and the smell of paint, Nyree said, “This is a very good house. Like you’re out in the bush, but comfortable. A bit different from Paris, Luke. Feels so much more … remote.”
“True,” he said. “But you’re right. Comfortable.”
“Do you have a house in Paris?” Rhys’s daughter Casey—the bunny-lover—asked. “Like in Madeline? Is it covered with vines?”
“It’s a book,” Rhys said when Luke looked confused.
“I have a flat in Paris, yeh,” Luke said. “That’s where I live. No vines, though.”
“Because he plays for Racing 92,” Zora’s son Isaiah told his cousin. “I told you.”
“You said France,” she said. “Paris isn’t France.”
“Yes, it is. Paris is the capital of France.” He sighed. “It’s good that you’re going to be in Year Three next year. You need to learn more things.”
“Oh,” she said. “I thought Paris was very fancy, though.” She looked at Luke doubtfully, and he smiled.
Oh, no. He was every daddy fantasy Hayden had ever had, and he was kind? He should have said no to pizza. His waistline did not need pizza. He also didn’t need to do any more yearning.
“It is,” Nyree said. “Paris is magical, even in the rain. Especially in the rain. There’s no place in the world that looks better in gray than Paris. The buildings are colored cream, the silvery light glistens off the river in a way that makes your heart heal, and the streets are made of stone.”
“Well, some are,” Luke said.
“Luke’s flat doesn’t look one bit like you might think, either,” Nyree went on, ignoring him. “The front doors of the building are arched and painted blue, and the stone above them is arched, too. Luke’s flat is at the very top, up five flights of very old stairs, and the wood of the banisters and the red stone tiles on the landings have been rubbed smooth by hundreds of hands and feet over hundreds of years. Imagine all those people with their secrets and their joys, going up and down those stairs, living their lives.”
Casey had stopped eating and was staring at Nyree in awe. “Inside,” Nyree went on, “there are huge, dark oak beams going across the ceiling all through the main room. Six of them, with nicks on them from where somebody shaped them a long time ago, and white plaster between them, and shiny wood floors that have been walked on and polished and loved, over and over again, that look like a craftsman did them who lived only to make beautiful floors, because he laid out the wood in the shape of fish bones. There’s a kitchen with black-and-white tiles on the floor, set like diamonds instead of a draughts board, just because it’s more beautiful, and a tiny black-iron-railed balcony off the dining room that you get to through a pair of French doors with curved tops and curving black metal handles. The glass between the panes is wavy and thick, because it’s so old, and it makes everything outside look a bit wavy, too, like a painting. There’s just enough room out there for a little round table and two chairs, and there’s a perfect view across the tiled roofs of more cream-colored buildings where more people have lived for hundreds of years, and between them, you can see the branches of trees in a tiny park. In the summer, the swallows fly over the roofs. Their wings are a dark blue, bright as jewels, and pointed at the ends, and so are their tails, and they swoop and dive like …”
“Like fairies?” Casey asked.
“Exactly like fairies,” Nyree said, and Hayden could practically see the swallows getting painted onto that wall. She had, what, two days to finish this mural, and she was still adding things on?
Elite rugby players were some of the most disciplined people on the planet, and Nyree’s stepfather was a rugby coach. She was marrying an elite rugby player, too. None of it seemed to have influenced her much.
“You’ve seen my flat once,” Luke said. “When you tear a ligament in your knee, the stairs aren’t quite as nice, the kitchen’s pretty small and the bath is smaller, and you have to duck through a doorway to get to it or you hit your head. You have to stand in exactly the right place to see the park, and some people would say that it doesn’t have storage space. But I like it all the same.”
