Perhaps.... Perhaps Page 5

  James was silent.

  ‘Was there something else?’

  He scuffed his toe on a loose pebble. ‘Um, no. Thanks Flora,’ he said, and disappeared back across the courts.

  That was odd, Flora thought as she continued through the gate and off towards home. Very odd.

  Chapter 8

  The white chocolate and mango muffins from Addiction Bakery were to die for. They had the type of sublime taste and creamy texture that could silence the entire staffroom on the Friday mornings Flora brought them to share.

  ‘God, I love you, Flora,’ beamed Louise, as she picked a choc dot from her muffin and held it up, admiring it, before placing it lovingly on her tongue. ‘I didn’t have enough cash to get my brioche and coffee from Dome this morning. I’m absolutely skint.’

  From the other corner of the table, PJ frowned. ‘Well, if you think I’m coughing up for rent again, you can think twice, Lou. I’ve got to get new sheets for Dylan this week. I was thinking maybe some of those nice 400 count from Bed Bath and Table?’

  Personally, Flora didn’t think Dylan was worthy of pillowcase from Big W but that was her opinion. ‘Isn’t that a bit excessive, I mean, it’s not like you’re engaged, you’re only moving in together.’

  ‘Probably, but what’s money for if you can’t spend it? Anyway, he likes nice things.’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ Louise muttered into her muffin. There was many a time she’d wished her flatmate would buy her something from Bed Bath and Table or at least pay the balance of her credit card for her birthday.

  Flora smiled and went back to watching everyone enjoying the small pleasure she had provided. Even Miriam had deemed those muffins the perfect midmorning snack and was stuffing a whole one into her gob whilst wiping excess crumbs from her plum coloured lips.

  ‘Are you ever going to tell her that each muffin contains the equivalent of a kilo bag of sugar?’ whispered PJ, polishing off her last bite.

  ‘T.M.I, Peej. She’s content thinking they’re low fat. If Flora told her the God awful truth she’d have an aneurism.’

  Miriam was always going on about fat, carbs, sugar and diets not to mention the general lack of good men in the world. That sort of stuff. The girls were convinced it was her age. Being closer to forty than thirty and still no man on the horizon would be hard on anyone, let alone a woman who looked like Miriam. There was only so much an eighties power suit could hide.

  ‘Either that or she’ll put me on gate duty for the next year,’ Flora giggled, half serious. And the only thing worse than dealing with the pushy parents during the day was finding a way to fob them off at the gate. Some of those mothers were like piranhas. Very skinny, underfed piranhas that had nothing better to do with their time than obsess over their children.

  PJ leant over, pulling a paper napkin from the pile in the centre of the table, and dabbed the crumbs from the corner of her mouth. ‘So, Flower, what great plans do you have for the weekend? Grocery shopping? A spot of window cleaning, maybe?’

  Flora ignored the jibe. She knew PJ was having a go because of the Dylan comment. ‘I just got the new Cathy Kelly novel from my book club and I’ve my dance class tonight…..’

  ‘You’re truly not going back there are you? You suck at dancing.’

  ‘I most certainly am. I’ve already paid the term fees and anyway how am I supposed to improve if I don’t keep at it?’ There was also the small glimmer of expectation that Luke might be there. He thought she was sexy.

  ‘She’s only going to see Luke,’ mumbled Louise, her mouth full of muffin. ‘She’s hoping he might rumba her into the bedroom.’

  Flora looked at the tabletop. She did not hope that at all. She was going to learn how to dance and if Luke happened to be there, well…..

  ‘Speaking of Luke…’ PJ said, tilted her head at him at him along the length of the table. ‘He looks like shit.’

  Flora glanced over. PJ was right. Luke hadn’t seemed himself for the last few days, his frown was even tighter than usual and he’d almost snapped Miriam into next week as she fawned over him, offering a muffin.

  ‘He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since Monday, you know,’ PJ remarked, her voice low so as not to be heard. ‘Every time I see him, he’s staring at you.’

  Flora frowned. Luke had been staring an awful lot. But he didn’t appear to be happy that he was doing so.

  ‘I’d say he’s got a bad case of the love bug,’ PJ added, knowingly. Having had numerous torrid love affairs since the age of seventeen, she regarded herself as an expert on the symptoms of love.

  ‘Ohhh, that’s exactly what I told her!’ Louise reached across and clutched her friend’s forearm.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. He hasn’t spoken to me in three days.’

  ‘That’s because he spends all his time, lurking in corridors, trying to get you alone.’

  ‘Oh for Heaven’s sake, can you two give it up… there’s nothing between Luke and me.’ Flora turned back to her morning tea. There was no way she was going to admit she had been doing a good bit of skulking in corners and car parks herself. She was still trying to justify the absurd behaviour in her own mind. She simply couldn’t be infatuated with Luke. He was her boss. The concept went against everything she believed in.

  ‘What did he say in the meeting?’ PJ asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘He didn’t allude to your moonlit stroll?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Or the almost kiss?’

  ‘No.’ It wasn’t a lie. Luke hadn’t said anything about the kiss and Flora could feel her skin beginning to burn under her clothes at where this conversation was heading. She didn’t want to discuss her personal life; the details would be all over Perth before dinner.

  ‘Miriam had some work done on her eyes in the holidays…’ If there was one thing guaranteed to take the heat off her it was gossip about other staff members. Not that she was one to indulge, but drastic measures were called for.

  Louise’s eyes widened. ‘You’re kidding! I knew her eyebrows were higher! What was it? Thread lift? Chemical peel? Botox?’

  Flora smiled to herself, happy the deflection had worked. ‘Don’t know. There was mention of needles.’

  ‘I heard she wants a bit of what Luke’s got to offer,’ whispered PJ, her head close to the other girls.

  ‘When?’ It amazed Flora how PJ and Louise seemed to know everything that happened in the school even before it did.

  ‘I was in the cubicle at The Seoul Karaoke Bar last night and I heard gossiping at the hand basin, so I looked under the door. Recognised those bodacious stilettos she wears everywhere. She did a disastrous version of Sk8r Boi, by the way. Avril would’ve turned in her Doc Martens if she’d heard it.’

  They all stared at Miriam who was reaching across the table in front of Luke to give him a full view of her ample bosom. Her pretence of wanting a paper napkin was utterly pointless. They could see what she was up to.

  Louise shook her head in revulsion at the thought. ‘Luke and Miriam. Eeww! She is such a skank.’

  PJ laughed. ‘Babe, if she were any skankier she’d be bloody Britney Spears.’

  With five minutes of recess to go, PJ honed in on Flora again. ‘Did Luke ask to see you again?’

  ‘No.’

  PJ slid across in her chair. ‘Come on, Flower. You can tell us. We’re your friends, you don’t have to hide. I mean look at him, he’s all forlorn. Did you turn him down or something?’

  ‘I am not hiding anything. There is nothing to tell.’

  PJ’s voice was little more than a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Well, I have this feeling he’s hot for you. The only problem is that would be like pashing the Terminator in a roundabout sort of way.’

  ‘Well, you’ve no worries on that front,’ Flora said, shaking her head. ‘I couldn’t get with Luke. Not even if we were the last two remaining on the island in Survivor and it would guarantee me the million bucks.’ She sighed again and glanced down
the table towards Luke. He was staring at her. His brown eyes were bottomless. Well maybe then, she decided, yes most definitely then. But she’d just keep that to herself.

  ****

  Flora wandered the corridors for twenty minutes after school before she found Luke in Reception, his dark head bent over the photocopier, the strong lines of his jaw clenching. He was swearing to himself and still looking grumpy.

  ‘Need a hand with that?’ she asked, depositing her notice on the bench. She had looked everywhere for him to check the excursion note over so she could send it home the next day. The office had been her last resort.

  ‘Flora!’ Luke jumped and turned, letting out a huge sigh. ‘Thank heavens it’s you. Do you know anything about photocopiers? June showed me how to work this thing but I think I’ve jammed it.’

  Flora walked over to the machine. What she knew about technology wouldn’t fill a small notebook but she did know the nuances of this particular beast. ‘It’s a bit temperamental, especially on newsletter day,’ she said, smiling and looking to the buttons flashing on the display screen.

  Luke relaxed. ‘Can you fix it? I know I should know how, but June is so damn scary. I couldn’t concentrate on the instructions with her and Miriam looking over my shoulder. They make my head ache.’

  I can understand that, Flora thought. June scared the life out of her, too. She leant over, pressing some buttons on the screen. ‘June’s a teeny bit protective of her space. She’s worked here since Adam was a boy. Ah, here’s your problem….’ she pointed, as Luke looked on. His arm had snaked behind her, trapping her between his body and the photocopier. She could feel it brushing against her back.

  ‘Right.’

  His breath was hot at the side of her neck and as she toggled a button here and there, she quivered. She had to do something. What if someone saw them? She would never be able to explain her way out of it. He was leaning all over her. ‘Ah, I have to get the jam out of the machine now…’

  Ducking under his outstretched arm, Flora dived towards the safety of the front doors of the copier, pulling on Tray 3. ‘This one is always a bit sticky,’ she said, jiggling it. That wasn’t the only thing that was sticky. Her hands were beginning to feel as if someone had smothered them in wet, gooey jam.

  ‘Let me.’ Luke put his hand on hers and yanked. She could feel the softness of his palm as it covered her knuckles. Shivers chased each other up her arm and into her chest. What should she do? She couldn’t ask him to move his hand; it would sound like it was worrying to her, which it was, in a way she couldn’t explain.

  Peering into the machine, Flora attempted to hide the redness she could feel suffusing her cheeks. ‘Um…. I think this sheet is stuck too.’ She reached her arm into the photocopier and tugged on the offending sheet.

  ‘There,’ she said, as her elbow flew back, straight into Luke’s lip.

  ‘Damn!’ Luke jumped back, a small drop of blood bursting from the pinkness.

  ‘Oh my gosh… oh dear…oh, I’m so sorry.’ Now her face really was red, a perfect match for Luke’s mouth.

  Rushing to grab a tissue from the top of the filing cabinet, Flora apologised again. ‘I truly didn’t mean to hurt you, Luke. It was an accident.’ Tentatively, she stepped towards him and held out the tissue. His face bent towards her. His eyes were searching. One of his brows had lifted in question. Oh dear, this was not what she wanted at all. She had meant for him to wipe the blood away. This would never do. Now he would know she fancied him. If only he had never told her she was sexy.

  ‘It’s alright,’ he winced as she dabbed softly. ‘It’s just a pity we’re at school.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  He moved closer, his mouth close to her cheek. ‘If we weren’t here, I could ask you to kiss it better.’

  Oh my God. That was all she needed.

  ****

  Out in the car park, Flora clutched at the steering wheel and tried to think. Her chest rose raggedly as she gasped for a cleansing dash of air. Luke had almost kissed her. Again. Taking her glasses off, she rummaged through her bag and found the cleaner. Trying to calm herself, she squirted and scrubbed at the lens until she was satisfied. If only she could wipe away the thoughts she was having about Luke with as much ease. The fantasy was acceptable when it was just that, but turning it into a reality was a whole new ball game. And Flora didn’t like games. In fact, she had never been one for any sort of sport at all.

  Feeling, at last that she was capable of entering the road without causing a major traffic incident, she pulled her seatbelt over her shoulder and fastened the clip to secure it. It was then that she noticed a scrap of paper, tucked under the windscreen wiper on the drivers’ side of her car. Whatever could it be? Arm reaching out the window, Flora flicked it from under the wiper and sat back in her seat, turning the sheet in her hand. It was an ordinary piece of lined paper; just like the ones she used every day. Slowly, she unfolded the quartered slip.

  ‘You have a very pretty smile.’

  Confused, she looked around. The car park was deserted, except for PJ’s yellow beetle and a rental car she presumed was Luke’s. She looked at the note again. Whatever did it mean? Well, of course, she knew what it meant but who…. who could have sent it? And why? It must be some sort of mistake.

  ‘You do actually have to turn on the car to get home, you know.’ PJ was tapping on the edge of the windscreen, interrupting her thoughts.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I know this is the twenty first century and all, but cars don’t drive themselves, not even if you speak nicely to them.’

  Aware that she had been muttering to herself, Flora stopped short. Bugger. Now PJ would be sticking her nose in and the whole school would find out her business. She was useless at keeping secrets.

  ‘Are you okay, Flower? You look flushed.’

  ‘It’s nothing, I’m fine.’ But it wasn’t. The situation was anything but fine. First Luke, now this.

  ‘Are you worrying about Luke? Look, you shouldn’t be so anal about it. Louise and I were only teasing before. We can’t help it; you take the bait so easily.’

  Flora folded the paper and placed it neatly in the console. PJ was right. She shouldn’t be so serious all the time. It was no difference to her whether Luke was gay, straight or married. She could only become involved if she let herself. So what if he left notes on her window?

  Nothing had happened apart from a little harmless flirtation. People did it all the time in the workplace. And nothing more would happen. Yes, she would stop being such a worry wart.

  ‘Thanks Peej.’

  ‘Pleasure, darling, now must fly. I have a hair appointment in thirty minutes. I’ve been considering a change of look…’ she said. ‘What do you think of a Katie Holmes bob?’

  Flora tilted her head. Everyone knew Katie Holmes was Dylan’s favourite actress. ‘I think most people can pull a bob off it it’s done right. Why don’t you ask the stylist?’ She hoped she didn’t sound too decisive. The last thing she needed was PJ blaming her if she ended up looking like Joan Collins instead of Katie Holmes.

  Turning on the ignition, Flora felt the quiet hum of the car. ‘I have to run, too. My dance class is tonight,’ she said, putting the car into gear.

  ‘I can’t believe you still want to go.’

  ‘I told you; I’ve paid for the whole term. Besides it’s fun.’

  ‘Hmm. Maybe if you’re a one-eyed mutant.’

  Chapter 9

  Okay, so it was not the fun she’d envisaged, Flora decided as she Cha cha’d across the parquet floor later that evening. It was like being the victim of some evil plan to destroy her interest in dancing for all eternity. One, two, cha, cha, cha. Three, four, cha, cha, stomp. Ouch! A large brown shoe filled with and even larger foot landed dead on her left little toe. Now she knew how Luke had felt as she’d clodhopped her way over his feet that first night. It was not fun at all.

  Flora had hoped that Luke would be at the class; that un
der less formal circumstances he would whisk her into his arms, sail her around the dance floor then throw her into a darkened corner where he would proceed to kiss her, thus fulfilling the fanciful daydream she’d been having since the incident in the office. In her mind she had seen it all and it was delicious. The reality was not as encouraging. Luke was not here and the room was lit so bright it could probably be seen on Google Earth.

  Portly Balding Guy was Flora’s partner that night and his Cha Cha Cha left little to the imagination. He was not light of foot. His belly bounced like a semi-deflated water balloon, his palms were clammy and his hairless scalp cast a glow of perspiration over the room. Little beads of sweat had formed rivers and were trickling over the furrows in his brow and pooling in the wrinkles on the back of his neck. It was not a pretty sight. He smiled a buck toothed grin and Flora noticed his teeth. A bit of Colgate ‘Whiter in 14 Days’ wouldn’t have gone astray.

  ‘Are you enjoying the classes?’ he asked, as he tried to direct her around the room. Clearly, garlic had been on the menu for dinner, lots of it.

  I was until about ten minutes ago, Flora thought, grimacing. But this was not meeting expectations at all.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, polite to the last. The man couldn’t help it if he looked like Yoda from Star Wars. ‘I think I’m improving, too. What about you?’

  A heel plonked on Flora’s arch.

  ‘Oh yes. I always wanted to learn to dance, you know, but my wife wouldn’t let me. She thought it was a waste of time.’ He puffed and panted as he dipped Flora towards the floor. She hoped he wouldn’t drop her. It could be very embarrassing having to explain such bruises.

  ‘So… something has changed then?’ The poor guy must have stood up for himself. Who knew? His learning to dance might bring a bit of romance back into their lives. Such things had been known to change marriages. It happened in Richard Gere movies all the time.

  ‘Oh. She died. Food poisoning,’ Portly Guy stated, matter-of-factly, then chuckled at his own good fortune.

  ‘That’s a pity. You must miss her.’