The Colour of Sunday Afternoons Read online

  Joe thought the room was deserted by now, but when he turned around Michelle was standing next to him.

  “Awake, Joe?” she said.

  “Just. How about you? Managed to stay alive?”

  Michelle patted him on the arm. “Better than you did, anyway. I thought you were going to start snoring! Lucky for you, no one else seemed to notice.”

  “Hmmm.” Joe had some more water.

  “You know, Joe, your trouble is you work too hard. You’ve got to learn to slow down a little. Maybe that way, you’d stay awake! Why don’t ... why don’t I take you out for dinner? You need the rest.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Michelle touched Joe’s arm again; this time she let her hand stay there. “I know I am. So, are you busy? I’ve been meaning to ask you for ages.”

  Joe looked down at her hand on his forearm, and from there to Michelle’s impressive figure. Suddenly, he realised what was going on was more than just a friendly dinner invitation. “You’re not talking about food, are you?”

  “Come on, Joe. You must have noticed! Don’t tell me you’ve been so engrossed in that diary of yours that you’ve never realised ... I was interested.” Michelle flashed him one of her dazzling smiles. “Let’s get something to eat. You know we’d enjoy ourselves. Let’s live a little.”

  The Nineties Woman, Joe thought. Great, except for the minor detail that if he got involved with a colleague, Kerryn would kick his butt, and Michelle’s, straight out of the sales force. “Oh, Michelle, you know I can’t. You’re terrific, but this isn’t a good idea. Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

  Michelle seemed unimpressed. “Well, if you insist. But no one has to know, you know. You can always change your mind, can’t you, Joe?” She turned, confidently, and walked out of the room without another word.

  Joe stood alone for a moment. He finally broke into a laugh. Shaking his head, he switched off the meeting room lights and closed the door behind him. It was ridiculous that Michelle said he, Joe Mathews, could be too engrossed in a diary to notice a beautiful woman. That, he was convinced, was nonsense.

  Chapter 8

  “More coffee?” Joe asked the question like a nurse at the bedside of a favourite patient. Paul, sitting comfortably at Joe’s dining room table, held his hand over his cup, but Sue – despite the big evening meal the three had just enjoyed – was far from satisfied.

  “You betcha!” she said.

  Joe filled her cup.

  “Thanks, Joe. You’re quite a cook, you know. Why some nice girl hasn’t caught you yet, I’ll never know. Do you chase them away?”

  Joe sat down. He surveyed the remnants of a gourmet meal: empty plates, a few leftovers, three napkins dropped lightly on the tablecloth. “Yeah, Sue. That’s right. I chase them away.”

  Paul shook his head. “Chase them away? He doesn’t even look at them. The last time I tried to set him up with an actress ...”

  “Actress?!” said Joe. “She was an exotic dancer. And when I say exotic ...”

  “Cut it out, you two,” said Sue. “Paul does have a point, though. It’s no good denying it.”

  Joe threw his hands in the air. “What point could he possibly have? Okay, tell me. Will somebody please tell me what I did wrong? I’m listening.”

  "She wasn't that exotic," said Paul. "I mean, the thing with the python: okay, a little unusual, maybe, but I've seen worse. Did I ever tell you about the trapeze artist who ..."

  Sue shot Paul a stern glance. "I'm trying to be serious, Paul! I think we need to introduce Joe to a nice girl. Someone you'd take to meet your mother. You know, like ..."

  "Gidget," said Paul. "Or Barbie."

  "Right," Joe added. "I could be Ken. Sounds great."

  "Men!" Sue gulped down her coffee in one swig, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and looked at Joe. "There’s someone I want you to meet, Joe. In fact, I dare you!"

  Even Paul raised his eyebrows at this.

  Joe looked a little wary. "You ... want me to meet someone?"

  "Yes,” said Sue. “I do.”

  "Just divorced, right?"

  "No."

  “Just done five to ten for armed robbery?"

  "No."

  "Embezzlement? Fraud? Unpaid parking tickets?"

  "No."

  "Attractive?"

  Sue relaxed a little. "Well, yes. Only I've never met her."

  Joe slapped his forehead with a melodramatic palm. "Oh – you've never met her. Of course! You want to introduce me to a close personal friend, whom you've never met. Should be a match made in heaven. I can see it now."

  Paul shrugged. "Don't knock it. A date’s a date."

  At once, Sue and Joe turned to Paul, and frowned.

  Sue went on. "Now look, Joe. I know you don't like to talk about it, but when my husband had the accident, you really helped me. It was about two years after I’d lost him, and I still hadn't shown any interest in meeting anyone new, until you encouraged me to get on with my life. Right?"

  Joe smiled. "Yeah, I know."

  "You even got me to go to the Cardiology party. I met Alan. And things have gone well. You know, there’s really something there."

  "Told you so," said Joe, “even if you are cradle-snatching, picking up a young doctor barely out of the nest!"

  Sue laughed. "Oh, be serious will you!"

  "Yes, Joe," Paul mocked. "Be serious."

  Joe shrugged. “All right, all right. Go on."

  "Well," said Sue, "it's been on my mind. I'd like to do something to help you in the same ... department. You know."

  "Cardiology? I've seen Dr Fritz. She's kind of sexy, for a sixty-year-old, but those horn-rimmed spectacles turn me off."

  "Not Cardiology! Romance. I want to help you in the romance department, you idiot. There’s someone I want you to meet."

  Paul looked expectantly at Joe. "Well, how about it, Joe? Are you a man or a mouse? No, don’t answer that question."

  Joe groaned. "Okay, Sue. Tell me about this woman you’ve never met but you think would be perfect for me. I can't believe I'm saying this, but go ahead and tell me."

  "I have this friend, Gary."

  "Sue!" Paul hissed. "That’s a man’s name!"

  Sue rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up!"

  "Sorry."

  "As I was saying, I have this friend, Gary. He's just confronted his parents about being adopted, and things are pretty rough for him. Anyway, he was telling me about this woman at the office – he works for a software company – who’s been really supportive. Now, I can tell you, Gary’s a great guy, and he said this is a really impressive woman. She's single, available, and working too hard. Perfect for you."

  "So?"

  "So, I know Gary. If he says this is an impressive woman, this is an impressive woman. Attractive, too, so he tells me. To cut a long story short, I told him you’d like to meet her! By the way, her name’s Jane. Jane Hamilton."

  "You said what?!"

  "He’s going to tell her all about you. I told him to say you're a fabulous guy, handsome and available. Neat, huh?" Sue looked very happy with herself.

  "Neat? Is that all you've got to say for yourself? Neat?! You can't go around setting up people behind their backs. It's not ..."

  At this point, Paul interrupted. "Alan told her, you know."

  Joe looked at Sue, without a word.

  Sue nodded. "I know all about it, Joe. Alan told me you'd mentioned me to him on one of your sales calls, told him I was going to the Cardiology Department party, suggested that he meet me. I know all about it."

  "But you never said you knew. I mean, I deny everything!"

  "I just want to repay the favour. And ... thanks. Never figured you the matchmaker type. Of course, you might have found me a man who wasn't going bald." Sue winked.

  Joe gave in. "You win. Okay, I'll meet her, this Jane, if she wants to. But if I have a horrible night I'm holding you personally responsible!"

  "Of course," said Sue.
"Gary will let me know if she wants to meet you. I told him to play down that facial tic of yours, the hunchback, the tobacco chewing, and all. I'm sure she won't be put off. She'll probably agree to a date out of sheer pity."

  "Thanks a million,” said Joe. “I can't wait."

  "Good!” said Sue. “Now that's agreed, let's have some more dessert."

  Joe got up, painfully, and headed for the kitchen.

  Lilly and Bill had been seated a full twenty minutes in Harold's Cafe, when Jane finally rushed in. Her friends seemed annoyed by her late entrance, but Jane knew that, indeed, she was always late – so she couldn’t blame them for being annoyed. She took a seat, and tried to ignore Bill and Lilly’s disapproving stares. "Sorry I'm late, guys. So, uh, what's new?"

  Bill handed Jane a small photograph. "See this? Stevie helped Leslie bake, on Sunday. This is the proud chef with his creation: chocolate cake!"

  Jane studied the snapshot. "Cute."

  "Well, he did need a little help. We had to explain that half a cup of black pepper probably wasn't a good idea."

  Lilly raised her eyebrows. "I don't know. Might stop you from taking that extra slice. From what I've heard, you haven't stuck to the diet. Leslie said that ..."

  " ... that I was caught at the refrigerator, scoffing cake. And what if I was? My own child helped bake it. Why not have an extra slice?" Bill seemed offended.

  Jane handed the picture back. "Well, I think it's a lovely cake. Stevie will probably grow up to be a chef. Either that or a construction worker. Is that chocolate icing in his hair? He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, is he?"

  A young waiter arrived at the table. He was tall and handsome. Probably a student at the local college, Jane thought.

  "What can I get you folks?" said the waiter.

  "Well," said Lilly, with an exaggerated smile. "What I’d really like is a nice, big, steaming hot cappuccino. Could you do that for me?"

  The waiter shrugged and scribbled down the order.

  Jane shot Lilly an accusing glance. "Just a pot of Earl Grey tea, please; and Bill, here, will have a mineral water."

  The waiter put away his pencil and left the table.

  "Lilly!" Jane snapped. "Can’t you order coffee without having to describe it as a nice, big, steaming hot ...? I thought you were going to bat your eyelids!"

  "A girl can have a little fun," Lilly replied, untroubled.

  "Hmmm."

  Bill bumped Lilly's knee with his own, under the table. "Um, Jane. Lilly has something to discuss with you."

  "Oh?"

  "Why, yes!" Lilly exclaimed. "I nearly forgot. Now, is that mobile phone of yours switched off, Jane? We don't want any interruptions."

  "I didn't bring it."

  Lilly opened her eyes wide. "You mean you didn't bring your phone? You, Ms Workaholic 1999? I'm impressed."

  Jane shrugged. "The battery was flat."

  Lilly puffed out a huge sigh and shook her head. "Whatever. Now, listen. There’s this friend of mine, and she’s been trying to chat up this great guy."

  "Uh huh."

  "So, she hasn't had any success. I mean, she's virtually thrown herself at this guy, and he hasn't done anything about it. Not that he doesn't like her. It's just he doesn't want to get involved with someone at work."

  "Hmmm."

  "Well, my friend, Michelle, says this guy’s really something. He’s one of the sales reps in her company. Pharmaceuticals. A bit distracted, maybe, a little too wrapped up in his work, but an interesting guy. She even says he's handsome, on a good day; and knowing how fussy Michelle is, that’s gotta say something. Anyway, she gave up on him. We had coffee. She told me all about it."

  "All about him," said Bill, encouragingly.

  “Right,” said Lilly.

  Jane frowned. "Would someone please tell me what’s going on?"

  "I'd be delighted,” said Lilly. “What we have here, if you stop to think about it, is an inside tip on a great guy. Why don't we set you up to meet him? The name's Joe. Joe Mathews. Apparently he’s got too much integrity – are you listening? – too much integrity to fool around at the office. Good, huh?"

  "Sure, Lilly. Sure, Bill. Yeah, right. This Joe's a great guy. I believe you. But no way am I going to meet some guy on some crazy blind date. Forget it!"

  "There's nothing wrong with blind dates,” said Bill. “I met Leslie on a blind date. We've been happily married for eight years. If I can do it, so can you. What’s the matter, Jane? Chicken?”

  This left Jane speechless. She was cornered.

  Lilly tried to close the deal. "So, how about it, Janey? What do you say? Just say the word and your Aunty Lilly will organise everything."

  Jane laughed. "Look, guys, this is sweet of you, but I'm not looking to meet anyone, just now. Thanks, but ... it’s not for me. And anyway, I've always thought fate would bring on Mr Right, not a blind date. Thanks, but no, thanks."

  Before Lilly could protest, the waiter had returned to the table.

  "Now," he said, his long fringe of blonde hair hanging over his boyish face. "It was you, ma'am, who ordered the big, steaming hot cappuccino, wasn't it?" The waiter stared right into Lilly’s surprised hazel eyes.

  Lilly did a double take before she could answer, embarrassed. "Uh, yes.”

  The waiter grinned.

  Lilly turned bright red.

  When the waiter left, it was Bill who spoke. "Never thought I'd see a man get the better of you, Lilly. I’ll treasure that moment, always."

  Lilly punched him in the arm.

  Jane drank tea, and tried not to think about men.

  Chapter 9

  The words on Jane's computer screen began to swirl and blur. Jane was tired. Maybe she should go home, she thought. She was just about to get up from her programming desk when Gary's hand came down warmly on her shoulder.

  Jane flinched, before she realised who it was.

  Gary was cheerful. "Hey, J."

  "You really shouldn't sneak up on people, you know!”

  Gary laughed. “Keeps you on your toes. How’s it going?”

  Jane rubbed her neck. “I’m tired. Just can’t concentrate. Suddenly, C looks like Greek to me. Know what I mean? "

  "It is seven-thirty. Even your brain’s bound slow down after ten hours. But, my dear Jane, we have to stop meeting like this. Just you and me, late in the office, and everyone gone home two hours ago. People will talk." He smirked.

  Jane patted him on the arm. "You're a sweetie, Gary. But how are things going with your mum and dad?"

  Gary pulled over a swivel chair from the next desk and dropped into it. "Oh, Mum’s calmed down. Actually, she's been quite good about it. Dad keeps muttering under his breath, but he'll come around. They just weren't expecting it."

  "And what about ..."

  "My birth mother? I still haven't met her. Soon. But let's change the subject. It's just you and me, alone again, Jane. Want to get drunk?”

  “Maybe not. I’m too tired for drinking.”

  "Okay." Gary raised a pointed finger. "But I've been doing a little research."

  "Research?"

  "Statistics. How long since you've been on a decent date, Jane? And I don't mean drinks at a company conference with some pot-bellied accountant, either."

  "You mean Johnson, of Johnson, Klein and Klein? But I like whisky-breath!"

  "My point, precisely. Now, Jane, fortune has smiled upon you. Uncle Gary has found you a decent date. No pot belly, no whisky-breath, and as a special bonus, able to string more than three words together to form an intelligent sentence."

  "No,” Jane groaned. “Not you, too! Lilly’s already on my case. Why does everyone think they have to be my matchmaker? I'm perfectly happy single."

  "You mean if you met a great guy, you’d just ignore him?"

  Jane sighed. "If he was really great, no. I wouldn't ignore him. Okay?"

  “Atta girl!” Gary exclaimed. “Now, I've been speaking to my friend, Sue. She knows this guy. She s
ays he's just the kind of man an intelligent career woman would find at least worth the price of one cup of coffee."

  Jane grimaced. "Go on."

  "So I told her you'd meet him, this Friday night. Why waste time?"

  Before Jane could protest, which she was planning to do mightily, Gary held up his hand. "Look, it's just for coffee at your favourite haunt, Harold's Cafe. No big deal. You meet there after work. You don't even have to dress up. And Harold will be behind the counter, keeping an eye on things. What could be simpler?"

  Jane slapped her forehead. "Have all my friends gone mad? Look, I told Lilly – she tried to set me up with some sales rep – I don't believe in blind dates! Interesting people always come by chance, by ... a quirk of fate, not by set-ups."

  Gary looked surprised. "Did you say, sales rep?"

  "Yeah. Some jerk that Lilly's friend, Michelle, was trying to chat up. I mean, honestly, you'd have to be pretty desperate to go on a blind date with some complete stranger just because ..."

  "What company?" asked Gary, in a quiet voice.

  "What do you mean, 'What company?' How should I know?! I don't even recall the guy's name. Jack ... John ... something. Joe: that’s it. Don't remember the surname. I'm trying to forget the whole thing. Lilly must be out of her mind ..." Jane stopped talking. She had noticed a strange expression on Gary’s face. She didn’t like it.

  "But the guy Sue’s talking about is a sales rep, a sales rep named Joe. You know, Jane, I hate to say this, but I think your friend, Lilly, and I are trying to set you up with the same guy. Joe Mathews. You might have seen him – he's a jazz musician. He plays at the Blues Cafe, sometimes. You go there, don’t you?"

  "Come to think of it, I do,” said Jane. “Don't tell me he's the short guy that plays the drums, because if he's the short guy that plays the drums, I'd rather call up Johnson and suggest he, Klein, Klein and I do lunch."

  "Nope. He's the piano player. And I don't even know Lilly – this is pure coincidence. I submit, Your Honour, that the defendant has no excuse to deny fate. She has to at least meet the guy for one cup of coffee, with nothing to lose and no effort required. I rest my case." Gary folded his arms.

  Jane reached over, grabbed him by the throat, and pretended to strangle him. "Auggghh! If you ever do this to me again, I'll kill you! How could you tell someone I'd meet him, without asking me first?" She let him go. "But, all right, just this once, I'll do it. But you buy me lunch every day for a month, if this guy does anything even remotely weird. Deal?"