mother’s hand against the fabric. ‘You told me off when you found the receipt then boasted to everyone there how much I’d spent.’ Lila laughed but there was a catch in it as her mother just lay there.
Was she remembering? Did anything reach her? As they sat there, the music playing in the background, it was Lila who remembered that night. How Declan had been there with her, chatting and laughing with everyone, dancing the embarrassing dances that seemed mandatory on these nights as if it were the best party he had ever been to. He’d loved this dress, too.
Lila closed her eyes as the memories started to flood in. Memories that she’d pushed away for so long.
The giggles as he’d tried to locate the zip hidden at the side within the seam. Gently pulling it down, her gasp as his warm hands had slipped inside the flimsy fabric, her warm breast waiting, tingling for his touch, the admiration in his eyes as the fabric had fluttered down to her slender ankles…
*
Lila arrived fashionably late, of course. She didn’t bother her colleagues with the details, but by the time Elizabeth had been washed and changed and washed and changed again the meal was already starting.
‘I thought you weren’t coming!’
‘I said I’d be here, didn’t I?’ Lila grinned slipping into her seat as her colleagues nodded and waved at her.
‘Have I missed anything?’ she asked as the waiter filled her glass.
‘Well,’ Sue whispered loudly, ‘The Horse has a slick of blue eye shadow on and has knocked up the most amazing tartan dress from one of Trigger’s old blankets, and Mr Hinkley has for once in his life added a splash of whisky to his water, but apart from that, no, you didn’t miss much.’
Lila was about to execute a smart reply but Declan’s arrival from the bar, depositing his drinks directly in front of her, seemed to find Lila suddenly tongue-tied.
He seemed to start for an instant when he saw her sitting there, his gaze flicking over her. As a deep blush swept over her Lila was grateful for the dimmed lights. Surely he didn’t remember the dress, remember that night…
‘Actually—’ Sue’s voice was quieter now and she spoke from behind her menu ‘—Yvonne is knocking it back like it’s going out of fashion. I don’t think Declan’s too impressed.’
Lila looked over. Yvonne did indeed have that dangerous glint in her eye as she tipped her wine into the glass Declan had brought over. She was dressed to kill; crushed red velvet draped her figure, her bust spilling out over the top. She was all over him, embarrassingly so, and Declan looked far from impressed, pulling his hand away when she grabbed it, ducking his face away as she moved in to whisper to him.
‘Maybe they had a row before they came out,’ Lila suggested.
‘I don’t know about that,’ Sue said dramatically,‘but I can guarantee there’ll be one hell of a row when they get home.’
The food was delicious, or at least everyone said it was, but for Lila the food was the last thing on her mind. Declan was close, so close. Sitting directly opposite her, she couldn’t help but see him.
She could feel him watching her also, though she tried to ignore him. Tried to concentrate on what her friends were saying, to laugh at their jokes, to hopefully look like she was having some fun.
The waiter came round with the main course, depositing the alternate meals as the table surveyed what they had been given.
‘Chicken or beef,’ the waiter asked, and for the first time a sliver of a smile passed between her and Declan, an indicator that he, too, vividly remembered the jokes they had shared, the memories of what had once bound them together.
She would come back to Melbourne from a long-haul flight utterly exhausted but never too tired to end up at Declan’s. He would run her a bath, massage her aching feet and ankles and listen as she rambled on about her job—how tired she was, how difficult the passengers had been.
‘Come on,
Was she remembering? Did anything reach her? As they sat there, the music playing in the background, it was Lila who remembered that night. How Declan had been there with her, chatting and laughing with everyone, dancing the embarrassing dances that seemed mandatory on these nights as if it were the best party he had ever been to. He’d loved this dress, too.
Lila closed her eyes as the memories started to flood in. Memories that she’d pushed away for so long.
The giggles as he’d tried to locate the zip hidden at the side within the seam. Gently pulling it down, her gasp as his warm hands had slipped inside the flimsy fabric, her warm breast waiting, tingling for his touch, the admiration in his eyes as the fabric had fluttered down to her slender ankles…
*
Lila arrived fashionably late, of course. She didn’t bother her colleagues with the details, but by the time Elizabeth had been washed and changed and washed and changed again the meal was already starting.
‘I thought you weren’t coming!’
‘I said I’d be here, didn’t I?’ Lila grinned slipping into her seat as her colleagues nodded and waved at her.
‘Have I missed anything?’ she asked as the waiter filled her glass.
‘Well,’ Sue whispered loudly, ‘The Horse has a slick of blue eye shadow on and has knocked up the most amazing tartan dress from one of Trigger’s old blankets, and Mr Hinkley has for once in his life added a splash of whisky to his water, but apart from that, no, you didn’t miss much.’
Lila was about to execute a smart reply but Declan’s arrival from the bar, depositing his drinks directly in front of her, seemed to find Lila suddenly tongue-tied.
He seemed to start for an instant when he saw her sitting there, his gaze flicking over her. As a deep blush swept over her Lila was grateful for the dimmed lights. Surely he didn’t remember the dress, remember that night…
‘Actually—’ Sue’s voice was quieter now and she spoke from behind her menu ‘—Yvonne is knocking it back like it’s going out of fashion. I don’t think Declan’s too impressed.’
Lila looked over. Yvonne did indeed have that dangerous glint in her eye as she tipped her wine into the glass Declan had brought over. She was dressed to kill; crushed red velvet draped her figure, her bust spilling out over the top. She was all over him, embarrassingly so, and Declan looked far from impressed, pulling his hand away when she grabbed it, ducking his face away as she moved in to whisper to him.
‘Maybe they had a row before they came out,’ Lila suggested.
‘I don’t know about that,’ Sue said dramatically,‘but I can guarantee there’ll be one hell of a row when they get home.’
The food was delicious, or at least everyone said it was, but for Lila the food was the last thing on her mind. Declan was close, so close. Sitting directly opposite her, she couldn’t help but see him.
She could feel him watching her also, though she tried to ignore him. Tried to concentrate on what her friends were saying, to laugh at their jokes, to hopefully look like she was having some fun.
The waiter came round with the main course, depositing the alternate meals as the table surveyed what they had been given.
‘Chicken or beef,’ the waiter asked, and for the first time a sliver of a smile passed between her and Declan, an indicator that he, too, vividly remembered the jokes they had shared, the memories of what had once bound them together.
She would come back to Melbourne from a long-haul flight utterly exhausted but never too tired to end up at Declan’s. He would run her a bath, massage her aching feet and ankles and listen as she rambled on about her job—how tired she was, how difficult the passengers had been.
‘Come on,
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