Nobody but Him by Victoria Purman

smile.
    ‘Thanks Julia, I’m so proud of it. It’s been four years and I’ve never been busier.’ Then her smile vanished, her hand covering her mouth in a quick movement. ‘I got so excited about seeing you again that I forgot to say … I was so truly sorry to hear about your mother.’
    ‘Thanks Stella.’
    ‘It was so sudden …’
    Julia managed a sad smile. ‘Yeah, it was.’
    ‘I wondered when you’d be back. You staying for long?’
    ‘No, not long.’
    ‘Are you going to keep the house? What will you do with it?’
    Julia sighed. ‘I don’t know. I was hoping that coming home … coming back would help me decide.’
    ‘Has it?’
    Julia gave her a sad smile. ‘Not yet.’
    ‘I’d love to catch up before you leave.’ Stella handed Julia her business card. ‘Why don’t you find a time that suits and I’ll book dinner at the Middle Point pub. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to. It’s been too long.’
    Julia swallowed. ‘The pub?’
    Stella looked at her expectantly. Julia wavered. Now there was a dilemma.
    And then in walked another one.
    ‘Mum, look at that bowl. Isn’t it simply divine?’
    Julia froze. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, like soldiers about to go into battle. She’d know that voice anywhere. Fingernails down a blackboard. Lady Muck and The Princess had walked in right behind her.
    ‘Ooh, Amanda, look at this lovely white linen shirt.’
    With a surreptitious glance over her shoulder, Julia could see the royal family were far more interested in the shopping than her and she let out a barely disguised sigh of relief.
    She leaned over the counter, gave Stella a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered. ‘I’d love to catch up for dinner. I’ll call you.’
    ‘Make sure you do.’
    A loud ring tone echoed throughout the shop and Amanda exclaimed loudly for the benefit of everyone within earshot. ‘Oh it’s Ry.
    Julia closed her eyes. At times like this, she decided, one simply had to keep a calm head. And refrain from wanting to punch someone in theirs.
    ‘I will definitely call you,’ she mouthed to Stella.
    ‘Hello handsome. Where are you?’ Amanda’s giggles filled the shop. Giggling? The Princess was at least ten years and too many Botox shots too old for giggling, for God’s sake.
    Julia and Stella exchanged glances. ‘Promise?’
    Julia pocketed the business card. ‘I will. You’d better see to your customers.’
    The bell tinkled her departure and Julia was glad to shut out the grating conversation going on inside the shop. She stopped on the footpath, tried to calm her anger and frustration with a deep breath. In and out, slowly. And then she repeated the whole routine ten more times. She needed to let all the noises of the street into her head, to crowd out Amanda’s voice. And to crowd out Amanda. The Princess. Whiny Girl. And the hardest epithet of all: Mrs Blackburn.
    She needed to get home. Not Middle Point home. Melbourne home. Julia leaned back against the glass window of Stella’s shop, closed her eyes, and let herself imagine what she would be doing in Melbourne that very second, if a space/time continuum could open up and magically snap her back to the streets of Brunswick. If it was early afternoon on a public holiday Monday in Melbourne, she’d probably have just finished lunch at a café with some friends. They might be doing a little window-shopping before winding up the day at her place with a superb glass of wine and a DVD. A chilled-out day, gossiping over who was doing what with whom, a dissection of the movies and TV shows people were watching, perhaps sharing thoughts on a new restaurant opening or dishing on celebrity sightings. That kind of day sounded like heaven.
    Breathe, she told herself, as she sucked in another lungful, trying to calm the pounding in her chest. You will survive this detour through hell. It will all be over soon. And then you can go home.
    She straightened her shoulders and opened her eyes