about to ask him one last time about his mother, but a waitress hovered by the table. It gave Nik the perfect escape route from her questioning. It also presented Georgia with a problem of her own. She’d barely glanced at the menu.
‘You go first,’ she said, hoping a few extra seconds would give her enough time to decide.
‘The specials look good,’ Nik said, peering at the blackboard. ‘I think I’ll have the prawns to start and then the barramundi.’
‘Good choice,’ the waitress said. She turned to Georgia. ‘And for you?’
Georgia concentrated on the menu, hoping to pass herself off as a sophisticated, regular diner. What had Ella said about menus? Avoid the spaghetti – it gets all over your face. No corncobs, spinach or black pepper – they get stuck in your teeth. But what was she meant to order? She was beginning to feel like a fraud.
‘The same for me,’ Georgia said, taking the path of least resistance. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to get through too many prawns. They were all right in sushi, but a plate of naked crustaceans wasn’t top of her list of favourites.
‘So you want to be a doctor,’ Nik said, steering the conversation away from him again. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I really want to work for Médicins Sans Frontières,’ Georgia replied. ‘You know, Doctors Without Borders. They do a lot of work in war zones, that kind of thing. Or maybe the Fistula Foundation. They support women who’ve been injured in childbirth – mostly in poor parts of Africa. I’m actually spending February in Kenya, seeing what they do.’
It was all true, but even as she said it, she could hear how desperately worthy it sounded. She might as well have said she wanted to solve global warming and secure world peace.
‘An unusual place to start your medical training – Kenya.’
Georgia smiled. ‘I’m not training – I’m just visiting a hospital in Nyanza Province. A friend of my father’s has invited me. Of course it’s going to cost a fortune. But I really want to see how it all works. Do you think that’s weird – blowing all my savings on a trip to Africa to see a hospital and watch some doctors?’
‘I think it’s quite … impressive,’ he said. ‘No-one I know has ever thought of helping other people as a career option. They just like to spend money. It doesn’t really matter whose money it is, as long as it doesn’t run out.’
Georgia smiled, not knowing quite how to respond.
‘Some people would call them well-dressed parasites.’ He laughed, but he seemed a little bitter.
‘And you?’ Georgia asked, tentatively. ‘Do you have any career plans – or is life just one big holiday for you?’
Nik shook his head. ‘The work begins in March. I start at the University of Sydney – International Business.’
‘Oh, Sydney,’ Georgia frowned. It was closer than London, but it was still a thousand kilometres away from her home in Brisbane – probably too far away for anything long-term.
Nik nodded. ‘My father bought me a place at Point Piper to … help me commit.’
Georgia didn’t know Sydney well, but she’d heard of Point Piper. Anyone who’d ever picked up a gossip magazine would know Point Piper. It was where Australia’s film stars and media magnates holed up – with some of Australia’s most expensive real estate, full of harbour-view mansions and lap pools.
Georgia imagined Nik sitting on a white leather sofa watching the yachts sail past on Sydney Harbour. She was there with him, her head on his shoulder. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, but what the hell.
‘It’s not a bad place,’ Nik said. ‘You can see the Harbour Bridge from every bedroom in the house.’
‘How many bedrooms does it have?’ Georgia asked.
‘Eight,’ Nik replied, without the slightest hint of embarrassment ‘You know … just in case we have visitors.’
‘Of course,’ Georgia replied. In her world, a sofa bed was perfectly fine for a casual
‘You go first,’ she said, hoping a few extra seconds would give her enough time to decide.
‘The specials look good,’ Nik said, peering at the blackboard. ‘I think I’ll have the prawns to start and then the barramundi.’
‘Good choice,’ the waitress said. She turned to Georgia. ‘And for you?’
Georgia concentrated on the menu, hoping to pass herself off as a sophisticated, regular diner. What had Ella said about menus? Avoid the spaghetti – it gets all over your face. No corncobs, spinach or black pepper – they get stuck in your teeth. But what was she meant to order? She was beginning to feel like a fraud.
‘The same for me,’ Georgia said, taking the path of least resistance. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to get through too many prawns. They were all right in sushi, but a plate of naked crustaceans wasn’t top of her list of favourites.
‘So you want to be a doctor,’ Nik said, steering the conversation away from him again. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I really want to work for Médicins Sans Frontières,’ Georgia replied. ‘You know, Doctors Without Borders. They do a lot of work in war zones, that kind of thing. Or maybe the Fistula Foundation. They support women who’ve been injured in childbirth – mostly in poor parts of Africa. I’m actually spending February in Kenya, seeing what they do.’
It was all true, but even as she said it, she could hear how desperately worthy it sounded. She might as well have said she wanted to solve global warming and secure world peace.
‘An unusual place to start your medical training – Kenya.’
Georgia smiled. ‘I’m not training – I’m just visiting a hospital in Nyanza Province. A friend of my father’s has invited me. Of course it’s going to cost a fortune. But I really want to see how it all works. Do you think that’s weird – blowing all my savings on a trip to Africa to see a hospital and watch some doctors?’
‘I think it’s quite … impressive,’ he said. ‘No-one I know has ever thought of helping other people as a career option. They just like to spend money. It doesn’t really matter whose money it is, as long as it doesn’t run out.’
Georgia smiled, not knowing quite how to respond.
‘Some people would call them well-dressed parasites.’ He laughed, but he seemed a little bitter.
‘And you?’ Georgia asked, tentatively. ‘Do you have any career plans – or is life just one big holiday for you?’
Nik shook his head. ‘The work begins in March. I start at the University of Sydney – International Business.’
‘Oh, Sydney,’ Georgia frowned. It was closer than London, but it was still a thousand kilometres away from her home in Brisbane – probably too far away for anything long-term.
Nik nodded. ‘My father bought me a place at Point Piper to … help me commit.’
Georgia didn’t know Sydney well, but she’d heard of Point Piper. Anyone who’d ever picked up a gossip magazine would know Point Piper. It was where Australia’s film stars and media magnates holed up – with some of Australia’s most expensive real estate, full of harbour-view mansions and lap pools.
Georgia imagined Nik sitting on a white leather sofa watching the yachts sail past on Sydney Harbour. She was there with him, her head on his shoulder. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, but what the hell.
‘It’s not a bad place,’ Nik said. ‘You can see the Harbour Bridge from every bedroom in the house.’
‘How many bedrooms does it have?’ Georgia asked.
‘Eight,’ Nik replied, without the slightest hint of embarrassment ‘You know … just in case we have visitors.’
‘Of course,’ Georgia replied. In her world, a sofa bed was perfectly fine for a casual
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