Page 66 of Catch a Kiwi
“Want to give me the address now?” I asked. “So I can collect you on Saturday morning?”
“Oh. OK.” She read it off, then asked, as if she didn’t want to say goodbye just yet either, “How are you doing? Still feeling good about this plan?”
“Yeh.” I had to clear my throat. “Yeh.”
“Can I do anything for you?” she asked. “Pick up a birthday present, maybe?”
“It’s not my birthday,” I said.
She sighed. “Roman. For your grandfather.”
“I know,” I said. “Teasing you. No idea. What do you give a man on his hundredth? Nothing that needs to age, anyway.”
Her soft laughter was my reward, and she said, “I’ll give it some thought.”
“I haven’t forgotten about the rest of it,” I said. “The weekend.I’m coming up with a plan now. I’ll ring you.” I wanted to say,Take some time there before you go job hunting,but I knew she wouldn’t, and that she’d also think it wasn’t my place to say, so I rang off and told Esther, “I also need some research from you.”
“Go,” she said.
“Best shops for dresses and women’s shoes in Dunedin. Best places for hair. Women’s hair. Manicures. Uh … other grooming things.”
“Salon,” she said. “Day spa. Do you want appointments?”
“No,” I said. “A list, though, and amounts. How much those things would cost. You know …” I hesitated.
“Yes?” she asked.
“A prepaid credit card,” I said. “With enough on it for two women to get all that. Assume they’re buying the best, add it up, and add a bit on in case. Seems more personal than just having money put into her account, and like it would feel better for a woman. What’s your opinion?”
She said, “I have no idea, but if that’s what you want, I’ll do it. Should I deliver it, or put it in the post?”
“Let me think about that,” I said.
“Do you want a greeting card?” she asked.
“A greeting card? Why?”
She didn’t sigh, because Esther never sighed. “If you’re trying to be more personal, a card would be good. Blank inside, I assume, so you can write your own message.”
“Oh,” I said. “Fine. Do that. Oh—and check into jobs for a software engineer. Call around the firms, see who may be hiring.”
“In what field?” she asked. “And here in Dunedin?”
“Yeh, Dunedin. And I don’t know. Does it matter? Isn’t it all programming?”
“Not necessarily,” she said. “It’ll be better if the personhas experience in that industry. What level of software engineer?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out.”
It was only after she’d left that I realized she presumably now thought I was datingtwowomen. This was a first for me, involving her in my dating life, and I was pretty sure she wasn’t chuffed about the change. Probably imagining the message I’d write in that card. “Best threesome I’ve ever had, but I’ll make sure the bed’s a king next time,” maybe, or possibly, “Can’t wait to see how the waxing turns out.”
Fortunately, Esther never shared, so I’d never know.
Summer
At five that afternoon, I was updating my C.V. on my phone, making lists of possible companies on a notepad, and trying not to feel discouraged at how few they were and how slim my chances might be, when I heard a knock at the caravan door. I opened it expecting to find Daisy, who’d greeted us when we’d arrived this morning, accepted my payment, showed us the caravan, and said, “Night shift this month, so I’ll go to bed and leave you to get settled in. Feel free to walk around the place, pick the fruit and so on. There are some groceries in the fridge and cabinet,” and left.
It wasn’t Daisy, but a slim, petite brunette about Delilah’s age, with a spiky short haircut and plenty of personality in her face. She said, “Hi. I’m Priya, come to invite you to dinner. It’s Frankie’s turn tonight, and she doesn’t like to cook, so don’t get too excited, but I thought I’d invite you to come up now, since it’s boring down here in the caravan. No TV. I stayed here for a few months with my sister Oriana, and I hated it. So tiny, and there’s nothing to do.”
