Page 151 of Begin Again Again

Beth headed back to the house and collected her backpack, tote and a few pairs of shoes crammed in a plastic bag. She wedged them behind the driver’s seat then stood back to admire her handiwork. Everything she owned was sitting in the car. Well, almost everything. She’d started her day with the hardest task—calling her parents and telling them she was moving to Perth. Their interest was minimal, but her mum informed her they were turning her bedroom into a home gym. She’d thrown out her bed, desk, and bookshelves and boxed up all her novels and DVDs.

“You’ve got a year to come get them or they’re going to Savemart,” her mum had said.

It was such a blatant act of punishment for not coming home for Christmas, Beth’s blood turned to acid. She opened her mouth to tell her mum that what she was doing wasn’t fair, then remembered the advice she’d given Sal.‘If you stay where you are, trying to reason with their bullshit, you’ll only end up bitter.’

Beth had exhaled, a long loud sigh, and a third option occurred to her. “I’ll pay for postage, Mum. Send my books to my new place. I’ll need something to read.”

Sal had DM’d her on Instagram last night to say thank you. They also sent a video of them pulling thigh high platform boots out of a box at Byron’s place, so that explained at least one of the heavy parcels. Beth hearted the video and told Sal to call whenever they felt like it. It might be awkward being mates since she and Byron were no longer a thing, but she hoped they could make it work.

Beth closed her rear passenger door and turned back to look at Mrs J’s place. It was white and solemn and, except for Muffin and Pizza, entirely empty. She could leave her keys in the letterbox and go, but she stayed, leaning against her new car and remembering the look on Byron’s face when she first opened the door to him. She’d been hoping he’d come back for her. She wasn’t too proud to admit that. But she couldn’t stay now. Caroline Knapp wrote that when you quit drinking, you quit waiting. Beth had already rescued herself, now it was time to do it again. Muffin and Pizza peeked at her from the loungeroom window. Beth wiped her eyes and waved to them. They sat unblinking, waiting for her return.

“Sorry, babies.” Beth peeled Mrs J’s housekeys from her Betty Boop keychain. She tucked them into the thank you card she’d bought and walked to the front gate. She couldn’t help looking down the road, as though Byron’s Hilux might still be driving toward her. It wasn’t. She slipped the card into the locked letterbox. “Thanks, Mrs J.”

It was done. Feeling slightly dizzy, Beth walked back to her car and opened the driver side door. An engine roared and she turned to see a Deliveroo guy on an electric bike cruising up Mrs J’s driveway.

“Fucking hell.” She shut the car door and walked toward him. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t order anything.”

The guy ignored her. He braked and dug in the green and black pouch between his handlebars. “Bethany?”

“Uh… yeah?”

He extracted what looked like a hot pink shoebox and held it out. Confused, Beth took it. The label on top said, ‘Curious Creations.’ She had no idea what that meant.

“Are you sure this is for me?” she asked the driver.

But he was already kick-starting his bike and zooming away, leaving her with a box of whatever-the-fuck. She shook it. Whatever was inside rattled like dice. It didn’t feel or smell like food. Did Deliveroo send gifts? Even if they did, who would have sent her something? Mrs J? Lara? Byron?

Beth doubted all three. Lara didn’t have this address; Mrs J didn’t seem the type, and as for Byron, Beth was sure he’d gone back into hibernation. He might not surface for another month and even then, he’d probably just be drunk and wanting more nudes.

Her insides aching, Beth decided to open the present. She got into the driver’s seat and used her car key to slit the tape holding the box shut. When she lifted the lid, the smell of ginger and baking rushed into the air. She pulled away a sheet of pink tissue paper and found cookies. Gorgeous pink and blue cookies with a silver trim and writing in the middle. She picked one up.

I love

you, Beth

“Oh my god.”

With shaking fingers, she lifted a blue cookie.

Let’s be

gin again,

again.

Beth dropped the cookie back into the box. It shattered onto its brothers, but that didn’t matter—there were at least a dozen more. Beth shifted through the box reading‘I love you, Beth’and‘let’s be gin again, again’on cookie after cookie. She wanted to call him, wanted to run. Wanted to at least laugh at the gin typo. But her brain was frozen stiff with possibilities. She both knew and couldn’t begin to think about what this meant. She put one of the broken pieces of cookie in her mouth, tasting vanilla and sugar. With a rush, she knew why Byron had sent the cookies.

A few weeks ago, they’d done a Sex and the City marathon. Beth owned all the seasons and they’d lain in bed watching her favourite episodes on her phone. Byron, like many men she’d known, got into the show almost instantly, though he kept pointing out Steve looked like Sid the Sloth from Ice Age. Eventually, Beth played him the episode where Samantha dyed her pubic hair—a personal highlight. It was the one where Dr Robert Leeds gave Miranda a cookie with ‘I love you’ on it. Byron was extremely amused by this. “What kind of melon says they love someone on a biscuit?”

“I like it,” Beth told him. “He probably knows she likes cookies. And it’s creative.”

“You need to be creative when you tell someone you love them?”

“No, but it’s appreciated.”

Byron had smirked. “You’re only saying that because you think he’s hot.”

“Maybe, but what has Steve ever done except whine about having one testicle?”

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