Page 128 of Begin Again Again

She disconnected the call, leaving Beth with more questions than answers. On one hand it was guaranteed money in a job she already understood. On the other hand, it meant another year of pushing paper and pretending it important. Not to mention Glenda’s nagging, soon to be in person.

Beth sat on Mrs J’s couch. Was she selfish or insane? Who got given a free pass like this and still felt disappointed? Her laptop pinged, Caroline sending the link to the application. Beth stared at the email, her arms heavy at her sides.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket—someone else was calling her. Relieved, she pulled it out. It was Mrs J.

“Hey, Mrs J. How’s the holiday going?”

“Hello?Hello?” It sounded like Mrs J was calling from the middle of a wind tunnel. “Bethany? My housesitter? Can you hear me?”

“Hi, Mrs J. I can hear you.”

“Bethany?Bethany?”

“Yes!It’s me!” Beth noticed her volume creeping up, and actively brought it down. “Can you hear me?”

“Of course, I can,” Mrs J snapped, the line suddenly clear. “I’m fine. How are you? How are the cats?”

Beth looked at the windowsill and saw Muffin and Pizza sleeping in a patchwork tangle. “Great. They’re napping.”

“That’s good. Look, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m cutting my trip short. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”

Beth’s heart sank. “I—sure. How soon do you need me out?”

“Well presumably, by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Right. That checks out.”

“I’m sorry. But I can’t stay here any longer.”

Despite her mounting panic, Beth felt a stab of curiosity. Mrs J was visiting her daughter. Had they had a falling out?

“Bethany?”

“Hello. I’m still here. That’s no problem. I’ll…” Jesus, whatwasshe going to do? “… go to an Airbnb or something. I’ll figure it out.”

Then it hit her—she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t go back to New Zealand even if she wanted to. She was stuck in Melbourne, where her options were; pay for emergency accommodation or door-step Lara and beg forgiveness.

There was a strained silence.

“I’m sorry to do this,” Mrs J said. “I appreciate you moving in at such short notice but there’s no way around this.”

A lump rose in Beth’s throat. “I understand. Thanks for letting me housesit for you. I’ve been really happy here this past month.”

“Oh, that’s ah, no problem. See you tomorrow.”

The line disconnected and Beth kept her phone to her ear. What the fuck was she going to do? She’d rather saw off her arm than ask Lara to move back in, but an Airbnb would be so expensive. Her mind flashed to Byron’s house. His giant bed.

“No fucking way,” she muttered. She paced to the kitchen where her chicken thighs waited patiently in buttermilk—the special dinner she was making for her new boyfriend. She and Byron were really clicking as a couple—she’d be crazy to suggest they move in together. And yet, hadn’t he suggested that they bunker down if Melbourne went back into lockdown? Weren’t they spending every night together anyway?

That’s not the same thing.

Beth strode back to the living room. There was nothing for it. She’d have to apply for the job Caroline offered and get a cheap Airbnb in the meantime. Hopefully, when she got the departmental liaison role, she’d be able to afford a studio apartment. Her phone vibrated in her hand. Another call.

“Oh my god, what is this day?”

It was an unknown number. Beth wanted to let it go to voicemail but knew it might be one of the jobs she’d applied for. “Hello?”

“Hey, handsome.”

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