“You’ve really thrown me a curve ball,” he said. “I had steeled myself for selling this place, and then you come along and turn everything upside down. I can’t decide whether you’re heaven sent or a devil in disguise.”
“Huh.” Annie smiled to herself as she recalled that she had used almost the exact same words to describe John. She pierced another marshmallow and thrust it into the fire. “Not one for spontaneity, are you?”
“There’s a fine line between impulsiveness and recklessness,” said John. “In the past my spontaneity led to trouble, so I trained myself to be more measured; fewer people get hurt that way.”
Annie didn’t delve. John had alluded to his troubled past earlier, and he appeared to be very much carrying the weight of it on his shoulders still.
“It’s going to take me a bit of time to get the money together anyway,” said Annie, in a bid to show she wasn’t trying to give him the hard sell. “And I am yet to fully convince my husband that I’m absolutely not going back to him.”
“Are you sure there’s no possibility?”
“I have never been surer of anything in my life.”
“That’s quite sure, then. I looked you up, you know.”
“Of course you did.”
“Your restaurant has an excellent reputation. Are you ready to give it all up? You could work something out with your husband whereby you buy him out instead. Make him leave.”
“I need a new challenge,” said Annie. “That portion of my life is over. I’d been wanting a change for a long time, but it was always easier to remain in the status quo.”
“The rock band?”
Annie grinned and shoved him. John’s chair tipped but didn’t topple.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling. “Couldn’t resist.”
“Try,” said Annie.
“So, you were sticking with the devil you know . . .” John said, leaving the sentence for her to finish.
“And then my husband unwittingly gave me the shock I needed to break free.”
“My aunt told me about the Keep Calm and Carry On cushion. That’s rough. I’m sorry; really, I am. No one deserves to stumble on that,” he said.
Annie laughed and realized that for the first time since it had happened, she actually did find it funny: mortifying but funny.
“I will never be able to look at that phrase again without cringing,” said Annie. “And have you noticed how it’s on bloody everything? Mugs, tea towels, notebooks . . . I am forever destined to be reminded that my husband’s mistress had better tits than me.”
Now it was John’s turn to laugh, a deep and rumbling laugh that somehow fitted with the wildness of their surroundings.
“Mari said she bet the government of 1939 could never have foreseen that their rousing slogan would be used in such a disrespectful manner,” said John.
“No,” said Annie. “I’m sure they didn’t.” They were both laughing now. It felt nice.
“For what it’s worth, I think he’s a fool.”
Annie’s heart skipped, and it was a heroic effort not to gaze into John’s eyes and lose herself. “Well, you know all about the hideous demise of my marriage,” she said breezily. “I think that entitles me to know something about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Have you and Celeste’s mum been separated long?”
“Years,” said John. “I used to drink. A lot. Especially after my mum died, but quite a bit before that too. When I met Dee, Celeste’s mum, I was partying pretty hard, which was fine at the time because she was partying hard too. But then Celeste came along, and I realized I had to sort myself out before I turned into my father.”
“So you stopped drinking?”
“Yes. I underwent what counselors would call a lifestyle change; Dee called it a personality bypass. She could go out and get wasted and then not drink for a fortnight, whereas I was all or nothing. I either drank or I didn’t; there was no middle ground. That’s not conducive to a stable environment for a baby.”
“Are you an alcoholic?” Annie asked.
“No. But I had potential.”
“So no more parties,” said Annie.
“No more parties,” John agreed. “Unfortunately, Dee had fallen for party John. Sober John was a lot less fun; like I said, I was all or nothing back then. I didn’t want to drink, and I didn’t like being around people who did. Dee and I split up when Celeste was about four years old. It was amicable. I had a lot of shit to reconcile, and she knew that.”