LITMIR.BIZ

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what this man’s life must be like. She couldn’t begin to imagine an existence that revolved around a few streets and a small suburb, moving from work to home and never venturing beyond very tightly controlled boundaries. This was an existence she had no ability to comprehend, and for a moment she realised what a privileged life she’d had. There was also a tinge of guilt that she blindly assumed that everyone had the same opportunities afforded her by fate.

      They drove slowly and in silence through the streets of Kensington, and then down into North Melbourne. Even at this early stage of the evening the street was largely empty. Amelia pulled up in front of the cafe and gave Jared a brief smile before she climbed out of the car.

      He stepped very carefully from the vehicle, as if the slightest pressure on any surface would damage it. He had to open and close the door twice before it shut with the appropriate clunk. Locking the car, Amelia gestured towards the restaurant in front of them and immediately noted Jared’s look of apprehension. Again she was touched with a sense of guilt at a pleasure she accepted too readily; her prolific frequenting of cafés at all times of the day.

      “I come here all the time,” she said, trying to assuage his nervousness. “It’s nothing special.” She eased towards the inset dark timber door, beckoning him to follow.

      Jared remained frozen next to the car. “I’m not dressed right, I can’t go in there.”

      Taking a deep breath she took a few steps back towards him, and spoke in as placating voice as she could muster. “It’s just a café, I’ve seen people come in here in shorts and singlets.” This was a lie, but it wasn’t that far off the truth; North Melbourne was a very laid back and relaxed suburb with the feeling of a country town. By gauging his expression Amelia was able to understand some of his fear. “Nobody will look at you strangely.”

      Seeming to give in, Jared followed her into the richly furnished restaurant and stood close behind her as a waiter greeted her warmly. As Amelia exchanged pleasantries with the man, she noticed the profound look of discomfort on Jared’s face, an expression that could almost be described as stricken.

      When they were shown to a table, Amelia left the spot against the back wall for Jared. He clambered into the seat clumsily, leaving his jacket on. Letting him settle for a moment, she eventually leaned forward. “Nobody’s looking at you.” She smiled warmly. “You can probably take your jacket off, it’s warm in here.”

      Without replying, Jared did exactly as he was asked, leaning forward and half shrugging, half rolling his shoulders out of the yellow coat. Underneath he wore a simple grey windcheater, with an innocuous slogan across the front, the sort you’d buy from a discount chain.

      Now that he was, in essence, trapped in front of her, Amelia had the opportunity to regard him a little more carefully. Jared had a rounded face with somewhat angular features. Hazel eyes were shrouded below pronounced brow ridges and dark eyebrows. His complexion was very pale, as if he saw the sun rarely, and his brown hair, though obviously clean and well washed, hung dispiritedly around his features.

      He had a pronounced 5 o’clock shadow, but it was late in the day. It endowed him with a menacing bearing, completely at odds with his defeated posture. Amelia couldn’t tell if he was attractive. She thought that perhaps he could be, but that would mean starting again with his whole presentation. As it stood, every decision he’d made about how he looked seemed specifically taken to make him appear as nondescript as possible.

      Her eyes drawn to his fidgeting hands, Amelia watched as his dextrous fingers, stained with glue and other residues, worried the napkin at the edge of the table. Suddenly they were still and Amelia looked up. Jared had noticed she was watching him.

      Amelia held his gaze for a moment, trying her best to appear reassuring. “It’s just coffee, nothing is going to happen. I’ll drop you off afterward, exactly where I picked you up, and you can pretend you never saw me.”

      Too agitated to respond to her sense of humour, Jared simply stared at her for an instant longer before his eyes snapped to the approaching waitress. “What can I get you?” she asked warmly. Fortunately for Jared her attention was on the familiar face of Amelia and he was spared any direct contact.

      “Latte.” Amelia looked pointedly at Jared. “What would you like?”

      He shrank down in the chair, then looked up and spoke in timid tones. “Just coffee.”

      Amelia interrupted the spate of options the waitress was about to list. “Just make it two lattes please, and a cheese platter, nothing too big, just a brie, a camembert and maybe a blue to give it a bit of a hit.” Once the woman had nodded and turned to leave, Amelia leaned a little across the table. “Are you ok with that?”

      Jared looked at her for a moment before replying in a dour tone. “I don’t know what any of that was.”

      Amelia took a deep breath, becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to set this man at ease. “Well, if you don’t like any of it you shouldn’t feel obliged to eat it.”

      There was no response, and Amelia looked out towards the street, projecting herself away from this uncomfortable situation. Silence fell at the table and Jared simply sat frozen. Annoyed at his inactivity, Amelia paused even in framing a waspish question. She was being unreasonable; he hadn't chosen to be here. It was her own fanciful idea that having found and revealed him he’d just issue forth with answers to everything she could think to ask.

      Taking a deep breath she curtailed her agitation and tried a softer approach. “Have you always been good at drawing, at creating things?”

      Jared looked at her for a moment before replying, seeming to weigh her question. Finally he shrugged. “It was always something I could do. I spend lots of time at it.”

      Frowning, Amelia continued in the same light manner. “But you don’t really draw and create. You make shoes.”

      The response was more quick this time, as he shifted position in the chair a little. “Not everything has to be out for all to see.” He looked up at her briefly.

      Amelia didn’t understand that position; she’d always seen talent as something to be used for gain in the world around her. So much of her failed marriage had been about trying to push her husband to use the talent she was sure he had. Only years later, when the betrayal was laid out for her, did she realise Ethan didn’t really have it, or rather, what she wanted wasn’t important to him. And now she continued that original path herself. That someone could have an extraordinary talent and not use it to gain security, at the very least, was beyond her.

      Amelia watched Jared intently until he began to fidget again. Part of her thought there was another Ted-like ruse being played out here, and that she’d soon uncover another layer of subterfuge. But what she was confronted with was something unexpected; it was surreal to her that this talent could be packaged in such unassuming wrapping.

      Breathing deeply, Amelia wondered how she could prompt him to talk more openly. “Do you draw what you’ve seen, or is it imagination?”

      Keeping his eyes downcast, Jared seemed to struggle with the question, and finally shrugged. “Don’t know what you mean.”

      She spread her hands. “What comes out on paper, is it put together from lots of bits of things you’ve seen or does it all come out of your head?”

      He lifted his eyes to her for a moment, something – perhaps excitement - momentarily overcoming his shyness. “I just see how things could be, what’s wrong, and what would make it better.”

      “And nobody helps you?”

      He pursed his lips. “Nobody.”

      Amelia still struggled with his answers. “If you could, would you like lots of people to see what you’ve come up with?”

      The reaction was immediate, Jared shrinking back in the chair. “No.”

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