was pulled up into his signature man-bun and he looked unseasonably tanned, thanks to a recent gig for some surf brand in Sydney. His modelling jobs easily paid the rent, but cooking was his real passion, and he was saving to get enough to open his own place – a small bar specializing in craft beers and Hawaiian food.
She pushed herself up to a sitting position and crossed her legs, feeling none of Elise’s urge to untuck her black trousers from her purple socks.
‘I thought you were seeing Ivan tonight?’
‘Yeah, so did he. But Hanna had an emergency at work, so I had to stay late.’
‘Again?’ Tove lamented. She took a serious interest in the state of Bell’s love life, which she proclaimed as being ‘dire’. ‘That’s how many times you’ve blown him out now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘More times than you’ve seen him, for sure.’
‘Well, it couldn’t be avoided this time.’
‘And why couldn’t Max deal with it?’
‘Because he’s pitching for a big deal with a client, and he’s got some fancy dinner set up for tonight.’
‘So yet again, you have to pick up the pieces?’ Tove sighed, tutting. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how you think you can ever get your life back on track when you’re constantly putting yourself second.’
Bell met Kris’s eyes as she took a swig of her beer. They both knew Tove meant well; it was just that she had the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
‘So, what made your day so tough, then?’ Kris asked, rescuing her as he moved about their kitchenette. The apartment was largely open-plan, with an old eighties pine kitchen spread against the back wall and delineated from the sofas and table area by a marble-effect linoleum counter.
‘Well, if I tell you, do you promise to keep it to yourself?’
It was a rhetorical question to one of her friends, and Kris gave one of his easy shrugs in reply. He wasn’t big on rumour and innuendo; he’d been on the wrong end of it too many times. Tove dramatically drew a cross above her heart, and then kissed her fingers.
Bell rested her elbows on her knees, as though an approximation of the lotus position was going to give her any more peace. Her topknot flopped limply to one side of her head, but she ignored it. ‘So, I took a phone call today –’
Instantly Tove began clapping and kicking out her long legs. ‘Yes! Yes! I knew you could do it! Didn’t I say?’
Kris shook his head with a weary, wry grin as he shook the pan again.
Bell gave her the bird, and a sarcastic smile. ‘It was some doctor asking for Hanna. She said it was urgent, and gave me a message – but it made no sense, right? Like, none at all.’
Tove nodded impatiently, whirling her hands in a ‘get on with it’ motion, puffing more smoke towards the ceiling pendant.
‘Only, I couldn’t get hold of Hanna all day – like I said, she had a client emergency of her own going on. I wasn’t that worried about it, because I really figured they must have had the wrong number, or the wrong Hanna, at least, because her message made no sense.’ She took a swig of her beer. ‘But then, when Hanna got back this evening . . .’
Kris, tossing the peppers to let them char on the other side, watched her, waiting. Unlike Tove – ever impatient and restless – he understood that she had to run it through in her mind again exactly as it had happened, in case there had been a mistake . . . She looked straight up at him. ‘It turns out that before she was with Max, Hanna was married to some other guy.’
Kris frowned. ‘Did we know that?’
‘Nope. He’s never been mentioned. There’s no photos of the dude anywhere.’
‘Oooh, a secret husband – how fabulous!’ Tove said, lifting one endless leg into the air. Bell always joked that her legs were like strings with knots in them, but they both knew she was just jealous. If Tove was lean and lanky – with a tendency towards elegance in her more mature moments – Bell was rounded and, in Tove’s words, ‘juicy’. Five foot four but with a figure like a cello, she had curves where Tove had straight lines.
‘Well, he was secret for a reason. Apparently the poor guy’s spent the past seven years in a coma.’
Kris stopped what he was doing. Tove’s leg swung down, and her arm dangled off the side of