Read Online Can You Keep a Secret? by Caroline Overington - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caroline Overington
Tags: australia
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I’m not coming to New York because it’s your birthday. I’m coming because it’s winter here, and there’s absolutely nothing to do.’
‘So, you’re basically telling me you’re bored,’ said Colby, ‘and you want me to entertain you?’
They were on opposite ends of the phone again, at opposite ends of the world. Colby had flown home after his week in Townsville in October 2000 and now he was coming good on a promise – made while drunk on tequila at the Townsville Hotel one night – to fly Caitlin to Manhattan in 2001, so she could see where he lived.
‘No,’ said Caitlin, ‘I’m only coming because you keep saying how much you miss me.’
‘I do miss you. I can’t wait to see you.’
‘True story?’
‘True story.’
And it was a true story: Colby was looking forward toseeing Caitlin again. He had picked up the cost of her ticket to Manhattan, and he was going to put her up for six weeks, all of which surprised him. He told Robert as much, saying, ‘I don’t want to put a label on it, but I do like being around her.’
‘You better watch it,’ Robert said, ‘next thing you’ll be telling me you’re ready to settle down.’
Colby laughed. Caitlin was cute, and shagging her was fun, but Colby wasn’t ready to settle down. He wouldn’t have told Caitlin this, but he was still seeing other women. A little under a year earlier, Colby had bought his first apartment and, upon picking up the key, he’d immediately paid somebody to transform it into a bachelor pad for him.
‘You can’t do it yourself,’ Robert had said, ‘you’ve got to get a gay guy, somebody who understands fabric weight and scatter cushions and all that shit.’
‘But the look I want isn’t smooth,’ said Colby. ‘I don’t want a girl thinking, “I could live here.” I want a place that says, “No woman has ever, or will ever, live here. This is a bachelor pad, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”’
He found a designer who specialised in cool pads for finance guys. She hadn’t been anything particularly special to look at – she’d turned up in leggings, a faded T-shirt and ballet flats, carrying colour swatches and an HB pencil – but she took measurements and opened curtains and then, six weeks later, she’d come back with a truck and five Hispanic labourers to carry cardboard boxes down the ramp.
Colby made himself scarce, saying, ‘I think I’m in the way here.’ By the time he got home, the apartment wasunrecognisable, in ways he wouldn’t have predicted. The linen was slate-grey. The towels were plump and charcoal-coloured. He had a new leather sofa, and a bed even wider than king size, for which he’d have to have sheets custom-made.
‘You like?’ the designer asked.
‘I like!’ said Colby.
‘You should try it,’ she said of the bed, pressing a hand into the mattress. Colby shot her a look and they broke in the bed, there and then, and there hadn’t been much down time for that bed ever since.
Now Caitlin was coming for six weeks. That was longer than Colby had ever lived with anyone, except his college roommate.
‘It makes me nervous,’ Caitlin said.
‘What does? Staying with me, or the flight?’
‘Not the flight. But what if I get lost at the airport?’
‘You can’t get lost at the airport. There are signs everywhere, and there are people to help you.’
‘What if I get on the wrong plane?’
‘You can’t get on the wrong plane. You’ll have a boarding pass, and you can’t get on the wrong plane with that boarding pass.’
‘What if I lose the boarding pass?’
‘They’ll give you another one.’
‘What do I do when I land? Are you going to pick me up from the airport?’
‘Me?’ Colby laughed. ‘No. I don’t have a car. But don’t worry, I’ll send one for you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s what people do here. There will be a man standing in the arrivals hall with a sign with your name on it. All you need to do is go up
‘So, you’re basically telling me you’re bored,’ said Colby, ‘and you want me to entertain you?’
They were on opposite ends of the phone again, at opposite ends of the world. Colby had flown home after his week in Townsville in October 2000 and now he was coming good on a promise – made while drunk on tequila at the Townsville Hotel one night – to fly Caitlin to Manhattan in 2001, so she could see where he lived.
‘No,’ said Caitlin, ‘I’m only coming because you keep saying how much you miss me.’
‘I do miss you. I can’t wait to see you.’
‘True story?’
‘True story.’
And it was a true story: Colby was looking forward toseeing Caitlin again. He had picked up the cost of her ticket to Manhattan, and he was going to put her up for six weeks, all of which surprised him. He told Robert as much, saying, ‘I don’t want to put a label on it, but I do like being around her.’
‘You better watch it,’ Robert said, ‘next thing you’ll be telling me you’re ready to settle down.’
Colby laughed. Caitlin was cute, and shagging her was fun, but Colby wasn’t ready to settle down. He wouldn’t have told Caitlin this, but he was still seeing other women. A little under a year earlier, Colby had bought his first apartment and, upon picking up the key, he’d immediately paid somebody to transform it into a bachelor pad for him.
‘You can’t do it yourself,’ Robert had said, ‘you’ve got to get a gay guy, somebody who understands fabric weight and scatter cushions and all that shit.’
‘But the look I want isn’t smooth,’ said Colby. ‘I don’t want a girl thinking, “I could live here.” I want a place that says, “No woman has ever, or will ever, live here. This is a bachelor pad, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”’
He found a designer who specialised in cool pads for finance guys. She hadn’t been anything particularly special to look at – she’d turned up in leggings, a faded T-shirt and ballet flats, carrying colour swatches and an HB pencil – but she took measurements and opened curtains and then, six weeks later, she’d come back with a truck and five Hispanic labourers to carry cardboard boxes down the ramp.
Colby made himself scarce, saying, ‘I think I’m in the way here.’ By the time he got home, the apartment wasunrecognisable, in ways he wouldn’t have predicted. The linen was slate-grey. The towels were plump and charcoal-coloured. He had a new leather sofa, and a bed even wider than king size, for which he’d have to have sheets custom-made.
‘You like?’ the designer asked.
‘I like!’ said Colby.
‘You should try it,’ she said of the bed, pressing a hand into the mattress. Colby shot her a look and they broke in the bed, there and then, and there hadn’t been much down time for that bed ever since.
Now Caitlin was coming for six weeks. That was longer than Colby had ever lived with anyone, except his college roommate.
‘It makes me nervous,’ Caitlin said.
‘What does? Staying with me, or the flight?’
‘Not the flight. But what if I get lost at the airport?’
‘You can’t get lost at the airport. There are signs everywhere, and there are people to help you.’
‘What if I get on the wrong plane?’
‘You can’t get on the wrong plane. You’ll have a boarding pass, and you can’t get on the wrong plane with that boarding pass.’
‘What if I lose the boarding pass?’
‘They’ll give you another one.’
‘What do I do when I land? Are you going to pick me up from the airport?’
‘Me?’ Colby laughed. ‘No. I don’t have a car. But don’t worry, I’ll send one for you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s what people do here. There will be a man standing in the arrivals hall with a sign with your name on it. All you need to do is go up
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