What Alice Forgot - Liane Moriarty [114]
Luke stretched out his long legs and leaned back on his elbows. “Oh, wow, it must be coming up to three years now. You and Gina were, like, maybe my second-ever clients. Bloody hell, she made me laugh in the beginning. Remember the fuss she made whenever we did the stairs down at the park? Not the stairs, Luke, anything but the stairs. She got pretty good, though. You both got so fit.” He stopped talking and Alice realized with a start that he was trying not to cry.
“Sorry,” he said in a muffled voice. “It’s just that I never knew anyone who died before. It sort of freaks me out. Every time I come over to train you, I think of her. I mean, obviously you miss her so much more than me. Probably sounds stupid.”
“I don’t remember her,” said Alice.
Luke looked at her, shocked. “You don’t remember Gina?”
“No. I mean—I know she used to be my friend. And I know she’s dead.”
“Wow.” He seemed lost for words. Finally he came up with one. “Freaky.”
Alice stretched her neck from side to side. She felt a strong desire to eat or drink something quite specific, except she couldn’t work out what it was. Frankly, it was making her feel quite irritable.
“Luke,” she said snappishly. “Did I ever talk to you about Nick?”
If she was paying him one hundred dollars for a chat, she might as well gather some useful information.
He smiled, revealing chunky white teeth. He was a walking multivitamin advertisement. “You and Gina were always trying to get the male perspective from me on your marriage problems. I’d say, ‘Hey, girls, I’m outnumbered here!’ ”
“Yes,” said Alice. She was surprised at just how very, very irritable she was feeling. “It’s just that I don’t remember why Nick and I are splitting up.”
“Oh,” said Luke. He flipped over on his stomach and started doing push-ups on the top veranda step. “I remember once you said that in the end your divorce all came down to one thing. I went home and told my girlfriend that night. I knew she’d be interested.”
He put one arm behind his back and started doing his push-ups on one hand. Was that really necessary?
“So . . .” said Alice, as he switched arms with a grunt. “What was that one thing?”
“I can’t remember.” He flipped back over and grinned at the expression on Alice’s face. “You want me to call her?”
“Could you?”
He pulled out a mobile phone from his pocket and pushed a button.
“Hey, babe. Yeah, no, nothing’s wrong. I’m just with a client. Do you remember I told you that lady said her divorce was caused by one thing? Yeah, no, I just want to know, what was that one thing?”
He listened.
“Really? You’re sure? Okay. Love ya.”
He hung up and looked at Alice. “Lack of sleep.”
“Lack of sleep,” repeated Alice. “That doesn’t make much sense.”
“No, that’s what my girlfriend said, but I remember Gina seemed to understand.”
Alice sighed and scratched the side of her face. She was sick of hearing about Gina. “I’m feeling really grumpy. I need chocolate or . . . something.”
“You probably need to see your dealer,” said Luke.
“My dealer?” What next? Was she a drug addict? Did she drop the kids off at school and then go home and snort a few lines of cocaine? She must be! How else did she know this drug-addict sort of terminology, like “snort a few lines”?
“The coffee shop. Your body is screaming for a flat white.”
“But I don’t drink coffee,” said Alice.
“You’re a caffeine junkie,” said Luke. “I never see you without a takeaway coffee in your hand.”
“I haven’t had a coffee since my accident.”
“Have you had a headache?”
“Well, yes, but I thought that was the injury.”
“It was probably the caffeine withdrawal as well. This might be a good opportunity to give it up. I’ve been trying to get you to cut back for ages.”
“No,” said Alice, because now the desire she’d been feeling had a label. She could smell coffee beans. She could taste it. She wanted it right now. “Do you know where I get my coffee?”
“Sure. Dino’s. According to you, they do the best coffee in Sydney.”
Alice looked at him blankly.
“Next to the cinema. On the highway.”
“Right.” Alice stood up. “Well,