Handle Me with Care Read Free Page B

‘It’s a lemon drizzle, freshly baked this morning,’ she added when he set down his toolbox.
    ‘You’re a star. Now tell me, is it better than the birthday cake?’
    She scrunched up her nose. ‘I didn’t complain too much about that as your mother arranged it from a caterer, but next time I want Maddie’s number.’
    ‘Don’t we all?’ He had known it wouldn’t be long before Jem mentioned Maddie.
    ‘You know, I could’ve sworn she’d jump at the chance to go out with you.’ She cut a slice of cake for Evan and a smaller one for herself. ‘You need a woman in your life.’ She made her point with the knife still in hand.
    He was glad he had a mouthful of cake so she couldn’t see him smirk. The lecture sounded all too familiar because the women in his family had formed a united front to get him married off. Last week it had been Holly telling him he was going to be forty and alone if he wasn’t careful; a few weeks ago his mum had taken him aside and asked him whether he had anyone serious in his life. He hadn’t prolonged the conversation with either of them because there was nothing to tell.
    ‘Don’t worry about me.’ He devoured the cake, including the final crumbs, then slipped the plate into the hot soapy water in the sink. ‘Now where do you want me to put this new painting of yours?’
    Once Jem showed him the section of wall where she wanted it hung, he said, ‘I’m glad you like it. It took me forever to think of something for you.’ He rummaged through the toolbox to find a spirit level. ‘What do you buy the girl who has everything?’
    When Jem laughed it was like music to his ears, always had been.
    ‘Where did you find the painting?’ she asked.
    He tapped his nose. ‘Let’s just say that your friend Stan tipped me off.’ He’d found it in an unassuming tiny gallery not far from Melbourne’s Central Business District, but he would never have known it was there had it not been for the covert detective phase prior to her birthday.
    ‘Well it’s bright and colourful. Exactly what I wanted.’
    Evan pencilled marks on the wall and used the spirit level to get the position of the hooks just right before he assembled the electric drill and pushed in the correct attachment.
    After he lifted the painting into position, he stood back alongside Jem to admire the scene of Melbourne’s Brighton Beach bathing boxes sitting proudly on golden sands. Although they remained as they did over one hundred years ago, licensees often differentiated the boxes by painting them different colours, or by adding their own design. In this painting, one bathing box had the Australian flag painted on its door; another had a mermaid; others were an array of banana yellows, turquoise, baby blues and pillar box reds.
    ‘It reminds me of some good family times,’ said Jem. ‘Grandad Bernie and I used to watch you play in the ocean for hours, and then we’d all bundle into our little bathing box when the sun got too much, or when the summer rain started, and we’d play cards. Do you remember?’
    ‘Of course I do.’ He hugged her. ‘I must say thank you to Stan when I next see him.’
    ‘He’s home from hospital now.’
    ‘Stan?’ Evan shooed away Jem’s offer to sweep up the debris and crouched down with dustpan and brush in hand.
    ‘He had a growth removed from his leg. He was lucky, mind.’
    ‘Why’s that?’ Evan ran the brush along the ridge of the skirting board and knocked the dust he had created with his handiwork into the pan.
    ‘The lump turned out to be nothing, but it could have easily been worse. Getting older you have to be careful of these things. I’ve always been good at getting myself checked. You know, women’s checks.’
    ‘Yeah, I don’t need the details.’
    ‘All I’m saying, Evan, is that it’s better to be careful, and you need to act quickly if anything is amiss.’
    He wondered whether Jem really did have a sixth sense when it came to knowing things about