EASTER SATURDAY

MORNING

Although he had slept only fitfully, Tommy woke early. He had an idea that he hoped would redeem him after last night's confusing ending. He had been a fool, and a coward. Even as he sat in the cab and watched her, he could have changed his mind. He could tell Barbara was holding back tears. He feared that she thought even though she had made overtures, he was not interested in her beyond friendship. Tommy imagined she felt embarrassed and angry, but she could not be more wrong, he loved her. Last night was the first time that thought had settled comfortably on him; the first time he had believed in the possibility of love above the certainty of friendship. Now, he regretted not telling the cab to stop and racing back to her, instead of allowing the driver to whisk him away. All his arguments about honour felt hollow. He had simply been too scared to be wrong.

Tommy showered and dressed quickly. On the internet, he had found a boutique off Bond Street that had most of what he needed. Despite the light flurries of snow, Tommy walked to burn off energy and keep his mind off his guilt. It took him just under thirty minutes, and he arrived about ten minutes before it opened. The shop was quaint, a Dickensian throwback to a century long past. Its timber-front had a large bay window. Snow had accumulated at the base of each pane adding to the magic. A wonderful aroma seeped from underneath the heavy timber door which was painted in a brilliant red. Tommy sighed wishing Barbara was with him.

He emerged from the shop an hour later. He could not walk home as he planned. Ignoring the sniggers and raised eyebrows of strangers, he struggled to Bond Street where he hoped to hail a cab.

Barbara's flat was squeaky clean. The dishes were washed and stacked, the lounge room vacuumed and the rubbish taken to the communal bin in the back lane. She glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o'clock. She was surprised she had not had a text or a call from Tommy thanking her for the day. An hour ago she had been angry; now she was mildly concerned. Even though he had fled at her invitation to stay, his breeding would have ensured he thanked her for the meal.

She sat and looked at her phone. Maybe he had food poisoning? Unlikely - she ate the same food and was fine. Maybe he had gone home and finished a bottle of single malt? That was much more his style. He was probably nursing the mother of all hangovers. That gave her some satisfaction. Barbara had tossed and turned in misery all night and now feared that her invitation to stay had abhorred him so much that he did not dare contact her. She vacillated between mortification and anger. How dare he think that she had suggested anything more than staying on her sofa? Even she had no idea what she had been suggesting. She had intended to take his lead. Fleeing in terror was not one of the responses she had predicted.

She picked up the phone.

When his phone rang, Tommy could not reach it before it went to voicemail. He cursed, earning a stern look in the rearview mirror from his Sikh cab driver. He glared back. "Just drive."

Barbara threw her phone onto the sofa. "You don't even have the courage to talk to me. Bastard!"

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled slowly and deeply. She let out their breath in a long, high-pitched snarl. Twleve times she repeated it until she began to feel calmer.

Ding dong, dong ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, dong, ding, ding dong. Ding dong, dong ding, ding, ding...

"Alright! Who bloody died? I'm coming."

Barbara expected it to be Mr Liddie, the jovial but impatient Irishman from three doors up. Every year he brought her flowers at Christmas and Easter. She swung open the door and stopped dead in her track. She stared at the sight before her. A six-foot pink rabbit in a light blue waistcoat stared back at her. One ear stood upright but the left one flopped over almost covering the rabbit's eye. Its belly was swollen. Actually, Barbara thought it looked pregnant. She glanced down the see Tommy's brogues sticking out from under the rabbit's feet.

"What the hell?"

"Happy Easter, Barbara. I know it's only Saturday and the Easter Bunny usually comes on Sunday, but where was I going to put her?"

She noticed the hand around the rabbit's throat when Tommy held out the life-sized rabbit. "Er... agh... Maybe you should bring your friend inside."

Barbara stood back as Tommy steered the huge stuffed toy into her lounge room. He stood holding it with a huge grin on his face. "This is Jemima."

"Jemima? Isn't the Easter Bunny a boy?"

"Then he wouldn't have eggs?"

"Rabbit's don't lay eggs, Sir, as you damned well know." Barbara was fighting her urge to instantly forgive him. He would have to at least try to apologise.

"True," he replied with an awkward laugh, "she came with that name, but I selected her contents."

"Contents?"

"There's a zipper near her bellybutton. Under the coat. Just pull it up."

Tommy held up the legs of the rabbit expectantly. Barbara was curious, and although she had no intention of telling him, a little excited. She carefully unzipped Jemima. Inside she could feel Easter eggs. The frost around her heart melted a little more. She pulled a giant gold-wrapped egg from the stomach. Underneath the sign saying 2.5 kg, she noticed the sticker proudly displaying the maker's royal warrant. The egg would have cost him a fortune. "Is this your idea of an apology?"

"Yes," he said with a smile. "No."

"That's definitive."

"I am sorry about the way we parted. I want to talk about that too, but that's not why I bought Jemima. Well, not entirely. As soon as you said last night that you had not received eggs in years, I thought I would redress that."

Barbara put the egg carefully on her table. "By weight, it seems."

"There's more," he said sheepishly.

"More what? Apology?"

"Eggs."

Barbara carefully felt around inside Jemima. She found a total of 26 eggs of different flavours as well as four rolls of beautifully wrapped pralines. "Tommy, I can't accept all these."

He looked hurt. "Why not?"

"Apart from the weight gain, heart attack and diabetes?"

He grinned at her. "I guess I got a little carried away. You don't have to eat them all today."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, that is a relief."

"And I could always help."

"I'm sure you think you can."

He hung his head. "Are you saying we're not friends anymore?"

"Don't turn this on me. We're not five remember. We don't stop being friends because of one fight. Arguing has never stopped us before, so I don't see why it would now."

He looked relieved. "No, it shouldn't. It hasn't. It won't."

She shook her head. For an articulate man he was inept at discussing anything personal. "You fled here last night as if you were being chased by a swarm of carnivorous bees. Then you ignore my call before turning up with a massive rabbit and half the world's chocolate supply. What am I supposed to think?"

"I'm sorry."

"About what exactly? I don't even know what happened. One minute we are watching TV and everything seemed fine. All I said was that I was that you were welcome to stay here and you flew into some sort of panic." She raised herself to her full height and glared at him.

"I didn't panic," he said evenly, "I didn't want you to think that I had... expectations."

"Expectations of what?"

"Sleeping..." He paused.

"You didn't want me to think you had expectations of sleeping? Are you saying my couch is too uncomfortable? You could have just said that. You could have had my bed." Barbara watched his face turn darker and darker.

"I thought you might think I assumed your invitation had been to share your bed."

"I never said that."

Tommy looked down. "I know. But..."

Barbara was not going to let him off without giving her a clear statement about what he wanted from their friendship. "But what, Tommy?"

"You didn't say it was the couch either."

"Right, so instead of checking, you just upped and ran away?"

"No. It wasn't like that."

"Yes. Yes, it was."

"I kept hoping you would ask me to stay."

Barbara's heart began to race. "Why would I when you were trying so hard to escape?"

"I didn't. I thought my kiss might give you the hint that I wanted to stay. I hoped you'd ask me not to go."

"I thought you were trying to let me down gently. I felt... humiliated."

"No! Were you? I'm sorry." He moved closer. "I was trying to be a gentleman, but even if I had started on the couch, I wasn't sure I would stay there."

Now Barbara went red and looked down. "Why not?"

"Because I wanted to... be with you."

"Hmmph."

"Don't humph. Is that such a surprise?" he asked quietly. Tommy moved so he was right in front of her. "What I don't know is whether you wanted that too."

"I don't know what I wanted. I just wanted you to stay."

Tommy stroked her arm. "That's a start."

"I need... to think."

"Do you want me to go?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Good." Tommy picked up an egg from the table and held it out to her. "Chocolate is good for thinking. Am I forgiven?"

Barbara took it then looked at the array on her table. "You think turning up here with all that and trying to buy my favour makes everything all right?"

"I wasn't trying to buy your forgiveness. I was trying to show I care. Deeply. Incredibly deeply."

"They have a word for incredibly deep care. Don't you think it says everything that neither of us can use it?"

"No. Because words are hollow. Over the years... we've shown we care. We care in so many ways that most people can't even comprehend. But lately it's been changing. And it scares me as much as it excites me. I feel like I am groping around in the dark. I care for you in ways I've never cared for anyone. I'm scared I will rush you, overwhelm you, and ruin it all."

Barbara had a lump in her throat. "Soppy bugger."

"Soppy?"

"Yeah, soppy. That's the... loveliest thing anyone ever said to me."

Tommy put his arms over her shoulders. He rested his forehead against hers. "So where do we go from here?"

Barbara moved back and looked up at him. "The zoo."

"The zoo?"

She laughed at his expression. "Yeah. I want to take up your invitation and go to the zoo."

"Not what I expected, but yeah, sure. Why not?"