Kylie & Jack 1: Humble Beginnings

72. Wombats and Kookaburras

... she returned to the dining area, to find it empty and dark. A lone waitress marched quietly across the room, an empty serving tray tucked under her arm. Kylie took a gentle, uncertain step towards her and gave a small, clear nod to their deserted table.

"Excuse me ... but do you know where the man I came here with went?"

The waitress glanced towards the vacant table, turned to Kylie and said calmly, "pretty sure I saw him leave not two minutes ago,"

"L–leave?" Kylie asked, feeling a small but sharp barb of panic shoot through her, watching the young waitress closely, who nodded to the double glass doors that lead onto the patio. Kylie turned on her heel slowly, feeling a terrifying blend of curiosity and anxiety as she stepped, entranced across the room towards the patio. Meanwhile, the waitress watched Kylie head for the door on her way back to the kitchen ... and smiled.

Outside, it was pitch black and silent. High above her was a clear and starless sky; beneath her feet was dewy, green grass – it felt just as it did seven months ago when she was last here for her best friend's wedding. The patio was silent and lifeless ... she couldn't help but shiver and frown: where the hell was Jack?

Kylie was about to call out his name when she heard a soft, industrial whirring nearby. A loud click, followed by a thousand tiny buzzes of electricity sparking to life drew her attention, making her spin around – and her jaw drop.

The old, leaning tree that Kylie had stood under seven months ago, was buried under thousands of bright, silver lights, wrapped, draped and looped around its gnarled branches, looking like its canopy was made of diamonds and standing underneath it, that timeless grin on his face, hands buried in his white trouser pockets, was Jack.

Her every step haunted beautifully by music. Kylie's brain automatically tried to pick the tune, but it was too soft and with her heart in her dry throat, her eyes trained on Jack's solitary figure, highlighted under the silver tree, her mind promptly abandoned all thought.

Kylie came to a stop just beyond the circle of light: there was something hypnotic about stepping over the threshold, from the endless darkness she had just walked through alone, to pushing through into this glorious bubble of light, where Jack stood at the centre, in front of the twisted trunk of the tree. An excitable, nervous breath that had hitched in the back of her throat swept over her quivering, soft lips as she entered into the shade of silver branches. Jack glanced up into the thick canopy of light with a look of nondescript approval.

"You know, the owner told me people think the gold ones are better – even though they throw off a duller light. She reckoned the gold ones are so dull because everyone uses them and that that's why these ones are so bright. Gotta admit, think I agree with her ... I can see everything so clearly ... I can see you so clearly ..."

"Jack ..." her voice carried his name, a whisper, a wish, on the still air.

"Do you remember the last time we were here?" Jack asked her softly, still smiling, his hands still balled inside his pockets, lowering his head and tilting to the side to look at her.

"How could I forget? It was Sophie and Dean's wedding ..."

"... I walked onto the dancefloor and you fell into my arms ..."

"... Loz spun me into the crowd ..."

"... and then we danced – to this, if I remember rightly ..." Jack removed his right hand from his pocket, pointing skywards at which point, the soft tune Kylie heard earlier became steadily clearer. It was Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud ... she felt her heart flutter at the song; she closed her eyes and rolled her lips softly, remembering his hand on the small of her back as they had danced.