After the Fall by Kylie Ladd Page B

something like that again.

LUKE
•
    A hospital cafeteria looks like a hospital cafeteria, no matter how many streamers and balloons you festoon the place with. Plastic tables were covered with rented linen tablecloths, their white washed out to gray, faint wine stains still evident in places. On the bulletin board the usual advertisements for roommates and announcements of flu injections had been removed, replaced for the evening by a hand-lettered team score sheet. The blackboard listing specials of the day had been left in one corner, Friday’s menu still evident: corned beef, silver beet, creamed cauliflower. I lost my appetite just reading it.
    “This place looks okay. They’ve done a good job,” said Tim.
    “It was kind of you to come. I hope you enjoy yourself,” replied Cress distractedly, peering around the room in an attempt to identify our table.
    “I don’t know why they couldn’t have just hired a function center like anyone else. Even that room at the Town Hall last year was better,” I grumbled.
    “It’s meant to be a fund-raiser, Luke,” said Cressida, turning to address me. “Just imagine how much money has been saved by having it at the hospital. I think it’s a great idea.” Her tone was dismissive and agitated at the same time. She was wearing something tight and black, and above it her creamy shoulders bobbed in indignation as she spoke.
    “Can I get you a drink?” asked Tim, intervening quickly. Conflict frightens him.
    “No, I’ll go,” said Cress. “There’s some people over there I want to talk to.” She indicated vaguely and disappeared into the crowd, pale blond hair splashing around her.
    “Everything okay?” asked Tim.
    “Just fine.” I shrugged. Actually, things had been surprisingly fine in the last few weeks, the events of the wedding seemingly put behind us. It was only tonight that I’d noticed a shift in Cress: taking forever to get ready, snapping at me when I’d asked her who would be there. I scanned the gathering now as Tim and I made our way to the table.
    The room was filling up. Their uniforms shed, brightly clad bodies dotted the hall like spilled confetti. The tired linoleum floor, unacquainted with stilettos, dimpled and puckered beneath the onslaught, while on the tiny stage someone was checking the sound equipment, repeating, “One, two,” over and over for little apparent result. A nurse I recognized flashed me a dazzling smile, her lips redder and larger than nature intended. I pointed her out to Tim.
    “There’s one for you. I could give you an introduction.”
    “Mate, if you already know her, then it’s too late for me.” He laughed.
    I ignored the comment and returned my gaze to the floor. In the distance Cress’s fair head was nodding earnestly as she spoke with her boss. A part of my mind registered how beautiful she looked; then my eyes moved on. I guess I was searching for Kate, though not with intent. Even if she was there, what did it matter? I could hardly talk to her, wouldn’t know what to say anyway. A sudden burst of feedback from the sound system momentarily silenced the throng, leaving in its wake one pure moment of silence before the babble resumed.

KATE
•
    I was introducing Joan to Steve when the shriek of static made me clap my hands to my ears. Neither of them was looking particularly impressed, and I was tempted to give up there and then, melting into the crowd before anyone could protest. I hadn’t wanted to come anyway, never mind broker this ridiculous blind date. Only loyalty to Cary had induced me to go through with both. That, and I owed him.
    I’d spotted Luke as soon as we arrived. I hadn’t meant to look for him, but my eyes were drawn to the golden corona of his hair, blazing like the sun against a sea of dark suits. He was standing with his back to me, flanked by Tim and Cressida, her own pale locks sleek against formal black. As I watched he bent his head to hear what she was saying. I felt ill and