The Reluctant Wag by Mary Costello Page A

driver’s shoulder and began to fussily arrange her tiny evening bag and the folds of her skirt.
    ‘Nervous?’ he asked in a surprisingly gentle voice.
    ‘No . . . yes, I mean, I’m a bit worried about getting out of the car. It’s so hard to look elegant when you’re trying not to trip on ten metres of train.’
    ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Everything you do is elegant – and I’ll come round and stand in front of the door until you get organised.’
    Merise thought he might be joking, but when a few minutes later the car pulled up at the entrance, he was as good as his word.
    ‘I’ll get the door,’ he said to the driver as he stepped out of the car. Seconds later he opened the door for Merise, blocking her view of the casino and everyone’s view of her.
    She carefully swung her legs to her left, as Bev had taught her to do, and stood up slowly, allowing her dress to fall into place.
    ‘Nicely done,’ he said encouragingly as he offered his arm. She laid her small hand on it and felt instantly better. He was so calm, so reassuring as he stood looking down at her, no hint of censure in his eyes, and she gave him a radiant smile – a smile that was for him, not the cameras.
    Then he stood aside and the world rushed in. A score of photographers moved forward as they stepped on to the red carpet that led into the dazzling, cavernous foyer. Merise had an overwhelming impression of light – from the dozens of camera flashes as well as the thousands of golden bulbs glowing on the casino walls and ceiling. She recoiled for a split second from all that glare, then felt his arm go around her waist as he guided her forward. His body was so warm and solid, she wanted to just disappear into his shoulder.
    ‘Just take it slowly and smile,’ he whispered into her ear. And the next moment they were advancing as the photographers snapped and a crowd of fans called out to Cal. He smiled easily, keeping one arm around her and waving with the other. She loved the feeling of his arm about her. She loved the hardness of his body touching hers. It was as if he was transferring something of his strength and energy to her. He was born to do this. The scrutiny didn’t trouble him. He seemed comfortable, self-assured, and in total control – as usual.
    Merise just kept looking straight ahead. The fans hadn’t come to see her – apart from her dress – and she didn’t want to trip over anything. Up ahead she could see a press of gorgeously clad and coiffed women, some posing for photographers beside illuminated pools of water that spilled over platforms of black marble, others being interviewed on the red carpet by one of the camera crews. But as she and Cal came forward, one by one the journalists and cameramen turned, spotted them and started moving in their direction.
    ‘Brace yourself,’ he murmured, and she straightened her shoulders just a little, lifted her head and put on the widest, sweetest smile she could muster.
    ‘Cal! Over here!’ A tuxedo-clad man waving a microphone was bearing down on them. ‘Can you do a quick interview for Channel Nine?’
    ‘Sure, no worries,’ Cal responded in a reassuringly relaxed voice.
    A second later, a young woman dressed in an emerald-green gown appeared in front of them, stuck a mic under her nose and said, ‘I’m here on the red carpet with Yarraside captain, Cal McCoy, and his lovely companion, Merise Merrick.’
    Merise smiled dutifully. ‘His lovely companion’ indeed!
    ‘Merise, you look absolutely magnificent. Who dressed you this evening?’
    Now the mic was under Merise’s nose. ‘It’s a Carelle Magee gown,’ Merise said in a clear voice. ‘Carelle is undoubtedly one of Australia’s finest young designers. It’s a lovely dress, but also very comfortable to wear.’ She had to say something.
    The presenter look surprised. Probably didn’t expect that I could string three words together, Merise thought.
    ‘And how are you enjoying your experience