"Wake up, sleepyhead." Strong fingers grip my shoulder gently and I feel myself being shaken from my deep slumber. I mumble, wondering who the hell is waking me up, as I roll over onto my back. I crack open my eyes to find Alex staring back at me, and it feels a little like déjà vu as he looks at me with that same expression he had on the plane.

"Argh, what time is it?" I ask, running a hand through my hair.

"Just after one. Thought you might be hungry." Alex responds, just as my stomach lets out a grumble, making us both laugh.

"You thought right," I say. "Yeah, food would be good."

"Come on. I thought we could eat down at the grill by the pool. There should be a bit of a breeze and you won't catch too much sun." I glance down at my shoulders and can see the smattering of freckles coming through where the sun caught me earlier.
We make our way down through the hotel and find a free table at the grill. I watch the people splashing around in the water and make a note to dig out my costume later and come back for a swim; the water looks sublime. The service is brisk and in no time at all, I am sipping on a wonderfully cool mango smoothie whilst Alex drinks a bottle of beer. We chat softly as Alex fills me in a little about the history of Perth while we wait for our food. When it arrives I dig into my club sandwich with delight.

"I love watching you eat," Alex says suddenly, and all at once I feel very self-conscious. I feel my face go red and I have no idea what he means by that. "What I mean," he clarifies, seeing my confusion, "is that you enjoy your food. So many women just order food and then push it around the plate, barely tasting anything. Yet you eat each mouthful like it is the best thing you have ever tasted. Like you might never get to eat it again."

I can feel my cheeks glowing with my shame, but I realise I have nothing to lose by telling the truth. "That's because this food is divine compared to what I normally eat. And usually, I don't know when I am going to eat next." My words are soft and I can see Alex doesn't understand. "Every penny I made went towards my mother's care and sometimes there just wasn't enough for me. So sometimes I survived on bread and soup and noodles." I can't meet Alex's eyes, so I stare at the floor fixedly instead. "And sometimes there wasn't even enough for that, so I would have to sell something just so I could pay the rent and there wouldn't be enough for food at all."

A finger hooks under my chin, forcing me to look up into Alex's stormy grey eyes. There is no pity, just compassion, and I feel Alex's thumb stroke my cheek. "It's going to be okay, Liv," Alex promises. "You will never go back to that, okay?" I just nod, not really knowing what else to say, while I blink away the tears forming in my eyes. I am definitely not telling him that I am already saving for when I have to leave in a year's time so that I don't have to experience the ache of a hungry belly again.

"Right, what do you want to do this afternoon?" Alex asks, swiftly changing the subject.

I take the distraction gratefully. "I would love to just have a wander around, get a feel for the place if that's okay? And maybe go to the beach…though I have no idea how far away that is. Wait, we don't have a car…" I trail off at my presumption. Maybe all Alex wanted to do was lie by the pool.

"That's not a problem. I have a hire car being delivered here in the next hour so we can go for a bit of a drive…see some sights and then head to the beach later. Does that sound okay?" Alex suggests.

"Awesome," I say, borrowing the word that the Aussies seem to use every five minutes.

Alex gives me a grin, stealing one of my fries as I protest loudly. I finish off my meal and sigh contently. Just then, I hear a chime and Alex looks down at his phone. "Good, the car is here. Did you want to grab some stuff from the room and we can head out?"

"Sounds good to me," I respond.

Back in the room I grab my swimming costume and towel, along with my factor thirty sun cream, and shove them in a bag before picking up my handbag and stuffing in my sunglasses and purse. I meet Alex down in the lobby and take his arm as he guides me out to the hire car. I am not exactly sure what make it is, but it is some kind of high-end 4x4. When I climb inside, it is blissfully cool, making me wonder how people survive without air conditioning in this part of the world.

With the assuredness of someone who has lived somewhere his whole life, Alex takes me on a tour of his city. I marvel at the stories he tells me of his childhood and how things have changed. He takes me to his favourite places, a lot of which seem to be drive-through food places where we grab the most amazing fresh doughnuts I have ever tasted, and he even manages to persuade me to try this iced coffee frappe thing. I thought it was going to be disgusting, but it was sweet and creamy and probably filled with like a million calories. Yeah, I loved it.

All set with our sugar and caffeine fix, Alex tells me we are going to head down to Fremantle. The name rings a bell and I dig out the guidebook that I threw in my bag at the last minute. I read out random facts and soon I have Alex laughing at me for being a complete tourist. The trip takes a good couple of hours, making a giant loop that brings us back from Fremantle via South Perth and then into the city itself. I will never forget the view as we came round on the freeway with the river to the side and in front of us and the city off to our right…just breath-taking. We exit the city taking a detour through the botanical gardens, which are nothing like I have ever seen, and then drive out through the suburbs to City Beach.

"This is the best fish and chips you will ever taste," Alex promises me, indicating to the restaurant in front of us. "Let's hit the beach first and then we'll grab some dinner later."

"Cool," I say. "I am not really up for swimming, though, if that's okay?" Truth be told, I am a bit scared of sharks but don't want to admit that to Alex and seem like a complete wuss.

"That's cool…you can just dip your feet in if you want," Alex replies, a knowing smile on his face.

The sun is a bit lower in the sky now that it is late afternoon, and as we trudge down the sand towards the water's edge, the light shimmers off the water, forcing me to don my sunglasses. I bravely pop my bare foot out, waiting to experience the chill of the water, like you would in the UK. But instead of bone-numbingly freezing, the water is cool and pleasant and I almost wish that I hadn't left my costume in the car. I don't know how long we stand there, both staring out into the ocean, but eventually, Alex starts to fidget and suggests we head up to the fish place, Clancy's.

We make our way back up the dunes and round to the entrance, where I brush the sand from my feet and slip on my flip-flops, or thongs as Alex called them. We are shown to a table out on the deck and I can't help but feel like this is the life. Why Aussies want to live in rainy old England when they can have this beats me. Alex and I sit side by side, looking out over the water as we sip our drinks. I noticed the subtle raised brow once again when I ordered only a juice, but Alex doesn't push it. I order the barramundi on Alex's recommendation and Alex orders the hoki, both types of fish are completely foreign to me, but I am looking forward to trying them out. We chat amicably until our food arrives and then there is almost complete silence as we taste our meals.

I groan in appreciation at the taste explosion in my mouth, and Alex chuckles next to me. "Good?" he asks.

"Hmm, yum," I respond, taking another bite. Seriously, I have never tasted anything like this and I am not sure I ever will again. We munch through the rest of our meal as we watch the sun slip down closer and closer to the horizon. When at last we are finished, even too stuffed for dessert, Alex suggests just hanging out on the sand to watch the sunset.

We wander down onto the sand again and find a spot. I lean my head against Alex's arm and, almost reflexively, he winds it around me and draws me into his side. The feel of him is so foreign, yet completely familiar, and I simply enjoy sitting as we listen to the waves crashing on the shore. I am so completely lost in my thoughts that I don't even realise that Alex has asked me a question until I feel him nudge me.

"Why don't you drink?" Alex asks softly, his expression searching.

Something about this man seems to compel the truth out of me and I find myself telling Alex things I have never shared with anyone. "My dad," I begin. "Well, he had a bit of a problem with drink, mostly wine actually. He would come home from work and start with a glass, 'to relax' he would say, and then that would turn into a bottle or two. Some nights he would fall asleep in front of the TV, but most nights he would get angry and abusive. Mostly it was just verbal, but every once in a while he would lash out at my mother." I can feel that Alex's posture has gone rigid and I can feel the anger rolling off of him.

"The night after my thirteenth birthday, he got completely trashed. I think it was because he had lost this account at work and had been called into his boss’s office and given a warning. I was going out to a disco with my friends and was about to leave the house when he called me into the front room. He went off on one about how I looked like a slut with my makeup on and how boys were only after one thing. He tried shoving me back towards the stairs to go clean my face and I, in my stupid teenage bravery, told him that I could go out how I liked. I wasn't even wearing much, and my mum had already seen me and said it was fine, so I wasn't about to let him spoil my night. That's when he hit me. He slapped me across the face so hard they thought he had broken my nose. All I really remember is, afterwards, he leant into me, breathing horrible wine fumes into my face, and told me that I was a slut just like my mother and that I had it coming."

"The fucker," Alex says quietly, but I don't look up at him, concentrating on the sun setting on the horizon instead.

"I think that was the last straw. My mother threw him out, threatening him that she would press charges if he came near us again. And that was the last I ever heard from him. After that, it was just me and my mother until…" I trail off trying to hold back the emotions I have desperately kept locked inside all these years.

"So when did your mother get diagnosed?" Of course, Alex knows what's wrong with her—he has paid for her treatment after all, I think to myself.

"After my dad left, things were good for a while. Mum and I were really close, but sometimes it seemed more like I was taking care of her rather than the other way round. She was becoming more and more forgetful, living her life by lists, and I was constantly checking that things were turned off. When I was trying to decide what university to go to, I made sure I only chose those in London so that I could still live at home.

"All that time she still managed to work, so financially things were okay, but her boss noticed that her behaviour was getting a little erratic. I was in my second year when I got a call to say she had flipped out on a customer. I think her boss knew something was up with her, but he hadn't wanted to get rid of her. But that day was the last straw, so he called me.

"I managed to get her to see a doctor, but as she was only forty-two, they were reluctant to label her with Alzheimer's. It took me a year of pushing to get a diagnosis, and although it was the worst-case scenario, the relief at finally having an answer was huge."

I am lost in my head as I tell my story; the relief of being able to talk to someone about everything is unreal. "Life carried on, I managed to get my degree and, as luck would have it, I managed to walk into a curatorial role at the London Museum. The money sucked, but I loved my job and for a while things were good. Mum had a carer coming in to check on her, so I knew she was okay during the day. But things got progressively worse, so I then had to get her into a home. At first, the money I made was enough, but as the level of care she needed had to be increased, so did the cost, and in the end, I had no choice but to sell the house to pay for her care. That lasted a few years, and at least I knew she was getting the best care possible.

"Then, about five years ago, she stopped recognising me. I think that was actually the worst day of my life," I say, unaware that tears are running down my face. "And it has been downhill ever since. Eventually, my salary was not enough, so I found the job with Charles and left the museum…and the rest you know." For the first time, I turn my head to look up at Alex and I see him regarding me with a dark expression. He reaches across and wipes the tears from beneath my eyes as I take in a deep breath.

"Well, I am here now," Alex states firmly, though his tone is soft. "You are not alone, and you don't have to worry about money again." I go to retort that he will be around for only a year, but I clamp my mouth shut, not wanting to ruin the moment. Instead, I lean my head into Alex's neck and watch the sun completely disappear into the horizon.

Eventually, Alex suggests that we head back to the hotel, and as I get to my feet I realise how tired I am. I barely manage to keep my eyes open through our journey, and when we get back to the suite, I dive into the shower for a quick wash before climbing in between the crisp sheets.