Michelle Vernal Box Set

by Michelle Vernal

  “I meant what I said before. I really was out of line with some of the stuff I said to you yesterday,” Jennifer said, breaking away from the embrace.

  “No, not all of it, you weren’t.” Rebecca shook her head. “What you said about me was true and you got me thinking. In fact, you might have done me a favour.” She wasn’t ready to disclose the plans that were forming around the edges of her brain just yet and neither sister was prepared to broach the subject of David Seagar again.

  “You’re late back. Did you meet up with Ciaran?” Jennifer inquired, carefully keeping her tone light.

  “Uh, no. I ran a couple of errands.” She hoped her face didn’t give the falsehood away. “Ciaran’s agreed to give me a bit of space for a few days while I wrap my head around the fact he is here and what he wants me to do about it.”

  He went up a notch in Jennifer’s estimation; at least he wasn’t hounding her into making a decision.

  “Oh, look—it’s twelve twenty. Time to face the music,” Rebecca said, her eyes straying to her watch before Jennifer had a chance to drill her as to what she was going to do about him.

  Jennifer looked at her quizzically. “Do you mean to go and pick up Hannah? Because I’ll get her.”

  “No, let me go, please. I’m only here for another few days, and nobody ever greets you with as much enthusiasm as a preschooler does. Why don’t you go down and check out the Warrior Princesses and we’ll see you back here shortly? That’s if they don’t decide to make you their high priestess or something.”

  IT WAS WORSE THAN WHEN she’d been late the other day, and Rebecca wished she had let Jennifer pick her daughter up. This time there were three pairs of eyes boring into her back as she hurriedly shoved Hannah’s empty lunch box into her backpack. Deciding the best way to deal with the situation was simply to brazen it out, she took a deep breath and swung round with a cheery smile plastered firmly in place. “Has Hannah had a good morning?”

  There was a flurry of action as, embarrassed at having been caught gawping, Linda began giving the broom what-for. She swept up the remains of what appeared to be lunch while Abbey put some elbow grease into wiping the tables down. Only Anna didn’t seem flustered, smiling superciliously from over by where she was supervising a huddle of children engaged in a spot of painting.

  Ever the professional and Rebecca found herself half admiring the woman’s style as Anna informed her, “Oh yes, Hannah’s done a lot of messy play today. She especially enjoyed the clay and playdough, didn’t she, Linda?”

  Linda nearly dropped the broom, startled at having a question directed at her. She managed to point over to a table covered with bits of green and pink dough before stuttering out, “Ye-ye-yes, she’s been very creative.“

  “And yourself, Rebecca? Did you have a good morning?” Anna was almost salivating as she played the situation for all it was worth.

  “Me? I had a wonderful morning, thanks. I went and did a work-out after I dropped Hannah off here; the best one I’ve had in years. Got myself into positions I had no idea the old bod was capable of.” Then, giving a tinkly laugh, she went on. “I’ll be walking like a cowboy for at least a month!” Ha! That would sort them out, she thought and unwrapped her niece from her leg before she took her firmly by the hand to lead her out of the classroom. She left all three women agog as she casually tossed a “see you tomorrow” over her shoulder.

  Before the day care escapees made it to the car, Hannah was already yawning. This whole motherhood thing was beginning to grow on her, Rebecca realised. It felt nice to be in control for once, and one sleepy tot equalled a quiet afternoon for all of them.

  “Do you think a little rest might do you some good when we get home?” she asked once the child was safely secured in her car seat. And that was when she knew she was no longer in control. Hannah’s chin began to wobble slightly; a split second later, her face turned a blotchy red as she shrilled, “No! No rest.”

  Time for damage control. “Perhaps a choccie milk and a DVD then?”

  Hannah smiled to herself as victory was once again hers. It was child’s play, wrapping these adults around her little finger.

  Phew! Rebecca felt relieved when the car swept past the classroom and up to the house with no sign of Cuisine with Carlton’s newest arrivals lurking in the bushes. She ushered Hannah inside the house and as there was also no sign of Jennifer, she sorted her out with the promised DVD and chocolate milk.

  “Sweetie, will you be alright here if Auntie Becca goes upstairs for a few minutes? I think Mummy must be down at the cook school.”

  Hannah nodded without moving her eyes away from the big screen in front of her.

  “Good girl. I won’t be long; just shout out if you need me.” She skipped up the stairs and down the hall to her room. It was now or never.

  Flicking the light switch on, she pulled the heavy, cream-brocade curtains closed before getting down on her hands and knees to drag her suitcase out from under the bed. Unzipping it, she began rifling through, flinging the top layer of clothes to one side. She knew exactly where they were because she’d deliberately stashed them at the very bottom of her case. She’d packed them purely as a token gesture, with no intention whatsoever of wearing them. It was winter, after all, but if things with the children had gotten dire, she might have bribed them with a trip to Hanmer Hot Springs, but now, needs must. Ah-ha, there they were, rolled up neatly and still bearing the price tag. Tossing them onto the bed, she stood up to look at them, pleased with what she saw.

  The chocolate-brown contrasted nicely with the aquamarine trim, she decided, holding the bikini top up to her chest. Oh yes, I’ll fill that out nicely. Letting it fall to the ground, she tentatively picked up the bottoms before holding them up against her nether regions.

  Right—she rubbed her hands together—let’s get down to business, starting with that mirror. The straight up-and-down angle of the full-length mirror that Jennifer obviously preferred was okay if you were one of the fortunate few weighing in under sixty kilograms. For the masses who didn’t, however, it was terribly unflattering. What a pity Jen didn’t own one of those skinny mirrors like they had in the jeans shops. She smiled fondly, thinking of those floor-to-ceiling mirrors that would see you stepping out of the dressing room with a sense of foreboding, only to find a svelte size ten staring back at you. The undoubtedly skinny eighteen-year-old shop assistant would then hang up the phone on her girlfriend and come flying out from behind the counter. She would gush at how terrific the jeans looked on you while you turned this way and that, totally in love with the vision before you. So what if nine times out of ten she’d gotten home with a pair of jeans that would never see the light of day because the size ten had been a short-lived but nonetheless very happy optical illusion?

  With her tongue protruding out the corner of her mouth, Rebecca struggled to ease her sister’s rather heavy antique mirror into a more flattering position. At last, she was satisfied that it was as good as it was going to get. Pulling her jumper over her head and stepping out of her jeans, she flung her knickers and bra off, squeezed her eyes shut, and refused to look until she’d put the bikini on.

  With a deep breath, she opened her eyes, did a pirouette and threw her arms wide. “Ta-da!” Then raising her arms high, she bent them into twin arcs that met above her head as she simultaneously angled her feet outwards, heel to heel and bent down into a deep plie. Catching sight of the two centimetres growth on either side of her bikini reflected back at her in the mirror, she decided that perhaps that wasn’t such a good look, but hey, it was easily remedied. She’d be wearing a wetsuit for the best part of the day, so did it matter? She tried to picture what she’d look like in head-to-toe black rubber. “A fucking seal, that’s what.” She scowled into the mirror.

  “A what?” Melissa asked from the doorway as in one fell swoop, her eyes swept over the shut curtains and her semi-naked best friend. Flustered, Rebecca snatched up her jumper in a futile attempt to cover herself.

>   “I never heard you come in. I thought you were going to spend the day in town?”

  “Obviously,” Melissa said with an arched eyebrow. “I changed my mind.”

  “How come?” Rebecca asked, trying to distract her while she stretched her leg across to where her jeans lay and attempted to drag them over to the bed with her foot.

  Melissa took a step into the room, shrugging. “Wasn’t in the mood. But never mind that.” Melissa waved her hand impatiently. “What on earth are you up to?”

  Rebecca sighed, knowing she’d been well and truly busted. “I was checking out my togs, if you must know, for the swimming with the dolphins thing.”

  “Stand up then and give us a twirl.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. We’re all sisters here, aren’t we?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Well, come on then!”

  Reluctantly she stood up, instantly wishing she hadn’t as her friend’s mouth dropped open. “Good grief, girl! The frigging dolphins will think they’ve gone back to the Ice Age and a woolly mammoth’s after them!”

  “Thanks for that, Melissa. I was just brimming over with confidence as it was without a remark like that,” Rebecca snapped back, tracking her friend’s distracted gaze and then realising with horror what it was she had spotted. They both dove at the same time, but it was Melissa who stood up, triumphantly holding them aloft between her thumb and forefingers in a pincer-like grip.

  “And what exactly do you call these?”

  Rebecca blushed, snatching her favourite up-to-the-waist knickers out of her friend’s grip. “Comfortable, that’s what I call them.”

  “You,” Melissa wagged a bony finger at her, “are in need of some serious help, my girl. How do you ever expect to hook a man, let alone actually keep him, if you get around in knickers like those? If you’d flashed these little beauties at Ciaran the other night, he’d have hopped straight back on the plane, and you wouldn’t have this little ménage á trois dilemma of yours.”

  Rebecca shrugged rebelliously; she’d made up her mind not to let the thought of Ciaran ruin the anticipation of her date with David, but Melissa wasn’t done yet.

  “And what is with the middle-aged, Eastern European woman bikini line? Don’t give me that blank look either—you know what I’m talking about.”

  Surely, Rebecca thought with horror, she wasn’t being compared to the woman they’d seen prancing along the beach in Croatia a year or so back. She’d had a growth on either side virtually down to her knees.

  She bowed her head and took a good, long look down under. Then, with desperation written all over her face, she pleaded her case. “It’s winter! I didn’t think it would matter if I just left it.”

  Sensing she may have gone a bit too far, Melissa decided it was time to add a bit of a softener.

  “Look, babes, the togs are hot.” Then again, not too much of a softener because that simply wasn’t her style, and Rebecca would know she was lying. “What’s hanging out the side of them, unfortunately, is not.”

  “I’ll sort it out,” Rebecca said defensively. “What are you staring at?”

  “Shush, I’m thinking.” Giving her friend the head-to-toe once-over, Melissa suddenly sprang into life, barking out a plan of attack. “Right, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll book you in for a wax and a spray tan.” She pinched Rebecca’s thigh.

  “Ow! What did you do that for?”

  “That’s nothing compared to a wax job, babe. You’re going to have to get tough if you want to get beautiful. A de-fuzz and a bit of colour will improve things drastically. I’ll go and make an appointment right now.”

  In her element, she flounced importantly out of the room and Rebecca seized the opportunity to begin getting dressed. She’d just gotten one leg in her knickers when Melissa’s head bobbed back round the door. “Don’t you even think about putting those passion killers back on, Rebecca Loughton! For goodness’ sake, woman, they’re a crime against all of womankind. Have you no self-respect?” When no reply was forthcoming, she answered for her, “Obviously not because self-respect, my friend, starts with a pair of sexy knickers.”

  Suitably chastened, Rebecca bent down to have a quick rummage for another pair in her case. “Will these do?” She held up a pale blue thong and got the nod of approval. Bugger it, she groaned inwardly. She’d only worn the bloody thing once before, and she’d spent the whole day ducking around corners, trying to dislodge it. Melissa’s work, however, was temporarily done. Rebecca was about to slide back into her jeans when a thought occurred to her: she’d no doubt be seeing David again when she went to pick Ben up.

  She pulled the curtain open and peeked outside. It was quite a mild afternoon in the middle of winter; why not wow him with a skirt? Prove to him that she owned one. On the flip side, would he think it funny that she was all dressed up just to pick up Jack? Mind you, she could always say she had an appointment in town. The frown disappeared to be replaced by a little smile; after all, if Melissa came through with her salon booking, she wouldn’t be lying really.

  Yes, she’d made her mind up. It was a golden opportunity to dress to impress. If she teamed her favourite grey A-line skirt up with that fitted black cardigan she’d bought from River Island at the start of winter, she’d look hot to trot. Her knee-high boots would finish the look off nicely, and David would be none the wiser that she was off for a much-needed appointment to get her legs, and other unmentionables, waxed.

  Now, where had she put the skirt?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  AS SHE CAME DOWN THE stairs, she heard Melissa’s voice carrying from the kitchen. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a total emergency, but she’s in a bad way. Yes, yes, that’s right; like I said, it’s halfway down her thighs. I know—it’s terrible. I couldn’t believe someone could let themselves go like that. Can you? Four o’clock? She’ll be there. Thanks so much, Marina. You’re a lifesaver. Bye.”

  Hanging up the phone, she had the grace to look startled as Rebecca, who’d crept silently into the kitchen, planted herself in front of her, hands on hips. “What are you looking so aggressive for?”

  “Why don’t you take an ad out while you’re at it, Melissa?”

  “I had to make it sound bad for her to fit you in straight away; honestly, Rebecca, a little thanks now and again would go a long way. What are you all dressed up for?”

  “Yes, Rebecca, what’s the occasion?” Jennifer was poised in the doorway, Hannah perched on her hip, sucking her thumb with her head resting on her mother’s shoulder. It was then Rebecca noticed the keys dangling from her spare hand.

  “No occasion.” She lied, “I just felt like putting a skirt on, that’s all.”

  Jennifer raised a knowing eyebrow, and Melissa wisely kept out of the exchange.

  “If you say so. Oh, and I see what you mean about the new guests. They’re certainly a unique bunch, but Betty seems to have them firmly under control. I’m off to get Jack now.” She gave a rueful smile. “Maybe he’ll talk to me if it’s just the two of us. Would you mind watching Hannah for me?” Not waiting for a reply, she passed her sleepy daughter over to her sister.

  Rebecca heaved her niece onto her hip. What to do—what to do? Her plans were ruined, but she couldn’t very well make a song and dance about it. Not after what Jen had said about David; besides, she had a strong suspicion that having a chat with her son was not her only reason for picking him up. She deposited Hannah into a startled Melissa’s arms and scurried outside after her, hoping for a last-minute brainwave just as Betty appeared on the cook school’s steps.

  She waved out. “Yoo-hoo! Jennifer, can you spare a moment? I could do with a hand with the salmon.”

  Jennifer scowled; she couldn’t very well say no and turning, she reluctantly handed the keys over to Rebecca.

  Five minutes later, Rebecca pulled into the school car park. David waved as she climbed out of the Land Cruiser and, waving back, she spied J
ack dragging his school bag along the asphalt behind him. Ben, who must have been first out of his class, was already by his dad’s side. Once he saw her heading over towards them, he began pulling at his dad impatiently. “Come on, Dad; you know I’ve got karate.”

  “I won’t be more than a sec.”

  As Ben climbed into their waiting SUV, Rebecca called out to him, “No Jack? You two are normally joined at the hip.” Mustn’t have heard me, she thought with a shrug as, never even glancing up in her direction, Ben pulled his door shut.

  “He’s got karate this afternoon; can’t get there quick enough,” David explained.

  “Oh, right. I’ve heard that it’s great for teaching kids self-discipline,” she replied, trying to sound knowledgeable but he just laughed.

  “Yeah, and how to kick some ass. What about you? Where are you off to, all dressed up? Not karate by the looks of it.”

  Unconsciously she straightened, pleased he’d noticed her efforts. “No, not karate, though learning a bit of self-discipline wouldn’t do Jack any harm...” She trailed off then, realising she hadn’t answered his question. She replied mysteriously, “I’ve an appointment in town.”

  Thankfully, David wasn’t the nosy sort. “We never got round to making a date with the dolphins, did we?”

  As she opened her mouth to reply, Jack was suddenly upon them. His fingers pulled at hers, trying to pry the keys from her grip.

  “Give me the keys,” he demanded.

  “Hello to you, too, Jack; good day, was it?” When he successfully snatched the keys out of her hand, he took off at a trot. “What about saying hi to Mr Seagar?” she called after him, but he was already halfway across the car park. Embarrassed, she turned back to David. “See what I mean about needing to learn a bit of self-discipline? A few manners wouldn’t go astray either.”

  His smile was understanding, and his eyes flicked to the back of his vehicle, where his son was moodily kicking at the back of the driver’s seat. “A day out will do us both good.”