The House At the End of the Street

by Jennie Jones

  ‘Don’t you look different,’ Mrs Tam said, giving Gem the once-over. Mrs Tam sat on a bar stool in the restaurant, legs crossed at the ankle, feet about thirty centimetres off the ground.

  Gem fingered the pile of silver bangles on her wrist and wondered if she’d be able to transcend the nerves in her stomach. Josh was standing at the table of speed-daters. ‘Why is he here?’ she asked Mrs Tam.

  ‘Looking for a hot date, I expect,’ Mrs Tam said.

  Given his frown and his mulish body language—hands stuffed deep into his pockets, wide shoulders drawn back, his chin aimed at the ground but his beautiful brown eyes scouring the group, Josh looked more like he was waiting for a fight to start.

  Gem scanned the women in the group. Three were ordinary looking, like Gem, although not wearing so many colours. Two were beautiful, if you went for the catwalk look and one … Uh-oh. A five-foot-two butterfly wearing a floral dress all shades of pink—a butterfly tottering up to the love of Gem’s life on red, four-inch mankillers.

  Josh looked down at the butterfly, still frowning. She said something. Josh’s eyebrows rose, then he smiled. A big, hearty smile.

  ‘Oh, please!’ Surely he wasn’t falling for the butterfly?

  ‘Off you go, dear,’ Mrs Tam said, shoving Gem at the small of her back. ‘We’re about to kick this party off. I’m hoping to have the best fun.’ Then she took hold of Gem’s jumper, stalling her. ‘Do you think everything’s going to work, Gemma dear? I do hope so. I’ve got my heart set on love and romance.’

  Gem turned to Mrs Tam, pulled her shoulders back, then yanked the neck of her jumper over her shoulder. It kept falling down, which was what it was supposed to do, but Gem didn’t like the sensation of bare skin. It was bad enough she was wearing a skirt. ‘Of course it’s going to work, Mrs Tam. Like a dream.’ Like the flu. ‘I’ll bet there’ll be another wedding.’ Or a bar fight.

  Ted coughed and took up his committee-chairman pose: chest inflated, frown in place. ‘Ladies and gents,’ he said into a mic that squealed feedback. ‘Thank you all for participating in our speed-dating night. There’ll be lots of fun, lots of opportunities to get to know each other—wink wink—and the hoped-for outcome, of course: a date.’

  Gem winced. This was going to be excruciating.

  ‘And if love blooms, all the better. This is the way it’s going to work.’ Ted coughed into the mic and the crowd in Kookaburra’s winced visibly. ‘Sorry,’ Ted said. ‘Right. You’ve each got a number,’ he told the speed-daters. ‘There’s a chair around the table with your number on it. That’s your starting position … Oops. Forgot the cymbal. Won’t be a moment.’ Ted left the mic and headed for a suitcase in the corner of the restaurant area.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Jess said as she came up beside Gem.

  ‘No.’ Gem scowled at her. ‘Remind me why I’m doing this.’

  ‘Mrs Tam,’ Jess said, shaking her head and showing pity for Gem’s bad humour. ‘It’s for her happiness.’

  ‘She can take my place,’ Gem said, unhappiness sweeping over her because Josh was looking at her and probably comparing her unfavourably with the butterfly.

  ‘But Mrs Tam isn’t looking for a date,’ Jess said.

  ‘Neither am I! I’m here to even out the numbers and nothing more.’

  ‘What are you wearing?’ Jillian Tillman said, coming up on the other side of Gem.

  Now she was trapped. She’d been considering doing a runner, although her three-inch-heeled boots would impede any speedy getaway. How had the butterfly got here in her mankillers? ‘I wasn’t sure what colours to wear,’ she told the twins. ‘It’s important to get your colours right. Psychology and all that.’ That’s what the butterfly had done—all that pink swathed around her suggesting sweet compliance for any man who wanted to get delusional for an hour or two.

  ‘You’re wearing every colour on the chart,’ Jillian said. ‘You’re likely to end up confusing people.’

  ‘And yourself,’ Jess added. She nudged Gem. ‘Off you go. Don’t forget to put your happy face on.’

  Josh eyed the group. Fourteen speed-daters. He took his gaze beyond the restaurant area, which had been set up for the occasion, to the hordes of Swallow’s Fall townspeople who’d turned up for the fun. Ethan and Sammy, Dan and Charlotte, and Lily and Nick were all here. No kids though. The evening had been arranged for a late start. Every babysitting teenager in the surrounding thirty kilometres had been roped in. This was an adults-only event, Ted had told him.

  It was going to be excruciating.

  Dan smirked. Josh ignored him. He’d hoped to get a chance to have a quick word with the guys and let them know he was only doing this for Ted, and for the protection of Gem and the other women around the table.

  Ethan waved, grabbing Josh’s attention. ‘What are you doing here?’ he mouthed, pointing at Josh but too far away to be heard over the music playing.

  Josh shrugged.

  ‘Remember what we spoke about,’ Ted said in a lowered voice, suddenly by Josh’s side.

  ‘I don’t see anyone around this table who looks like they’re ready for a fight,’ Josh said. The six guys standing at the date table looked like ordinary, hard-working men. And bozo Dave was up at the bar.

  Ted sniffed. ‘I only know two of ’em. They’re workmen on the new estate. The others are from the wind farm project. I interviewed them when they requested a place and they seemed alright, but you never know.’

  Josh nodded at the cymbal in Ted’s hand. ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘It’s Mrs Tam’s love-clanger.’

  ‘What the hell’s that?’

  Ted straightened. ‘You’ll find out once I get back to the mic.’ He nudged Josh’s arm. ‘What about the women?’ he asked. ‘Any of ’em taken your fancy already?’

  ‘I’m not here for real, Ted,’ Josh said with patience. ‘I’m here to protect, remember?’

  ‘But while you’re here, my boy, you might as well get a hot date. If you can.’

  If he could? The woman with breasts overflowing in the pink dress had just asked if Josh wanted to nip out to her car afterwards and have sex.

  ‘I’m not currently looking for a date,’ he told Ted as his eyes focussed once more on Gem. ‘I’m here to keep an eye on Gem, aren’t I?’ She looked like a rhapsody. She wore a skirt, which was a first. It stopped just above her knee, showing off her bare, toned legs and yellow high-heeled boots. She’d topped the tube skirt with a woollen jumper containing all the colours of the rainbow. It was too big for her, the neckline falling off one pearly skinned and tempting shoulder. Josh wanted to bury his hands in the tangle of her platinum hair and his face against her throat. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to think about politely enquiring whether she’d care to go out to his car and have sex.

  ‘Well it’s not going to work if you don’t get into the spirit of things,’ Ted said, and made his way to the jukebox, where the mic awaited him.

  Josh pulled his bad mood into line. He hadn’t been himself all week. He certainly hadn’t been his changed self earlier in the week when he’d asked Gem to take a walk with him. Shit, she’d looked good in the moonlight. Thank God she’d refused. You’re not staying! Don’t mess with her.

  He waved at Sammy, who blew him a kiss. ‘Good luck,’ she mouthed.

  Great. They thought he was doing this for real.

  ‘Right then,’ Ted began, up at the mic. ‘When you hear the cymbal clang and the music begin—you’re off! The men move clockwise around the table, the women anti-clockwise and when the cymbal clangs and the music ends—you sit. You’ve got one minute to chat and get to know each other.’

  It sounded more like musical chairs. Josh sighed, then smiled at the pushy minx with the big breasts who was fanning her face with her hand and making suggestive eyes at Josh. He winked at her. Might as well take some enjoyment from his humiliation.

  ‘Take your places,’ Ted commanded.

  Josh walked up to the ta
ble, looking for lucky number thirteen. Right at the end, opposite … Gem. He grinned at her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a hushed tone barely hiding her … Well, hell. Her nerves. She looked nervous. Josh laughed. He’d never seen Gem nervous.

  ‘Believe it or not, I’m here to keep an eye on you. Why are you here? I thought nobody wanted to date you.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Some of the guys.’

  ‘Which guys?’ she asked. She looked at the men at the bar, drinks in hand, waiting for the fun to start.

  Josh stifled his grin. ‘Don’t worry about them,’ he said. ‘But why are you here?’

  ‘I was roped into it. To even out the numbers.’

  Shit. Gem was speed-dater number fourteen. She’d been roped in after Josh had been told by Ted that she was already doing it. His bad humour flared but he didn’t have time to contemplate the various knots he’d use when he tied up Ted and drowned him. Mrs Tam clashed the cymbal and the music started.

  ‘Move,’ the girl at his side told him, shoving him from behind the chair.

  Gem did her best to put on her happy face. The music swelled in volume, then stopped. She scrabbled for a chair that wasn’t the one opposite Josh. But then the music started again and she had no choice but to continue around the table. When it stopped, Gem didn’t have time to bump the competitors along and she got stuck opposite Josh.

  She scowled at him as her insides tumbled at the sight of all his loveliness, and sat. ‘We’ve got one minute,’ she told him. ‘Talk.’

  ‘I’m too frightened to talk. You’re scaring the life out of me with the look on your face.’

  ‘We’ve both been roped into this for a reason. Mrs Tam’s happiness is at stake. Now talk.’

  ‘Where’s your tattoo?’

  ‘What?’ Gem pulled at her jumper, yanking it over her bare shoulder. The bracelets rattled on her arm.

  He nodded at her shoulder. ‘It’s not there, so where did you put it?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Go on,’ he said, smirking. ‘You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’

  He had a tattoo? ‘Where’s yours?’ she asked.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re repeating yourself, Gem. Everything alright?’

  ‘I want to see your tattoos.’

  ‘Are you asking me on a date?’

  ‘Are you stupid?’

  The clash of the cymbal halted any decent answer she might have got.

  A full minute walking round the table until she got to sit again. ‘So where’s the ink?’ she demanded, glad now that she’d got the spot opposite Josh because there was a lot she wanted to ask. ‘What did you mean when you said I wouldn’t get a date?’

  Josh grinned, then shrugged. ‘Just guy talk, you know.’

  ‘No, I don’t know. Who’s been saying stuff about me?’

  ‘I’ll give you a tip, Gem. If you want to date a guy, you’ve got to be nice. Especially if you want him to kiss you.’

  ‘I am nice. I’m always nice, and stop bringing up the issue we said we wouldn’t talk about. I’m not going to stand for it.’

  ‘Well I suppose I could kiss you lying down just as easy.’

  As on a bed? Together? ‘Are you looking for a date?’ she asked.

  He leaned back in his chair, his fingertips in his jeans pockets. ‘I’ve already got a date. If I want it.’

  ‘Who’d be mad enough to want to date you?’

  He leaned forwards, looked down the table and winked at the butterfly.

  Gem drummed her fingers on the table. ‘So predictable.’

  ‘Isn’t she just?’ Josh said, smiling at Gem. ‘Pushy little minx, actually.’

  So he didn’t see the manipulating butterfly—he’d clocked the significant stack and was breast infatuated.

  ‘I could get a date if I wanted one,’ Gem said. ‘But I’m only doing this to help out.’

  Josh raised an eyebrow and glanced down the table again. ‘You won’t get a date with any of these guys. Not with that scowl.’

  Clang! Gem got up before Josh, and moved swiftly. Shit, now she had to prove that she could get a date. She trudged around the table.

  Ten seconds later she was seated opposite Mark, a guy who’d asked her out last year.

  ‘Will you go out with me?’ she asked. No point beating about, she only had sixty seconds to get this deal done.

  ‘No way,’ Mark said, then crossed his arms on the table and glanced at the butterfly.

  ‘Why not?’ Gem asked, getting his attention back by tapping the back of his hand.

  ‘I’ve asked you out five times,’ he said, ‘and it’s been a negative each time.’

  ‘Haven’t you heard the old adage: A woman can change her mind if she wants to.’

  ‘Sorry, Gem. I’m going to ask someone from around this table. And you know what? I bet she’ll be really nice. And normal.’

  ‘Are you suggesting I’m abnormal?’

  ‘It’s your temper, Gemma.’

  ‘I haven’t got a temper! I’ve got spirit.’ What was it with some guys? ‘I’m nice,’ she reiterated. ‘I’m very nice. Lots of guys think I’m nice.’

  ‘So why haven’t you been out with any of us? Rumour is you haven’t kissed anyone for seven years.’

  ‘Seven? Who spread that rumour? I get kissed all the time. Guys stop me in the street, begging me to kiss them.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Well there y’go. You’re choosy. Who are you saving yourself for?’ he asked, once more checking out the butterfly.

  Gem yanked the neckline of her jumper over her shoulder and sighed. She’d lost a date opportunity because she didn’t kiss enough. She glanced at her watch. Six seconds to go.

  ‘I was roped into this,’ Mark said suddenly. ‘But it’s actually good fun.’

  Gem looked around the table. Had they all been roped into it?

  The cymbal clashed and off they went. Gem clocked the rest of the men around the table. Which one would date her?

  ‘Told you you’d never get a date with that look on your face,’ Josh said, indicating Mark as he sat opposite her.

  ‘What look?’

  ‘Your scowl.’

  The music started. ‘Jesus, that was quick,’ Josh said, looking around.

  Mrs Tam was still on a bar stool, swinging her legs in time to the music; the cymbal in her hand, a nonchalant smile on her face. At least she looked happy, Gem thought, as she stood and followed the parade around the table.

  Next stop, Gem was opposite one of the guys from the housing estate. He’d asked her out last year too.

  ‘Will you go out with me, Jeremy?’

  He reddened from the neck up. ‘Well, Gem, I like you and all that but, you know—you said no twice before and I think you actually might be too much for me. I don’t do half as much exercise as you do.’

  ‘I don’t mean for real. I mean pretend.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There are a lot of guys here who think I’m not the kissing type. Which is ridiculous, because guys ask me to kiss them all the time and I kiss hundreds of them, if I’m in the mood.’

  Interest sparked in his eyes and he leaned across the table. ‘What would we be doing on these dates?’

  ‘Not what you’re thinking. We’ll have a few drinks at the bar. Maybe hold hands. You can tell me jokes or something.’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘I’ll pay my own way.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And I’ll give you forty dollars per date.’

  The music started and Jeremy stood, eyeing the butterfly. ‘Can I get back to you later?’ he asked. Gem trailed around the table. Still no date.

  Next stop … Uh-oh. Gem glanced at Mrs Tam, who was quietening the cymbal clash by strumming her fingers along its edge. Was she doing this on purpose?

 
‘Got your date yet?’ Josh asked as he sat.

  ‘Two guys are interested, but they’re concerned about how much I love kissing. They’re jealous before we’ve even dated, so I don’t think I’ll go out with them after all.’

  ‘You can’t get a date, can you?’

  Gem looked away from him and fiddled with her bangles. ‘This is interminable. Shouldn’t the music have started by now?’

  ‘Perhaps they’re giving us longer to get to know each other. Now that we’ve been around the table twenty times. What shall we talk about?’

  Gem threw him a withering look. ‘Where’ve you been the last ten years?’ She turned her contemptuous smile into a challenge.

  ‘I’ve been sailing.’

  Her jaw dropped. He’d answered her.

  ‘You joined the navy?’

  He laughed. ‘No. I skippered yachts around the world for millionaires. Sometimes with them, mostly without.’ He pulled his mouth into a cynical grin. ‘Millionaires like to fly to their fancy locations. Their yachts are toys for weekend parties.’

  ‘Wow.’ That’s where he’d got the tan of all tans. ‘Did they have their own jet planes too?’

  ‘Some of them.’

  ‘Did you rob one of them?’

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because you’re in trouble or something.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  Damn the cymbal. Gem stood and trudged around the table, keeping an eye on Josh. She glanced at Mrs Tam, who was smiling happily and watching Gem. Gem cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. She indicated Josh by waving her hand. If Mrs Tam had powers of perception, she’d clang that cymbal when Gem was opposite Josh.

  Yes!

  Gem got pushed by the girl next to her. She stared at the butterfly, who was beaming at Josh, then shoved the butterfly back to the place she’d been dealt and grabbed the chair opposite Josh. The chair she’d been dealt.