by Emily Forbes
He couldn’t, however, resist just one kiss.
He stepped towards her and met her in the shallows. He slid his arm around her waist. Her skin was damp and cool and smooth. He bent his head and kissed her.
He needed to keep it brief; he was only wearing a pair of swim shorts—there wasn’t much to keep him decent.
‘Are you worried someone will see you?’ she asked as his lips left hers.
He noticed she didn’t say ‘us’ and he knew she was thinking of him being stalked by the paparazzi, but he really didn’t care. Not today. Not now.
‘No one knows we’re here,’ he told her, including her with him. ‘No one is expecting to see me.’ He was wearing a baseball cap, more out of habit than for a disguise, but it had the added advantage that it shaded his eyes. He knew they were his most identifying feature. He had booked into the hotel under an alias and as far as he knew no one had been tipped off. He supposed the airline staff could have said something if they’d recognised him, but their plane tickets had been booked using the same corporate card and the plane had been tiny—twenty seats at most—and no one knew where they were headed once it had landed in Adelaide. He was confident they could go undetected. He had to admit, while he courted the paparazzi in LA, as it was important to keep them on side, it was refreshing to be incognito. It was a novelty to be able to pretend he had a normal life even if he suspected he’d grow tired and bored of normal after a while. But, for the moment, if it meant he could hold Kat in his arms on a public beach and be left alone he was all for that.
He kissed her again for good measure before taking her hand. He picked up one of their towels from the warm sand and wrapped it around her shoulders, hugging her close as he dried her back. The sun was low over the horizon now, turning the sky pink and gold, and he had plans to sip champagne on their balcony as they watched it set.
He took her hand and walked along the beach, leaving footprints in the soft sand by the water’s edge. The tide was on its way out, the moats around the sandcastles were emptying and the beach was starting to empty too as families thought about getting home to feed their kids. There was still a group of teenagers jumping off the jetty into the sea. They stopped temporarily if the lifeguards or police turned up before they were at it again. Oliver thought it looked like fun and it was exactly the sort of thing he would have done in his youth too, but he didn’t tell Kat that. He knew she liked to abide by the rules.
They walked into the shade underneath the jetty and as they emerged from the other side he heard a woman screaming. Her English was heavily accented and her distress was making her hard to understand, but when he looked in the direction she was pointing, into the distance, into the waves, out past a rocky outcrop, he thought he could see a head bobbing in the water and being taken out to sea with the outgoing tide.
The lifeguard station was empty, unmanned at this time of day, although the surf lifesaving club was still open. But, even so, he and Kat were the closest people.
Oliver didn’t hesitate. He knocked his baseball cap from his head, let go of Kat’s hand and ran into the shallows, ignoring Kat’s cry of, ‘What are you doing?’
He splashed through the water until it was knee-deep and running became difficult. He dived into the sea and struck out around the rocks. He was a strong swimmer. He was used to the Pacific Ocean and, in comparison, the calm waters of the gulf didn’t look too difficult, although he knew it was one thing to swim in calm waters and another to try to rescue a frightened, drowning man. Maybe he should have waited for the lifeguards but that extra minute or two could be the difference between a good outcome and a bad; between life and death.
He was getting closer. He saw the man’s head disappear under the water. Oliver put his head down and kicked harder, willing himself to reach the man before it was too late.
The man was sinking.
Oliver dived down, searching underwater for the man.
He found him. He was fully clothed and wearing shoes. His eyes were closed.
Oliver came up behind him and got an arm around his chest. He was a dead weight as Oliver kicked to the surface. He hoped the man was only unconscious—surely he couldn’t have drowned that quickly?
He knew he had to keep the man on his back, facing away from him, in order to keep control of the situation. If he regained consciousness and panicked, he’d most likely drag them both under.
It seemed to take for ever to reach the surface, and Oliver was breathing heavily as he broke through the waves. It was hard work. He fitted his fingers around the man’s chin, keeping his head above water as he kicked in a side-stroke action and headed for the shore, recalling the lessons learned a lifetime ago in his summer swimming lessons as a schoolboy.
Two lifeguards appeared beside him on a board. One took the unconscious man from Oliver and dragged him onto his belly across the board.
‘He’s not breathing,’ Oliver panted.
‘Do you need a hand?’ The second lifeguard held out a hand to Oliver as the first began paddling back to the beach. They were only fifty metres from the sand. Oliver was tired but now that he wasn’t towing a ninety-kilogram dead weight he knew he’d make it. ‘I’m OK, thanks,’ he said. His pride wouldn’t let him be rescued. ‘I can swim in.’
His feet hit the sand and he stood, aware that his legs were shaky with fatigue and adrenalin, but he knew he’d be fine as long as he kept moving.
Kat was waiting on the shore. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, careful not to lean on her, even though it was tempting.
The lifeguards had started performing CPR on the rescued man and he could tell Kat was itching to help, but it wasn’t her beat.
As they reached the lifeguards the man’s chest started to move. The lifeguards quickly rolled him into the recovery position as he retched, sea water gushing from his mouth.
Bystanders had gathered, hovering around as the lifeguards called for an ambulance. Oliver was always amazed by people’s curious fascination with disaster. He understood being curious—as an actor he’d made a habit of people-watching—but sticky-beaking at a potential tragedy was a whole different level in his opinion.
The lifeguards came over and thanked him for his assistance, even though he was sure some of them would have liked to berate him for diving in without thinking.
‘You look like that actor,’ said one.
‘Oliver Harding,’ said another.
‘I get that a lot,’ Oliver replied, not giving anything away. ‘Name’s Frank.’ He stuck out his hand and shook theirs.
‘Well, we appreciate your help, mate.’
‘No worries,’ he replied in his best Australian accent.
He could feel Kat looking sideways at him. She handed him his baseball cap and said, ‘We need to get going, Frank.’
* * *
She waited until they were out of earshot from all the bystanders before she stopped walking and turned to Oliver.
‘What was that all about?’
To his credit he didn’t pretend not to know what she was asking. ‘Frank is one of my aliases.’
‘One of?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Is Oliver your real name?’
‘Yes. Oliver James Harding, at your service,’ he said with a mock bow.
‘And when did you start speaking in an Aussie accent?’
‘That’s my job. Most of the movie crew are Aussies, and I’ve been paying attention on set. It’s the best way to make people believe I am just a doppelgänger.’
‘Why do you need a fake name?’
‘I usually use it for checking into hotels, restaurants, that sort of thing. I don’t expect special treatment, so I don’t need to broadcast my movements. There’s no need to give everyone a heads up about where I’m going to be and when. The paparazzi pay people to divulge that sort of information. If I want them to know my whereabouts there are ways of ge
tting that information out to them, but if I want some privacy I need some measures to protect it. Mostly I’m happy to sign autographs or pose for photos, but I didn’t think the lifeguards needed to deal with that palaver as well. I’m not saying that all of those bystanders would have wanted selfies or whatever, but in my experience at least some of them would and that can become a bit of a circus. It wasn’t necessary and, besides, for the next couple of days I want it to just be us.’
She was more than happy for it to be just the two of them as well. She found it liberating being able to walk down the street and hold Oliver’s hand and not worry about what people might say or think. If she found it liberating, she could just imagine how Oliver must feel. He was used to his every move being scrutinised and potentially splashed across the cover of a magazine, so she could understand the appeal of hiding his true identity.
They reached the hotel and Kat stepped inside as the doorman held the door. She felt as though she should apologise as they left sandy footprints on the spotless tiled floor. She smiled to herself as she wondered what the staff in this five-star hotel thought. She wondered if they could tell that she wasn’t used to this level of luxury and attention. That she had never before stayed in a five-star, or even a four-star, hotel, had never been picked up from the airport by a chauffeur, had never slept with a Hollywood star.
‘What name did you use to book the hotel?’ She wondered if the hotel staff knew who he was.
‘The same alias—Frank Foster.’
‘How do you come up with the names? Is there a list somewhere of the top ten aliases?’
Oliver laughed. ‘No. It was the name of one of my characters, one of my favourite parts.’
‘That was the character in the movie we saw at the drive-in!’
‘It was,’ he said as he swiped the room card and held the door for her as she entered the penthouse suite. ‘Would you like first shower before dinner?’
She smiled and reached one hand behind her back. She was looking forward to the next few days, and nights, in Adelaide. She was looking forward to spending time with Oliver, just the two of them without interruptions, with no work, no family. She hadn’t hesitated when he’d asked her to come with him; she had three rostered days off and she was eager to spend more time exploring their attraction. One night in Coober Pedy hadn’t been enough and she was prepared to forget that he ‘didn’t do family’. If he was keen to spend time with her alone she was happy with that.
Her fingers found the tie for her bikini top. ‘I thought we could share,’ she said as she tugged at the string. His mouth fell open as her top fell to the floor. She walked away from him but he caught up to her before she reached the bathroom. She stretched one hand out and turned the tap for the shower. He stretched one arm out and put his hand on her waist. He slid it up her belly until he was cupping her breast.
She turned towards him and pulled him under the water.
* * *
‘What do you fancy for dinner?’ Kat asked.
She was wrapped in the thick towelling robe from the hotel and he knew she was naked underneath. They’d only just stepped out of the shower but he debated about ordering Room Service and staying in. But he’d promised himself he would take her out and show her some fun. They’d be back in their room soon enough.
‘Your choice,’ he said. He couldn’t care less what they ate. He wasn’t thinking about food.
‘I usually choose seafood when I come to the city. Fresh seafood isn’t something we get a lot of in Coober Pedy.’ She slipped the robe off as she walked into the walk-in wardrobe and Oliver wondered if it was too soon to take her to bed again.
No. He could wait. Sometimes letting the anticipation build was worth it. ‘Can you guarantee me that no one will choke on a fish bone?’
‘What do you mean?’ She emerged from the wardrobe carrying a pair of high heels and dressed in a simple black halter-neck dress that highlighted her shoulders.
‘We keep running into people who need saving. I need a rest from all that. No more blocked bile ducts, drowning men or pulling men out of mine shafts. In fact, we should just steer clear of all men for the next two days.’
Kat laughed as she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped her sandals on. She lifted one foot and rested it on her opposite knee, sliding her sandal on and fastening the strap around her slender ankle. Her dress rode up to reveal the inside of her thigh. Her legs were long and smooth and tanned. He never knew watching a woman get dressed could be as sexy as watching one undress.
‘We need to visit George tomorrow.’
Oliver swallowed and tried to focus on what she was saying as he reminded himself to behave. He didn’t want her to think that sex was all he had on his mind and that he wasn’t interested in spending time with her if she had her clothes on. ‘OK, apart from George. No more emergencies, just us.’
‘OK.’
Kat stood and leant towards the mirror that hung over the dressing table beside the bed. Her dress clung to her hips as she bent forwards. Oliver’s gaze travelled up, over the curve of her buttocks. He watched as she applied her red lipstick and it took all of his self-control to let her finish, take her hand and lead her out of their suite.
* * *
He held her hand as they walked along Jetty Road. A signboard outside a hotel caught his eye. ‘What about here? They have karaoke.’
‘Karaoke? I thought we were looking for somewhere to eat?’
‘We can do both.’
‘I don’t think karaoke places are renowned for their food,’ Kat said.
Oliver pointed to an announcement painted on the pub window. ‘It says they won “Best Pub Restaurant” last year.’
‘You really want to go to a karaoke restaurant? I thought you said you couldn’t sing.’
‘I said I wished I was a better singer. And I never said I intended to sing tonight.’
‘Well, I certainly won’t be singing,’ Kat laughed.
‘Let’s have a look at the menu and then decide. It’ll be fun.’
She knew he was all about fun and, looking at his expression, she didn’t think she could refuse him. ‘OK,’ she said as he held the door for her and they stepped inside.
‘Have a seat,’ he said as he pulled a chair out for her, ‘and I’ll get some menus.’
He returned with menus, a glass of wine for her and a beer for him. ‘Is wine OK? I can get you something else if you prefer?’
‘This is fine, thanks.’
‘What do you think?’ Oliver asked as she perused the menu.
The pub looked newly refurbished, the crowd was well-dressed and the menu looked good. Kat watched as a waitress delivered plates of food to an adjacent table. ‘The food looks good,’ she admitted, ‘I think I can maybe overlook the fact that I’ll have to listen to some karaoke.’
Oliver smiled. She could overlook anything at all if she got to sit opposite him for the evening, she decided.
‘Where did you learn to swim?’ she asked after they had ordered. He had been amazing today, jumping in without hesitation to rescue that man.
‘I live on the beach in LA. At Malibu. The swell today was nothing compared to the Pacific Ocean. I’ve always lived near water. I was born in Italy, lived in Turkey, Hawaii and Germany. All the army bases had swimming pools and we spent summer holidays around the Mediterranean. I spent a lot of my spare time in the water. What about you?’
‘I can swim but there’s no way I’d be confident enough to jump in like you did. You’ve seen where I grew up. The town has a pool, and you’ve seen the lake, but I’m not used to waves. I didn’t go out of my depth in the sea today.’
‘Can I ask you something? The lifeguards revived the man, so why did he have to go off to hospital?’
‘There is a latent risk after people take water into their lungs,’ Kat explained. ‘There’s something calle
d post-immersion syndrome, where your throat can spasm due to irritation of the vocal cords, which makes breathing difficult—that’s more common in children—and there’s also secondary drowning. If water gets into the lungs it can irritate them and cause pulmonary oedema, which is a build-up of fluid in the tiny air sacs that makes breathing difficult. He needs to be monitored, especially given his lack of English. The hospital will organise an interpreter to explain the risks and he may be discharged if they think he and his girlfriend understand what to watch for.’
‘Will he be OK?’
‘I would think so. He survived the drowning, and deaths from secondary drownings are extremely rare. At worst he might be unwell.’ Kat reached across the table and held Oliver’s hand. ‘You saved his life.’
‘A good day, then.’
‘A very good day,’ she said with a smile.
The karaoke began as they were finishing their meal, making conversation more difficult. Some of the singers were good, some were woeful, but because there was a prize at the end of the night there were plenty of participants. The winner would be decided by an audience vote.
‘Some of these people should definitely save their singing for the shower,’ Kat commented.
‘You sure you don’t want to have a go?’
‘I’m positive,’ she laughed.
‘Can you excuse me?’ Oliver said. ‘I need to use the bathroom. Will you be all right on your own for a minute?’
‘Of course, I’ll be fine.’ She loved the attention he paid her.
There was a scattered round of applause as another singer finished their song.
‘And now, one final karaoke contestant. Give it up for... Frank!’
Kat looked at the stage. Was the MC introducing Oliver? He hadn’t returned to their table yet but the stage was empty.