Saving Wishes (The Wishes Series)

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  Dropping the screwdriver back into the crate, I dusted off my hands. “There’s a wood here called Huon pine. It’s endemic to Tasmania. Huon trees live to be three thousand years old. They used to make boats out of it because the wood has a special oil in it that stops it rotting. The trees are protected now so they don’t log them any more. Huon pine only grows a millimetre a year. It’s hard to imagine how long it would take a big tree to grow.”

  Adam looked stunned, trading glances between the boat and me. “Charli, that means this boat is about a billion years old!”

  “I told you it was special.” Triumph saturated my voice.

  He pulled me in close. “You’re special. How could you possibly know the things you do?” he asked quietly.

  “I don’t know for sure that it’s Huon, but it might be. You may have found yourself a hidden treasure.”

  “I already knew that,” he whispered.

  ***

  The oval dining table seemed too small and intimate. I found it difficult to make eye contact with either of them and was grateful for the beautiful view of the ocean from the large window. I silently wished the last few minutes of daylight would hold just long enough to get through dinner. Staring into the darkness might have seemed a little odd.

  “The view is perfect isn’t it?” asked Gabrielle, passing a bowl of salad so perfectly arranged that it could have been mistaken for a piece of her art.

  I forced a smile. “You have the best beach. We come here a lot.”

  Gabrielle’s house was just south of the Cove. The stretch of beach below her cottage was the straightest stretch for kilometres, popular with surfers in the winter and overrun with tourists in the summer.

  “With Alex?” Her accent made her words musical. It also made it impossible to decipher her tone.

  “Yeah, mostly,” I replied casually.

  “You swim down there?” asked Adam incredulously. He stared through the window at the dark sea, blackened by the low light.

  “Of course,” I said, confused. “You like to swim too, don’t you?”

  “Sure, in a pool. A nice clean pool where you can see exactly what’s underneath you.”

  “This is one of the best surf beaches on the south coast, Adam,” I said, a little too defensively.

  “Ugh. Surfers,” groaned Gabrielle.

  I fought the urge to scream my words at her. “Do you have something against surfers?”

  “She thinks they have no sense of self-preservation. And they mess up her view. She calls them penguins,” he said, seizing the opportunity to rib her.

  “Well that’s what they remind me of,” she grumbled. “Sitting out there on their boards for hours on end, huddled in a group.” Her tone was irritated, as if the hours the surfers spent on the water cut in to her own personal time.

  “You should give it a try. You might understand it better,” I said.

  Gabrielle absently ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass.

  “I couldn’t imagine Gabi venturing out there,” said Adam, his smile wide.

  I looked to the window, seeing nothing but my reflection. The light had completely disappeared and sombre blackness was in its place.

  “They wouldn’t have her out there,” I retorted. Braving the nasty glare that Gabrielle threw at me, I maintained eye contact. “Surfers are very territorial.”

  Gabrielle’s usually porcelain cheeks turned crimson. Now seemed like the perfect time to throw Alex’s name into the mix.

  “Alex is the penguin king. He’s out there every morning.”

  “I know,” she replied. Maybe she really did study them.

  “You should ask him to give you lessons,” I suggested.

  Gabrielle brought her napkin to her mouth, making a small coughing sound. I wondered if I’d made her choke. Adam looked torn, like he wanted to slap on her on the back but wasn’t sure if he needed to. “Are you okay?” he asked finally, sliding his glass of water across the table to her.

  “Fine,” she replied, recomposing herself. She glanced at her watch. “I actually have to go. I’m sorry to leave so early.” Her voice was surprisingly sincere. “I’m very pleased you came, Charli. I hope you know you’re welcome here always. And now I really have to go.”

  Adam sat motionless at the table long after Gabrielle had left.

  “Maybe I should put them both out of their misery and set them up on a date,” I said at last.

  “And what happens if they fall in love, get married and have five children?”

  “I would slash my wrists.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Can you take me home?” I asked.

  “Already?”

  “Yeah. I’ve done enough damage for one night,” I replied sheepishly.

  “You haven’t damaged me.”

  “I have, you know. One of these days you’ll wake up and realise how horrible I truly am.”

  He read the distress in my face and pulled me to my feet, holding me tight. I didn’t feel the usual rush of blood to my head. I was safe in the arms of someone who didn’t care how wicked I could be or how positively unreasonable I was at times.

  “Never going to happen,” he whispered.

  9. Secrets and Lies

  The illuminated clock in the car held my attention for much of the drive home, reminding me that eight o’clock was a ridiculously early time to be returning from dinner.

  Nearly a whole week without rain had worked magic on our driveway. The deep puddles had dried into muddy potholes that cushioned the blow of driving over them. Despite the pitch-blackness of the night, Adam negotiated them perfectly.

  The house was in darkness when we arrived, meaning Alex wasn’t home. He probably wasn’t anticipating me screwing dinner up so badly that I’d be home that early.

  “Adam, will you wait with me until Alex gets home?” I asked.

  “Of course I will.”

  He held my hand and I clung to the back of his coat with the other as I followed him up to the veranda. Reaching into my coat pocket, he grabbed my keys, unlocking and opening the door so quickly, I barely had to slow my walk. I flicked the light on, flooding the lounge room with light.

  “Okay?” asked Adam.

  “Fine,” I replied as I made a grab for his lapels, pulling him close to me.

  He kissed me just long enough to get my heart racing before mercilessly freeing his lips from mine. I groaned in protest and he chuckled. “I need to let Gabi know I might be late home,” he said, reaching for his phone.

  He punched buttons on his phone with one hand, inches from my ear. I continued kissing his neck, wondering how he’d slow his breathing when she answered. It was a thought that lasted only a few seconds, soon replaced by confusion and shock.

  We stood as still as statues, listening to the muffled sound of a phone ringing from the kitchen. My head snapped up to look at Adam. He looked as surprised as I felt. He pressed a button to end the call and the phantom phone stopped ringing.

  Gabrielle’s phone was in my house.

  I heard Alex before I saw him. His bedroom door burst open and closed quickly. Judging by the way he practically fell through the doorway, he must have run down the hallway.

  “Charli,” he breathed. He was dressed only in a pair of jeans, still dragging one arm through his white T-shirt.

  My reply was choked. “Hi.”

  The look on his face was familiar to me. We shared the same genes. I shouldn’t have been surprised that his trying-to-come-up-with-a-plausible-lie face was exactly the same as mine.

  “Ah, Gabrielle’s phone is here,” said Adam, pointing vaguely towards the kitchen. “Is she here?”

  My brother glanced at me but couldn’t hold my gaze. He looked back to Adam.

  “Yes.” His voice sounded strained, like he was confessing to a murder or something equally as heinous. Perhaps he was.

  That was Gabrielle’s cue to enter the room. I was perfectly positioned to see her breeze down
the hallway, every bit the runway model. Unlike Alex, she had the decency to make sure she was fully dressed. She nervously raked her hand through her bedroom hair, looking everywhere but at us.

  “Art Class, Gabrielle?” asked Adam. Her burning cheeks answered for her. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  Alex seemed more concerned by my reaction. He tried to speak but I cut him off.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  I wanted him to tell me it was a one-off, a sordid little one-night stand. That would be the easiest scenario to deal with, but the minute I noticed that his pinkie finger was linked around hers, it was game over. This was no one-night deal. He loved her.

  He spoke hesitantly. “Over a year.”

  I sucked in a breath as if I’d just been hit.

  “It will be okay, Charli,” promised Alex.

  He was foolish to think I’d be so easily placated. “You lied to me. How is that ever okay?”

  The reality was that this wasn’t as simple as him telling me one little untruth. Alex would have had to string a million lies together to keep his affair with Gabrielle a secret for so long.

  “It’s not okay,” he said, backpedalling.

  I tried to work out whether to stay or go. If I wanted answers, I had to stay. “Just tell me why!”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” he replied, without actually telling me anything.

  “Well, speak!” I demanded. “Please, just tell me something, anything!”

  I scowled across the room at him but he was looking at Gabrielle. He wasn’t answering me because he was protecting her feelings.

  I was suddenly thankful I’d left my coat on. “I have to get out of here,” I blurted.

  “Charli, stay,” urged Adam. I shrugged him away.

  “No. I can’t be here.”

  I half-expected him to joke about my flee-itis flaring up but he didn’t. No one was in the mood for jokes. I pulled open the drawer of the hallstand searching for my car keys. My dramatic exit was hampered by the fact that I couldn’t remember where I’d left them.

  “Take my car,” offered Alex, pointing at his keys. “It’s in the garage.” That explained why we hadn’t seen it when we arrived. I imagined her sporty little Mazda was hidden next to it. Thinking about how far they’d gone to conceal this was making me nauseous. The guilt must have been killing him. Never before had he offered me the use of his car.

  “Don’t let her go while she’s angry,” mumbled Gabrielle, tugging his arm.

  “If you want to leave, I’ll come with you,” offered Adam.

  I shook my head but didn’t reply. My moment of rebellion was lost. I couldn’t even remember the point I was trying to make. The bunch of keys sounded like a much larger object as I slammed them down on the hallstand.

  “Why did you cook salmon for dinner?” I asked, aiming my extraneous question squarely at Gabrielle. If I had nowhere to run, she certainly didn’t either. I was going to make sure of it.

  “I told her it was your favourite,” Alex admitted.

  “So it was all part of the plan, pushing me to go to dinner? The interest in my photography was a nice touch, Gabrielle.”

  “I am interested in your photography, Charli,” she insisted.

  “How uncomfortable did it get when Adam came into the picture? Oh wait...it probably made things easier, didn’t it? I have a distraction now. You get to spend more time with Gabrielle. In fact, things are probably much easier...” My voice trailed off as I came to a horrible conclusion.

  Alex got there before me and was shaking his head before I’d finished. “No, no. Adam knew nothing about this.”

  “Not a thing, Charli,” assured Adam, flatly. His voice was void of emotion. Maybe he was in shock too – or maybe I’d been right all along. He was too good to be true. I searched his eyes for the truth. He looked as confused as I was.

  I saw no more point in talking, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Without another word I pushed past Alex and Gabrielle and marched to my room, slamming the door so hard that I expected it to fall off the hinges.

  I leaned my back against the closed door and without much grace, slid to the floor. I sat quietly for a long time, dazed. I could hear muted conversation coming from the lounge room but I couldn’t bear to listen. Alex wouldn’t give me answers when I stood before him, begging like I was the one who had done something wrong. Too scared of what I might hear by eavesdropping, I covered my ears with my clenched fists to make sure I heard nothing.

  ***

  It didn’t surprise me that Alex was already up when I woke the next morning. I trudged into the kitchen as if my shoes were made of concrete blocks. I wanted to pretend nothing had changed, that the whole night before was a bad dream. The minute he turned to face me, I knew it was impossible.

  “I’ve cooked breakfast.” Alex never cooked breakfast. Looking at the plate of food that vaguely resembled eggs I remembered why.

  “No thanks,” I mumbled, wondering how eggs could be burnt black and yet be runny at the same time.

  “Please, Charli,” he pleaded. “Consider it a peace offering.”

  He pushed the plate towards me and I slid it straight back. “A peace offering would be a big, fat chocolate cake Alex, not...scrambled eggs,” I said, hoping I’d guessed right.

  “It’s an omelette,” he corrected, allowing a smile to creep across his face.

  I pretended to retch. “Well, assuming you’re not trying to kill me, I’ll give it a miss.”

  The smile disappeared from his face and he was suddenly serious. “I’d never intentionally hurt you, you know that.”

  “Keeping your girlfriend – or whatever she is – a secret from me hurts a lot more than a few bad eggs ever would.”

  His expression was irate but resigned. “I just couldn’t tell you. The longer it went on, the more difficult it became. You, better than anyone, knows what this town is like, Charli.”

  “Don’t make this about me.”

  “I didn’t want to complicate things. Gabrielle is your teacher.” His tone implied he was doing me a favour.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s yours. It makes no difference to me. You’re the one who would have to put up with the stupid gossip, not me. Don’t pretend you were protecting me. You were protecting her,” I said contemptuously.

  Alex spoke too quietly. “I protect you, Charli, always you.”

  “Look, she makes you happy. Don’t you think I want you to be happy?” I asked, annoyed that he’d made it about me again. Alex held his palms out. “Am I that horrible?”

  “No, of course not.” He replied without hesitating, which reassured me just enough to keep me in the room.

  “Why her? You could have any girl in this town.”

  “I only want her.”

  I believed him.

  “Jasmine Tate is in love with you.”

  He smiled. “Jasmine Tate frightens me. Both the Beautifuls do.”

  “Yeah, well, Gabrielle Décarie frightens me,” I muttered.

  Alex sat down. Looking at the plate of eggs in front of him, he grimaced. “Look, how about we do something today? Just you and me.”

  “I have school,” I reminded him.

  “I know. Sometimes you just need the day. I think we need the day.”

  “Are you worried that I’ll go to school and create a scene? Blow your little charade to pieces and embarrass your witch?” I snarled.

  “No. I know you would never do that.” He sounded certain, and I suddenly felt guilty for suggesting it.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  “I’ll drive you if you can wait a few minutes. I just need to –”

  “It’s okay. I’m going to take my car. It needs a run.”

  “You are going to school, aren’t you?” asked Alex, looking at me through narrowed eyes. He knew me better than I knew myself at times.

  “Do you want me to lie?” I asked.

  He shook his head, grimacing.
>
  “I won’t lie, then.”

  In the rear vision mirror I saw Alex watching me as I drove away. I could only imagine what he was thinking at that point. I hoped he trusted me enough to know that I would never be the one to tell the Beautifuls that Alex Blake was off their list of most eligible bachelors. I also knew I’d said nothing to convince him of that.

  10. French Attack

  School was the last place I felt like going, and Alex’s offer of spending the day with me was practically an invitation to ditch. I considered going to see Adam but talked myself out of it. I’d almost accused him of being Alex and Gabrielle’s accomplice – their aide-de-camp. Even Adam had to have a limit. I was sure I’d pushed him beyond it.

  I watched monstrous dark clouds rolling in across the bay. The approaching storm matched my mood perfectly and I decided to make the most of it. I grabbed my camera bag from the passenger seat. I’d found my calling for the day. I slung the bag over my shoulder and ventured up the steep hill.

  The top of the paddock was relatively flat, at least level enough to sit comfortably while I steadied my camera on the small tripod. I was still setting up my equipment, trading glances between the viewfinder and the angry sky above when something I wasn’t expecting caught my eye.

  “No freaking way,” I mumbled, looking through the viewfinder to be sure it was actually her.

  Climbing through the wire fence by the road was Gabrielle – not an easy manoeuvre in a pencil skirt and the most beautiful black heels I’d ever seen.

  I considered lying down in the long grass – watching her staggering around in heels while she searched for me did have its appeal – but decided that seeing her stumble her way towards me like a drunk beauty queen was pleasure enough.

  She was halfway up before she gave up on preserving her pretty shoes. I giggled as I watched her pull them off one at a time, futilely dusting them off as she stumbled closer to me.

  Finally she was close enough to hear me speak. “If you were planning to drag me to school, you might have considered wearing more sensible shoes,” I told her, fighting the urge to snap a picture of her.

  “I’m not planning to drag you anywhere,” she replied, still breathless from her trek.