Caught Inside

by Mandi Greenwood

  He nodded and Aisley smiled.

  'We'll cross each bridge when we come to it, okay?'

  'Okay.' He took both of her hands in his, his thumbs stroking the backs of them. 'Live for now, yeah?'

  'Yep.' She gazed out of the rain-speckled window for a moment and then she looked back at him. 'I love you,' she murmured.

  'I love you, too,' he whispered.

  Still holding hands, they watched the storm and sometime later, back in bed, she fell asleep in his arms listening to his heartbeat as she drifted off.

  After a gruelling twenty four hours in the air, Neve's legs felt shaky as she finally made her way into the arrivals terminal at Melbourne airport. Actually, it had been a lot longer than that when you took the five hour delay in Dubai into account. Then she'd almost forgotten she had to change planes in Sydney. That was a close call! She hadn't managed to sleep a wink the whole way and had spent the entire time sitting next to a man who smelled like he hadn't showered in days.

  Still. She was finally in Australia. First chance she got, she'd email Sammy and let him know she was okay. He'd be worrying about her.

  She filed through customs with everyone else.

  'G'day,' said the cheerful customs officer.

  She goggled at him. He'd really said "g'day". It was stereotypical but it sounded completely natural too ... like he said it all the time. She had to smile. 'Hello,' she replied.

  'Anything to declare?' The customs officer had blonde hair, greying at the temples, and freckles across his nose. He had friendly crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

  'Um…' Neve was unsure.

  'Any foods, plants... that type of thing?'

  'Oh. No. Nothing like that.'

  'Too easy then.'

  'Right,' she grinned. His relaxed demeanour was addictive. She felt her worries start to slide from her shoulders.

  The customs officer waved her past. He turned to the next passenger and Neve went on her way.

  As she waited at the luggage carousel for her battered backpack, she took in her surroundings. Even though Melbourne airport was busy, it was a tranquil oasis compared to the mad chaos of Heathrow. Not that she could tell anything about a country from its international terminal of course, but she already felt much better. Her backpack appeared and she dragged it from the carousel and settled it lovingly on her shoulders. It felt good to have it back.

  She emerged from the airport and stood on the footpath outside. The sky was cloudy and overcast and a very fine drizzle was falling.

  A middle-aged couple stopped next to her and the woman smiled at Neve. 'Typical Melbourne weather,' she said. 'It's cold as! Good to be home though.'

  Neve nodded politely. She waited for the woman to say exactly what it was as cold as, but she didn't.

  'I've never been here before,' Neve said. 'What's the best way to get to the city?'

  The man pointed across the road. 'Bus depot, love,' he said. 'I'd nip over there if I were you. You won't have to wait long.'

  'Cheers,' Neve said. She hitched up her backpack a little and made her way across to the bus depot. There were three buses waiting and they were all going via the city. Using some of the money she'd changed in England before she left, she bought a ticket to Southern Cross station. From there, she planned to catch a train to Gippsland, and more specifically, to the coastal town of Seamere. Despite the drizzling weather and the strange newness of being somewhere for the first time, she felt comfortable.

  If she didn't know better she'd say it felt like coming home.

  I'm Neve

  Shay left home early, eager to visit the craft market in Salbury and buy some handmade tiles for the bathroom renovation which was her current passion. After she drove away, Sheldon's Seat sat silent and still. The only sound to be heard was Ellette's claws, as she trotted busily across the kitchen and out through her doggy door.

  It was late in the morning before Aisley propped herself up on one elbow, squinting at the winter sunlight streaming into her room. The storm had passed and left the day washed clean.

  She rested her chin on her hand and enjoyed watching Chandra sleep for a little while. His pendant had slipped around to the back of his neck so she reached in behind him to pull it to the front and woke him up in the process.

  'Hey,' he mumbled, still mostly asleep. 'What are you doing?'

  'Just getting your …'

  'Are you trying to tickle me?'

  'No, I …'

  He grabbed both of her wrists in one hand. 'Pay-back time, woman!' The impressive tickle-battle that ensued was inevitable and went on until hunger eventually forced them downstairs. Chandra made them both tea, and Aisley cooked an enormous stack of pancakes.

  'You flip a mean pancake, Ais,' Chandra said, starting on his fourth one.

  'Thanks,' she said. 'You brew a mean teabag.'

  'You should try my mum's aloo paratha's.'

  'Aloo … who did the what now?'

  'Potato pancakes,' he told her, finishing his tea. 'They're yummy as!'

  'They're not spicy, are they? You know I'm not good with spicy.'

  He smiled fondly at her across the table. 'You bland eater, you.'

  'Hey, I eat hot things,' she said in her own defence.

  'Such as?'

  She cast about madly. 'Taco's!'

  He blew a raspberry at her. 'Pfft! Taco's schmaco's! They won't put hair on your chest.'

  'Good!' she barked and they both cracked up at the thought of her with a hairy chest.

  When Neve stepped off the train at Salbury station that same morning, the first person she saw … well, the only person she saw … was a man with a Victorian Railways insignia on his shirt. He was busy unloading a palette of boxes on the platform.

  He glanced up as the morning train arrived from Melbourne and when he noticed her he stood up straight and stretched his back. Shouldering her heavy backpack, she approached him.

  'Excuse me,' she asked. 'Can you please tell me if Seamere is far from here?'

  His gaze washed her from head to toe and she could sense him taking in the ring through her eyebrow, the tiny diamond in her nose, and the Celtic tattoos around her thin arms. She smiled her prettiest smile for him.

  'About fifty kays,' he said clearing his throat abruptly.

  'Kays?'

  'Sorry.' He grinned and blushed at the same time. 'Kilometres, I mean.'

  'Oh.' Her pretty smile faded. 'That's going to be an expensive taxi ride.'

  'There's a bus.' He pointed at the depot outside the station. 'In fact, there'll be one along in the next ten minutes. It'll take you all the way to Seamere and not break the budget.'

  'Cheers.' She smiled again. 'I knew you had a helpful face.'

  'Er, thanks … and you're very welcome.'

  She hitched up her large backpack again and as she walked away she was well aware that he was watching her move, but she didn't care. It was only when they tried to touch that it became a problem.

  'Wanna come to mine and watch a movie on dad's new sixty five inch plasma?' Chandra had suggested after finishing the last pancake. 'We can ring around and see who wants to join in. Make a day out of it?'

  Aisley happily took him up on the offer.

  Five minutes after they'd gone, Neve arrived on foot at the bottom of the Loch Hill road. She paused and looked at the walking track that led to the surf beach then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was really lovely here.

  She'd had a productive morning since arriving in town. She'd managed to get a bed at the Jarvis Youth Hostel, not too far from Seamere, and just the thought that she had somewhere to stay filled her with good cheer.

  Climbing Loch Hill, she found herself standing in front of a rambling, decrepit mansion that could only be Sheldon's Seat.

  She stopped, sucking in her breath at the sight of it. Despite the overgrown façade, it was undisputedly the same house she remembered from the ancient photograph on her grandparent's wall. She could hardly believe she wa
s here.

  She looked in vain for a front door and then wandered around the building searching for another entrance. At the rear of the house she crossed a paved patio area to a pair of elegant French doors. Using her hand as a shield against the glare of the day, she peered inside. She could see a kitchen, but nobody was around so she knocked and waited.

  A small dog galloped across the patio and barked severely at her.

  'Hello,' said Neve, smiling. She crouched and put her hand out to the dog which sniffed at her and wagged its tail so frantically it almost fell over. Neve laughed and petted the little animal. 'You're lovely,' she told it. The dog rolled over to have its tummy rubbed and she obliged for a while, and then she stood up and knocked again. She was fairly sure the house was empty and when nobody answered after her second knock she was certain.

  She sighed. It seemed ironic that she'd travelled thousands of miles and nobody was home. Oh well. She took a step back and looked up at the house. From this angle it was easier to see the grandeur that had once defined the building.

  Giving the dog one final pat, Neve strolled back around to the front of the house. Should she leave a note? She eyed the letterbox thoughtfully. No, she finally decided. That wasn't the way to go about things. She was here now and she wasn't about to leave. After all, what did she have to go home to apart from Sammy … and he didn't need her. She had all the time in the world and soon enough she'd meet Aisley Brannon, the girl who'd sent her the letter.

  Casting one final look at her great, great grandparent's house, Neve told the little dog to stay and set off back down Loch Hill towards Seamere Village.

  When she passed the Duke of York hotel next to the life-saving club, Neve saw something that caught her interest. There was a handwritten sign stuck in the window next to the front door, advertising a situation vacant for a bartender. She'd done her fair share of tending bar over the last couple of years in dodgy pubs where she lied about her age to get the job. Sometimes she'd been asked to do other things to keep the job as well, and she'd walked away. She was never going to be used like that. She'd rather die.

  She pushed open the door and went in to the public bar. It was only early afternoon but there were already a couple of bottoms planted firmly on barstools. She walked across a carpet sticky with the residue of a thousand beers and leaned on the bar.

  A bald man with a red nose and humongous belly, both suggesting he enjoyed his own product a little too much, dropped her a wink. 'Hello love,' he said. 'What'll it be?'

  'Actually,' she said. 'I'm here about the job.'

  'Right o'.' The bartender lumbered over to her and leaned his beefy hands on the bar, looking her up and down. 'You sure you're old enough? Gotta' be eighteen, you know.'

  'I am eighteen,' she lied, waiting for him to ask her to prove it by producing some ID. He didn't.

  'Ever worked behind a bar before?'

  'I've got lots of experience.'

  'Howzat then? If you're only eighteen?'

  'My dad owned a pub,' she lied again. 'In the UK. I grew up in it and worked behind the bar all the time.'

  The publican nodded. His bleary eyes kept dropping to her cleavage and she put up with it. 'You know its late hours,' he said.

  'Eight in the evening until closing,' she nodded. 'I know. Shift work doesn't bother me.'

  'My name's Dougie,' he said, holding his hand across the bar. 'Dougie Barber. This is my place.'

  She shook his sweaty hand and then resisted the urge to wipe her palm on her shorts. 'My name's Neve Hobson.'

  'Well, Neve Hobson,' said Dougie, stepping out from behind the bar. 'Why don't we go have ourselves a nice little chat and sort the details?'

  It was seven o'clock the following morning.

  Neve sat cross-legged on the end of her bunk bed at the Jarvis youth hostel and gazed out the open door at the tranquil view. The fields dropped away across the valley, and a morning frost painted everything white.

  At twenty five dollars a night, she was sure she wasn't going to find any place cheaper to stay than the hostel and she was pleased she'd managed to find the bar tending work so quickly. That would pay the rent and keep her fed. It didn't hurt that Dougie Barber fancied her. Not that she'd ever consider letting him touch her of course, but if a little flirting got her an extra shift now and then, it was harmless.

  She certainly did not intend to go back to Manchester, even if she was starving in the gutter. But she didn't think that was going to happen. She had a feeling she was somewhere now where she could finally let down her guard and actually be herself.

  Neve had learned early on to shield her gentle nature. Her parents had fought steadily for the first twelve years of her life before her father walked out, taking her older brother Dillon with him. That had hurt the most… losing Dillon. He had been her hero. For a long time she couldn't understand how he could choose to go with their father rather than stay with her, but now she got it. He'd had no choice. Their father was an intimidating man with a quick temper. Dillon was only fourteen at the time and he wouldn't have been asked what he wanted to do.

  Her mum had lots of men coming to the house after her father left and the only good thing about them was that none of them stayed very long. After a few miserable years living with her mum and these men, Neve was forced to leave. At barely fourteen she'd found herself homeless, alone, and living on the streets.

  She survived because she had strength and an optimism that hadn't existed in her family for many generations. She was unaware, but it was the same strength that had brought Michael Sheldon to a new land over a century ago.

  She had eventually found compassion and pure love in her dear friend Sammy. He was nearly sixty; a black South African living in a high-rise council estate in Table Hill, Manchester. Sammy was walking home from a late shift at the convenience store where he worked in the early hours one morning and found Neve curled in a doorway. It wasn't snowing, but it wasn't far from it. She was freezing and she had no coat. She had nothing. She'd been sleeping rough for a week, using her empty backpack as a pillow, and everything else she owned had been nicked while she slept. She hadn't eaten in days and was barely conscious when Sammy found her.

  He scooped her up in his big strong arms like a baby, took her home to his tiny flat and turned the heat up high. Over the next few days, he fed her canned soup and toast. She watched daytime telly while he and his boyfriend Darren went to work. She didn't die. She got better, and Sammy told her she didn't have to go unless she wanted to. It took her a long time to believe he wanted nothing from her in return, but she finally learned to trust him. Eventually she learned to love him.

  And now she had left him.

  Thirty minutes later, she had to be out of her room so the cleaners could come through.

  She grabbed what she needed for the day and headed across the forecourt of the hostel and down the driveway. There was a bus stop on the edge of the road and if she chose to wait, there would be one along in several minutes that would take her into Seamere. But it was a lovely winter morning so Neve decided to walk.

  Her thoughts drifted and Aisley Brannon crossed her mind, as she did frequently these days. The girl who'd sent her the letter. The girl who was solely responsible for her being here in the first place. The thought of Aisley played in Neve's head like a snippet from a song. Perhaps she could make a friend out of her. There had been precious few of those in her life.

  She couldn't stop thinking about Sheldon's Seat either. She remembered the framed picture of the grand mansion in her grandfather's house, but the reality was very different. Her grandfather used to complain he'd been cheated out of everything, including Sheldon's Seat, by his loser of a father … or so he said. Neve knew it was all bollocks. The house been sold years before her grandfather was even born.

  She walked along, watching the frosty paddocks roll past. Beyond them, she could see the ocean stretching to the horizon. It was so beautiful here. Feeling better than she'd ever felt before, Neve walke
d on into Seamere Village.

  Pinkie Promise

  Archie sat on one side of the dining table in the kitchen at Cate's house, and Cate sat opposite. Lucan sat to Archie's right and Freya sat to his left. If it wasn't for the text books and laptops on the table, they'd look like they were about to play poker … or conduct a séance.

  Mrs Costa was in the study down the hall. She was Skyping Cate's grandmother in the Mallee, in North West Victoria. Cate's twenty year old brother Felix was away at uni in Melbourne. Cate's dad was not home from work yet, a fact that Archie was profoundly grateful about.

  Archie was sure Mr Costa wanted to kill him… slowly… in an extremely painful way… preferably using a medieval torture device.

  'Eh, don't worry about it,' Cate had said when he mentioned her father's homicidal tendencies. 'He's always like that when boys come here.'

  'I don't see him looking at Lucan like that!'

  'Lucan's not a threat.'

  'Meaning I am?' Archie had felt the beginnings of fresh hope stir in his soul.

  Cate had raised her eyebrows at him. 'Don't ask. I'll say no and you'll be sad. Okay?'

  'Okay.'

  Now, as he stared at her across the table he wondered. She gave him these looks sometimes … maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  'Right.' Lucan spun his laptop around to show the others what he'd found. 'We should be able to find enough here to finish our presentation with a bit of pizazz.'

  Archie squinted at the screen. 'Damn, Shakespeare was such a boring dude,' he muttered.

  Freya rolled her eyes. 'Three weeks before your biggest assessment so far is not the time to be announcing that, Arch.'

  He spread his hands. 'You disagree?'

  'I like Shakespeare,' she said. 'I always have.'

  'Figures.' He sighed and looked around the table. 'So, tell me again why we're doing English Lit homework during the holidays?'