A Pretty Mess

by Carla Caruso

  ‘She did ask me,’ he said finally, his gaze directed somewhere over Celeste’s shoulder. ‘Your hunch was right.’ Then, he let out a choked sob, pressing a meaty hand to his forehead. Celeste reached to touch his shoulder, but paused mid-air before awkwardly patting it as planned. Theirs wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of relationship — not since she was a girl.

  Her dad pushed on, ‘And I wanted to put your mother out of her pain, her misery. Her frustration at not being the woman she once was anymore. To give into her desire to be free again. But … but I couldn’t do it.’

  Relief cascaded over Celeste like a bucket of warm water. Her mother had died of natural causes, after all. There was no dirty family secret, despite Celeste holding the fear to her chest for so long.

  She could let the ugly feeling go. And she didn’t want to ask any more of her dad, such as exactly how her mum had planned to go. What he’d told her was enough. She’d already made him relive it. Nor was she going to hate her mother for wanting to leave her family, her life, a little earlier than intended. Likely she’d wanted to spare her husband and daughter any more grief.

  Celeste moved her fingers from her dad’s shoulder to his hands, now resting on top of one another on the table. ‘You did the right thing.’

  They were quiet as they drank their coffees, Celeste discreetly looking away as her father wiped his moist cheeks with a tissue. The Dr Quinn theme song started, then faded away, leaving a beat of silence before the usual flurry of TV ads. The sound of sawing suddenly sliced through the peace.

  Celeste tilted her head to one side. ‘Is that coming from the … the house?’

  Her dad’s forehead crumpled. ‘Oh, I thought you knew? I guessed it was you who sent that builder chap around to sort out my air-conditioner yesterday. Well, while he was here he also had a look around the house and reckoned a few spots looked a bit hazardous. So he’s sending a few of his tradespeople around to do repairs in exchange for some rare tools of mine. It’s a good thing, too, because Dolores has been on at me to get things fixed around here.’

  Celeste gripped her coffee mug, asking faintly, ‘He was here yesterday?’

  ‘Yes, he’s a nice sort, isn’t it? Sparing an old man his time on a weekend.’

  ‘It was nice of him,’ Celeste conceded quietly, suddenly feeling sick to the soles of her loafers. And it was.

  But along with feeling guilty about thinking the worst of Lenny, there was also the embarrassment that he’d seen the current state of her family home. Along with her Trunk of Shame and hearing her butchering songs in the shower. She’d never felt so exposed. How’d Lenny even find her dad? Bloody hell.

  Swigging down the rest of her coffee, Celeste got to her feet. ‘Look, I’d better get going. I’ve got to do a quick detour on the way back to work, but it was good, you know, clearing the air and all.’

  Her dad winked. ‘Us Pretties take a while to get around to it, but we do a good job when we do.’

  ‘We do, indeed.’

  ‘And please feel free to drop by anytime. Although I can forewarn you if Dolores is going to be here in future.’

  ‘Nah, it’s all good. She’s virtually family.’ And right then, it felt okay to give him a jovial wink, as wobbly as she felt. ‘I just won’t make any night-time visits.’

  It was the first time in a while she’d seen her dad flush, unaided by port. ‘Oh, no, nothing of that sort happens around here anymore. It’s too messy for Dolores.’

  Celeste hoped that didn’t mean poor Flip had to bear witness to the pair’s meet-ups. Maybe Flip had even known about the old couple’s relationship all along. It now also made sense why her dad had been taking more care with his appearance lately, like at Celeste’s surprise party — it’d obviously been Dolores’s influence. Which maybe wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

  Back in her Astra in the drive, Celeste tried to blot out all thoughts of Lenny and how to think about him now, what his motives might have been, by punching Betty-Lou’s number into her phone. Her friend answered after three rings, the triplets making the usual ruckus in the background.

  ‘Betty-Lou, do you still need some fabric scraps for that playgroup quilt project you mentioned earlier?’ Celeste spoke loudly to ensure she was heard.

  ‘Yeah … you have some?’ Betty-Lou could be heard turning away from the mouthpiece, the line crackling. ‘Yes, Mariska, it’s Celeste with the nice brown hair. No, she’s not going out with Bob the Builder. Well, not that she’s told me.’

  Celeste didn’t take the bait, pushing on. ‘I do have some fabric, but it’s quite old. I hope it’ll still work.’

  ‘Anything would be appreciated — it’s not going to be a Gucci quilt, don’t you worry. Even if it is for an Astonvale playgroup.’

  ‘Great, I’ll pick up a bag of stuff from home on my way back to work and leave it on your doorstep.’

  ‘Awesome. Look at you! You’re turning into a bit of a Supernanny.’

  ‘I think you’ve already got that title,’ Celeste lobbed back.

  Celeste’s next call was to her local GP: she had an appointment to make. It was a day for sorting out her own dirty laundry before she could face dealing with anyone else’s.

  20.

  ‘Get in the car.’

  The look of shock on Celeste’s face would have been priceless if it weren’t for the situation. Lenny watched Celeste squint through the opened passenger window of his run-around car — a navy Holden Commodore SS — after he’d zoomed into a park on Natalia’s street later that afternoon. Cars were his thing, property aside. Finally, recognition dawned on her face.

  Standing back, she rested her hands on her pert hips. ‘Aren’t you meant to at least offer me sweets or something?’

  ‘Just get in,’ he growled. ‘I’ll explain later.’ He hadn’t intended spending more time with her so soon, but there was no other way.

  With raised eyebrows and the smile disappearing from her dial, Celeste opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. He took off, just nudging the speed limit, down the road.

  She sat sideways, still struggling with her seatbelt. ‘What’s happened? Why are you in a different car? And showered?’

  He tried not to take offence to the insinuation that he was generally unclean and possibly unhygienic.

  ‘My team are still working, but I left early. I had a business appointment in the city.’ Lenny kept his eyes on the road ahead. One day he’d leave this project behind and get his life back, possibly never seeing Celeste again. An interesting thought in itself. He continued, ‘I own a few different vehicles — a good thing, too, so I won’t be spotted. I just saw Natalia in line at the ATM around the corner. I thought I might be able to catch you before you headed home and we could see where she goes. We’re in this together, like it or lump it.’

  Celeste sat back against the cloth seat, the seatbelt finally snug around her. ‘So we’re following her? To see where she puts the money and who comes to collect it?’ Lenny nodded sharply, leaving Celeste to marvel, ‘It all feels so surreal. Like a movie.’

  They were back out on the busy main road again, and he could just see Natalia’s purple Tesla pulling into the traffic. Relief. He hadn’t lost the fitness guru yet. He pointed her vehicle out to Celeste. ‘Keep an eye on that car.’

  Eyes ahead, Celeste slid down in her seat, as though hiding herself from view, and silently nodded. He kept a space of three cars between his and Natalia’s.

  ‘You know …’ Celeste turned to him, whispering for some reason as he navigated the traffic, as though Natalia could hear them. ‘Don’t you think Natalia could get her minions to withdraw the cash for her? It doesn’t make sense. Why would she do it herself?’

  ‘She would if she doesn’t want anyone to know what’s going on and she’s not sure who to trust.’

  ‘Oh … good point.’

  It was a comment worth framing, coming from Celeste.

  ‘What if she’s just going to shop up a storm? Buy a new outf
it for the launch?’

  ‘In a baseball cap and hoodie?’

  It was the same outfit he’d seen Natalia in last time, which was what had first drawn his attention.

  ‘Huh. You’ve got an answer for everything … Hey, she’s turning!’ Celeste suddenly squealed, pointing up ahead to the left.

  He rubbed his ear. ‘I can see that.’

  They were passing a massive park now, the street shadowy owing to an archway of plane trees. Lenny watched Natalia’s Tesla pull into a parking space up ahead, so he drew into a space a little further down on the opposite side, where houses lined the street.

  ‘What happened to your interior lights?’ Celeste hissed. He hadn’t yet turned off his Commodore.

  ‘The car’s in “stealth mode”.’

  ‘And I thought you weren’t into flashy cars,’ Celeste marvelled.

  ‘This used to be a cop car — I got it for a steal, pun intended. I like wheels, just not showiness.’

  ‘An ex-cop car?’ Celeste’s eyes bulged. The action-movie scenario in her mind appeared to have been upgraded.

  Switching off his car, Lenny joined Celeste in sliding down in his seat, lowering his sun-shield for good measure — as good as his window tinting was. At the far end of the park, he could see a dog obedience class in full swing, and adjacent some teenagers sitting around a swing-set smoking. But their end of things was quiet. For which Natalia would probably be grateful. It was just that time of the day when most people were rushing home, thinking about dinner and what was on the box, rather than stalking clients. He would be missing a good sunset from his deck.

  After several long minutes, Natalia could be seen getting out of her car, her cap pulled down low and her shades still on. Her svelte frame looked unusually dumpier at the front. Under her top must have been her hiding spot for the cash! She darted looks about her, not seeming to spot them, before making a beeline for a nearby chain-link gate.

  ‘Where’s she going?’ Celeste breathed, clearly thinking out loud.

  ‘Let’s watch and find out,’ Lenny murmured back.

  Through the trees, he could see Natalia stop at some park gym equipment, dart more looks around her, then crouch down. By the nod of her head, it looked as though she was counting something on the ground, then she peeled back a big rubber tile from the playground mat. Next, from the front pocket of her hoodie, she whisked out something shiny — a plastic money-bag full of notes, possibly — before she quickly stashed it out of sight, the tile recovering the spot. At last, Natalia stood up, brushing herself down, and marched away from the gym equipment, her curly ponytail swinging and her mouth drawn down. Minutes later, her car could be seen pulling away.

  Beside him, Celeste was opening and shutting her mouth like a goldfish. ‘Far out. I can’t believe that really happened. That our suspicions have been confirmed. And Natalia hiding the loot amid outdoor fitness equipment of all things! Now what do we do?’

  Lenny fiddled with the radio, channel-surfing. ‘Now we wait and see who comes next.’

  Celeste wrapped her arms around herself. ‘What if they notice your car?’

  ‘Hopefully, they’ll just think we’re a visitor at one of the houses around here, or,’ he waggled his eyebrows, ‘infatuated teenagers up to no good, without their parents around. No one at Natalia’s knows this car. I picked it up from home before my business meeting.’

  ‘Gosh, I hope it doesn’t take too long. It’ll get creepy around here in the dark. And I’m not good at doing nothing.’

  ‘Have plans to clean out your fridge tonight?’

  ‘Very funny,’ she said, but not quickly enough, so he might have even been right.

  He stopped at a station and Whitney Houston’s ‘I Have Nothing’ filled the air. He was about to change it when a memory flickered at the back of his brain. Of overhearing Celeste doing a bad karaoke version of the song in the shower. As terrible as it had sounded, it had been kind of cute.

  So rather than lowering the volume, he raised it. ‘Maybe you can while away the time by serenading us.’

  ‘Haha.’ She leaned forward, turning it lower again. ‘Unfortunately, you’re no Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard. And I’d rather let Whitney’s legacy shine on this time. Besides, if you keep being cruel, I won’t want to thank you for helping out my dad.’

  He shot her a sideways look. ‘You know about that?’

  ‘I do.’ She played with her hands. ‘And I want you to know I haven’t been happy with the state his home has gotten into. I have a lot of childhood memories at that place. I just haven’t known what to do about the situation. Dad refused my help and I didn’t know how to push him. I guess I was afraid removing the layers of junk might even bring back painful memories for him, cause him more grief. Somehow an outsider like you was able to sweep in and magically make him see sense.’

  ‘Maybe he was too afraid to admit to you that things had gotten on top of him. As your father, he probably thought he was meant to be the strong one. Didn’t want to involve you in his problems.’

  ‘I guess you’re probably right. So …’ She shrugged. ‘Now you know my dirty, little secret — the neat-freak professional organiser with the hoarder father. What made you decide to help him anyway?’

  Lenny rubbed his jaw. ‘Well, I was just intending to see to his air-conditioner being fixed. Found him in the phone book. I could see that his staying at your place was only going to cause tensions between you two, and I thought it might help ease the situation. But when I saw the state of disrepair elsewhere at his place, well … I guess, it’s the builder in me. I don’t like seeing unfinished projects. I couldn’t just look away.’

  Celeste nodded wordlessly. ‘Thank you,’ she said, at last. It sounded heartfelt. Then she shook her head, laughing bitterly. ‘You know what the funny thing is?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘After everything that night, my dad and Dolores — they’re not even related. They just jokingly call each other cousins because they’ve known each other so long and somehow the term stuck. How crazy is that? So while I’m still not happy about them having a rendezvous in my home, it looks like I’m going to have to accept Dolores into the fold, after all. I’ve got nothing to shame Dad with, aside from Dolores’s general tackiness.’

  ‘So long as your dad’s happy, I suppose,’ Lenny offered dryly.

  ‘And—’ Celeste looked like she was about to say something more, then promptly shut her mouth.

  ‘And?’ he pressed.

  Then again, if it was about her patching things up with Mitchell, he was glad to be spared the gory details.

  ‘And … and I could do with a trip to the ladies. If only the darn blackmailer would hurry up. All this waiting around is making me nervous.’

  ‘There are public toilets over there. You could go the back way around if you keep your head down.’

  Celeste looked even more alarmed, crossing one leg over the other. ‘Oh, no, I can wait.’

  Lenny was sure his expression said it all. What a germaphobe. She rustled in her bag, pulling out a sesame seed bar. She offered him half, even though she said she didn’t usually eat in the car. Eating in his was obviously okay, though. He accepted half — the none-too-inspiring snack could wind up being his dinner. As the sky grew darker and the park lonelier — the dog-owners and cigarette-loving teenagers drifting on — Celeste let rip with a yawn.

  ‘Am I keeping you up?’ Lenny deadpanned.

  ‘I kind of had a big weekend,’ Celeste shot back.

  Touché.

  ‘Well, this could wind up being a long night. Looks like the blackmailer wants to wait until the cover of darkness to collect the cash. So why don’t you have a nap? We can take it in turns, if needs be.’

  Celeste’s eyes widened, the seriousness of the situation seeming to have sunk in. ‘I’m not much of a camper, but I really could do with a kip if I’m to be on top of things. Will you wake me if anything happens? Oh, gosh, not that I’m sure I want to see who the
blackmailer actually is!’

  ‘I’ll wake you.’

  ‘And you’re not going to do anything, are you, when you spot them? Just see who they are?’

  ‘Yep. After that, we’ll decide what to do next.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said softly, then clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Fudge. I’m meant to have given Custard another half a Valium.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘It’s so he’s relaxed enough to pee, although, last time, in his dopey state, he mistook my shag-pile rug for the grass.’

  ‘He what?’

  ‘Oh, never mind.’

  Inwardly, Lenny shook his head. ‘Let’s just hope it’s not that late a night and you’ll be tucked up in bed before you know it.’

  Unfortunately, not his this time. Did he just think that? It was obviously just all the recycled air in the car.

  Celeste leaned her seat back, hunching on her side, away from him. ‘I hope so, too.’

  Sometime later, amid the pitch black, the maniacal sound of a kookaburra cackling cut through Lenny’s thoughts. Strangely, the scent of lavender also tantalised his nostrils. He licked his lips. For some reason, his back and legs felt slightly cramped, which never happened in his king-sized bed, and there were puffs of warmth hitting his cheek at regular intervals.

  ‘Lenny, wake up!’

  The familiar voice was like a slap to the face. His eyelids shot open and he found himself face-to-face with Celeste, her face shadowy and her pink lips glistening in the moonlight. Judging by the raised hand, she really had slapped his face in an effort to rouse him, too; it wasn’t just her voice. Suddenly, his whereabouts — and why — all came rushing back. Grabbing Celeste’s wrist, he pulled her closer. It was hard not to feel aroused amid the limited space and velvety darkness, as wrong as they were for each other.

  ‘Can’t help the physical contact?’ he breathed.

  ‘You fell asleep,’ Celeste exclaimed, wriggling free of his grip. ‘And since I’d already dozed off, our blackmailer could well have been and gone by now, thanks to you. What happened to us napping in shifts?’