by C. J. Duggan
“Ugh, all right!” I snapped. “Who’s here?” I stretched.
“Come and see.” He smiled and left, leaving the door wide open.
Jerk!
I didn’t want to jump to his beck and call – I didn’t want to start a pattern of being his little soldier taking orders – so I took my time having a shower and getting ready for the day. I figured it was most likely Sean who had dropped in like he seemed to have developed a habit of doing lately. Most likely he was here to taunt me.
When I rounded the corner into the bar, I froze. My heart stopped for a moment and I’m sure a look of astonishment aligned my face. Was this a dream?
“Melba?”
Sure enough, there she sat, her portly frame perched on a stool at the bar, her legs barely able to rest on the rail at the bottom of the bar stool. She clasped her hands in her lap, her posture super straight, as always. She gave me a thin-lipped smile, as if she wasn’t entirely happy to see me.
“What are you doing here?” I approached her cautiously as if any quicker and I might spook her.
“I heard about ya father.” The icy facade had still not thawed. She said ‘ya father’ with the same level of disdain as last time. But this time her eyes weren’t as harsh as she looked at me. She must have stopped in to see if I was all right (which was a huge concession considering she had vowed never to step back into this place). I was touched. Knowing Melba and her vows, just being here must have been huge for her.
“Yeah, Mum called before; he went home this morning. He is doing okay. He just has to take it easy.”
Melba scoffed in reply.
I perched on the stool next to her, giving Chris an uncertain look.
“Thanks for stopping by, Melbs, I really appreciate it.”
Melba’s leg jiggled up and down with nervous energy; there was something obviously eating away at her as she became more agitated.
“I’ve been thinking,” she bit out.
“Oh?”
“Well, I’ve heard things. And it’s just absolutely ridiculous having a pub with no food; it’s just not right.”
It took all of my strength to keep a blank face, to not show so much as a smirk, and I definitely avoided Chris’s eyes. I wanted to believe I knew where this conversation was headed, but I was afraid to hope, to believe in the possibility. And just as I tried to convince myself otherwise, Melba confirmed my hopeful thoughts.
“If we’re going to open for lunch and dinner, we’re going to have to pull the kitchen apart and scrub it within an inch of its life.”
I couldn’t fight it now, my lips tilted upward. “We?”
Melba’s brows fell forward. “Don’t be smug, Miss Amy Henderson, it doesn’t become you.”
I hopped off my stool, throwing my arms around her in a big bear hug. “Oh, Melba, I’m not smug, I’m grateful … I’m so grateful!”
Melba fidgeted under my embrace; she never did do warm and fuzzy well and had always tended to avoid such things like ‘emotions’.
“Yes, well.” She straightened on her stool. “There is one stipulation.”
“Name it.” I nodded, a little bit of fear fraying the edge of my mind.
Melba gave me a long, cool stare. “I don’t want your father to know I’m here.”
My shoulders slumped in relief and I couldn’t help but get the giggles.
“I mean it, Amy, or I won’t do it … As far as your father is concerned I have nothing to do with the place.”
I shook my head, more laughter pouring out from me.
“What’s so funny?” Melba crossed her chubby arms.
“Melba, as far as keeping secrets from Dad goes, get in line.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
After letting the whole Onslow saga pour out to Melba for what felt like the millionth time, I finally had a chance to get excited about what was unravelling.
Sure, I had to spend the morning listening to Melba moan and scoff with every drawer, door and food container that had expired before I was born.
I lifted myself to sit on the hotel kitchen’s island bench and cast Chris a grim look as he leaned through the doorway.
“What an absolute disgrace; I have a good mind to ring your father and give him what for,” Melba said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the grime she was scrubbing loose.
“Uh-uh, Melbs,” said Chris. “You’re not here, remember?”
“And don’t you forget it.” Melba stabbed her finger in the air at us, before disappearing into the cool room. A muffled gasp of horror sounded from inside. I looked at Chris, cringing at the thought of what Melba had discovered now.
He held up his hands in defeat and backed away, sporting a huge grin as he did so. “I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?”
“Chris,” I whispered. “Come back here!” My eyes darted to the cooler and then glowered back at him as he saluted and walked through the swinging kitchen door.
I moved to follow him when I was jolted by the unexpected sound of Melba’s raised voice.
“Would you look at that?” She held out a mouldy pot with what looked like something that had once been a piece of … broccoli?
I grimaced. “Gross. I bet if you poked that with a fork it would say ‘ouch’.”
“Absolutely … dis-gus-ting!” Melba enunciated the words like a hoity school ma’am, and even though I loved her more than anyone in the world right now for coming to help me out, it didn’t mean it was going to be a barrel of laughs.
***
A yawn escaped from me and I could feel my bones click as I stretched, walking through to the main bar. After spending the day cleaning the kitchen with Melba, I was exhausted. Even so, I still managed to throw Chris a good scowl as I walked past him.
“Finished?” He raised his brows in amusement.
I would have given him a forked-tongued retort, but I instantly saw that he hadn’t exactly been slacking these past four hours. The mahogany bar shone and I could smell the furniture polish as soon as I walked through the doors. The tray that edged around the bar’s base designed for wayward cigarettes and rubbish had also been emptied and polished. The floorboards still had that streak of freshly washed dampness to them.
It seemed a shame to lean on the newly polished bar, but I was so tired. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.
“We’re finished for today.”
“How long before we’re up and running in the kitchen?” Chris asked.
I sighed. “We’ll hit it hard tomorrow and then go and look at getting some food, work out a basic menu to begin with and trial it on a lunch shift.”
I half expected Chris to comment on what a great plan that was, but he didn’t reply.
I lifted my head up and looked at him expectantly. His eyebrows were furrowed as he gave me a long, side-on look.
“What?” I straightened. “What’s wrong?”
“You look so pale.”
“Gee, thanks.” I self-consciously ran my fingers through my hair.
“I’m just saying you look washed out. When’s the last time you left this place? Took some time off?”
“I went down the street the other day,” I quipped.
“Running hotel errands doesn’t count.”
“I went to the hospital to see Dad.”
“That definitely doesn’t count.”
I shrugged. “Well I just have to get on with it.”
“How about you take a break, get some fresh air?”
“What about you?”
“I’m fresh blood, remember? I only blew in last night.”
A break from the Onslow did sound rather amazing – to be able to sit elsewhere in the peace and quiet, the sun on my face, the reflection off the water. What bliss.
“You should go for a swim or something, perk yourself right up.”
Chris’s words were the equivalent of a record being scratched; they wrenched me from my daydream. A coldness swept through my body as my heart spiked in a panic at the very th
ought of going into that lake. It was something I hadn’t done since that night, something I had no intention of revisiting ever.
“Wow. By that reaction I’m guessing that’s a no.”
“I think I’ll just go for a walk,” I said. “Get some vitamin D.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Chris said as he poked the recess of the ice bucket with a spoon.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Go, before I change my mind.”
He didn’t need to voice it again. I dodged around the bar stool and, with a new-found energy, grabbed the front door and it let out that old, familiar screech as I threw it open. A warm, summer breeze hit my face and all of a sudden I didn’t feel the least bit tired; I had never felt more alive.
***
Okay, so it wasn’t far. I didn’t go on some grand adventure, but still the view was amazing. I had bolted across the grassy embankments that headed down to flatter ground and down towards the jetty. A long line of boats dotted the water along the way, the distant echoes from thrill-seekers ringing out along the long mass of sweeping water that stretched as far as the eye could see. I hunched over, catching my breath.
Christ, I was unfit. Still, why wouldn’t I be? I couldn’t exactly go frolicking among the suburban streets of the city, Julie Andrews-style. The city had always lacked such conveniences; it had been perfect for Mum and her high-spending lifestyle but when she’d upped and moved while I was at boarding school, no one had bothered to ask me what I wanted. I guess I lost that right: sneaking out, binge drinking and nearly drowning; the parental trifecta of horror.
As usual, and for the lack of anything else to do, I was drawn towards a vacant picnic table on the edge of the grassy embankment that overlooked all the water action. Stepping up, I moved to dodge the dried bird poo and sat in a relatively clean spot on the top, stretching out my long legs to rest on the seat. I placed my hands back on the table ledge and closed my eyes against the blinding sunrays. I enjoyed the warmth of the hot summer wind as it rolled in from the lake. I smiled against the humming of the boats and jet skis, the laughing of terrified children as they were flung along the water’s surface in their giant, inflatable tubes. The callings and joy the summer brought out in people, the long-lost sounds of my childhood – all the things I had missed these past summers living in the city. I would never get tired of hearing it, and just when I thought I could finally relax away from my usual surroundings, my eyes snapped open to the sound of a voice I would recognise anywhere.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You’ll get burnt!”
Ugh!
I straightened from my reclined position to see Sean standing before me in knee-length boardies, and … Good God, he’s not wearing a shirt. I quickly averted my eyes as I wiped my hands on my shorts from touching the grimy tabletop.
I could only imagine his smug smile broadening at my lame attempts not to eye his six-pack; he was such a smart-arse. I sighed and stared intently at my fingernails.
“I think there’s more chance of you getting burnt than me,” I said, coolly looking up to meet his eyes.
Look at his face, look at his face; don’t look down, don’t look down.
“So the princess has escaped from her tower,” he said with a devilish grin.
“Does that make you the Court Jester, then?” I mused.
Sean swept his hand to the sky and bowed low. “Yes, m’lady.”
I framed my face with my hand, shielding my eyes from the blinding sun. “You’re an idiot!”
“I would prefer to think of myself as a lovable rogue.”
I shook my head and a sudden silence swept over us. I looked past Sean to see jet skis churning circles in the water.
Sean followed my line of vision. “You gonna go in?”
My attention snapped back to him. “No!” I blurted out a bit too fast.
Sean’s smile evaporated. He stared at me as if gauging if I was serious or not.
“Well, you can’t sit here all day staring off into the distance.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “It’s kinda creepy.”
“Is that right?” I said, squinting back up at him.
Sean nodded. “Creepy.”
I rubbed my palms along my thighs, wary of getting too much sun. I caught Sean staring at my motion before he quickly looked away.
He cleared his throat. “I’m just finished here; how about we go on a land expedition, then?”
“Land expedition?”
“Yeah, I’ve got to pick up some supplies from down the street.”
“Wow, sounds like a riot,” I mused.
“So eager to get back to your tower, Princess?”
I paused before I let out a sarcastic comeback (my natural defence), and thought about what exactly waited for me back at the Onslow. Chris shouting orders and a semi-trashed kitchen. Yeah, I think I could live without that for a bit longer.
“All right, Captain Excitement, take me on this life-changing land expedition then.” I climbed off the tabletop and brushed peeled paint flakes from my shorts and hands.
“Life-changing? I’m afraid I’ve oversold it to you. The last thing I want is for you to be disappointed.”
I smiled sweetly as I sidestepped towards the car park. “I bet that’s what you say to all the girls.”
Sean paused. His brows creased in a mixture of horror and confusion, the corner of his mouth curving incredulously as he began to follow after me.
“What did you just say?”
I just giggled and sped up, my head darting backwards to see where he was. As soon as the words had tumbled out I knew it meant trouble; I had read it all over his face. When I ignored the question it just dug me into a deeper hole.
“Right! That’s it!” he said, and ran after me.
I screamed. Bolting across the car park, finding it hard to run in my thongs, it wouldn’t take much for Sean to reach me; three of my steps were equal to one of his and with him giving chase I was doomed from the start.
“Sean, don’t!” I screamed breathlessly as I struggled to scramble up the grassy knoll towards the car park. Finally I lost my thong and faltered.
That was all he needed to seal my fate. I felt the whoosh from behind and my world spun as I was rolled onto my back, the spiky blades of grass digging into my shoulders as he pinned my arms to the ground with his iron grip.
“Sean, get off me, you dickhead!” I squirmed under him but it was of no use. He had me pinned. His thighs trapped my hips into place as his laboured breaths blew down on me. I stopped myself from fidgeting as I became very aware of how intimately we were pressed up against one another.
Sean grinned down at me. “Dickhead?”
“Get off,” I bit out.
“Say you’re sorry.”
My mouth gaped open. Never! I told him just as much with my silence and a mega-death stare.
Sean leaned closer. “Amy. Say. You’re. Sorry!”
I yanked my head to the side, refusing to look at him, breaking away from his face that hovered above mine.
“Fine! You asked for it.”
Sean mercifully lifted his weight off me, but it was a short-lived relief as he yanked me to my feet by my wrists.
Grabbing onto my upper arm, he marched me back down the embankment, my feet skidding in resistance. My other thong slipped off my foot and lay abandoned behind us. Before I could let out another protest …
“Leave it!” Sean said. “You won’t need them where you’re headed.” He dragged me along in a fast stride, my feet barely keeping up as I padded along the grass barefoot.
“Where are you taking me?” I demanded.
But before he could answer, I became all too aware of where we were headed.
“Sean, no!” I pulled away, using all my strength and putting all my weight on the heels of my feet, digging into the sand. My heart raced as I breathed heavily, my breath laboured in fear. An all-consuming terror overcame me as he pulled me closer to the water.
<
br /> “Sean, please stop!” I begged.
A group of teenage boys sat on the edge of a fence, laughing at the hilarious act of revenge. Sean marched towards the jetty. I was screaming now, pleading in mumbled forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, okay? I said I was sorry!”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” he said as he pulled me along, my feed padding along the wooden boards of the jetty.
Sean whipped me around, smirking down at me as if this would be my very last time on dry ground before I went over the edge.
“Any last requests?”
By now I was shaking like a leaf, my eyes wide and watery with fear. It was no use voicing anything; I couldn’t have if I’d tried. My throat stung from screaming. I was that girl on roller blades being flung about all over again, except this time my fear was absolute. I shifted miserably from one foot to the next, the hot ground stinging my feet. My eyes bore into his good-humoured ones.
“Ready?” he said.
Before I could burst into tears, Sean threw me up over his shoulder and I closed my eyes. But as Sean started to walk my eyes flew open again. The world was awkwardly upside down but he wasn’t walking towards the jetty or the water. He was carrying me away from it, back towards the car park. Perhaps it was the blood rushing to my head or the new confusion of our direction and …
Did he just slap my butt?
I didn’t allow myself to breathe a sigh of relief – first off, because I didn’t trust a thing Sean Murphy did and secondly, because my stomach was constricted by being carried over Sean’s shoulder. Carried like I weighed nothing more than a feather. I heard the distant cat-calls and wolf whistles from the teenage boys as Sean carried me like a caveman.
We finally came to a stop by his car and Sean set me back on the ground. I pushed away from him and leaned against the passenger door, fighting to reel my emotions in.
I was seething, breathing heavily, my hair in disarray as I fought to stop the tears from spilling over.
He raised his eyebrows at me in surprise. “At the risk of being barred for life from the Onslow, I would never have gone through with it.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a real fucking gentleman.” I pushed him out of my way to walk past him. I didn’t make it two steps before he had snaked his hand around my arm and pulled me back.