The Goodbye Girl

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The Goodbye Girl Page 8

by Angela Verdenius


  “I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” Nick muttered. “Are you for real?”

  “As real as I’m sitting here.”

  Harly’s eyes were sparkling with amusement. “I don’t particularly care, it’s entertaining!”

  “I aim to please.” Bree winked at her.

  Nick snorted. “You’re pulling our legs.”

  “Maybe yes, maybe no.” She pushed her empty plate back. “Harly, that was delicious. Best roast I’ve had in ages.”

  “Worth more than a UFO sighting?”

  “Ahhh…” She squinted thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I could probably have both.”

  “How?”

  “Time travel opens a lot of pathways.”

  This time it was Nick who choked on his last mouthful of iced coffee. Coughing, he grabbed a paper napkin and held it over his mouth, turning away from the table.

  “I read you, mate,” Alex said sympathetically.

  Bree laughed.

  Harly stood up. “I have dessert in the ‘fridge. Everyone ready?”

  Helping her dish up, Bree smirked at Nick as she placed the bowl of stewed fruit and custard before him.

  His eyes glinted up at her. Oh my, is that a promise of retribution? Dearie me, someone is a little sensitive.

  Laughing silently, she sat in her chair and picked up the spoon.

  “Are you continuing to help Paul tomorrow?” Harly asked Alex.

  “That was the plan, unless there’s something you need me to do here?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait.”

  Alex glanced up at the ceiling where the rain had steadied to a low, consistent patter. “Before I head out I’ll go up and check the roof, make sure there are no holes in the tin.”

  “I noticed a couple of the trees have some partially broken branches,” Nick added. “I’ll cut those branches off tomorrow, save further damage.”

  “That happened last night,” Harly said.

  “I could have done that today.” Alex slanted her a stern look. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I know how much you were looking forward to hanging out with the boys.”

  “That makes me sound juvenile.”

  “Well, if the shoe fits…”

  “You’re lucky we have guests or I’d be making you squeal.”

  Harly simply raised her eyebrows at him while licking her spoon clean.

  Yep, Alex’s eyes had gone all hot, and it wasn’t with anger. Amused, Bree looked at Nick, startled when he suddenly winked at her.

  Ignoring the sudden little flutter deep in the pit of her stomach, she glanced down at her bowl. Almost immediately, she forced herself to glance back up to find him watching her with humour sparkling in his eyes.

  The louse knew he’d flustered her.

  The rest of the evening went without further mention of aliens or the unexplained. They sat around the table drinking coffee and chatting about Whicha, Maryanne’s new room-in-progress, happenings around Whicha of the ‘normal’ variety, and general chit-chat.

  Nick proved to be quite entertaining with a wicked sense of humour that had everyone laughing. It was a nice group of people, and Bree was as relaxed as though in her own home.

  As the grandfather clock in the lounge bonged ten o’clock, she sighed and sat back, stretching leisurely. “Ah man, this has been a great, guys, but I better make tracks.”

  Listening, Harly cocked her head to the side. “Rain isn’t so heavy.”

  “It’s fine.” Bree stood. “Let’s get these dishes done and -”

  “No way.” Harly shook her head. “You’re our guest. We’ll do the dishes.”

  “I insist-”

  “As do I.”

  Knowing by the set of her chin that her friend wasn’t going to agree, Bree sighed. “Fine. But next time I’ll bring the sweets. Or next time, you can all come to my place for tea.”

  “It’s a date.” Harly started for the kitchen doorway. “I’ll see you out to the car.”

  “No need. It’s cold out and you’ll only get colder.” Bree placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “I-”

  “I insist.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Nick moved up beside Bree. “I’ll see her out to the van while you two start the dishes.”

  Alex pulled a face. “It warms my heart to see the sacrifices you’ll make to avoid dishes.”

  “Nice,” Bree remarked. “I’m a sacrifice.”

  Almost immediately he began, “I didn’t mean-”

  “I know.” She laughed. “Don’t sweat it.”

  Alex jerked his thumb at Nick. “It’s all his fault.”

  “I can see that.” Bree raised her hand. “Toodles, all.”

  Alex and Harly waved goodbye and crossed to the sink, Alex snagging the tea towel on the way.

  Nick followed Bree out. She could feel him right behind her, his presence filling the hallway as she pulled on her coat. Reaching for the red scarf, she was surprised when he flicked it off the hallstand and in one easy move flipped it over her head and wrapped it snugly around her throat.

  “Trying to strangle me?” she asked, nonplussed.

  He gave a half grin. “Just making sure you’re rugged up enough.”

  “Want to button my coat, too?”

  It was a shock when he actually reached for the buttons. “Sure.”

  The smack she dealt his hand was a little harder than she’d intended. “We’re not that cosy yet.”

  He stilled, the laughter in his eyes giving way to something a little warmer. His purred “Yet?” sent liquid warmth right through her.

  Geez, Harly must have put something in that custard.

  Regaining her senses, Bree frowned up at him. “Maybe never.”

  “Never is a long time.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’m hurt.” He leaned a little closer, which was quite heady when he practically towered over her. “Are you saying we could never get cosy?”

  Seeking her self-confidence, she lifted her nose in the air. “We don’t know each other well enough yet for that.”

  “There’s that ‘yet’ again.” Unexpectedly, he lifted his hand to tap her lightly on the nose with a fingertip. “Are you sure we don’t know each other well enough…yet?”

  Whoa, that could be a very loaded question. Bree looked up at him. Was he referring to their shared letters? Yes, he was, but he still wasn’t telling her straight out and that rang alarm bells.

  Time to prod a little. “What would make you think we know each other well enough…yet?”

  His smile was slow, lazy, a complete contrast to his gaze which sharpened. “What makes you think we don’t…yet?”

  Hmmm, this was getting tricky. Time to play the quitting game.

  Flinging the end of the scarf over her shoulder, she sniffed and turned on her heel. “I better get going before the rain gets heavy again. Toodles, Nick.”

  “Saying goodbye again?”

  She froze. Goodbye? Again?

  “Like you did-”

  In her last letter!

  “-in the kitchen?”

  Idiot! You have to play the game until you know what he’s up to! “Bad habit of mine,” she replied easily. “Plus politeness. You see me out and I bid you goodbye.” Taking hold of the doorhandle, she opened it a fraction, a cold wind cutting through her as the protection was pulled back.

  A big hand came over her head to lay flat against the wood, snapping the door shut. The warmth at her back, his presence, surrounded her. She stared at the door and swallowed. For once, her wits scattered.

  “By the way…” His warm breath stirred the hair at her ear, causing a shiver to go through her. “You are nowhere near built like Little Lottie.”

  It took her several seconds to think of a reply, and what she asked wasn’t what she’d intended. “What am I built like, then?” Damn! Really? I had to ask? Like I care what he thinks?

  Something soft yet firm brushed across her earl
obe. Oh God, his lips? As she stood frozen, trying to get her thoughts in order, a big hand came to rest on her waist beneath her hip length coat, long fingers spreading out to gently squeeze.

  “There’s a special name for women like you,” Nick said softly, deeply.

  “I d-doubt it’s polite,” she stammered.

  “Rubenesque.”

  Stunned, she stood staring at his big hand on the door. Rubenesque?

  “That means you’re all curves.” His fingers flexed again on her waist before trailing away to rest in the small of her back under the coat. A trail of heat was left in the wake. “I like curves.” Before she could even grasp what he was saying - hinting? - he reached around and opened the door. The cold hit her in the face, making her gasp and blink. “You better hurry to the car before you freeze.” Nick’s hand at her back eased her forward at the same time he swung the security screen open. “I’ll wait here until you go.”

  Totally befuddled at what had just happened, Bree took refuge in dashing out into the light drizzle. Opening the passenger door of the van, she got in, slammed it shut and crawled over the brake to get into the driver’s seat. Refusing to think, she started the van and put it in gear, releasing the brake before staring across to the veranda.

  Nick stood on the veranda, the light behind him outlining his tall, muscular body. Even though his features were cast in shadow, she felt his gaze.

  Holy crap, did she ever feel his gaze. Just like she still felt the heat of his hand on her waist and then back, the brush of his lips against her ear, the warmth of his body behind her.

  Holy crap!

  A quick wave she wasn’t sure he saw and Bree turned down the driveway. Only when she was out on the open road did she suddenly sag a little.

  God, had he actually said he liked curves? That he liked her curves? Okay, he hadn’t actually said he liked her curves, but he’d sure insinuated it.

  The shiver through her wasn’t one of fear. That was clear by the tingle low in her stomach, the way her nipples pebbled…

  Holy crap, if his words got a reaction like this, what would it be like if he put his hands on her naked skin?

  Holy crap again.

  Blinking, Bree thought that maybe, just maybe, she had met a man that she just might drop her panties for…if he ever asked her.

  Which he wouldn’t, and she wouldn’t, because he…what?

  Man, he liked rubenesque women and thought she had a rubenesque figure. She couldn’t stop smiling all the way home. Didn’t matter if he was only trying to be nice, she felt good, and anything or anyone who made her feel good was worth fantasying over a little Especially someone as good looking as Nick Mason.

  Who still hadn’t acknowledged that he knew her from her letters.

  Okay, that last had her frowning a little, but what the hell, right now she’d enjoy the fact that he said he liked curves on a woman.

  She was halfway home when she saw a narrow green beam cutting through the bushes. Immediately she slowed down. A narrow red beam joined it, making her pull to a stop on the side of the road, careful to leave on the emergency indicators in case another car came along.

  The field from which the beams came was set way back from the roadside, more like a field behind a field, which made the beams hard to identify. One slid up into the sky, followed by the other. They definitely came from the ground.

  Man made or alien? Bree glanced around. There was no way to get to the field unless she ditched the van and went on foot.

  A shine over a rise further back in the field caught her eye, a brightness that illuminated from behind the hill. It rose higher, higher again, and she leaned forward over the steering wheel to stare at it in fascination. Was it going to clear the hill, rise up in the sky?

  Fumbling in the glove box, she kept her gaze on the glow as she sought out the camera, pulling it from the glove box and angling it to her eyes. She started clicking, catching the rising light, catching the thin laser beams that angled towards it.

  Then it all went dark.

  Blinking, she raised her head, peering out the rain-spattered windscreen.

  The red and green laser beams cut through the bushes again, the glow flared to life.

  Getting out, she moved to the front of the van to take several more shots. This time the light didn’t move, just glowed behind the hill. She waited for several more minutes but it didn’t move.

  Never one to back down from a discovery, Bree took a small can of hair spray from the cupboard in the back and stuck it in her back pocke, before locking the van and slinging the strap of the camera around her neck. Carefully, she climbed over the wire fence, glad she was wearing long pants. Not that she ever hunted in shorts or dresses, some of the places she’d crawled in the search for UFOs had not been kind to bare skin.

  The tightly-strung wire fence was a challenge but she managed by slinging one leg over and basically almost falling over the other side. Carefully she trudged onwards, not wanting to use the small torch unless it was necessary. The field wasn’t even by any means and she stumbled several times, but keeping her gaze on the light over the hill, she kept moving forward.

  It was further than she realised and by the time she got to it, she was breathing a little harder and feeling decidedly warmer. The light patter of chill rain was almost welcome on her cheeks.

  This time she had to use the little torch, but she kept the glow dull, covering it with a blue handkerchief she kept for the purpose. It was enough to see the ground, but not well, and she fell onto one knee, sliding a little in the mud.

  Swearing beneath her breath, she got back up, ignoring the soggy wetness of the material clinging unpleasantly to her knee.

  No woman every found the truth by being a wiener.

  Nearing the top of the hill, her heart started to beat faster with excitement. The glow was still there, big and bright. The red and green thin laser beams cut through the tops of the trees, flicking this way and that, one from either side.

  A signalling mechanism, perhaps? A way the aliens guided each other? Must have bloody poor eye sight for that, mind you. Lasers to guide the way when there’s a ruddy great light out here?

  Grinning a little, she looked up. About ten more feet and- shit!

  The glow vanished, leaving her in pitch blackness. There was a faint whine, a snap of branches, and the lasers disappeared.

  “No. No no no!” Bree scrambled the remainder of the distance up the hill, topping the rise to stare around.

  Nothing. Yanking the handkerchief from the torch, she flashed the light around, revealing nothing but trees, bushes and soggy ground. She aimed the light downwards to the bottom of the hill, but it showed nothing.

  Cursing, she slid hurriedly down the hill, almost slipping and going the rest of the way on her bum. She came to a halt at the bottom of the hill with one hand braced on the ground, one leg outstretched, the other bent with her mud-laden sneaker gripping the ground precariously.

  Straightening, she angled her head, straining to hear anything that would give her any indication of who - or what - might still be around.

  Silence.

  Light to the ground, she studied her surroundings as she moved forward. No burn marks, no round patches of disturbed soil, but the light could have come from further away so she moved proceeded carefully, sweeping the ground side-to-side with the torch light.

  Wait, was that an indent in the ground? She aimed the torchlight at it. Good grief, it looked like a footprint of some kind, but not one she recognized. It was large, larger than a size twelve male shoe, and it had two deep indents instead of a boot sole or toes. She shifted the torch light, finding another not far off. The marks were already filled with rain. If she wanted a photo she had to move fast and - thunder boomed overhead, making her jump, a streak of lightening splitting the sky.

  “Uh-oh.” She glanced up, grabbing for the camera strap around her neck.

  The clouds let loose a torrent.

  “Holy crap.” Bree st
ood there, the rain pouring around her in a deafening deluge. She sighed. “And shit a brick.”

  Any sign of a spaceship landing, of alien beings walking in the area, was obliterated. There was only one thing for it and that was to return to the van minus any photos.

  By the time the van came into view, Bree was soaked to the skin and covered in mud. One wrist was bleeding from slipping and landing on a rock and she had a tear in her slacks. Swearing, she slung her leg over the wire fence, balanced for several seconds, then took a deep breath and swung her other leg over.

  Her sneaker slipped in the thick mud and she pitched over, landing on her side, her head hitting the gravel.

  “Ouch!” Sitting up, she slapped a hand to her eye. The warmth of blood was against her fingers.

  Eye? No, beside it.

  Getting up, she made her way to the van and unlocked the big side door, pulling it back far enough to get inside, sliding it shut behind her. Reaching up, she flicked on the light, flooding the back of the van with a soft glow.

  Deciding that no one in their right mind would be travelling along the road to see her impromptu striptease, she shrugged out of the jacket, pulled off the wet blouse and slacks, and kicked them into a soggy pile on the floor. Taking a clean cloth from a drawer, she held it to her eye. Opening the wardrobe, she peered into the mirror on the inside of the door.

  Oh boy, she’d gotten lucky. Whatever she’d hit on the ground, and it looked like a stick mark, she’d scratched herself badly along the bottom right of the eye socket bone. Damn, any closer to the eye and she’d have been in serious trouble.

  Digging quickly through the wardrobe, she drew out a clean, long-sleeved blouse and stretch jeans, along with a clean set of underwear and socks. Pulling them on, she was grateful for the warmth. Topped with a thick jumper and her sock-clad feet in a pair of spare sneakers, she put the wet clothes and sneakers in a plastic bag

  Next, she retrieved the first aid kit and washed the bleeding scratch, applying Betadine liquid along the scratch and then holding a piece of gauze to it to help stop the bleeding. Luckily not too deep, the bleeding stopped within minutes.

 

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