Three Words: A Novella Collection

by Dale, Lindy

  Henry walked around the stall and came to a stop in front of her. Taking her face gently in his large hands, he smiled and leant forward. Then he kissed her. It was a long knee-trembling kiss that sucked the energy from Daisy’s body and replaced it with desire. She could feel the tips of her ears tingling under his fingers.

  Okay, she was willing to concede defeat. She’d been wrong about what she thought she heard. She’d concede defeat if only Henry would kiss her like that again. And again. And again.

  At last, Henry pulled back. Everyone in the shed had stopped to watch. Some people had begun to clap. Others were giving sighs and moans of approval. It was just like when Hugh Grant made the public plea to Julia Roberts in Notting Hill.

  “I… I don’t understand,” Daisy stammered, when she was finally able to speak. “I heard what you said to Georgia.”

  “What? That I thought I’d met the girl of my dreams and I was in love after one night?”

  “Uh, um…. Well, no. I sort of heard her calling me names and when you didn’t defend me, I ran away. I couldn’t bear to be let down again, so I made my escape while I thought I could. You’re not going to let me down are you, Henry?”

  At the other end of the stall, the elderly lady pulled a lace edged hanky from her handbag and began to dab a tear from her eye. Next to her, Mrs. Hanson was clutching a soggy tissue to her chest and smiling from one side of her face to the other. Soon, they’d be passing the popcorn.

  Henry took Daisy’s hands in his, cradling them to his chest. She leant against him. “After we spent that time together last night, I realised how lonely I’ve been and how different I feel when I’m with you. Georgia was livid when I tried to explain. She told me to grow up. I don’t think she believes its possible to feel this way in such a short time but I do.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Look, I can’t promise that we’ll have any sort of future but I can give you a lifetime right now. I think I love you, Daisy. I sort of thought it from the first moment you told me to stand under a tree to get mobile reception.”

  Daisy looked up into Henry’s eyes. “What’re you saying?”

  “Come with me. Stay with me for the rest of the Australian tour. Let’s get to know each other. After I finish this leg, I’ve months of down time. I want to spend it with you. On the farm. Feeding the lambs. I want to be a normal man again. With you.”

  “But Avery? What about Avery? I can’t just leave her.”

  “She could stay in school, couldn’t she? She’s happy. And I can fly her to us when the holidays come. I really want to meet her. She sounds like a great kid.”

  Tears welled in Daisy’s eyes. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be true.

  “I… I… Oh shit. Yes Henry, yes. I’ll come with you.”

  All around them, the crowd erupted. Fists pumped in the air. The flash of a camera made Daisy blink. People called out, “You go, girl!”

  One woman was heard to utter, “If I’d known this was included in the ticket price I would have bought a weekend pass.”

  Henry kissed her again. It was an honest kiss and one that melted the block of hurt that Daisy had constructed around her heart.

  At last, he let her go.

  “I’ll have to go home and break the news to Avery first. I promised I’d take her to the movies next weekend and out for dinner and I want to do that. We spend so little time together.”

  “Sure. You just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll get Georgia to organise you a plane fare.”

  “And I’ll need to find someone to look after the sheep and Rex.”

  “I can do that,” Mrs. Hanson chimed in. “Before David died, we had quite a flock of our own. And it’d give me something to do taking Rex for a walk every day. I’ll even collect your mail if you give me the post box key. I have to get my own anyway so it’s no trouble.”

  Again, Daisy was flabbergasted. “You’d do that for me, Mrs. Hanson?”

  “Of course, dear. And call me Doreen. You’ve helped so many people in this community over the years; it must be time for you to have some fun especially after what that rotter Jack did. Just make sure you get your photo in the paper a few times. It’d really rub it in if he saw who you’ve moved on to.”

  Daisy laughed. “Well, I guess that’s all sorted.”

  Then Henry swept her into his big strong rock star arms and kissing her full on the mouth carried her from the shed. If this was what her life was going to be like now, she was more than ready.

  THE END

  It Started With A Kiss

  Chapter 1

  Ear buds wedged in her ears and music tuned to an indecent volume to keep out the city noises, Georgie Bird jogged purposefully along the path that wound its way along Riverside Drive, nodding hello to a few regulars running in the opposite direction as she went and side stepping a group of elderly ladies who were out for their daily constitutional. Georgie hated jogging. It made her sweaty, hot and more pink-cheeked than an Eskimo in a sauna but she persevered with the practice because it kept her fit and thin. A good five kilometer run meant she could have her cake and eat it, too.

  With a trail of sweat trickling down the side of her temple, Georgie picked up the pace as her playlist ticked over to a new song. A more up-tempo tune, it made her happy and took her mind off the fact that she was exercising in such a torturous manner. It didn’t, however, provide her with the peripheral vision required to avoid a large mound of dog poop that had been strategically plopped in her path. Georgie felt the squelch before she realized what had happened and even then, she was so engrossed in the song it took until the stench wafted to her nose before it registered. Stopping, she looked back at the path, noting the brownish-greenish pile that was splattered across the path from where she’d stepped in it. She looked at down her sandshoes.

  Shit. Literally.

  The sides of her left shoe were covered in the stuff and, boy, did it reek.

  “Great,” she muttered, wondering why on earth people couldn’t dispose of their dog doings in the proper manner. Honestly, some people just didn’t give a crap.

  Half-smiling at her own pun, Georgie made her way to the grass along the side of the track and sat down, carefully removing her shoe so as not to get the offending material on her fingers. A disgusted shudder rippling through her body, Georgie picked up a stick and began to dig bits of brown from the crevices of her sole. Bile rose in her stomach as she dragged her shoe back and forth on the grass a few times, managing to get most of it off but it still stank to high heaven. So much so, in fact, that it was making her dry reach and she didn’t think she could finish her run while heaving at the same time. If only she had some water to rinse the remains away.

  Then she had the perfect idea. She was sitting on the side of the Swan River, for heaven’s sake. How could she not have thought of it before?

  Standing up, shoe in hand, Georgie hopped across the grass towards the riverbank and knelt down on the side of the river wall. The water was a way down, with the tide being out, but if she stretched far enough she knew she could give her shoe a quick dip, get it clean and put it back on. It’d dry off soon enough.

  Satisfied with the plan, Georgie leant over; reaching her arm into the water and maintaining balance with her other arm, which was holding her iPod. Her shoe barely grazed the surface of the water but she swished and swirled, reaching as far as she safely could without falling.

  At least, that was what she thought.

  Her body appeared to have other ideas on safety and balance and before she knew it, Georgie was chest deep in the murky sand of the riverbank. Her attempt to stop herself from toppling in had only succeeded in making the fall worse and she’d ended up on her bottom in the water with her arms stretched high above her head, one hand holding her stinky shoe, and the other her iPod.

  A frustrated groan escaped Georgie’s lips, followed by a couple of expletives. Now what was she going to do?

  Sand seeping through he
r leggings and into her knickers, Georgie looked hopefully towards the other joggers on the path. It was a sunny day. Plenty of people were out. If she smiled nicely, one of them might take pity on her and offer a hand to pull her out of the drink. The river wall was covered in barnacles and weed and, while she knew she could climb it, she didn’t want to be cut to ribbons in the process. She smiled weakly at a few people but not one of them stopped to lend her assistance. Most of them pretended she didn’t exist and a few of the real sadists smirked at her plight as they ran past. Ignorant asses. There was nothing for it. She’d have to hike a leg up alone.

  Georgie stood up and put her shoes and iPod onto the ledge of the wall. Fingers searching for a grip on the concrete, she flung her leg upwards next to them, cringing at the ripping sound coming from somewhere in the region of her thigh. Or was it her hamstring?

  That was all she needed. Those pants cost her seventy-five dollars. They had special soak-up-the-sweat fabric in the crotch and butt-lifting technology that she was sure wouldn’t work if her bum cheeks were poking out. Georgie leant a little to the left, wiggling her leg as she did, but it was pointless. The pants were firmly snagged and she couldn’t put a hand down to free them without falling into the water again, so she had no choice but to let them tear. And tear they did — into a hole so gaping, the whole of Perth could see she needed a bikini wax.

  Two attempts to hoist herself onto the grassy bank later, Georgie lay prone, catching her breath and trying to get over her annoyance at her own stupidity. It was when she straightened to pick few bits of shell from her thigh that she saw him, jogging along the path towards her and looking all buff and handsome. Georgie blinked.

  Nate Adams. It couldn’t be.

  She flipped her sunglasses down over her eyes and took another look, while pretending to excavate the weed from her sock.

  Nate Adams.

  He hadn’t changed a bit and judging by the pounding that was coming from Georgie’s chest as he drew closer, his effect on her hadn’t changed either. It had been how long? And he could still make her heart race like she’d just done a hundred meter dash.

  Shoving her foot into her dry shoe, Georgie tied the laces and stood up, straightening her damp clothes as best she could. Her heart was thumping uncontrollably now and a goofy smile had spread across her face. It was Nate, the hero of the love story of her life. He was here. Right in front of her.

  As Nate drew close and made to move past, Georgie signaled to him. “Nate!”

  She half expected him to stop and swing back, a beaming smile on his face as he recalled the girl he’d loved when he was seventeen.

  Instead, he gave her a sideways glance and continued down the path, a look of, well, nothing, on his face.

  “Nate?” Georgie called after him.

  This time he did stop. He turned, his expression changing to one of confusion. “Yes?”

  Well, this was a bit awkward.

  Georgie walked towards him, hoping that a closer view would jog his memory. “It’s me.”

  Such had been their relationship that Georgie was positive she wouldn’t have to remind Nate of her name. She knew she looked different since the last time she’d seen him but surely he couldn’t have forgotten her, could he? They’d been in love since they were eight years old. Nate had made her promise to marry him when they grew up. They had a thing.

  Chapter 2

  Georgie was eight when her family moved from Melbourne to Perth. Her dad got a promotion at the lawyer’s office where he worked and, within the space of a month, her life had been packed into a shipping container and transported from one side of Australia to the other. Mum and Dad had been excited about the move and the new house. Georgie hadn’t been that pumped. She liked her school and her friends. She liked that the park was across the road from her house and that, on Saturday mornings, she went to tap classes with Miss Suzie. Georgie didn’t want to move house.

  The first day at her new school had been nerve-wracking, to say the least. The kids all knew each other, they’d been at school together since they were four and their parents had drinks on Friday nights. The girls didn’t look like they wanted more friends and the boys made fun of skinny Georgie in her too long, grey, tartan skirt and her big, blue, school shirt. They made so much fun of her, in fact, that Georgie wet her pants, something she hadn’t done since she was being toilet trained. She was mortified. Especially when she had to suffer the indignity of wearing the spare knickers from the teacher’s cupboard. They were too big and the elastic was loose with age. And they had pictures of My Little Pony on the front. Only babies wore undies with ponies on them. She’d have been far happier if they had pictures of the Spice Girls. Georgie spent the rest of the day hitching the knickers up every time she walked and keeping her eyes to the floor so nobody would notice her. Needless to say, she had no intention of going back to that school again.

  On the second day, having lost the argument with her mother about going to school, Georgie entered the classroom subdued and quiet. All night long she’d prayed to God to make her invisible but he hadn’t answered, so she’d had to get dressed in the big baggy uniform and follow Mum into the classroom. It was as she was putting her lunch order into the basket that she met Nate. He was skinny too, like her, but he was tall and blonde and he had a mouth as big as a football and no front teeth. It made his whole face look like a gaping hole when he grinned. Which he did constantly.

  “I’m Nathan,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling with boyish mischief.

  Georgie looked around. Surely, the boy wasn’t talking to her? After the events of the day before, she’d fully expected the entire class to ignore her. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Well, I’m not talking to the bookshelf. Are you new in our class?”

  Georgie swallowed. She waited for one of the other children to approach Nathan and tell him he shouldn’t talk to the new girl because she wet her pants but everyone else seemed to be waiting to see what this boy would do.

  “Yes. I’m Georgie.”

  “I was sick yesterday. My stupid sister Charlotte gave me Chicken Pox and my mum wanted me to stay home ‘one more day’ to make sure I wasn’t gonna die or anything.” He rolled his eyes as if to say there’d been nothing wrong with him, only girls had to stay home when they got a disease. Then, he held out his arm and pushed up his sleeve, revealing three brownish scabs on underside of his wrist. “See?”

  “Eww,” Georgie said.

  Nathan beamed proudly at having repulsed her. “Have you had Chicken Pox?”

  “When I was five. I have a scar.” She lifted the hair at the nape of her neck, showing him the indent.

  “That’s big.”

  “I know. I have one on my foot, too. I had scabs in my hair and all over my tummy.”

  “I had them under my arms,” Nate countered.

  “I had them between my fingers.” Georgie revealed yet another tiny scar.

  “Coolaphonic.”

  Georgie had no idea what ‘coolaphonic’ meant but it sounded like the type of word she ought to know.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means more awesomer than cool,” Nate replied.

  Georgie nodded, storing the information away.

  Their conversation ended as the bell rang and the children went to sit on the mat ready to begin the day. Nathan squeezed into the space next to another boy and sat beside Georgie. He sat very close so that his knee touched her knee when they crossed their legs and when he was chosen to take the lunch orders to the canteen, he picked Georgie to accompany him. He smiled at her the whole way there and back, chattering incessantly about the things they did at school and the things he liked. He asked if he could come to her house to play one day and Georgie told him he could. She was smitten. Nobody, other than her parents, had ever given her so much attention. When the returned to the classroom five minutes later, Georgie Bird was no longer the geeky wet-your-pants girl. As Nathan held the door open for Georgie to enter bef
ore him, she realized she’d moved up a notch in the classroom pecking order. She had made friends with the coolest kid in the class.

  By the end of the term, Nate — as he liked to be called — and Georgie were best of friends. He was smart and funny and when he held her hand, Georgie felt like she was the only little girl in the world. Nate had a way of getting into mischief but never getting into trouble. He only had to smile his smile at the teacher and say something funny and she forgave him. Not that he was ever really naughty. He was just a bit of a boy. Georgie liked that about him. It was as if she was being mischievous by default.

  Every Friday afternoon, the class was allowed free time if they’d completed their weekly tasks. Georgie and Nate worked hard, so they always got free time and they always chose to play in the back corner of the classroom where the teacher kept the big plastic carton of Lego. Georgie designed houses and Nathan made trucks and cars. One particular day, he made a Lego gorilla that he stomped through Georgie’s village and used to kidnap one of the Polly Pocket dolls she’d put in the castle she’d made. (He’d watched a re-run of King Kong the previous weekend with his dad).

  “Stop it, Nate,” Georgie cried. “Give me back my Polly Pocket or I’ll tell the teacher.”

  Nate held the tiny doll between his fingers. He lifted it high above his head where he knew Georgie couldn’t reach it. “Make me.”

  Knowing Nate would give in if she were upset, Georgie threw a pout in his direction. “Give it back.”

  “No.”

  “But that one’s my favorite. Please?” This time, she really was upset. She wanted that doll back. Nate had a habit of losing things and Polly Pocket dolls were so small he could lose it quicker than she could blink. Her eyes grew watery. Her lip wobbled and she began to bite on her nails, something Georgie never did because Jessica had told her that was how babies were made.