Book Read Free

Saving Wishes

Page 11

by GJ Walker-Smith


  ***

  The dreaded fallout happened sooner than I anticipated. Like any good bully, Jasmine waited until I was alone. Adam hadn’t seen her when we arrived at the café. If he had, there’s no way I would have been left on my own.

  Jasmine ambushed me before I even made it to the steps. The silent treatment had given way to her usual form of insult.

  “Some things never change, do they?” she hissed.

  “Nope. Some things never do,” I smugly agreed.

  She tottered over to me. Already taller than me, she was downright menacing in heels. Her perfume was practically chemical warfare. “You should be really careful, Charli. You wouldn’t want to make a name for yourself...again,” she warned.

  “I don’t think I’m that important, Jasmine. I feel sorry for you if I’m the best you’ve got to talk about.” I took a step back from her to regain some personal space.

  A sly smile crept across her face and I wondered if she was going to lurch forward and rip my throat out. As I turned, she grabbed my arm. I snatched it away and took a step back, out of reach.

  “You have no idea what’s coming,” she said menacingly.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Do your worst.” My tone was intentionally blasé. I refused to think about what her worst entailed. I was certain I’d seen it before.

  It took great effort to appear apathetic as I walked into the café, leaving the chief Beautiful high and dry outside. My heart thumped so hard I could feel it in my toes. Alex stood at the counter, glancing up to smile at me before turning his attention back to the day’s takings.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, making me wonder if I looked like I was about to throw up.

  I stood with my back against the door as if I was barricading us in, not completely sure that Jasmine wasn’t about to storm the building. “Never better.”

  “Jasmine’s still out there, huh?” He already knew the answer.

  “How did you guess?”

  He chuckled, only half paying attention as he reconciled the till. “She’s been out there for ages, waiting for you presumably. What have you done to upset her this time?”

  “What makes you think she’s upset?” I tried to sound innocent but he saw through me, as always.

  “Charli, her mood is dark enough to steal sunlight.”

  “She found out about the whole Adam thing,” I explained, trying to appear nonchalant.

  His head snapped up and I suddenly had his undivided attention.

  “What Adam thing?” he pressed, walking around the counter.

  I whispered as if we weren’t alone in the room. “The Adam-and-Charli thing.”

  He nudged me out of the way of the door so he could bolt it. I couldn’t understand what he mumbled under his breath and I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to.

  14. Jailbreak

  Every one of the thirty-two days since Adam had nearly mown me down in the car park had slipped by much too quickly.

  School was an annoying commitment that bit hard into my social schedule.

  “Miss Blake,” said Gabrielle, too loudly. Both of her hands slammed down on my desk, snapping me back to reality.

  “Yes?”

  “Am I keeping you from something?”

  Being the sister of the love of her life wasn’t exactly working to my advantage. There had been an unlikely truce forged between us in the weeks since I’d discovered her relationship with Alex. Out of school we were friendly. She was supportive of my relationship with Adam, managing to talk my pigheaded brother around on several occasions when it came to me pleading for more freedom. During school hours she rode me just as hard as she always had.

  “Excuse me?” I asked. My voice buckled at my blatant attempt to buy more time to think of an acceptable answer.

  “Am I keeping you from something?” she repeated, slowly this time as if I was mentally slow.

  “Someone, more like,” mumbled Lisa Reynolds from three rows behind.

  I’d given up reacting to the snide comments. Everyone assumed Gabrielle’s treatment of me was down to the fact that I’d shamelessly stolen her cousin. The truth was much simpler. She was hard on me because I deserved it. Meeting Adam had done nothing to improve my French, or my motivation to learn French. I was a terrible pupil for her before, and just as terrible now – possibly worse.

  The Beautifuls had taken my newfound love life particularly hard, baiting me at every opportunity. I didn’t even know what was spurring them on any more. At first I’d put it down to jealousy, but even though they had long since given up the chase for Adam’s affections, I remained fair game. None of them missed an opportunity to blow things wildly out of proportion. Being the subject of gossip and baseless rumour wouldn’t have bothered me so much if not for the fact that it always made its way back to Alex. It annoyed me that he felt the need to question me about it. I guess I’d spent so long doing the wrong thing that nothing seemed impossible to him.

  Gabrielle strode down the aisle. “Time is up. Pass in your papers please.” Even her authoritative tone was musical. Blind panic set in as her heels clicked closer to me. In the forty-five minutes I’d had to complete the impromptu French comprehension test, I’d finished only a handful of questions. More pathetically, it was multiple choice.

  Before I could circle any more, Gabrielle was standing with her palm outstretched. She gave up waiting for me to hand it to her and snatched it out of my grasp. Her eyes scanned the page for a second before thumping it back on the desk.

  “Perhaps you need more time,” she suggested, in a tone nowhere near as gentle as her words. “I look forward to the pleasure of your company this afternoon, Charli. In detention.”

  I heard Lisa’s cackle behind me. Gabrielle was two desks ahead of me now and didn’t give me another look. By the time she reached the blackboard at the front of the room, two more classmates had made the detention list.

  “At least you won’t be lonely, Charli,” goaded Lisa, too loudly for her own good.

  Mademoiselle Décarie dropped the chalk on to the ledge of the board and spun around. “No, she won’t. You will be here too.”

  “No. I can’t,” she protested. “I have plans.”

  “And now your plans have changed.”

  “Well, thank you, Charli,” sang Lisa, saying my name like it was poison.

  “You’re welcome,” I replied, cheerily.

  The next sound I heard from Lisa was practically a growl. I swear I saw the corner of Gabrielle’s mouth curl as she tried to suppress a smile.

  The first opportunity I had to call Adam came at lunchtime. “Don’t worry about picking me up this afternoon,” I said, easing into the tale.

  “Oh, you have a ride?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

  I tried to mimic his formal tone. “No. I am being detained. Gabrielle sentenced me to afternoon detention.”

  “Nice one, Coccinelle. Was it your fault?”

  “Entirely,” I admitted.

  Sharing lunch with Nicole was about the only thing that hadn’t changed in my life. Every day we met at the same picnic bench we’d been frequenting since the beginning of our high school careers. I dumped my bag on the table; fossicking for the less than impressive lunch I’d packed that morning.

  “Hello,” she greeted, not looking up from the book she was engrossed in.

  “Hi. What are you reading?”

  “Nothing you’d be interested in.” She had a point. She marked her page and slipped it into her bag and looked at me for the first time. “What’s the matter?”

  I rushed through the details of my upcoming detention, glossing over the fact that it was well deserved. Nicole looked so bored that I expected her to take her book out of her bag and begin reading again.

  “So that’s my afternoon ruined,” I complained.

  She shrugged. Her indifference was beginning to annoy me. Even more annoying were the text messages she kept receiving every few seconds.

  “You�
��re popular today.” I forced a smile but she didn’t notice. Her fingers furiously tapped at the buttons on her phone as she typed her reply. “Okay. I give up.” I threw my hands in the air in frustration, slapping them down loudly on my knees. “Who are you texting?”

  “Lisa.”

  That was one answer I wasn’t expecting.

  “Ugh! What is she up to?” My eyes quickly scanned the crowded quadrangle, looking for any sign of an impending ambush by the Beautifuls.

  “We’re going to Sorell after school today, shopping.” She spoke absently, implying it was no big deal.

  “Lisa scored detention too,” I said gravely.

  Suddenly, I had her undivided attention. “Because of you?” Her eyes widened. She gathered her belongings off the table and threw them into her bag. “Well done, Charli. It’s the first time in ages I’ve made plans without you and you still manage to mess them up,” she scolded.

  “Yeah, well a shopping trip with Lisa Reynolds would end up messy anyway, with or without me.”

  To me, the idea of a long car ride to Sorell with Lisa followed by hours of window-shopping was equal to Chinese water torture. I’d assumed Nicole felt the same way.

  “That isn’t the point. You’re upset because your plans with Adam have been ruined. At least you had plans. You always have plans. I’m just trying to do the same.” Her voice trailed off.

  I felt selfish. Lunchtime was practically the only time we had spent together lately, and it was completely my fault.

  “I’m sorry, Nic.”

  “Ugh. Don’t be. I don’t want really want to go shopping with Lisa,” she replied, dropping the choler from her voice.

  “So why did you agree to go then?”

  “She caught me at a weak moment.” A smile swept her face and I knew I was forgiven.

  “Well, if you think about it, I’ve actually done you a favour. I think we should do something tomorrow. Just the two of us.”

  “What about lover boy?” Her face was serious but her tone wasn’t.

  “I’m sure he’ll be able to fend for himself for a while,” I replied casually.

  It wasn’t Adam I was worried about. I was the one who seemed to have the most trouble operating when we were apart.

  I took my time getting back to Mademoiselle Décarie’s classroom after school. My bag felt as if it was full of bricks. The rest of the inmates were already there. She handed me a new test paper as I walked past.

  “Can I leave when it’s done?” I asked, not hopeful.

  She replied without looking at me. “Yes.”

  “When do I get to leave?” asked Lisa caustically.

  “When Charli’s finished,” replied Gabrielle. She was enjoying herself a bit too much.

  Lisa huffed, folded her arms and leaned back. “I hope you’re happy,” she said, glaring at me. It was hard to imagine she could see when she squinted like that.

  “Thrilled,” I replied, turning my attention to my test paper.

  We’d been holed up for less than half an hour when Lisa’s theatrics began. Huffing and puffing followed by snide little whispers. Gabrielle ordered us to behave before excusing herself from the classroom with her empty coffee mug in hand.

  As soon as she was out sight, Lisa moved to the row behind me. A vicious tug on my ponytail a few seconds later followed.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed.

  “That’s the first time you’ve said that in a while,” she said crassly.

  Todd Wilson and David Hamilton, the other inmates, leered at me.

  Gabrielle returned, and sat without a word. Twenty minutes passed in silence. Lisa’s glare boring into my back did nothing for my concentration. Flicking through the pages in front of me, I groaned, wondering how I’d fare statistically if I guessed the answers.

  Gabrielle’s ringing phone sounded ten times louder than usual in the silence. She walked out of the room to answer it in private.

  I waited for Lisa to start on me but it didn’t happen. She was distracted by rapping on the window. The afternoon suddenly got brighter. Unable to hide my smile, I walked to the window and slid it open.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, grinning down at him.

  “Is Gabi in there?” Adam whispered, pointing past me. I shook my head and smiled. “I came to break you out,” he said, grinning.

  “She won’t let me go,” I said, half whispering my words.

  Lisa’s chair made a screech. I rolled my eyes at Adam, warning him that she was coming.

  “Hi Adam,” she purred.

  “Hello,” he said politely.

  “Are you here to save us?” she asked.

  “Inadvertently.”

  “Cool,” she replied, probably thinking he’d answered her in French.

  “Charli, pass me your paper.”

  I dropped the papers down to him. Caught by the wind, they fluttered to the ground in a messy heap.

  “Sorry.”

  Adam filled in the answers quicker than I could have read the questions.

  “You’re cheating,” hissed Lisa.

  “Technically,” I muttered, speaking more to myself than to her.

  Adam passed the papers back. I didn’t even bother looking at them, focusing on him as he winked at me.

  “You’re going to get caught,” warned Lisa, folding her arms and tapping her foot on the floor.

  “She’ll only get caught if you tell,” said Adam, using his velvet voice to daze her.

  “I would never tell. I’m not a snitch. I’m just pointing out that one way or another, Charli always gets caught.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” he said. I couldn’t be sure that she’d recognised the menace in his tone. “Go,” he ordered, grinning at me.

  I slid the window shut.

  “How are you going to keep them quiet?” asked Lisa, pointing to Todd and David like they were the enemy.

  I sat back, looking at my fellow inmates. David grinned at me but Todd remained stony-faced.

  “Alright, from the beginning. A C C B C D….” I read, rattling off the answers on my page.

  I heard the familiar sound of Gabrielle’s heels clicking on the hard floor. My voice got quicker and more frantic as she got closer and so did their writing. By the time she walked in, I’d given away all but the last four answers.

  Jumping out of my seat, I was at her desk before she was, waving my papers at her. “Can I go now?”

  “Eighty percent is a pass. Do you think you passed?” she asked, intent on torturing me some more.

  “I’d bet money on it,” I replied, too smugly for someone begging for parole.

  The room was so quiet I could hear her pen scratching across the page as she marked. Finally she spoke. “Eighty-six percent. Not too bad,” she praised.

  Eighty-six percent? Impossible! Adam’s French literacy skills were slipping.

  “Can I go?”

  “Yes. I have better things to be doing too, you know.” Her tone was sharp but I was fairly sure she’d forgiven me already.

  “Finally,” said Lisa, groaning out the word.

  She picked up her bag and stormed out of the classroom before I’d finished packing my books. Todd and David handed their papers in and I walked out before Gabrielle finished marking them, hoping they’d had the sense to change a few of their answers. It was after four. Cursing myself for wasting so much of the afternoon, I rushed to the car park. Every atom of stress disappeared the minute I saw him. He leaned against his car, arms casually folded, looking more like an angel than a devious criminal who had managed to prematurely free me from detention.

  Stretching up to link my hands around his neck, I smiled at him.

  “What?” His voice sounded worried and I wondered if he knew the urge to kiss him to death was spreading across my chest.

  “Nothing.”

  He leaned so close that his lips brushed my mouth as he spoke. “How did we score?”

  I couldn’t remember the mark
on my test. I was having trouble remembering the subject matter at that point. “Ah, eighty something,” I murmured. “A very disappointing result.”

  He laughed. “I could hardly give you a perfect score. I doubt today would have been the best time to showcase your newfound appreciation of the French language.” The mischievous sparkle in his eyes threatened to destroy my train of thought again.

  “No, I guess not,” I breathed, leaning my face in closer to his again.

  His lips brushed mine, just once, softly and sweetly. “You know what today is right?”

  “Friday?” I was so flustered that I actually sounded unsure.

  “Exactly.”

  Alex and Gabrielle usually escaped town on Friday nights. They were prepared to take the long drive to Hobart for dinner, just so they could walk around town anonymously. Gabrielle was tired of the secrecy, but she loved him. The small gesture of being able to walk down the street while he held her hand made her remember why.

  Adam’s hand rested on the small of my back, crushing my body against his. “So where are we going?” he asked.

  “The beach,” I replied.

  The sunshine was a welcome intruder on the winter’s day. It wasn’t enough to make me take my coat off, but it was bright enough to make-believe it was warmer than it was. The beach seemed like the best place to enjoy it.

  We headed to the surf beach below Gabrielle’s cottage. Alex usually picked me up from her house when he dropped Gabrielle off after dinner. Maybe he thought I was more likely to behave there than at our house.

  It wasn’t exactly deserted. A handful of surfers hung on the break and a few people making the most of the unseasonal sun meandered along the beach.

  “Well this is cosy,” said Adam.

  I sat on the sand and pulled him down beside me. “Do you want to leave?”

  “No.”

  I smiled and looked away, turning my attention to the ocean. The bright sun glinted off the spiky waves like diamonds.

  “I saw you and Alex out there this morning,” he said.

  “Did you?” I asked. “Were you down here?”

  “No,” he said, “but you should probably know that I spy on you a lot when you’re out there.” His voice was unrepentant, his smile too cheeky to be sorry.

  “Wow. Really?” My tone was dry, not at all surprised.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen the binoculars Gabi has in the lounge room. She would never admit it but she uses them to keep tabs on Alex when he’s playing penguin king. I find it much more interesting to spy on the penguin princess.” He suddenly looked pensive. “You’re different out there, you know.”

  “How?”

  “You’re strong out there. Fearless and unafraid, which confuses me. I hate the thought of swimming out there because it’s dark and you can’t see what’s underneath.” His low voice was thoughtful. I frowned, unsure of where he was heading. “It’s like the blackest kind of night, Charlotte, endless and dark, and it’s the place that you’re most comfortable.”

  I felt embarrassed that he’d put so much thought in to it. “It’s not endless, Adam.”

  “No?” he asked, turning back to me.

  “No. The ocean has a horizon, sky above it, a beach on at least one side, and if I was unlucky enough to sink below the water I’d eventually hit the bottom.”

  He raked his hand through the sand. “I love the way you see the world,” he marvelled.

  “La La Land,” I said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Alex tells me I live in La La Land,” I explained. “I think he worries that when I go away, I’ll find some hippy commune on a deserted island, start wearing hemp clothing and stop shaving my legs.”

  He grinned. “Nicole will be pleased.”

  My face twisted at mention of her name. It was a reminder of the ground I had to make up. I hadn’t treated Nicole well over the past few weeks. We’d spent years wasting away hours planning our big adventure, but since Adam had hit town, it had barely rated a mention. Nothing about our travel plans had altered since we were eight years old. But I was beginning to realise that was a lie. When all was said and done, if the perfect boy laying beside me in the sand were to change his mind about taking me with him, I would go.

  Had I become that fickle? Would I seriously consider breaking my best friends heart to preserve my own? Yes I would. And I hated myself for it.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  He gently pulled me back onto the sand. I gazed upward, lost in the view of the clear sky, but his eyes never left my face. For some reason, he only ever saw the good in me.

  15. Surprise

  Time alone with Adam was the thing I craved most. More than sunshine, clear skies and food, as it turned out.

  “You’re not hungry?” he asked, watching me from the opposite side of the dining table.

  “Not really,” I admitted, placing my fork on my plate.

  Gabrielle was like Jekyll and Hyde. One minute she was holding me against my will in her dreadful French class, and the next she was making sure there was dinner in the fridge for us.

  “So if we’re not going to waste time eating, maybe we could use this time together a little more productively,” he suggested, flashing me an errant grin.

  “Did you have something in mind?”

  The calculating look on his face told me he did. He made enough room for me to sit on his lap. I twisted one of the buttons on his shirt – which is where I kept my focus, avoiding his eyes.

  “We could work on the boat,” he suggested.

  The way he held me tighter when I tried to stand up made me think he seriously considered scraping paint off a boat a good way to spend a night alone.

  “No,” I said crossly.

  I struggled harder against his grip and he released me immediately. I put some distance between us. Adam remained seated, a bulletproof look on his face, obviously plotting his next move.

  “Just for an hour or two,” he pleaded, unsuccessfully trying to conceal his smile.

  “You’re crazy. It’s dark and cold, and that’s a stupid way to spend our night together.” I waved vaguely at the black windows.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he admitted.

  “What? A new power sander?”

  “No,” he murmured. “The one Alex lent me works just fine.”

  “So, what is it?”

  “You’ll see,” he replied, giving nothing away.

  He stood and pulled me to him, and as his lips melted on to mine I closed my eyes, concentrating on nothing other than remembering how to breathe. I felt too weakened by his touch to speak. I didn’t even notice when he stepped away to grab our coats. By the time I opened my eyes he had his on and was holding mine out. The metal press-studs snapped loudly as he buttoned my coat all the way up to my neck, as if I was five years old.

  “I don’t want you to be cold,” he explained, grinning craftily. “Okay. Ready?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you.” His tone was sweet but the look on his face convinced me he was still scheming.

  “No deals.”

  “I’ll go surfing with you in the morning if you come out to the shed with me tonight.”

  I saw no lack of honesty in his eyes. He’d made no secret of his acute dislike of the ocean – the thought of swimming in it at least.

  “Really?”

  “You have my word, Charlotte.” He placed his hand on his heart.

  “Fine,” I surrendered. “Let’s get this over with.” He picked the throw rug off the couch on our way out.

  His surprise had nothing to do with the boat. He slid the huge shed door open and the fluorescent light flickered a few times before settling, casting enough light for me to see that the boat looked exactly as it had the last time I’d seen it.

  Something in my expression made him smile. I watched in silence as he walked to the far end of the shed, picked up an old
milk crate and brought it back. Bundling up the throw rug as a makeshift cushion, he dropped it on the crate.

  “Sit, please. I just have to find something.”

  I got the impression we were going to be there a while. Adam rifled through boxes of tools and the pockets of a coat he’d left there earlier, searching for the surprise.

  “If you tell me what it is, I could help you look for it,” I suggested.

  “I can’t believe I’ve lost it,” he said, glancing across at me as he upended a box of junk on to the shed floor. “I only picked it up this afternoon.”

  “Is it big or small?”

  “Small.”

  “Well, the light in here is not very good,” I reasoned. “Why don’t you wait until morning?”

  Ignoring the mess he’d just made, Adam stepped over the pile of tools and headed back towards me. I met him half way, happy to take his hand when he reached out. He stood in front of me and I studied his face closely. His eyes were never cold and piercing as blue eyes often are. They were cerulean, intense and deep, like the rest of him. Finally, his lips, cold from the night air connected with mine, sending a shudder through me.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered, leaning back to look at me again.

  “Yes?”

  “You have to breathe,” he reminded me.

  I felt my body tense as I sucked in a much needed breath. My fingers began to tingle and I wasn’t sure if it was due to a lack of oxygen or the cold night air. His hand moved to my neck and he popped open the first two buttons of my coat. My chest was heaving with each gulp of air that I forced into my lungs but I didn’t flinch as his cold hand slipped inside my coat.

  “Your heart is hammering,” he said, sounding bewildered by my over-the-top response to his touch.

  “I know,” I said, struggling to regain some control of myself.

  His hand slid free of the warm confines of my coat. His body shifted away and I wished I hadn’t said anything.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, walking back to the tools he’d dumped on the floor.

  “Why do you do that?” I asked, failing to conceal my frustration.

  He continued throwing tools back in the box, pausing to glance at me.

  “Do what?”

  “You know what.”

  For a moment, I had been hopeful that the not-so-good side of him, the side that peeked at me through the mirror while I was half naked and helped me cheat my way out of detention, was winning. The heat radiating from our bodies might have been enough to numb the chill of the air but it wasn’t enough to numb the good, responsible side of Adam.

  “Do you really want to do this here, Charlotte?” he asked quietly, making me wince as he threw a spanner into the box at his feet. “In a cold shed?”

  “I wanted to stay inside,” I reminded him, making it known why I’d protested leaving the house in the first place.

  His eyes drifted up to meet mine. He spoke seriously. “When the time is right, we’re going to have the whole night together, not a few rushed hours while Gabi and Alex are at dinner.”

  The mere mention of Gabrielle and Alex killed the mood instantly. He might as well have doused me with iced water. An entire night alone was impossible. There was no way my brother would loosen the reins that much. Adam should know better than to even hope for that kind of scenario, and I told him so.

  “So he’d rather you sneaked around behind his back?”

  “Of course he would,” I snapped. “That’s exactly what he expects from me.”

  A tool crashed into the box, making me wince. He was annoyed.

  It was a pointless argument that neither of us was going to win. Thankfully Adam wasn’t as stubborn as me. He knew when to quit, expertly changing the subject to something trivial. He was also good at compromise, spending only a few more minutes looking for the mystery package before giving up for the night.

  We returned to the warmth of the house and I spent the rest of the night curled in his arms on the couch, half watching a movie that was so tacky it had gone straight to DVD. Adam gave up even pretending to watch it after a few minutes, opting for one of Gabrielle’s French novels. A foil gum wrapper fluttered out of the book as he flipped it open. Leaning across, I picked it up from its landing spot. I’d never known Gabrielle to chew gum. The sticker on the spine of the book indicated that the tattered novel was a library book. Realistically, the forgotten litter could have come from anywhere.

  Something about my expression made him question what I was thinking.

  “I remember my mum used to chew a lot of gum,” I said, smoothing the wrapper on my knee. “The smell of peppermint, and gum wrappers as it turns out, always reminds me of her.”

  He smiled, snapped the book shut and gently placed it on my lap. “What else do you remember?”

  “Not much. I remember her singing to me, always singing to me.”

  “They’re nice memories to have, Charli,” he whispered, tangling his fingers through my hair.

  I picked the book up and handed it to him. “Will you read it to me?” I asked, craning my neck to look at him.

  “Shall I translate?” he asked, amused.

  “No, read it in French.”

  “You won’t understand it.”

  “I don’t need to understand it. I just need to hear it.”

  I had been drunk only once in my life. Nicole and I had stolen a bottle from her parents’ liquor cabinet when we were fifteen. The way Adam sometimes looked at me reminded me of my headspace after first few mouthfuls of whiskey – warm and giddy, tinged with euphoria. Thankfully the puking, headache and morning-after lecture from Alex never followed.

  “You’re so incredibly special, Coccinelle,” he said, manoeuvring my body so my head rested in his lap.

  “Just shut up and read, piglet,” I replied, making him laugh.

  I closed my eyes, concentrating on his voice but not attempting to decipher his words. He could have been reading from the TV guide for all I cared. His accent captivated every bit of my attention, which is why I didn’t hear Alex and Gabrielle arrive home.

  “Ready to go?” asked Alex, jolting me back to reality.

  I sat up, peering over the back of the couch to look at him.

  “Now?”

  “It’s after eleven, Charli.” Something about him was off.

  Our night was over and a twinge of sadness hit me. Our nights together were limited – and that knowledge was beginning to sting.

  The drive home was quiet and tense. Alex had a habit of stewing over things. If he was upset about something, I was sure to hear about it eventually. I leaned my head against the cold car window, gazing upward at the night sky as it whizzed past.

  “Do you want me to wind the window down?” teased Alex.

  I smiled. “No. How was dinner?”

  My gaze returned to the darkness outside as he replied. I was only half paying attention to his reply until he mentioned something about Nicole working the next day. It jogged my memory and I realised I’d double booked myself.

  “Oh, Nicole can’t work tomorrow. We’ve made plans,” I told him.

  The look Alex gave me was dark. I smiled at him, still marvelling over the fact that my social life had picked up enough for me to be double booked in the first place.

  “If she doesn’t work it, I’ll have to,” he said.

  “I know. Please, Alex. Please, please,” I begged, batting my eyes at him.

  He laughed hard, just once. “Does that look work on anyone?” he asked.

  I grinned. “Yes. You. Every time. You just don’t realise it.”

  16. Confession

  It wasn’t until I arrived at Gabrielle’s house the next morning that I realised it was a ridiculously early time to be visiting. Adam Décarie was clouding my every thought and any common sense I once had was long gone. I crept on to the veranda in stealth mode, unsure if I was going to be waking anyone.

  I hated sleeping in on weekends. The thought of wa
sting a single minute of a free day sleeping was ridiculous. Obviously the Décarie’s thought differently. It was so quiet that if I didn’t know better, I’d have said the house was deserted. I didn’t want to knock. Visions of Gabrielle coming to the door, furious with me for waking her from her beauty sleep, popped into my head. I really did not want to knock on the door.

  I tiptoed along the veranda, heading towards the back of the house. The sun shone brightly for the second day in a row, glistening off the ocean like a multifaceted jewel. I stood for a minute taking it all in, wondering how Gabrielle managed to score the most prime real estate in the Cove.

  Something else caught my eye. Lying on the wet grass was the white mohair blanket from the night before – except it wasn’t white any more. It was dirty and stretched out in an odd shape. I was definitely glad I didn’t knock on the door. If she didn’t kill me for waking her up early on a Saturday morning, she would surely kill us for ruining her blanket. I scooped it off the ground, rolling it up.

  The blanket wasn’t the only discarded item on the lawn. Next to it was a small brown velvet box. It took a long minute before I bent down and picked it up, gingerly as if it might explode in my hands. Shoving the box into my pocket and ignoring the small voice in my head screaming at me to open it, I continued around the house to Adam’s window.

  The white curtains were sheer but peering through them, I saw nothing. Tapping lightly on the glass didn’t rouse him so I changed tack and tried my hand at breaking and entering.

  The window slid open remarkably easily considering the frames were wood and constantly battered by salty ocean air. I smugly considered a career as a cat burglar until my entrance through the window brought me back to my senses. There was nothing catlike about it. My foot got stuck on the ledge as I levered myself up, sending me toppling to the floor with a thud. Unbelievably he didn't wake. He didn’t even stir.

  I watched him sleep for a minute, his face even more perfect than usual. His body was covered by a thick quilt, leaving only his bare arms exposed. I had to touch him. My fingertips were only millimetres from his skin when I jerked back with fright at the unexpected sound of his voice.

  “I’m awake, Charli.” He smiled but kept his eyes closed.

  “For how long?” I asked, too mortified to be angry. “I’ve been staring at you like an imbecile and you’ve been awake the whole time?”

  Reaching for my hand, he pulled me the short distance across the bed. His warm arms wrapped around me as I lay with my back to him. He rested his chin on my shoulder, smoothing my hair with his hand to keep it out of his face.

  “I woke when you fell through my window,” he murmured. “Is there a reason you’re gracing me with your presence so early?”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Never,” he whispered.

  He tightened his grip around my chest and planted a quick kiss on my neck. Suddenly the brown box was burning a hole in my pocket.

  “I brought Gabrielle’s blanket in. We left it outside,” I told him. “It’s ruined, Adam.”

  “I’ll buy her a new one,” he replied, unconcerned by the damage we’d done.

  “I found something else.”

  “Really?” he asked, failing miserably at sounding surprised. “What did you find?”

  I knew even without looking at him that he was smiling. He knew exactly what I’d found and he was going to make me tell him.

  “This,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the dew-soaked box.

  “Did you open it?”

  Twisting myself in his arms, I turned to face him. “No. I didn’t open it. It doesn’t belong to me.”

  Adam took the box from my hand and balanced it on my hip. “It does belong to you. Open it,” he urged, grinning.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it,” he repeated, tapping the lid with his finger. I caught the box as it began to slide off me. “It’s just a trinket, I promise.”

  I could handle a trinket. It wasn’t going to be the magnitude of the million-year-old boat. I wasn’t going to have to find a way to politely refuse.

  “Do you know what it is?” he asked, watching my face as I flipped open the lid.

  I held the necklace above me. The teardrop-shaped black gem encased in the silver pendant shone as it caught the morning sun. Beautiful ribbons of red and green flickered through it.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” I breathed, awed by the unusual stone.

  “What do you know about opals?” he quizzed.

  “They’re symbols of hope, courage, happiness and truth,” I whispered.

  “Très bien. I thought it was the perfect gift for someone about to set out on a voyage of the world. I had Floss make it for you,” he said, murmuring the words against my throat.

  I touched his face with the hand that held the necklace. The fine silver chain tangled around my fingers as I pressed them to his cheek. He leaned forward to kiss me again but I gently held him back, needing to see his eyes.

  “You are the best person I know,” I whispered.

  A sweet, perfect smile swept across his face and I wondered how I’d got so lucky. I didn’t want to move. I could have stayed there forever and never moved again but the hold he had on me lasted only a minute.

  “Are we surfing today?” he asked. “I assume you’re here to make sure I honour my side of the bargain.”

  “No. I’m here to let you off the hook, actually. I have to cancel. I forgot that I made plans with Nicole yesterday,” I said regretfully.

  “I’m so disappointed, Charlotte.” The wily grin betrayed him. It was the look of a boy who’d just been given a reprieve. He’d probably regretted making the deal since the offer tumbled out of his mouth.

  “Liar.” I laughed, breaking his loose hold so I could slide off the bed.

  “Are you leaving already? You just got here.”

  I had to leave. He was in danger of making me stay, just by the way he was looking at me, and that wouldn’t have been fair. Poor Nicole had been pushed to the backburner so many times over the last few weeks that changing today’s plans would have been nothing less than criminal.

  The thought of Gabrielle catching me in his room that early in the morning was another incentive to get out of there. I heard the shower running and knew it would be a good time to escape.

  “Are you going out the window or through the door?” he teased.

  “Which would you prefer?”

  “I’d prefer that you stay here with me.”

  His dark blue eyes locked mine. I turned away because I needed to. Untangling the chain from my fingers, I draped the necklace around my neck, fumbling with the clasp for a few seconds before he appeared behind me. He swept my hair across one shoulder and quickly fastened the clasp. I wasn’t paying attention any more. I was too focused on staring at him through the mirror.

  Standing in front of him shielded little of my view. It was as if it was the first time I’d ever really looked at him. Strong, muscular arms wrapped around my chest, holding me to him. Much taller than me, his body hunched forward to rest his chin on my shoulder, emphasising every muscle on the side of his chest that wasn’t obscured by my body. Obviously, there was merit in running recreationally. He had gifted me the beautiful gem as a token of protection and strength. At that moment, I didn’t need it. He shone brighter.

  Dragging myself away, even for a few hours, was harder than I imagined it could be. I should have been preparing to let him go. The smart thing to do would be to start distancing myself from him now. But I wasn’t smart. I wanted to leave with him – to never have to face time without him – but even in my hazy reasoning I knew it was impossible.

  My preoccupation was obvious to Nicole the minute she met me at the front door.

  “Nice bling,” she complimented, pointing at my necklace. “It’s like those ones we saw in Floss’s shop, remember?”

  I did remember. It was the sole reason I’d accepted it so wil
lingly. A trinket that Floss had made was much easier on my fragile psyche than the Huon sloop.

  Nicole led me to her bedroom. The Lawson house was bigger than ours but it always felt crowded. That probably explained why she spent so much time at mine. I’m sure the fact that Alex lived there had something to do with it too. She’d shared a bedroom with Joanna right up until the wedding, and even after all of her sister’s belongings had gone, the bright pink room still seemed tiny.

  I sat on the low stool at the cluttered dressing table. There were more creams and potions than I’d ever seen in my life – the legacy of having a hairdresser and beautician for a mother. I often wondered how I would have been different had my mother been around while I was growing up. I absentmindedly unscrewed the lid on a pot of cream and sniffed it. The pungent fruity smell that stung my nose snapped me back to reality. Alex had done just fine.

  “Where’s Carol?” I asked, looking past her.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I have to tell you something.” I wanted her mother well out of earshot.

  “Can you talk and fold?” she asked, pointing to a basket of clothes on the bed. She didn’t seem worried. Maybe she knew what I was about to say.

  “I’ve been thinking about going with Adam when he leaves. I really want to but he’s sensible. He talked me out of it.” The words came in a rush as if I had to say it before I lost my nerve. Nicole glanced at me before turning her attention to the shirt she was folding. “Say something, please.” I snatched a denim skirt from the basket.

  “Were you planning to bail on me, Charli? Ditch me at the last minute?”

  I looked away, pretending to concentrate on the skirt. “It sounds awful when you put it like that. I don’t know what I was thinking,” I mumbled.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Do you know?”

  I wanted her to make sense of it for me. I wanted her to make me understand why I had been prepared to abandon my dreams and destroy those of my best friend in the process. I wanted to know why hearing Adam tell me he couldn’t be without me made me hopeful that he would be with me always.

  The skirt was impossible to fold. I rolled it up, much as I’d done with the wet blanket, and threw it back in the basket.

  “I don’t know much about him, Charli, other than the fact that he’s drop dead gorgeous.” She grinned at me and I couldn’t help smiling back. “You tell me why he’s so freaking special that you’d give up all your dreams to be with him.”

  I sat back on the stool, needing the support, while I recounted every event of the last few weeks. My voice sounded embarrassingly wistful as I filled her in on the details.

  Nicole was really the only person who could understand how I felt about him. She’d watched seventeen years’ worth of my insecurities unravel in a few short weeks – only to have new ones surface. I told her that I needed to be with him. My voice took on a tone of desperation as I punched out the words. Such a trite affirmation would never have crossed my lips a few weeks ago, but now it was a statement that held meaning. I’d never been surer of anything in my life, but nothing I said made it sound strong enough, true enough...or gut-wrenchingly painful enough. I could feel my face twisting with emotions I wasn’t sure how to explain.

  The shirt Nicole was folding was forgotten. She stared at me strangely, like she was trying to make sense of my words or at the very least come to terms with the fact that I had just said them. I was the girl who thought boyfriends were for bored girls with no ambition. I was never the girl who believed a boy like Adam existed, let alone dared to hope I’d find him.

  “Wow.” Her voice was understandably incredulous.

  I slumped forward, burying my head in my hands. Something was very wrong with me. “I know, you think I’m an idiot.”

  Nicole sat down on the edge of her bed, sighing heavily. “You’re not an idiot. You love him. I totally get that.”

  My head snapped up to look at her. “Is that what this is?” I asked, speaking as if I’d just been diagnosed with some foreign tropical disease.

  She burst into giggles and I didn’t know why. “You do make things hard for yourself don’t you? You’re such a control freak, Charli. You can’t control this. You just have to go with it.”

  “How am I making things hard for myself?” I asked, continuing my run of stupidity.

  “Well, you could have picked a guy who lives a little closer than a million miles away. And the fact that his cousin is a witch doesn’t help either,” she explained. I cringed when she referred to Gabrielle as a witch. I’d called her far worse in the past, but it seemed wrong now. “So what did Alex say when you told him?” she asked, choosing another random item of clothing to fold.

  “I didn’t,” I confessed. “I’m not going to New York so it makes no difference.”

  “But you will end up with Adam eventually. That means you’re not planning to come back here. He should know that,” she said disapprovingly.

  “I know,” I agreed wearily.

  She tossed the shirt back in the basket. I endured an uncomfortable minute of silence before she finally spoke.

  “Poor Alex. He’ll be heartbroken. He’s cared for you for so long and – ”

  “He’s easily distracted these days.” I cut her off mid-sentence and my tone was unfairly severe.

  No one was more aware of the sacrifices Alex had made than me. I found it infuriating to be reminded of it and I know he despised being thought of as the martyr just as much as I hated being thought of as the damaged little orphan.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  The frown that swept her face made me wonder if I should explain or not. I knew she’d want to know. The whole town would want to know about Alex and Gabrielle.

  “He’s kind of seeing someone,” I confessed, downplaying it by epic proportions.

  “Who?” Her voice sounded urgent – like knowing was a matter of life and death – and I understood at that moment that it was. To her, it was more than a crush. It was her reason for getting out of bed in the morning. I just wish I’d made the connection a few sentences earlier. It was too late to get out of telling her now.

  I looked at the floor and spoke barely louder than a whisper. “Gabrielle Décarie.”

  She sucked in a quick, sharp breath. “Oh.”

  “I know. Weird, huh? I’m still trying to get my head around it. Things are pretty serious. It’s been going on a long time, over a year.” It wasn’t really an explanation. It seemed more like damage control.

  “Gabrielle,” she mumbled, stunned.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told her.

  Nicole stood, fluffing up her newly brunette hair with her hands – a mannerism I’d seen a lot of lately. “Why are you apologising?”

  “I guess...I guess I’ve always known that you like him.”

  My eyes flitted between her and the floor. I felt like I’d just called her out on her deepest, darkest secret.

  A weak smile crossed her face. “It was never going to go anywhere, Charli. I’m not stupid. He’s thirty-four.”

  “I know. He’s old.” I grinned, trying to raise a more genuine smile from her.

  “Alex is one of the good guys. It’s easy to like him. He deserves someone nice, not someone like Gabrielle.” She said her name as if it was a swear word.

  I wasn’t sure if I could be the one to enlighten her about the woman formally known as the Parisienne witch. She was not a witch and Alex did deserve her.

  Her face suddenly changed. The pained look disappeared and she smiled half-heartedly. “How could they have kept it secret for so long? Why would anyone want to do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think they’ll ever tell anyone?”

  “Gabrielle is leaving it up to Alex. I think it’s his decision to keep quiet.”

  “Charli, that’s why she’s stayed here so long.” She spoke with certainty. It was as if all of the mystery that had
shrouded Gabrielle had disappeared once Alex was added to the equation.

  “I know. She’s ready to go back to France and that’s why I’m hoping that when I leave town, he will too. I’m the reason he’s dragging his feet.”

  She smiled but it wasn’t convincing. I smiled back, but I doubt I looked confident either.

  The morning disappeared quickly, just like old times. It seemed months since Nicole and I had spent any time together and I realised just how much I had missed her.

  Knowing I was coming over that morning, her mother had assigned her a mountain of chores to get through, believing that idle hands did the devil’s work – and that I was the devil. I helped her load washing, tidy her room and sweep the back patio while we chatted. I’d always maintained that nothing ever happened in Pipers Cove, but hiding out with Adam had pushed me so far out of the loop that hearing even the most mundane gossip was interesting.

  “So Jasmine has decided that Adam is not her type,” explained Nicole.

  “Poor Adam. He’ll be so disappointed,” I replied.

  “Imagine her reaction when she finds out that Alex is off the market too.”

  “At least it takes the heat off me.”

  “Has she left you alone lately?”

  “Sort of.” I grimaced. “She’s plotting something. She told me I had no idea what’s coming. Do you know what that means?”

  She frowned. “No clue.”

  We stood to attention when Carol appeared at the back door a few minutes later, eying us suspiciously.

  “I forgot to bring the towels home from the salon last night,” she said, her eyes darting between us. “Perhaps you girls might like to fetch them for me.”

  Her snippy tone didn’t bother me. It beat doing chores and hanging around the house. We were out the door and in my car before she could add any conditions to her request.

  17. White Knight

  The main street of Pipers Cove resembled a ghost town on weekends. Rolling tumbleweed wouldn’t have looked out of place. None of the shops were open except Norm’s hardware store, which traded until three.

  The row of angled parking bays lining the street was empty with the exception of the infamous blue Festiva, crookedly parked right outside the salon.

  “What is she doing here?” asked Nicole bitterly.

  I had no clue why the Beautifuls’ car was parked there but had no doubt we were about to find out. Nicole was never one to hold back. She stormed the building with the gusto of a police raid, pushing open the glass door with her entire body. The candy pink vertical blinds wobbled in every direction as the gush of outside air caught them.

  The Beautifuls seemed to wobble a bit too. Lisa – who had been lounging along the pink velvet couch in the waiting area – sat bolt upright, knocking the cotton wool balls that were stuffed between her newly pedicured toes flying in every direction. Jasmine was at the basin, rinsing Lily’s hair when we walked in. They were now both covered in water. The only one who didn’t jump out of her skin was Lily. Poor, oblivious Lily. A bomb could have gone off and she would have continued reading her magazine.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” snapped Jasmine, reaching for a towel to dry herself off.

  “I could ask you the same question,” spat Nicole, angrily.

  Jasmine gave up trying to dry the front of her tight fitting red shirt and turned her attention back to her sister. She rubbed Lily’s hair so brutally that her voice shook as she spoke. “What does it look like we’re doing?”

  “It looks like you’re treating your posse to free products.”

  The chief Beautiful chuckled darkly, infuriating Nicole. I watched from the doorway as she marched over to Jasmine and ripped the towel from her grip. Lily squealed loudly and grabbed the back of her head. I wondered if Nicole had managed to tear out her over-bleached hair in the process.

  Nicole spelled it out for them in no uncertain terms by speaking slowly and loudly. “You’re stealing.”

  Jasmine’s shameless snicker proved something we already knew. They were morally bankrupt. “It’s not stealing. It’s market research,” she said, raking through Lily’s hair with a wide-toothed comb.

  Lisa stood up, waddling toward Nicole with the grace of a drunken duck, trying to not disturb the remaining cotton wool between her toes.

  “We come in every few Saturdays when the new stock comes in, to try it out,” she explained. She had the intellect of the world’s dumbest criminal and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself laughing out loud at her stupid admission.

  Jasmine shushed Lisa, directing a poisonous glare square at her but it was too late. Nicole pieced it all together instantly. One of Jasmine’s duties as Carol’s apprentice was ordering new stock. Judging by the way Lily was studying the product catalogue; they were ordering whatever they fancied and intercepting it without Carol ever knowing.

  “You wait until my mother finds out,” warned Nicole, unfortunately sounding juvenile.

  Jasmine didn’t look alarmed. If anything she looked even more demonic than usual as she stepped toward Nicole, waving the plastic comb at her. “Are you planning to dob on us, Nicole? Because that would be a huge mistake.”

  “You’re a thief!”

  Jasmine sauntered back to Lily’s chair. “What would happen if I got in first?” she mused. ”I could call her and tell her everything.”

  I didn’t buy it for a second. Her tone was too cunning for someone entering a plea bargain.

  “You’d tell her what you’ve done?” asked Nicole, understandably sceptical.

  “Oh, Carol,” she mocked, holding the comb to her ear as a makeshift phone. “I came to the salon to tidy up a little and Charli and Nicole are here. I hate to be the one to tell you, but Charli’s been filling her pockets with as much stock as she can carry.”

  “She’d never believe you,” I scoffed, speaking for the first time since we’d walked in.

  Jasmine sucked in a long breath, exhaling loudly as if talking had become arduous. “But what if she did? Your name has been bounced around this salon a million times…and never in a nice way. It’s not going to be much of a stretch to convince her that you’re not only slutty, but a thief too. Everyone already thinks you’re damaged goods, Charli.” She shook her head, tutting. “Everybody talks about it. You’re just an attention seeker…such a disappointment to Alex. Of course Carol will believe you’re a thief.”

  Her speech burned like acid but I refused to appear affected. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Will you, Charli? Really? She’ll press charges. You know she will,” she goaded. “A criminal conviction will spell the end for you. Your travel plans might be cut short. Most countries don’t take kindly to criminals seeking entry visas.”

  “You are such an evil bitch,” said Nicole glumly.

  “It’s true,” said Lily, breaking in. “Our cousin, Sarah, couldn’t get into Canada because she had a drink driving conviction.”

  Nicole groaned and slapped her own forehead. “Sarah couldn’t get into Canada because she spelled Canada wrong on her visa application.”

  Lisa’s giggle was extinguished by another lethal glare from Jasmine.

  “It, doesn’t matter anyway, Nic,” I said, sighing heavily for effect. “Jasmine’s right.”

  “What are you talking about?” she hissed.

  “I can’t risk it. I know what Carol thinks of me.” It took great effort to sound so defeated.

  Lisa guffawed, obviously impressed by the outcome of Jasmine’s attack on me. I glanced at Nicole, silently trying to reassure her that I hadn’t lost my mind.

  The Beautifuls claimed the win, going about their business as if we were no longer in the room. I walked toward the back room on the pretence of collecting the soiled towels. Nicole followed. “Here, take this one too,” demanded Jasmine, throwing a sodden pink towel at me as I passed. I let it fall, refusing to demean myself by picking it up.

  As soon as we were through the narrow doorway,
Nicole grabbed my arm “What’s gotten into you?”

  I nudged her aside and began rummaging through the lotions, potions and powders lining the shelves of the back wall. I had a plan – and the inspiration had come from a most unlikely source.

  Floss Davis was fanatical about living organically and chemical free. I knew Carol had done her hair for years, and thanks to Gabrielle Décarie, I had a fair idea how she managed to make her hair such a bright shade of red without chemically dyeing it. Gabrielle was an experimental artist. She loved trying out new mediums and painted on everything from canvas to ceramic. Her latest project was staining leather with henna. I’d watched her working on it one day, carefully and slowly ensuring none of the dye touched her bare hands. When I asked her how long it would take for henna to wear off skin, she answered by painting a tiny heart on the inside of my wrist, which was still bright orange nearly a week later.

  “I found it,” I said, thrilled that my hunch had paid off. I spun around to show her the container of henna powder. “Find me some hand lotion or something.”

  Nicole looked confused but she did as I asked, handing me a tub of moisturiser. I decanted the gritty brown powder into the white cream, mixing it with a spoon I found next to the sink. With a bit of luck, Jasmine would be stirring her coffee with the same spoon on Monday morning.

  “What is that stuff?” asked Nicole.

  I grinned, already tasting victory. “Tate bait,” I whispered. I put my finger to my lips before casually strolling back into the shop. Nicole followed behind, struggling to carry the bundle of pink towels she’d collected.

  Everything in the salon was pink. It was pink overload. If there had been a cluster of seizure patients in town, they would surely trace the source back to the bright pink fittings in Carol Lawson’s salon.

  “Are you sure your mum won’t find out?” I asked, hoping Nicole would be clued up enough to follow my lead.

  “Err, yeah,” she muttered, unconvincingly.

  “I’ve always wanted to try this,” I said, holding the pot of lotion out in front of me, giving Jasmine ample opportunity to snatch it from me as I walked past – which she did. She didn’t notice me glance at Nicole and give her a wink. She was studying the label.

  “It’s nothing special,” she scoffed.

  “It is if you use it properly. Gabrielle Décarie swears by it.”

  “How would you know that?” asked Lisa.

  “Because I spend a lot of time at her house, whoring around with Adam,” I said dryly. A thrill rushed through me. I could see them mulling it over. “She smothers her hands with it, leaves it on for ages and then washes it off.”

  Even if a sense of decency had kicked in – which it hadn’t – it was too late to let them off the hook. Jasmine had already unscrewed the lid and begun slathering her hands in the grainy gunk.

  “Like this?” she asked, seeking approval.

  “Perfect.”

  Nicole and I left the trio of Beautifuls sitting in a line on the pink velvet couch, identically posed, resting their elbows on their knees to ensure their hands received the optimum treatment. I instructed them to leave it on at least half an hour, but they were greedy. They’d put on twice the suggested amount and leave it on much longer.

  I managed to contain myself long enough to suppress my dance until we were out of sight. Nicole threw her head back in a bray of laughter. “We’re going to hell in a hand basket,” she told me, laughing. “You know they’re going to be gunning for you now, right?”

  I did know; which is why I had mapped out the rest of my afternoon in my head. I figured I had a few hours reprieve – an hour for them to finish their treatment and another few hours while they tried scrubbing the orange dye off their hands. All bets were off after that. They’d come looking for me, and past experience told me that the safest place to be when that happened was wherever Alex was.

  I drove Nicole home before heading to the café. Alex’s Saturday shift should have been more bearable considering Gabrielle had surrendered the first day of her weekend to hang out there with him, but for some reason the atmosphere was tense. I frowned. He couldn’t have found out what I’d done so soon. There was no way the Beautifuls could have been hunting me down that quickly.

  Gabrielle sat at the end of the counter, perched on the wicker stool with her legs crossed in a ladylike, but uncomfortable-looking pose. Alex stood a few feet away, arms folded and body rigid.

  “Am I interrupting something?” I asked, knowing the answer.

  “No,” replied Alex tensely.

  “Yes,” retorted Gabrielle, staring at him.

  Alex glowered at her. I’d seen that look a million times. He was silently ordering her to hush – only it didn’t work. She hesitated for only a second before continuing.

  “There is an art exhibition next weekend that I would like to go to. Alex is refusing to accompany me.”

  “Why?” I asked, making my way over to the counter. It wasn’t like Alex to refuse her anything.

  “Because it’s in Stanley and we’d be gone for the whole weekend.” Gabrielle was speaking to me but glaring at Alex. His demeanour didn’t waver.

  Stanley, a pretty seaside town in the northwest, was about as far away from Pipers Cove as they could go without leaving the state. It was a full day’s drive. Excitement bubbled inside me and I concentrated hard on not letting it show. But it was pointless. To Alex, I was completely transparent.

  “Not going to happen, Charlotte,” he warned.

  “I didn’t say anything!”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “They are not children, Alex,” snapped Gabrielle.

  Everyone recognised the conundrum without anyone mentioning it. There was no way Alex would consent to leaving Adam and me to our own devices for an entire weekend. The only person with half a chance of convincing him otherwise was the French beauty queen staring him down from the other end of the counter.

  “How was your morning with Nicole?” Alex finally asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Interesting.” He looked at me for a long moment before speaking, probably debating whether to ask me to elaborate. Thankfully, he decided against it. “So, why are you here? I thought you would have gone to see Adam.”

  I grinned craftily, making him smirk. “I’m pacing myself. I don’t want to appear too eager.”

  “Let me guess. You’ve already called him and he’s on his way to pick you up.”

  “Exactly,” I confirmed, levering myself on to a stool beside Gabrielle.

  It was a relief when Adam showed up. When Gabrielle was upset with my brother, she had no qualms about letting him know. She was unyielding, refusing to let go of her lovely but impossible plan for a weekend up north. Alex refused to budge. Her reasoning soon deteriorated to bursts of French, complete with hand gestures. I couldn’t blame her. His bags would have already been packed if not for the fact that he had an irresponsible minor in his charge.

  Gabrielle dropped the attitude as soon as Adam walked in, but Alex’s ire remained. After all, Adam was fifty percent of the reason why they were at loggerheads. I leapt off the stool, throwing myself at him with the enthusiasm of someone with separation anxiety. Gabrielle said hello before spouting something in French. Adam nodded but said nothing, taking my hand.

  “English, Gabi,” scolded Alex, visibly unimpressed.

  She didn’t get a chance to interpret. The bell on the glass door jingled violently and Jasmine Tate burst into the café, looking as deranged and furious as I could have hoped. I quickly moved behind the counter, standing beside Alex as if that made me bulletproof.

  No matter how trashy Jasmine looked, she was usually seamlessly pieced together. Now she was almost unrecognisable in the holey grey windcheater and mismatched brown track pants she wore. Her brassy blonde hair was dishevelled and pulled in a messy ponytail.

  “What have you done to me?” she screeched, holding gloved hands in the air.

  I coward
ly said nothing.

  “Charli, what’s going on?” Alex didn’t take his eyes off Jasmine.

  The chief Beautiful dragged the gloves off her hands to show him. I heard Gabrielle gasp. Her bright orange hands glowed. It was a better result than I could have hoped for; I wished Nicole was there to see it.

  “We’ve tried everything to get it off. Give me the antidote.” Her tone, still angry, had taken on a desperate edge.

  “We didn’t poison you, stupid. There is no antidote. You’ll have to wait for it to wear off.”

  “How long?” she demanded.

  I shrugged. “A couple of months at most.”

  Her face grew almost as flushed as her hands. The seriousness of her predicament was starting to sink in.

  “Bitch!” she screamed, lunging across the counter. She managed to catch the sleeve of my shirt and began pulling me forward. Alex grabbed me around the waist, lifting me off the floor as he reclaimed me. Adam did the same thing to Jasmine, but had to struggle a lot harder against her flailing ginger hands. Gabrielle sat perfectly still, wide-eyed.

  “Enough!” roared Alex, motioning with his hand for her to stay back.

  “Look what she’s done to me!” shrieked Jasmine. Her lurch forward was thwarted by Adam’s grip around her middle. She managed to shrug free. “You think she’s so precious. She’s not you know,” she screamed.

  “All Charli has to do to aggravate you is exist,” returned Alex. “Everyone has a limit, Jasmine.”

  Alex didn’t even know what I’d done to her. It was astonishing that he always defended me without question – especially when I least deserved it.

  “She dyed my hands orange,” she bellowed, waving her hands under his nose.

  “I see that.”

  “Yeah, well….” Her voice trailed off. “There’s plenty you don’t see. Her reputation around town is as damaged as she is.” She spun around, pointing at Adam. “You could do so much better than her, you know that, right?”

  Adam didn’t seem too worried. He actually looked like he felt sorry for her. I felt no pity whatsoever. I felt furious.

  “Why are you doing this? You need to shut your mouth!” I yelled. “If you so much as say another bad word about me, Carol Lawson is going to know that you’ve been stealing from her,” I threatened.

  “You won’t tell her,” she said, calling my bluff.

  “Are you prepared to take that chance?” I asked, hoping I sounded just as vile as her.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re despicable.”

  Gabrielle let out a sharp laugh. “That is the pot calling the pan black.”

  There was a long silence before Alex finally corrected her. “Kettle, Gabs.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Kettle. The pot calls the kettle black.”

  “Why would the kettle be black?” wondered Gabrielle.

  “I’ll explain it later, sweetheart,” he said gently.

  Never before had I seen her grasp on the English language slip. But her blunder was nothing compared to Alex’s. He was either so distracted or so caught off guard that he had called Gabrielle sweetheart – right in front of the mouth of the south.

  Jasmine let out a strange gurgling sound and stared at Gabrielle. Gabrielle was still frowning, fidgeting with the gold charm bracelet she was wearing, apparently trying to understand the black kettle situation. Jasmine returned her attention to Alex, and the look she gave him wasn’t kind. “You and her?” she asked in disbelief.

  Alex smiled sweetly. “I’m not telling you anything. That’s how rumours start.” The biggest secret in the Cove was out, and judging by the Machiavellian look on his face, he didn’t care one bit.

  “Ugh!” she growled, throwing her carroty hands in the air in defeat. “You all deserve each other!”

  Her eyes flitted between the three of us. None of us spoke. She tugged on her gloves and stamped out.

  Alex’s smile disappeared along with her, and an eerie silence set in. It was as if we’d all witnessed a terrible train crash and were too shocked to speak. I could feel his glare but kept my eyes on the front door.

  “You have ten seconds to explain,” he informed me.

  I punched out the explanation so quickly, I had five seconds to spare. I could almost see his mind ticking over as he processed my confession.

  “Of all the stupid things to do.” His reproach was warranted, and defending myself would only have added fuel to an already raging fire. “You’re like a mini terrorist. Are you trying to get us run out of town?”

  Gabrielle tried to stop a giggle escaping. I turned my attention to Adam.

  “I think it was ingenious,” he murmured, revealing the dimple on his cheek.

  “You are too easily charmed,” complained Alex, waving his hands as if he was showcasing the major prize in a game show. “Charli Blake is the kind of girl your mother warned you about, Adam. Nothing but trouble.”

  So much for defending me to the death! If he hadn’t been so worked up it would have been funny. The only people in the room game enough to see the humour were those of French lineage.

  “I would be more than happy to claim her,” Adam told him.

  “Me too,” added Gabrielle, much to my surprise.

  Alex shook his head. He marched to the front door and flipped the sign, declaring the shop shut for the rest of the day.

  “Are you closing?” asked Gabrielle, checking her watch. “It’s early.”

  “I’m done. If I don’t get out of here, I might explode,” he muttered, pushing past me to collect his coat.

  I knew Alex was close to breaking point. Escaping the café before he had a chance to lock the door seemed like a good idea. I reached for Adam’s hand. “I’ll see you later.” I moved quickly, giving Alex no chance of calling me back. Adam turned to face him as we reached the door.

  “I’ll have her home early.”

  “I honestly don’t care,” Alex said wearily.

  He sounded broken. For a horrible second I wondered if I’d finally pushed him too far. Perhaps in the process of slaying the Beautiful dragons I’d accidently assassinated my white knight too. I peeked at my brother. “Do you mean that?” My voice was small because I feared his answer.

  Alex looked back at me for a long time. He didn’t look angry any more, just beaten. “No,” he said simply. And I believed him.

  Adam and I sat in his car while I explained the whole sorry saga to him. Even armed with all the details he didn’t seem to think I was as wicked as I clearly was. Alex and Gabrielle came out of the café soon after us, and left in separate cars. Not a good sign. Poor Alex had been pulled in too many directions that day, and knowing him, he was heading home to stew.

  Alex was a big fan of brooding. I arrived home a few hours later to find him in the yard chopping firewood. Giving me the silent treatment while he took his frustration out on the woodheap was common practice. He’d hacked through enough wood in the last year to see us through at least three winters.

  “Are you going to chop it all?” I asked, leaning against a veranda post, not willing to venture any closer while he was wielding an axe.

  The axe smashed down on a block of wood. “I might.”

  “Alex, I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” I couldn’t dispute it. I wasn’t feeling a skerrick of regret for dyeing the Beautifuls, but disappointing him was never part of the plan. “Do you ever think, Charli? Before you do stupid things does any part of your brain stop to consider the consequences?”

  “Not often,” I admitted.

  He leaned on the axe handle as he wiped sweat with his forearm. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

  “I think you should take Gabrielle to the art exhibition in Stanley,” I said, ignoring his question.

  He punched out a hard laugh. “I’m sure you do. Leaving a criminal mastermind and her awestruck boyfriend alone for a weekend sounds like a great idea.”

  “You can’t baby me forever,” I g
rumbled.

  He smashed the axe down on another defenceless block of wood, so hard that splinters hit the garage. Staying on the veranda was a wise decision. “If you’re so big and brave, how come you came running to me when you knew Jasmine was on the warpath?”

  “I’m not brave, Alex. I’m scared of everything, but lately I’ve become hopeful of changing that.”

  “It’s fleeting, Charli. Adam is leaving in a few weeks. Then what?”

  It bothered me that he’d mentioned Adam. He had nothing to do with anything that had happened that day. And now the speech I’d prepared during the drive home didn’t seem applicable any more. He’d gone off on a completely different tangent.

  “It won’t be the end. I’m sure of it.”

  Alex let out an appalled groan, swinging the axe over his head as if it was weightless. The ear-splitting crack of the wood made me flinch. “You’re absurd. You are so…. seventeen,” he said, puffing with exertion. “If you’re thinking of running off to New York, you’re making a huge mistake. You’d be giving up everything. You’ll get stuck somewhere you don’t want to be and you’ll hate every minute of it.”

  “Like you did?”

  Those three words grabbed him. Even from a distance, his hazel eyes looked as hard as glass. “Don’t you start,” he warned.

  “You know it’s true,” I insisted. “I don’t even know what your dreams were but I know you gave them up to look after me. You give everything to me. You can stop doing that now.”

  He dropped the axe on the grass and leaned down to pick up the chopped wood. “You do stupid things, make dumb decisions. I wonder if I gave you enough. Maybe there’s some major life lesson I forgot to clue you in about.”

  Abandoning the safety of the veranda, I stepped on to the lawn.

  “Alex, the things I do are no reflection of the job you’ve done. Sometimes I’m just a jerk. Don’t take it so personally.”

  He pointed to the pile of wood with his free hand. It was a mute ultimatum that I understood perfectly. I picked up the smallest pieces I could find. Unimpressed with my effort, he offloaded a much larger log into my arms.

  He smirked. “Sometimes I’m a jerk too.”

  “This is too heavy,” I complained.

  “Suck it up, princess.” He was already walking towards the garage carrying more wood than I could have shifted in a week.

  I’d pushed the envelope too far that day to consider claiming pity points. Pretending to drop the bundle on my foot and faking a mortal injury wouldn’t wash. I followed him to the neatly stacked woodpile.

  “Don’t throw it all away for a boy, Charli,” he said as soon as I was close enough to hear.

  It was a confusing exchange. He flitted from chastising me about the dumb decisions I made to my relationship with Adam. Why did he think the two were linked?

  I dropped the wood on the ground. Alex began stacking it against the wall. It felt like I had only half of his attention and I found myself raising my voice to compensate.

  “I would never regret it, no matter how short-lived it might be. I’d rather have five minutes of something amazing than a lifetime of nothing special. Staying here, playing it safe and never dealing with anything more challenging than Jasmine Tate would kill me.”

  Alex walked past, ignoring the fact that I was yelling at him. I groaned in protest, dragging my feet across the damp grass as if I was physically damaged. He waited until my arms were laden before speaking.

  “I’m not blind, Charli. I knew before you even did that there wasn’t enough in this town for you. A few months away will be – ”

  The two logs thudding to the ground as I dropped them cut his sentence short. “I’m not coming back here, Alex, ever,” I blurted. “When Nic and I are done travelling, I’m going to New York.” I’d had no intention of revealing that little gem quite so soon, but as usual, my mouth got the better of me.

  I might as well have drilled him in the side of the head with the blocks of wood he’d just chopped. He looked so devastated that I wished I could suck the words back in. Calming down and explaining my reasons was the only chance I had to make him understand – except I didn’t know how. “I need to be with him.”

  Trite, I thought. He’s never going to buy it.

  “You’re not supposed to need him, Charli. You’re supposed to just want him. Needing him is what I’m afraid of. You’re going to follow him to New York and get stuck there because you need him…and trust me…when need kicks in, you’re not going to want him any more.”

  “I love him,” I added, hoping it was a more acceptable reason.

  “Well, it sounds like you’ve got it all worked out. You’ve come to this conclusion in just one month? Nice work.”

  “I feel sorry for you!” I yelled. “You’ve become jaded.” Frustration was making my blood boil.

  Alex must have noticed that I was on the brink of a major meltdown. His demeanour changed. “What do you want me to say, Charli?” he asked gently. “What do you want to hear?”

  I stared at him, doubtful that I was capable of giving an answer any less banal than the last few. “I just want you to have faith in me. I’m never going to have it any more together than right now.”

  “I promise you, in time you will.”

  “I’m always going to see things differently. I’m going to continue to chance things to fate. I’m always going to believe in magic and I’m always going to trust that things will work out in the end.” I pointed a log at him. “Those are the lessons you taught me. That’s who I am.”

  His hands flew up, but at least he reacted. It was the only proof I had that he was actually listening to me. “You forgot to mention that you also have a defective sense of judgement and zero common sense,” he said, leaning to pick up more wood.

  “I’m working on it,” I said sourly. “Please, just consider the bigger picture for a minute. What if I’m so unbelievably lucky that I’ve found the one I want to be with forever?”

  “And what are the odds of that, Charli?” he asked as he walked back to the garage.

  “I’ll take my chances. I’m not wrong about this,” I insisted, following empty-handed.

  “And if you are?”

  “I won’t regret a single minute of it. I can promise you that much. That has to be enough for you.”

  “Look, Adam has been a good distraction for you. I see that. But you have to see it for what it is. This isn’t his real life, Charli, and I doubt you’re going to fit into his world. What do you know about his family?”

  “It couldn’t be any weirder than ours,” I replied morosely.

  A smile ghosted across his face and he turned away, dumping the wood with more might than necessary. “I don’t think you know anything,” he muttered.

  “I know all I need to.” My tone lacked certainty for good reason. It was a big fat lie. I’d pieced enough together to know that Adam’s life was nothing like mine but I’d never asked him about it. Perhaps I was afraid to.

  Stubborn, idiotic and stupid were all words I mumbled under my breath as I stormed across the yard to the house. Behind me I heard the whack of the axe slamming down on wood again.

  It took almost an hour for Alex to give up torturing himself and the woodheap. I said nothing as he moseyed to the fridge and sculled juice from the carton. I sat at the table, sifting through a stack of pictures that I’d been meaning to sort until my new brilliant life got in the way.

  Alex pulled out a chair and sat opposite me. I hoped he would speak. Dishing out the silent treatment had never been my forte and I wasn’t sure I could keep it up.

  “Charli, I want to ask you something,” he said seriously.

  “I’m not sleeping with him.”

  It was a knee-jerk response that made Alex duck his head as if I’d just thrown something at him.

  “I wasn’t going to ask that.”

  “Oh. Good.” I wondered if my cheeks looked as flushed as his. I tried my best to look casual while
ignoring the growing pit in my stomach.

  “I just want to know how you can be so certain about all of this. Tell me why Adam is so important.”

  The mere fact that he was willing to continue this conversation was a huge step forward. He was throwing me a lifeline, giving me a chance to explain my shady reasoning. I swallowed hard, praying I could articulate a half-decent response.

  “He sees the good in me, Alex. And for a long time I didn’t think there was any. You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be making plans with a boy like that.”

  He nodded. I couldn’t place the emotion in his eyes but I was hopeful that he’d go easy on me for being so cliché and seventeen.

  “You’ll be a long way from home if it ends badly,” he said, finally.

  “But not so far from Marseille. That’s where you’ll be, right?”

  He avoided my question. “Do you remember the arguments we used to have when you were little?”

  Of course I remembered. I started most of them. They were usually trivial, like me wanting to wear pyjamas to school or eat cereal for dinner.

  “You used to climb that big tree in the front yard and I’d have to spend an hour coaxing you down,” he said, smiling at the memory. “The conversation was always the same. I’d tell you to jump and you’d ask me if I’d catch you. Do you remember what I used to tell you?”

  “Word for word.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Every single time you jump, Charli, I will catch you,” I recited. His eyes drifted down again, pretending to look at the pile of photos, but he was smiling.

  “I meant it. I’m always going to be there to catch you.”

  “I know that.”

  “Even if I’m in France.”

  The effort it took to appear calm was colossal. “So you’re going?”

  “I love her. I have to go, right?”

  “You absolutely do,” I said. It was impossible to hide my delight. “You know why you’ve never spent much time jumping out of trees, Alex?”

  “Tell me, oh-wise-one,” he urged, leaning back in his chair.

  “It’s because no one’s ever been at the bottom to catch you.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s better to just stay in the tree.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the view is much clearer. Some of us need a clear view.”

  If my life had been a book, Alex had read from the very beginning – including the preface. True to form, I had only flicked through the pages, paying very little attention to the plot.

  If his life had been a book, I was the unnecessary postscript at the end – the annoying add-on that should never have been included. I never understood why my mother chose to have me so many years after Alex. Maybe I wasn’t planned – that would explain my father’s quick departure after I was born. He obviously suffered with flee-itis too. If things had worked out the way they were supposed to, my brother and I would probably be strangers. He would have grown and left town, my mother would have raised me, and our paths might have crossed once a year at Christmas. That should have been the plot of the Alex Blake novel. There wasn’t supposed to be an irritating postscript. I said nothing as he walked away. For once, he deserved to get the last word.

  18. The Parisienne

  Pipers Cove quickly descended to crazy town. News of Gabrielle and Alex’s not-so-secret love affair spread like wildfire, and our little café did more trade in the next three days than it had done in a month.

  Alex never coped well with crazy. I steered clear of the café – and so did he, closing early each day to go surfing.

  Mademoiselle Décarie’s life seemed even more difficult, but she took it in her elegant stride. The Beautifuls and their associates filled in the many blanks with details of their own. Lily and Lisa didn’t miss a day of school, overcoming the problem of iridescent hands by wearing gloves – teamed with matching newsboy hats as if Winter Barbie was the look they’d been aiming for. Jasmine hadn’t surfaced since the incident in the shop, calling in sick with a terrible case of the flu. Nicole saw no need to enlighten Carol. Collateral, she called it.

  The only good part about Gabi and Alex becoming the victims of the ruthless local gossips was that Adam and I were left in peace. It was like a get-out-of-jail-free card. It no longer felt like all eyes were on us. Mercifully, we’d become yesterday’s news.

  It didn’t stop us hiding, though. The boat was nearing completion and most of our afternoons were spent in the shed. I didn’t mind watching him work but had long since given up offering to help. Adam humoured me for a while, giving me menial jobs like sanding already raw wood, but it never lasted long. There was something lacking in my technique. He’d watch me for a few minutes with a look so pained, anyone would have thought I was sanding the flesh off his bones. It always ended the same. I’d stop what I was doing just to put him out of his misery. Instead, I busied myself doing what I did best, taking pictures. I photographed Adam a million times, never once finding a flaw.

  “You’re going to wear that thing out,” he teased.

  I snapped a quick picture, trapping the brilliant smile he flashed me. “A small price to pay,” I replied, looking at him through the viewfinder.

  “For what, Coccinelle?” he asked.

  I grinned up at him, high above me on the deck of the boat.

  “A moment in time that I’m never going to get back.”

  He ruffled his fingers through his hair, creating a cloud of sawdust.

  “That sounds so sad,” he said finally.

  “It’s not sad,” I insisted. “It doesn’t matter that I’m never going to get it back. I was there at the time.”

  The distance between us dulled none of the shine in his sapphire eyes. “I love hanging out in La La Land,” he declared.

  Behaving at home was the least I could do. I made sure I was home on time every night and did my best not to rattle Alex’s cage too often, which was difficult considering he was teetering on the edge of a meltdown.

  I was in the kitchen, trying to scrape something half decent for dinner together when I heard his keys hitting the hallstand just before he rounded the doorway.

  “What are you up to?” he asked accusingly.

  “Nothing. I’m just trying to sort something out for dinner,” I said, staring vacantly into the fridge.

  “Charli, no more,” he said wearily. No more what? I’d been an angel all week. “I can’t work out if you’re up to something or if you’re just being good. Up to something I can deal with. Being good…well that’s just creepy.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” I shut the fridge door much harder than necessary.

  Alex sat, looking a lot like someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Madame Décarie reported that you passed your French assignment. That troubles me.”

  “Would it help my case if I told you Adam did it for me?” Hopefully, I wouldn’t regret telling the truth.

  “Yes,” he said wearily. “Yes, it would.”

  “See.” I tapped my forehead. “Always thinking.”

  “Gabrielle thinks your French has improved because you’re spending so much time with him.”

  I smiled. We both knew that wasn’t true.

  Dinner conversation was trivial, and that was okay. We made a start on doing the dishes when he floored me with a most unexpected offer.

  “I’m going to give you a chance to misbehave,” he said, reaching for a tea towel.

  I grinned craftily. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

  “I think we’re going to head up to Stanley for the weekend, if Gabi still wants to go.”

  I turned the tap off, shaking suds off my hands while I gathered my thoughts and worked out how to play it cool.

  “Really?” My voice seemed to be an octave higher.

  “Really,” he confirmed, wiping plates with vigour. “But I haven’t asked Gabrielle yet. She might have changed her mind.”

  That was never going to ha
ppen. After the week they were having, escaping the Cove for a few days would be a godsend.

  I grabbed the phone and thrust it at him. “Call. Now.”

  Alex took the phone and retreated into the lounge. I didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop. There was no more room in my brain for any more information. He returned a while later, expertly timing the end of his phone call to coincide with the last of the dishes being put away.

  “Well?”

  “Done deal. We’re going to leave Friday afternoon. If Nicole’s happy to work Saturday and Sunday, I’m free until Monday.”

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Everything was falling into place. “Great,” I enthused, concentrating hard on not sounding too happy.

  “It is great. So, there’s only one thing left to do,” he said, handing me the phone. I took it from him as if it was scorching hot. “You need to call Carol and make sure it’s okay if you stay with Nicole this weekend.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  Slowly, he repeated his sentence.

  I nodded in defeat, edging towards the door with the phone in my hand.

  “Call her, Charli.” Alex’s instructions were clear and precise, just the way he planned.

  “I will,” I promised, walking away.

  Alex left the house early the next morning, determined to get an hour in the water before opening the café. As soon as he was gone, I left too.

  Sleep hadn’t come easy the night before, but not because I was plotting a way of taking Alex up on his offer of misbehaving. I laid awake trying to figure out a way of doing the right thing. I came up with only one solution, and it all hinged on the Parisienne.

  Walking up to Gabrielle’s door felt exactly the same as walking into detention – I didn’t want to be there but I didn’t have a choice. She came to the door before I had a chance to knock, startling me enough to make me jump back a step.

  “Charli.” Her eyes widened, possibly in shock. “Adam is not home. I think he went for a run along the beach.” She pushed the screen door open and gestured me inside. “I was just making some tea.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling out of place without Adam there.

  We sat at the small oval table and Gabrielle poured tea from a mint green teapot into two matching cups. Of course they matched – everything in the entire house matched.

  “I’m glad we have a bit of time alone actually. I wanted to show you something,” she said, sliding a cup towards me. Her eyes darted in every direction but mine, making me think that something horrible was on its way. She rummaged through her tote bag, pulling out a collection of notebooks. She hesitated slightly before sliding the book across the table towards me.

  I opened the black canvas-covered book. The handmade pages were a dirty white with red flecks of cotton melded through. Thumbing through, I saw page after page of my postcards. The tailored presentation was impressive, but the details that took my breath away were the handwritten notes and sketches that decorated every spare space on the pages. The cursive handwriting was so perfect it looked like a computer font.

  “Is this a diary?” I asked quietly.

  She smiled. “Of sorts.”

  I closed the cover and slid it back towards her. “I shouldn’t be reading this, it looks private.”

  She pushed it back to me. “Relax, Charli. It’s in French. Unless you’ve suddenly become bilingual, I’m not concerned that you’ll learn any secrets.”

  I opened the book and carefully thumbed through the pages.

  “These are truly beautiful.”

  “So are your photographs. My interest is genuine, Charli. I’ve been working with them for months.”

  “I see that.”

  I couldn’t deny it. Much work had gone into that journal. I had accused her in the past of feigning interest in my photography. It seemed impossible to me that someone with so much talent of her own could find my work beautiful.

  Embarrassed by her praise, I laid the journal back on the table, swapping it for another book that caught my eye. It was brighter, a mix of heavily layered marbled pastel paints. I ran my hand over the roughly textured cover.

  “This is Marseille, my home,” she announced proudly, patting the cover with her hand.

  I turned each page, studying each picture for as long as I could without appearing weird. The third page held a photograph of the most incredible house I’d ever seen – if it could be called a house. It was more like a castle straight out of a fairy-tale.

  “Who lives there?”

  “It’s our family home. I grew up there.”

  My jaw fell open in shock. Gabrielle was a secret Snow White after all. Her cousin was keeping a few secrets of his own, and if I was being truthful, I’d say I suspected that too.

  “What has Adam told you about our family Charli?” she asked, twisting her head to look at the page I was staring at.

  “Not very much,” I admitted. In fact he’d told me nothing, and it was getting harder to ignore.

  “I’m not surprised. He is very modest,” she said, smiling the same smile that Adam used to stun me.

  “Will you tell me?”

  Gabrielle hesitated. “The Décarie family is centuries old, Charli, practically aristocratic,” she explained.

  “Like royalty?”

  “Not quite, just very wealthy. I think it’s referred to as old money.”

  I sat silently for a long time, trying to process what she was telling me. “Does Adam live in a castle?”

  If it was a stupid question, she didn’t let on. “No. His family lives in New York.”

  I tapped the picture of the castle with my fingertip. “Are you excited about going home?” I asked.

  “I have Alex now.” She smiled like he truly was the best thing in the world. “But I miss my family terribly.”

  “Alex will go with you.” I said it with too much certainty. It wasn’t a statement I was qualified to make.

  Gabrielle looked down at the cup of tea she was cradling. “Time will tell.”

  “He told me so. When I leave town, he’s going to go to Marseille with you.”

  She frowned as if she’d lost the ability to comprehend English. “He hasn’t told me,” she uttered quietly.

  I leaned back in my chair, dragging in a breath like I was drowning. I did feel like I was drowning – artificially calm on the surface and frantically treading water underneath.

  “I think he’s saving it for the weekend. He wants to tell you when the time is right.” I spoke slowly, which was a mistake. I ended up sounding like I was lying.

  “You’re not coming back here, are you?” she asked. “You’re going to New York.”

  “I need to be with him. I know you understand that,” I said, sounding much stronger.

  She looked at me for a long moment but didn’t speak. Her reaction, or lack thereof, confused me. We were both getting what we wanted. I thought she’d be jumping for joy, breaking out the French champagne or doing whatever it was that arty French beauty queens did when they celebrated.

  “I see,” she mumbled finally.

  “Alex’s decision has nothing to do with me. He loves you, that’s why he’s going to Marseille,” I said.

  “And how do you feel about it?”

  It wasn’t a question I expected her to ask and I had to think about my answer. “I want Alex to be happy. You make him happy.”

  Finally she smiled, just enough to be slightly reassuring. “Isn’t love a dreadful thing?”

  I nodded, feeling the anguish twisting on my face.

  “What is it, Charli? I can tell there’s more to this.”

  I shifted nervously in my seat before edging into the real reason I was there. “Alex has cut me a huge amount of slack by leaving me at home this weekend and I don’t want to ruin it by lying to him.”

  “Okay.” She drew out the word.

  “I want to stay here. And I want you to help me tell him.”

  “Oh, Charli.” That was the on
ly part of her sentence I understood. A long French monologue followed, complete with hand gestures and over-the-top facial expressions.

  “Yes or no?” I asked as soon as she paused. I saw a flicker of pity in her green eyes. Maybe she knew how Alex would react. Perhaps they’d already discussed it. “I’m not asking you to tell him, Gabrielle. I’m just asking you to be there when I tell him,” I clarified.

  It seemed an eternity before she spoke.

  “Okay. Dinner tonight. Here. We’ll tell him over dinner. I’ll cook.” She spoke absently, as if she was trying to string a plan together in her head.

  “Thank you,” I breathed. I made my way around the table towards the door.

  “One more thing, Charli,” she said, reaching for my hand as I passed her. “You need to talk to Adam.” She tapped her Marseille diary. “He’s only perfect for you if you know everything about him.”

  I knew exactly what she meant. “Do you think Alex is perfect?”

  “Except when he calls me Gabs.” She pulled a face. “What a ridiculous appellation to bestow on someone you claim to love.”

  I burst into a fit of giggles. Sometimes I felt as if I needed a French and English dictionary on hand to understand what she was saying.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I told her, still laughing as I made my way to the door.

  19. Confusion

  My school day dragged, and its slowness was compounded by the fact that I was stuck in detention until five.

  For once, Mademoiselle Décarie had nothing to do with it. Mrs Young had sentenced me for the crime of failing to return two library books by the due date. Until then, I wasn’t even aware that she had that kind of power. I got no sympathy from Alex when I called to tell him. Adam was slightly more understanding, although disappointed that I’d managed to cut into another of our afternoons together.

  By the time I arrived at Gabrielle’s, Alex was already there. His red Ute stole three quarters of the narrow driveway. My heart thumped mercilessly as I made my way up to the porch.

  “They’re in the shed, working on the boat,” Gabrielle told me, obviously not concerned.

  The thought of them spending time alone together was disturbing. Adam didn’t always understand the complications between Alex and me. He thought for us to spend the weekend together while Alex and Gabrielle were away was logical, unable to grasp that Alex saw it as leaving a child in a brushwood house with a can of petrol and a box of matches. If Adam mentioned it before I did, anything was possible – and every scenario I played out in my head as I walked the short distance to the shed ended badly.

  Spying on them felt criminal but I was powerless to stop myself. I stood motionless, peeping through the crack in the door. Alex stood near the stern with his arms folded. I couldn’t see Adam, but heard the very sound of sandpaper scraping along wood. Mercifully, the conversation was light. They were talking about the boat, debating the million dollar question – was it Huon or run of the mill pine? Adam had no clue. Alex was undecided.

  “Norm will be able to tell you,” said Alex. “Are you sure you want to sell it?”

  “I have no use for it,” replied Adam casually. “Besides, Charli could use the extra travel money.”

  “That’s very generous of you.” Alex’s tone was strange. “But I guess thousands of dollars is just a drop in the ocean for you, right?”

  The sandpaper sound stopped.

  “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “It wouldn’t bother me if Charli knew about it,” Alex replied.

  “You know as well as I do, it wouldn’t make any difference to her.”

  “How do expect her to adjust to your life in New York, Adam? She’s pinning everything on this working out. That does bother me.”

  Adam laughed but it was somehow wrong. It was sarcastic and hard.

  My thoughts drifted to the French castle that Gabrielle called home. Alex had some adjusting to do too. I wondered if that bothered him.

  “Do you even see her when you look at her?” asked Alex. His arms were still folded across his chest.

  “I see everything.” Adam spoke without hesitation. His answer couldn’t have sounded any truer if he’d had time to rehearse it. “She’s stronger than you think she is.”

  Alex finally uncrossed his arms, moving both hands to the back of his head like he was warding off a migraine. “Everything is fine then. I’m worrying unnecessarily,” he said.

  “You don’t like me very much do you?” asked Adam.

  His question floored me. Considering it took Alex a long time to speak made me think it staggered him too. I’d never heard either of them say a bad word about the other. How had I not seen the tension before now? Part of me didn’t want to hear the answer. A bigger part of me was too cowardly to move. So I stood, waiting for his reply.

  “I don’t like the effect you have on her.”

  The sound of tools crashing into the metal toolbox made me flinch. When angry, Alex liked to chop wood. Adam liked to make noise.

  “Why do you have such a strong hold on her?” Adam asked. “I don’t understand it. You need to let her go. She’s more than capable of making her own decisions.” He spoke calmly but the frustration in his voice was undeniable.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s capable of getting in to a lot of trouble too,” replied Alex.

  Through the tiny gap in the shed door, Adam walked into view carrying the box of tools, dumping it on a shelf. “So you’ve made it your life’s work to keep her on the straight and narrow? How’s that working out for you, Alex?” he asked, glancing back at my brother.

  “Pretty well, until you showed up.”

  “I don’t buy that for a second. Charli has never toed the line. That’s why you’re having such a hard time letting go of her. She was impossible to hold in the first place.” His words were abnormally harsh. Adam was usually much more low-key when it came to telling people off.

  Alex’s response confused me. I expected an angry comeback. I held my breath, waiting for the ranting to begin but it didn’t happen. Instead, he relaxed. “Charlotte has a high tolerance for risk, she’s a slave to the sea and she takes pictures of time,” he said, ticking off my list of weird character traits on his fingers, making them sound more bizarre by the tone of voice he used.

  I was glad that I couldn’t see Adam’s face. I imagine he looked horror-struck. There was no way Adam could ignore the list when it was being spelled out for him. I could see Alex’s face clearly, though. His smugly calm expression hinted that he thought Adam was about to come to his senses and make a run for it.

  At last Adam spoke. “Those are the things I see when I look at her,” he stated. “They’re not faults or flaws. That’s who she is and I love that about her.”

  “That’s what you see?” Alex sounded incredulous.

  “That’s exactly what I’ve seen from the minute I met her.”

  There was an extremely long pause.

  My heart wasn’t sinking any more. In fact, there was a fair chance it was going to float right out of my chest. Adam walked out of view again and I leaned closer to the gap.

  “You weren’t expecting to find her, were you?” asked Alex quietly.

  “No. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s changed the way I see everything. Have you ever felt that for someone?”

  “Once,” he vaguely admitted.

  “Gabrielle is hoping that you’ll go back to France with her,” said Adam, connecting the dots.

  Alex tried to sound offhanded and unexcited. “That’s my plan.”

  “Maybe you should fill Gabi in, put her out of her misery. Do you love her?” quizzed Adam.

  “Completely.” He finally spoke with the fervour that a statement like that deserved and I was relieved.

  “So why did you keep her a secret for so long?”

  “You’ve been here long enough. You’ve seen how the rumour mill works.”

  “So it comes down to you not wanting
to be talked about?”

  “No, it’s even more selfish than that. I never believed someone like Gabi could ever want me for very long. There was no point going public if was going to be short-lived.”

  “So what changed your mind?”

  Alex’s hands moved behind his head again. “Gabrielle knows everything about me. Every. Last. Thing.”

  “And yet she still loves you?”

  “Yeah. Imagine that. Perhaps you should give Charli the same chance.”

  Adam walked into view again, dragging his arms through his coat sleeves. “I’m going to tell her everything this weekend…while she’s staying here…with me.”

  The thought of Adam finally coming clean about his prince charming status now seemed trivial. I stopped breathing. Waiting for Alex’s reaction (and the lack of oxygen) was killing me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Adam had told him about our plans. He’d seen no point in making a big deal of it in the first place.

  “That’s what this dinner is about, isn’t it?” asked Alex. “She’s planning to break it to me using you and Gabrielle for moral support.”

  “That’s about the gist of it,” replied Adam calmly.

  “Fine. Consider me told.”

  “That’s it?” asked Adam, sounding understandably cautious.

  Alex held both palms out before slapping them against his sides. “What do you want me to say? I’m loosening my grip.”

  “No catch?”

  “None.”

  “Why?”

  “You said it yourself, Adam. You see her. And I believe you when you tell me that. But I have to warn you, if you hurt her…if you so much as disappoint her, I’m going to break both your legs.”

  “Understood,” replied Adam in a tone that suggested he didn’t really believe him.

  Both of them started walking towards the door and unless I moved quickly, I was about to be sprung. I made the dash back to the house.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Gabrielle as I burst through the front door.

  “Nothing,” I replied, shrugging off my coat and hanging it by the door. “Adam told Alex I’m staying here for the weekend.”

  Her voice was melodic and calm but her eyes flickered. She straightened already-straight placemats and tidied perfectly aligned silverware. I wondered if she had some form of obsessive-compulsive disorder that required everything to be perfect – except boyfriends.

  “And he took it well?” she asked.

  He’d taken it brilliantly. He hadn’t killed anyone.

  “He’s okay.”

  “Très bien. We can enjoy dinner then.”

  Neither of us had a chance to say anything else before Adam walked in.

  “Where is Alex?” she asked.

  “Coming. He’s just cleaning up.”

  “And you?”

  He raised both hands, paint-free. “I know the rules,” he told her, like a good child.

  Alex appeared seconds later, unceremoniously dumping his keys and phone on the table, knocking Gabrielle’s place settings askew. She didn’t move, blowing my theory about her obsessive-compulsive disorder. Her obsession was something entirely different, and he was standing beside her, both hands on the top of the dining chair – staring at me like he was waiting for a confession.

  I glanced at Adam and he winked. Gabrielle was focused only on Alex.

  “Sit down,” she instructed.

  Alex did as she asked without breaking the lock on my eyes.

  “Anything you want to tell me?” He spoke to me like I was five years old. He knew full well why we’d summoned him to dinner, but he was going to make me explain it anyway.

  Adam frowned. “Why are you doing this?” he asked. “I’ve just told you everything.”

  Gabrielle offered the bowl of salad to Adam, but he ignored it. “I’d like to hear it from Charli.”

  “Why are you acting like I’m invisible?” I snarled.

  “I’m not,” Alex said.

  Gabrielle cleared her throat. “We need wine,” she announced, already walking away. I wanted to leave too but couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse to do so.

  It was confusing. I thought they’d just cleared the air in the shed. Why was Alex intent on keeping the drama going?

  “You’re bullying her.” Adam was clearly baiting him and as expected, Alex bit.

  “And you’re speaking out of turn.”

  Gabrielle came back and carelessly set a bottle on the table. As she pulled her hand away, the bottle fell, saturating Alex’s shirt. He jumped up, wiping the red stain with a napkin. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure it wasn’t intentional. Gabrielle was hardly the clumsy type.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Quickly, take it off.” Gabrielle unbuttoned his shirt as she spoke. “I’ll soak it.”

  She rushed off to the laundry with the stained shirt, leaving me alone with the two idiots. Alex folded his arms, more out of menace than modesty. Adam mimicked his pose. The only difference between them was the looks on their faces and Alex’s bare chest. Alex still looked annoyed but Adam looked aghast. I squeezed his knee under the table but it did nothing to snap him out of whatever dark thought he was lost in.

  The silent standoff continued until Gabrielle returned.

  “Here.” She draped a shirt over Alex’s shoulder as she walked past him. Of course he had clothes there. He probably had a toothbrush there too. As soon as she sat down Adam asked her something in French, punching out the words urgently.

  Gabrielle frowned. “Non,” she said simply.

  Alex didn’t seem anywhere near as confused as I was. Maybe she’d taught him French. Perhaps I was the only person at the table who had no idea what was going on.

  Adam repeated the question, and before he’d even finished Gabrielle launched into a tirade of her own that ended only when Adam stood and slammed his fist on the table, making crockery, cutlery and glass rattle. He pulled me to my feet.

  “We’re leaving,” he snarled to no one in particular.

  Alex said nothing. Gabrielle began to speak but Alex shushed her.

  I snatched my hand free. “I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me what’s going on,” I demanded.

  “Go with Adam, Charli. Its fine,” Alex suggested weakly.

  I didn’t protest as Adam reached for my hand again and led me out.

  We drove so far into the night that we were halfway to Hobart before he finally pulled over. He’d hardly said a word since we left, and even in the darkness I could tell he was furious. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. I still had no idea what was going on.

  “You do realise Tasmania is an island, right? There’s only so far you can drive.”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel and his head dropped.

  “Promise me something?” he said, ignoring my last statement.

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t change your plans, not for anyone.”

  I knew he meant Alex. “His opinion counts, Adam.”

  It was hard to build a defence when I had no idea where the hostility was coming from.

  Adam glared at me like I’d just cursed him. “Why, Charlotte? Why do you feel so indebted to him? I hate that you carry this guilt,” he ranted.

  It wasn’t like Adam to be so insensitive. He knew our history. It was annoying that I had to justify my feelings again, so I said nothing. He shook his head, muttering to himself.

  “English!”

  He spoke painfully slowly, as if my English comprehension was poorer than my French. “You owe him nothing.”

  “Whatever just happened between you and Gabrielle is nothing to do with me. There’s no need to bring Alex into it either.”

  Adam reached across, stroking the side of my face. Even in the low light, his cerulean eyes looked wounded. Continuing the conversation was senseless. We were going around in circles. My brain seemed to be short-circuiting, overloaded by a whole lot of nothing.

  “I think we should go back,”
I suggested.

  Adam’s hand moved to the keys. “I will take you anywhere you want to go.”

  “Do you mean that?” It was important to look at him as I asked the question.

  His expression didn’t waver. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

  I didn’t object when he turned the car around. There was nowhere else to go, for now.

  Alex was on the porch we arrived back at the cottage. I wondered if he’d been waiting there all along or if he’d come out when he heard the car pull up. Adam quickly kissed me goodnight, heading straight into the house and unnecessarily pushing past my brother on the way.

  “Goodnight, Charli,” said Gabrielle, appearing out of nowhere.

  “Thanks for dinner,” I replied. It was a strange thing to say considering we didn’t get as far as eating.

  The journey home with Alex was weirder than the drive to nowhere with Adam. Every one of my thoughts at that moment was so discordant that I couldn’t string a sentence together in my head let alone out loud. It was Alex who finally spoke.

  “You and I really need to talk.”

  “So, talk.”

  He grimaced. “Not right now.”

  Everything was becoming too serious.

  “What happened in there, Alex?” I asked.

  “We’ll talk when I get back from Stanley,” he promised.

  “Is it bad?”

  “Oh, Charli.” He spoke so sympathetically that I was beginning to regret not taking Adam up on his offer. Perhaps we should have kept driving. “I promise it’s nothing bad.”

  I deliberated for a long moment, still trying to make sense of nothing. I glanced across at Alex who was staring straight ahead at the road. His whole body was rigid and his expression was grim. Pressing him for information wasn’t the solution. I wasn’t sure what was. How do you fix something when you have no idea what the problem is?

  “Fine. We’ll deal with it later then,” I agreed, reluctantly.

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