by P. L. Harris
Jemma’s heart was pounding wildly, the feel of his arms around her making her giddy. “Nah, I wasn’t invited—I’m too reckless. I was thinking I might have a picnic by the river, seems a shame to waste such a perfect day.”
Tucks nodded slowly, his eyes sparkling as they stared into hers. “It does indeed. It’d also be a shame to see you out there on your own. Care for some company?”
“I’d like that.”
As he leaned his face down to hers, Tucks whispered softly, “Welcome home, Jemma Harlow.”
Give Us This Day
Jenny Lynch
“Remind me again why I agreed to this road trip?” An impatient sigh escaped from Georgia as she narrowed her eyes at the driver. “Since we left Darwin over four hours ago, all I’ve seen so far are dead kangaroos, rusted car bodies and giant termite mounds dressed in ridiculous clothes. So, are...”
“Georgia,” interrupted Anna, “I swear to God if you ask me one more time ‘Are we nearly there yet?’, I’ll pull over to the side of the road and leave you there. Besides, you know perfectly well why we’re going. I promised you some memorable, dinky-di Aussie experiences during your year’s sabbatical. So, I’m being an awesome cousin and I’m taking you to one of the most unique places in the Northern Territory. I guarantee this Easter trip will be something you’ll be talking about for years after you return to London.”
“But 600 kilometres just to go to a ball? Seriously, Anna, if I drove that far at home, I could go from Land’s End to Glasgow...and that’s in a completely separate country.”
“Yes, but would you meet over a hundred hot, eligible guys all gathered in the one spot when you got there?” Anna asked, raising her eyebrows.
“No, I guess not. Maybe meeting someone new is just what I need. I haven’t dated anyone since the big breakup with Mitch.” Georgia’s eyes instantly welled up. She turned away before Anna could notice the salty, plump tears escaping from her eyes.
“Want to talk about it? I’m all ears if you do. And we do still have over 200 kilometres to drive and plenty of time to kill,” Anna said.
Georgia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Even after three months, her heart still winced whenever she thought of Mitch. She turned her face back towards Anna and forced a smile.
“No, I’ll be fine thanks. I’m moving on as they say. Anyway, tell me more about this event we’re going to. What did your dad call it? I think he said ‘The Territory’s biggest shindig of the year’.”
“It sure is,” Anna said. “It’s the only remaining B&S Ball left in the Territory. A few hundred bachelors and spinsters flock to Daly Waters for three nights of shenanigans. I’ve only been once before but it was awesome fun. Some of my girlfriends from uni will be there too. They’re the greatest bunch of friends and they’re absolutely hilarious. And it’s the cutest little town — you’ll love it.”
Georgia giggled—her mood lifted by Anna’s enthusiasm. “Nobody has ever called me a spinster before. It sounds so Victorian. Hell, I’m only twenty-two, but I guess back in those days, if you were unmarried at twenty-two, you were considered ‘left on the shelf’. Hey, maybe I’d better sweep my hair up into a chignon for the ball.” She swept her curly blonde locks up into a messy pile on top of her head, pursed her lips and fluttered her eyelids at her cousin.
“Well, you never know Georgia, maybe this time next year, you won’t be a spinster; you’ll be an old married lady. And do you know what the best thing about this ball is? It’s a fundraising event to raise funds for a children’s charity. It’s all for a good cause.”
“Awesome. Ooh, what’s that up ahead? Please, please tell me it’s somewhere that sells coffee,” Georgia said, her mouth salivating at the thought of a cappuccino.
“Yep, it’s the Mataranka Roadhouse—the last stop before Daly Waters,” Anna said. “We’ll make a pit stop and I’ll even shout you a burger.”
“WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD. We’re about three minutes away,” Anna’s cheery voice interrupted Georgia’s reverie.
Rubbing her eyes, Georgia repositioned her seat upright.
“Oh wow—did I fall asleep? Sorry, Anna. Some cousin I am. I should’ve kept you company. Oh my God! Are you serious? ‘WELCOME TO DALY WATERS. Population 9’,” Georgia read the town’s welcome sign out loud, bursting into laughter. “Population nine? You said it was a small town but I honestly wasn’t expecting it to be that small.”
As they drove along the tiny main street, an old lean-to with a rusted red helicopter perched on the roof caught Georgia’s eye first. Next to it was the tiniest petrol station she had ever seen. A sign declaring Daly Waters Pub Outback Servo swung gently above three bright red petrol bowsers. She turned her head to the right and there in all its glory stood the Daly Waters Pub—an old, rundown building with a rusty red corrugated iron roof, covered partly by bright cerise coloured bougainvillea.
Anna did a U-turn and parked directly in front of the pub. “No judgement! You’ll get to love it, Georgia, just you wait and see. By Monday, I bet you won’t want to leave the place. Stay here a sec. I’ve just got to go into the pub and pick up the camping pass.”
Georgia’s gaze followed Anna as she walked in through the front door, above which was a rudimentary sign... REECEPSHUN. A snort of laughter escaped as she shook her head in disbelief.
Bloody hell, they can’t even spell. I guess if there are only nine people who live here, what are the chances one of them is a teacher?
“What the hell are you cackling at?” Anna asked as she got back into the car.
“I can’t believe this place. It’s quaint but also hilarious,” Georgia replied.
“Well cousin, keep up your good spirits because we now have to try and erect a tent.”
“Bring it on!”
“ANNA! ANNA! OVER HERE!”
Entering the noisy, overcrowded beer garden, Anna grabbed Georgia’s arm and dragged her towards a group of six girls who were seated around a table. Jugs, glasses, and empty chip packets littered the tabletop.
“Hey guys, this is my cousin, Georgia, from London. Georgia, meet Alicia, Chelsea, Hannah, Bec, Jamie, and Lou,” Anna said.
“Hi Georgia, I bet you could do with an ice-cold beer after that drive, especially with Anna at the wheel. She’s known to be a bit of a hoon,” one of the girls said, laughing. “Grab a clean glass from over there and help yourself to the jugs.”
“Thanks, but I don’t actually drink beer. I’ll just go to the bar and get myself a drink,” Georgia said, pointing to the bar entrance.
“Wait until you see inside,” Anna said with a grin. “Oh, and make sure you take lots of photos to show everyone back home.”
Georgia turned towards the bar entrance but halted in her tracks. Her insides rippled with laughter. Turning back to Anna and her friends, she pointed to the source of the newly found hilarity.
“Why in hell’s name are there hundreds of pairs of flip-flops hanging up on that pergola?” she asked, with a look of mock horror on her face.
“Good God, Georgia. We’re going to have to teach you some good old Aussie slang this weekend,” one of the other girls said with a laugh. “They’re called thongs here. Or pluggers will do. But definitely not flip-flops.”
“People leave them here as a token...like a calling card,” Anna said. “And if you look over there, there’s a collection of vehicle number plates. It’s a very eclectic, crazy place but it’ll grow on you. Trust me. But the best is inside. Go on, take a look for yourself.”
Georgia jostled her way through the throng of young people. The atmosphere in the beer garden was certainly one of elation. Everyone she squeezed past greeted her with a smile or a g’day, which instantly brought a smile to her face.
Wow, this place is so full of energy already. I just love the vibe. Everyone seems so friendly.
An even louder wall of noise greeted her as she stepped inside the slightly darkened room.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
She
tentatively took a few steps forward and spun around slowly, not believing what she was seeing. She’d never seen anything like it before. Hundreds and hundreds of pieces of memorabilia were attached to every surface and were even hanging from the ceiling. She fished her phone out of her back pocket and started taking photos. Baseball caps, T-shirts, currency notes from all over the world, stickers, drink can holders, business cards...they would all make great photos for her social media posts later.
The bar was packed. Conversations were swirling around and loud voices were competing with heavy rock music that was blasting from a speaker somewhere close by. Spotting a less crowded area at the rear, Georgia edged around the crowd and headed towards the bar.
“What the hell?” Georgia halted. Her gaze was focused on the items hanging above the bar. Bras—all colours, all sizes, all styles.
“I know, right? We’re pretty crazy around here. Feel free to add yours to the collection,” a rich, smoky male voice said.
“How do you know I’m wearing one?” Georgia giggled. She snapped a few more photos before mild panic set in.
Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.
She turned her gaze to trace the voice and found herself staring into the most mesmerising pair of eyes she’d ever seen. Belonging to a good-looking barman, the warm brown eyes appeared to have flecks of silvery light performing ballet in them.
Well, there’s nothing rugged about this one. But tall, dark, and devilishly handsome he most certainly is.
Tiny butterflies tickled her insides and a slight tingle down her spine gave her instant goosebumps.
Settle down, Georgia!
“I’ll be with you in a sec,” he said, his gorgeous smile sending the butterflies wild. “That’s the cocktail list there on the bar if you want to choose something.”
Georgia watched with interest as he poured nips of gin, light rum, vodka, tequila, crème de menthe, and Galliano into a blender already filled with ice cubes. A minute later, he was pouring a green slushy mixture into two cocktail glasses, adding a cherry and wedge of pineapple to each.
“God, that looks potent. It sure looks like a Hawaiian shirt of a drink. Which one is that?” she asked, scanning the cocktail menu.
“You won’t find it listed there,” he replied. “It’s my specialty. It is called the ‘Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster’ and trust me—it’s the best drink in existence. Ever heard of it?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Then I guess you’ve never read ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’. That’s where the name comes from. In the book they refer to it as ‘The cocktail at the end of the universe’,” he said.
“That’s a pretty apt description considering where we are,” Georgia said with a laugh.
“Oh, come on now. We might be in the middle of whoop-whoop, but we’re hardly at the end of the universe.” His smile was infectious, causing Georgia to smile back instantly. A slight glow of warmth travelled from her head to her toes.
“Be back in a sec,” he said. He picked up the two cocktails and walked away.
Georgia’s gaze followed his lean but well-toned body. Slim-fitted jeans covered the cutest male butt she’d seen in a long time. His T-shirt was also fitted and showed off his muscular build. She noticed a slogan printed on the back of the T-shirt—‘Give Us This Day’.
Waiting for his return, Georgia started reading the cocktail menu.
“Who the hell makes up these names? ‘Sand in the Crack’. ‘Between the Sheets’. ‘Sex on the Beach’. Guess I won’t find any of that around here.”
“You never know your luck in a big town like this. There are over a hundred eligible bachelors to choose from, and I’m sure a pretty girl like you will have her pick.” Georgia hadn’t noticed his return and her cheeks warmed, knowing that he’d overheard her talking to herself.
“I was referring to the beach bit. I won’t find any beach around here—that’s what I meant. Not the other bit,” she said.
Please, floor, open up and swallow me!
“Of course you did,” he said, with a wink. “Well now, what can I get you, a cocktail?”
Georgia glanced at his name tag—‘Jack. Bar Manager’.
“Well Jack, I think I’ll just have a nice, cool gin and tonic thanks, with lots of ice and lemon.”
“Coming right up,” he said, ice cubes already jingling in a tall glass. “Seeing as you already know my name, it’s only fair I know yours.”
“I’m Georgia. And I see you’re the bar manager,” she said.
“Yep—Jack the Bar Manager, that’s me alright. But they also call me ‘Jack of All Trades’. In small places like this, it’s all hands on deck when a big event like this crops up. By the sounds of your accent, Georgia, I’m guessing you’re from England?”
“Well, you’d be guessing right, although I’m living in Darwin with my cousin for a year,” Georgia said. “I can honestly say I’m looking forward to tomorrow night’s ball, but not really looking forward to tonight’s fancy dress party. My cousin lent me her Wonder Woman costume. I hate fancy dress events.”
“I bet you’ll look fantastic. Just prepare yourself for some crude remarks though. No doubt a few fellas will call you names like ‘Tin Tits’—that’s a favourite for the Wonder Woman costumes. Don’t take offence. They don’t mean any harm, they’re just having fun. The guys who come here are a real mixture, and they range from being completely uncouth to being refined gents. We get uni students, jackeroos, ringers, and cockies...all sorts. People drive from all over Australia for this event.”
“Jackeroos? Ringers? Cockies?” Georgia’s forehead wrinkled.
“Just think cowboys and farmers then,” Jack laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be an expert on Aussie slang before the weekend is over.”
“I hope so. It’s like another language. By the way, what’s with your T-shirt slogan—‘Give Us This Day’?” she asked.
“Well, the pub was sold to new owners last year and they announced that they were canning the Easter B&S ball. But it’s been a tradition for decades. Social media went berserk, with a huge petition that was signed by thousands, and so the owners had to renege. The petition campaign slogan was ‘Give Us This Day Our Daly Ball’. A bit corny, I know, but that was the inspiration for our T-shirts this year,” Jack said, turning around slowly in a circle so Georgia could see the back of the T-shirt properly.
“Nice,” she whispered softly.
And I don’t just mean the T-shirt!
“Well, I’d better get back outside. Hope to see you later,” Georgia said.
GEORGIA WOKE WITH A start. A throbbing pain in her head reminded her of how much alcohol she’d consumed at the fancy dress party. Remembering that most of it had been consumed while she sat at the bar chatting to Jack, brought a smile to her face. She couldn’t recall paying for any drinks at all.
“Compliments of the bar manager,” he’d said each time. In between serving drinks to other patrons, Jack had returned to keep her company for most of the evening and they’d chatted continuously while he worked. Georgia had enjoyed feeling relaxed in his presence and found that they had a lot in common.
“Don’t you want to head back outside to the fancy dress party?” he’d asked her at some point late in the evening.
“No,” she’d replied with a grin. “They keep calling me Tin Tits out there.”
“I did warn you,” Jack had said, giving her another sexy grin.
“You did indeed.”
Besides, I just want to stay here and wrap myself up in your words.
LEAVING A SLEEPING Anna in the tent, Georgia decided a swim would help her hangover. As she approached the pool area, whoops and hollers became deafening, indicating that many others had the same idea. She found a spot to leave her clothes and dived into the deep end of the pool. She revelled in the coolness of the water and swam a fair distance underwater. Surfacing in the shallow end, she found herself face to face with none other than Jack,
who looked like a hunky, male swimsuit model. His well-toned bare chest complete with a jaw-dropping six-pack made Georgia’s pulse quicken. She wasn’t expecting to see him here and being so up-close and personal while he was half naked sent thrills and chills down her spine.
“Well, hello again,” Jack said, smiling. Georgia couldn’t help but notice his eyes giving her body the once-over.
“Hi there,” she said, summoning the courage to remove her gaze from his glorious body and focus on his eyes. “Got the morning off?”
“I wish,” Jack replied. “I’ve got to lend a hand in the kitchen for a couple of hours first thing this morning. A casual kitchen-hand and a sous chef we hired for today haven’t shown up, so we’re short-staffed. We have around two hundred and sixty covers tonight. That’s a hell of a lot of beef and Barra to prepare!”
“Barra?” Georgia’s brow creased. This Aussie slang was so confusing.
“Sorry, I forgot you’re not a local. Barra is short for barramundi—the most popular and best fish in the Territory. We serve it with scotch fillet steak. It’s a Daly Waters specialty. That’s what tonight’s main course at the gala dinner will be.”
“Sounds delicious—I can’t wait to try it,” she said.
“Jack! Jack!” an urgent voice yelled from the side of the pool. Jack and Georgia both turned their heads towards a short, balding man, dressed in chef’s attire, who was frantically waving.
“Sorry. You’ll have to excuse me,” Jack said. “Looks like another emergency. But have a great day. There are all sorts of fun activities planned—food dye paintball, jelly wrestling, a wet T-shirt competition. Make sure you enter that one.” A cheeky wink was aimed in her direction.
Georgia noticed his eyes dropping momentarily to her bikini top, causing a hot flush to travel the full length of her body. Her gaze followed Jack as he waded across the pool and climbed up the steps.