About Three Authors

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About Three Authors Page 18

by Patti Roberts


  “Where’s your owner, boy?” Polly asked, lifting the basket of eggs out of Monty’s reach. “Not for you.” Monty barked, then turned away, and took off back towards the Ute, resuming his position in a shady spot next to the car. “I think he loves that old car as much as my son does.”

  Becky felt a knot in her throat at the prospects of seeing Gary again. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and wondered how terrible she must look with sweat stains under her armpits and beads of perspiration running down her flushed cheeks. “I might go freshen up,” she said, wiping sweat off her forehead, before it ran into her eyes. She wanted to look nice when she saw Gary again. Becky closed her eyes and moaned inwardly. All of a sudden there he was, walking straight towards them, sporting a heart-pounding smile on his face that reached all the way up to his gorgeous baby-blues. Too late, dammit.

  “Mum. Becky.” He nodded at his mother. “I see Mum’s got you jogging. That didn’t take her long.” He gave Polly a hug, then took the basket of eggs out of her hand.

  Becky shrugged. “Just trying to stay fit. You know how it is.” Her eyes swept across his toned body, her fingers absently curling a stray lock of hair. You most certainly do know how it is, she thought.

  Polly shot Becky a knowing look, then smiled. She knew how to read the signs which pronounced the first stirrings of new love.

  “I just thought I’d swing by and take Becky for a tour of the lake. Make up for being a jerk the other day.”

  Polly led the way up the sloping lawn towards the patio. “Did you, now? Well I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. You could take a picnic lunch with you, and have a swim.”

  “Becky?” Gary asked tilting his head to look at her. “Would you like to go?”

  “You want to take me on a picnic, now, by the lake. And for a swim?”

  “I thought I might. Yes. If that’s okay by you? If you don’t have any plans, that is?”

  “Well I do have some work I still have to do on the article-”

  “Rubbish,” Polly said, waving the idea away. “Take some time off to enjoy yourself. Elise, Mallory and I will be busy for the rest of the day anyway. We have a few loose ends to sort out before the opening. You go have some fun. Both of you. It’s an order.”

  Gary held out his free hand. “That’s it, then. Best we do as we’re told,” he said.

  “I need to change first,” Becky said, looking down at her sweat-drenched clothes.

  “I’ll throw some lunch together for you to take with you.” Polly looked up at Gary. “Go grab some towels and a blanket to sit on from the hall cupboard,” she added, taking the basket of eggs from him. And an eski from the garage.”

  Becky gave Polly a questioning look. “Eski?”

  “I think you call it a cool box?”

  “Oh, yes. A cool box. I understand.”

  They all walked away in different directions. Polly headed towards the kitchen. Becky walked slowly down the hall, and then took the stairs two at a time, until she reached the top, where she broke into a run towards her bedroom. Once he was alone, Gary punched the air, and then headed off toward the garage to find the eski, Monty trotting contently alongside him.

  “I have a date,” Gary said, leaning down to pat Monty on the head, a broad smile lighting up his entire face. Monty barked once, then tore off down towards the lake, where he jumped straight in. He snapped busily at the water, as though he were trying to catch fish.

  Twenty minutes later, Gary was loading up his Ute with towels, a blanket, and an eski containing cool drinks and a packed lunch. He opened both doors and wound down both windows, letting the breeze cool the interior of the vehicle. Folding his arms across his chest, he rested up against the side of the car, waiting for Becky. He amused himself by watching Monty turning around and around in circles in the water, chasing his own tail. “Bloody crazy dog.”

  The phone rang in his pocket, momentarily surprising him. Unfolding his arms, he reached into his pocket, pulled it out and stared blankly at the screen. He hesitantly clicked answer. “Look, I really don’t want to get into this with you again, Wendy. What’s done is done.” He listened for a moment as she rattled on. “No, Wendy. It’s over.” He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Wendy, listen-”

  He looked at the phone. Wendy had hung up on him. He was grateful that she had; it saved him from having to do it himself. Shaking his head, he deposited the phone back into his pocket. “Fuck it.” He paced up and down along the side of the car rubbing the back of his head. How long was this going to go on? The ringing up, the pleading, the screaming, then the hanging up?

  “I’m sorry,” Becky said. Do you want to do this another time? Lunch I mean… If there are other things you need to take care of-”

  Gary stopped pacing and smiled, determined not to let his conversation with Wendy ruin his day. She had already done enough of that, and he’d had enough of it. Enough was enough. No more drama, he told himself. “No. It’s fine. Let’s get going, shall we?” Gary stepped back from the open car door. “Your chariot awaits.”

  Becky was wearing the same denim shorts she had been wearing earlier. She had changed tops and was now wearing a white singlet, with a floral bikini top beneath it. A small backpack was hanging on her back, which she shrugged out of and put on the car seat. She climbed in after it, pleasantly noting that the floor of the vehicle was completely rubbish free, and that the rug on the seat had been washed, and wasn’t scratchy against her legs.

  Gary waited for her to secure her seatbelt, and then closed the door softly behind her. Walking around the back of the Ute, he made sure the eski, towels and blanket were all accounted for and secured. Satisfied, he slid in behind the steering wheel, and closed his door. “Monty,” he called through the window. The dog looked up from the water’s edge, then put his head down and bolted up the sloping lawn towards the car.

  Polly waved from the Patio. “Have a nice time, you two.”

  Monty stopped, looked from Gary to Polly, weighing up his options, then changed direction and ran towards Polly, who was still standing on the patio. “Looks like it’s just the two of you,” Polly called, patting Monty on the head as he sank to the ground beside her feet.

  “Traitor,” Gary called back, turning on the ignition. “You good to go?” he asked, turning to look at Becky.

  She nodded. “Yep. Ready when you are.” She couldn’t help but notice the muscle tone and definition beneath his sleeveless black t-shirt. He definitely liked to keep in shape, although she imagined it was due more to his kind of work and healthy eating regime than hours spent at a gym like some steroid-enhanced-gym-junkie.

  “Good to see you’re wearing your runners,” he said, looking down at her feet.

  “Polly suggested that it’d be a good idea. She said something about a hiking track.”

  “Do you have water?” he asked.

  She leaned down and patted her backpack, and he nodded in understanding. He turned out of the driveway and onto the road.

  “Enough for two,” she said.

  “There’s a circuit track that leads from the dam wall along the top of a ridge. The hike takes a couple of hours, and the beginning of the hike is quite steep, so you’ll be glad you wore runners.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Hours?” Becky asked, not sure if she was up for walking hours in the unyielding heat. It was already as hot as Hades, and it was only past nine in the morning. On the road ahead, she could see a shimmering heat rising up off the asphalt, like a magician’s illusion.

  “Don’t worry, the hike is well worth it, I can assure you. The views are spectacular from up there.”

  Becky’s eyelids narrowed, and she forced a wry smile. “Wonderful. Nothing like a great view to take your mind off dying from heat exhaustion.”

  Gary frowned at the look on her face, which was already shining from perspiration. “I promise I won’t let you die. I’ll carry you back to the car if I have to.


  “Great,” she said nervously.

  “You look worried. Am I driving too fast? Would you like me to slow down?”

  “No. I’m good. The driving is fine.”

  He shot her a doubtful look, and she returned his look with a smile.

  “Honestly, I’m fine. I was just worried about the heat. I’m still trying to get used to it. I don’t want to faint on you.”

  He nodded. “I keep forgetting that you’ve just left a winter to come here.” He looked at her for a moment. “I really like listening to your English accent, by the way.”

  “It’s so strange seeing Christmas decorations up around the place without it being bitterly cold outside. It’s just bizarre. Wrong almost.” She shrugged. “It’s like when I hear a Christmas carol on the radio and they’re singing about a white Christmas, and I look outside and it’s all sunshine and humidity… Well, it’s just weird. It’s like I’m on Mars or something.” She glanced across at him. “I like listening to your Australian accent, by the way.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “So do you hate it here? All this humidity,” Gary asked.

  Becky frowned. “No, I don’t hate it. That’s not what I mean. It’s beautiful here. It’s just like I woke up one day and it was freezing, then I woke up the next day and I’m sweating my arse off.”

  Gary contemplated her answer. “So it’s kind of like waking up after you’ve been in a coma? You feel like you’ve skipped six months of your life?”

  “Exactly. Only it was Christmas when I went to sleep, and it’s still Christmas when I woke up.” She frowned. “Actually, the whole year has been like a coma, and coming here is like waking up.”

  Gary nodded. “I can see how that would be confusing.”

  Becky looked out the window, then her gaze drifted back to Gary. It really was like waking up, she mused, studying his face while he concentrated on the road ahead.

  A short time later, Gary pulled the vehicle up in a dirt car park, and then turned off the engine. “You ready?” He looked at her and smiled.

  “Sure. Let’s go.” Becky slid out of the vehicle, retrieved her backpack off the car floor, and swung it over her shoulders.

  “Oh, wait,” he said, poking his head back into the car and pulling a cap out from beneath his seat. “You’re going to need this.” He sat a cap on her head, then readjusted it. He stood back to appraise her. “Looks good on you.”

  “I’m sure it doesn’t,” she replied, striking a pose which made him laugh.

  They walked back down the road they’d just driven, until they came to a small wooden fence and a sign prohibiting the use of motorbikes on the trail.

  “This is it,” Gary said. “The lake is surrounded by national park, rainforest, pine tree plantations and bushland” He pointed out eucalyptus and acacia, native trees to the area that grew in abundance along the winding path. “Walking paths wind in and out of the mountains surrounding the lake and range. You could spend a good week hiking around the lake and the mountains.”

  “I think a couple of hours should do it. If I miss anything, I’ll buy the postcard,” Becky said, stumbling on a loose rock.

  Gary reached out and grabbed her around the waist. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Just lost my footing. I’m fine now. You were right about the view. It’s quite breath-taking.” They stopped walking for a moment to admire the view out across the dam, the lake, and the tree-lined horizon beyond. Sliding the backpack off her shoulders, Becky unzipped it and took out a water bottle. She took a drink, then offered it to Gary.

  “Thanks,” he replied. “You don’t have germs, do you?” he asked, taking a drink.

  “Yes, actually, I do. Vile, girl germs. Consider yourself infected.”

  Gary chuckled. “I think I can handle that,” he said, taking another long drink from the bottle. He handed the bottle back to her, peering at Becky’s profile while she took another sip and studied the view stretching out before her.

  She lowered the bottle. “Nothing except water and mountains for miles, and apart from us, not another single living person in sight. It has a feel to it of being almost prehistoric, untouched by the tawdriness of civilisation. A person could disappear out there and never be seen again.” A breeze played with loose strands of her hair, and she brushed them away. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, then trickled down the side of her face.

  “We should head back now,” Gary said. “I know a shady spot where we can have lunch, then take a swim to cool down.”

  “All of that sounds good to me. Especially the swim,” Becky said, taking a handkerchief out of the pocket of her shorts to dab her eyes and forehead.

  Gary took a blue and white bandanna out of his pocket, flicked it open, and then folded it into a long strip. “Hold still,” he said, taking the hat off her head, and handing it to her. Reaching around the back of her head, he tied the bandanna firmly in place.

  Becky’s face was closer to his chest than it had ever been, and she found herself taking a good long breath, breathing in every particle of him, filling her lungs with his rugged scent.

  “This will stop the sweat from running into your eyes” he said, tilting his head back to peer down at her. “Not only that, but it makes you look really cool.” He smiled, took the cap out of her hand, and put it back on her head. “There. You’re good to go.”

  “Thank you,” she said, missing the nearness of him the moment he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

  “Here, let me carry that for a while.” He hoisted the straps of her backpack over one of his arms.

  They wound their way back down the track in comfortable silence, content, enjoying the surroundings.

  From time to time Becky would ask him a question about his job or Polly - the bestselling fantasy writer whom he obviously adored; every time he spoke of her, an involuntary smile lighted up his face.

  He smiled again now. “She’s my mother. Famous or not, she’s always been just Mum to me. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother. We didn’t always see eye to eye, of course. She even hosed me in the backyard once because I back-chattered her. Teenagers will be teenagers, after all. But now, well, she’s not just my mother, she’s also someone I respect, someone I look up to and enjoy being around. She really likes you, by the way.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me. I can always tell when my mother likes someone.”

  Becky looked up at him. “I’m glad. I really like her, too. Actually, I really like them all. Did you know that Joan calls them the Golden Girls?”

  “Yeah, I do. It fits, too, I think. Them all sharing a place together, and then supporting each other the way they do. They’re good together, you know. I don’t mean just career wise, but on a personal level, too. They’ve been there for each other over the years. Since their twenties. Thirty years is a long time to know someone.”

  Becky nodded. “I had a friend like that once. We didn’t know each other for thirty years, of course, but I always thought we’d be friends forever. A couple of old biddies sharing stories in our rocking chairs. I guess some friendships work out, and some just don’t. My Mum used to always say that some people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.”

  “Can I ask what happened with you and your friend?”

  “She screwed my boyfriend.”

  “Oh.”

  “In the loo at the pub. I caught them in the act.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “It just keeps getting better.”

  “Yup,” Becky replied. “She’s pregnant.”

  “Jesus. If it’s any consolation - and I know it never is - I know how you feel,” Gary offered, looking straight ahead. “How long was it going on for? You don’t have to answer that, if you don’t want to. And before you go jumping to conclusions, I haven’t got anyone pregnant. Not that I am aware of, anyway.”

  She smiled. “I promise not to jump to any conclusions. And it’s
okay, I don’t mind talking about it. It actually feels good to be able to talk about it.” She leaned down and picked up a twig from the path. “I’m not really sure how long it was going on for. I’m not really sure I want to know. It wouldn’t change anything. What’s done is done.” She looked at him. “What happened to you?”

  He shrugged. “Kind of the same thing.”

  She looked at him doubtfully.

  He shrugged. “She screwed a guy about six weeks ago on a girls’ night out in Cairns.”

  “Anyone you know?” Becky asked.

  “Nope. Just some random Irish backpacker. She had a real thing for the Irish, apparently. They were “fun”.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I went to school with one of the girls that went along. She figured I should know.”

  “Good friend.”

  Gary nodded. “Yep.”

  “Then I guess I’m the winner of this little pity party?” Becky said.

  “Yep. You win.” He reached down and picked her up a stone from the ground. “A good luck charm,” he said, handing her the white, beer bottle cap-sized stone.

  She dropped the twig. “Why, thank you,” she said studying the flat, smooth surface of the stone in her hand. “Thank you,” she said again, peering up at him as she put it in her pocket. “I will treasure it.”

  “I hope you do. It’s one of a kind, like you. And who knows, we might be the only two people on the entire planet to have ever held it.”

  “That is very true. I’ve never thought about things like that before…”

  She thought about the thousands of feet that must have walked the path over the years, and wondered what were the odds that someone else had picked up that exact stone, and then had tossed it back on the ground?

  “I guess it’s one of those random things that you can never ever know the answer too,” she said, her hand touching the stone through the fabric of her shorts.

 

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