Jilted

by Rachael Johns

  He’d been like a teenage girl, preening himself in front of the mirror, agonising over which pair of jeans to wear and which shirt to top it off with. Which was ridiculous. There wasn’t anyone he wanted to impress. In the end, he’d staged a mini-protest and chosen tatty jeans, an old AC/DC shirt and some beat up Blundstones.

  He rocked to Lucy’s music, willing time to zoom by. Surely seeing Ellie – or at least the thought of seeing Ellie – should be getting easier. But somehow nerves and tension were taking the reins. Maybe working together would be a good thing. When she was out of sight he seemed to have no control over his mind putting her up on a pedestal. But if he saw her every couple of days, he reasoned, he’d be reminded just how human she was, and just how different they now were. He’d be reminded of what her life had become without him.

  ‘We’re here.’ Lucy clapped her hands excitedly as the Memorial Hall loomed into view.

  Flynn parked the ute beside the building, readying himself for the night ahead. As he stepped out onto the gravel, however, a golden Premier pulled up behind them. It felt like a boa constrictor was slowly wrapping itself around him. Would this sick feeling ever disperse?

  Then, just as the boa reached his neck, she stepped out of the Premier, glanced up and smiled. The constrictor released its hold. There was something about the way certain people smiled that made you feel it all over your body. Just a simple lift of their lips and your bones melted. Ellie had always been that kind of person for Flynn, but he didn’t want to feel that way about her anymore.

  He nodded, careful not to smile back but unable to resist running his eyes over her body and taking in every perfect detail. From her sleek dark hair, tied back in a high ponytail and showing off her smooth neck, to the black T-shirt and slim-fitting jeans that left little to the imagination. He knew how that skin, how those toned muscles, felt beneath his fingertips. It didn’t take much to jolt his memory back to the fun they used to have together. Or that first time he’d caught sight of her without any clothes on.

  He closed his eyes and turned away, only to be hit by the strong aroma of a truck full of sheep careening down the hill. The smell brought him back to his senses, reminding him that he wasn’t here to perve or reminisce, but to help. To support Lucy in her latest bit of excitement.

  ‘Shit!’ yelled Matilda waving her hand in front of her nose. Ellie helped her out of the car and pulled two crutches from the back. ‘Literally.’

  Lucy and Ellie laughed at Matilda’s crudeness and Flynn couldn’t help a chuckle as well. Old Ms T always had a way with words – even more so, a way of putting everyone at ease. Without thinking he rushed forward to hold the passenger door out of the way as Ellie helped Matilda adjust the crutches under her arms.

  ‘Blasted things,’ muttered Matilda. Flynn smiled down at her. He hadn’t seen Ellie’s godmother in quite some time. She’d aged in the last few months, now looking like an old woman, although he knew she couldn’t be much over sixty-five. Her fall must have knocked her bad. ‘Can’t wait to use them to shoo the magpies.’

  ‘Mat,’ warned Ellie, as she grabbed their bags from the car. ‘Don’t rush your recovery.’ She glanced up at Lucy and Flynn and shook her head. ‘This woman is a terrible patient.’

  ‘I can well imagine,’ said Flynn, feeling slightly odd to be chatting about something so normal with his ex.

  With Ellie on one side and Lucy on the other, the four of them slowly made their way into the hall. Ellie tried to make conversation, but Flynn was all too aware of how focused she was on Matilda. Should the older woman stumble, Ellie would catch her in a second.

  ‘So, Lucy twisted your arm, did she?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘It didn’t take much twisting,’ Flynn replied, honestly. ‘Where Lucy’s concerned I have a problem saying no. Besides, getting involved guarantees me a preview of the show. I’m desperate to see my little sis in action.’

  ‘She’s got some serious talent,’ Ellie said. He could practically feel the glow radiating off Lucy at Ellie’s compliment.

  ‘She doesn’t get it from me. Just the thought of getting up in front of a crowd has always scared me shitless.’

  ‘What about football?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘That’s different,’ he replied.

  ‘We won’t try and lure you into an acting role, then,’ said Ellie. She was trying for relaxed and friendly, but you could almost see the tension in the air. Like each word they spoke had to be carefully thought out and run past a committee.

  Flynn was more than happy when the rehearsal kicked off and Ellie took the cast to the stage. Matilda and Joyce gathered the crew at the other end of the hall and went over where they were at. Flynn nodded at the others as he was introduced as the newest team member. He met the teenage boys who were interested in helping and listened to Joyce’s vision for the scenery, making an immense effort not to let his gaze drift to the stage. For a play that wasn’t a comedy there certainly was a lot of laughter wafting from that direction. He tried his best to block it out.

  ‘So, Sam,’ he addressed the taller of the teenage boys. He recognised him as the son of a farmer he knew – his carrot-red hair, lanky physique and goofy grin were dead giveaways. ‘And Troy, is it?’ he said to the other. They both nodded, and Troy – quite stocky and tanned, like he spent every day in the sun – held out his hand to Flynn. He had a firm handshake, more fitting to a grown man than a high-schooler.

  ‘Nice to meet ya.’ Troy glanced over at the actors and smiled an even goofier grin than Sam. ‘Lucy said you really know your stuff. T&E’s my favourite subject, can’t wait to get started.’

  Flynn liked his no-nonsense attitude, and remembered that T&E – Tech and Enterprise – was his favourite subject at school as well, but the way he looked at Lucy irked him.

  ‘You and Luce good friends, are ya?’

  Sam snorted. Troy digged him in the side with his elbow and looked seriously at Flynn. ‘She’s a top bird.’

  Flynn wasn’t comfortable with this conversation topic, so he suggested they work out their approach. On two tables they spread out butcher’s paper and started to draw up plans. He enjoyed working with Sam and Troy (especially when he didn’t think about Troy’s feelings for Lucy), and by the time they wound up for the evening he was happy that he’d barely glanced in Ellie’s direction. Well, almost barely. A few more nights like this and he might even be able to look her in the eye without breaking into a cold sweat.

  ‘The night is young,’ called Matilda, balanced very nicely on her crutches. ‘Who’s coming for a drink at the pub? I think we deserve to celebrate the progress we’ve made, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ chorused the cast and crew. There was even a whoop and a whistle from someone down the back. Everyone gathered their belongings, and Ellie sidled over to Mat.

  ‘Do you think this is a good idea? Dr Bates said you still need to rest.’

  Matilda threw her eyebrows skyward and shrugged. ‘Bollocks to the doctor. This old woman needs a drink.’

  ‘You’re not old,’ sighed Ellie. She was happy to see Mat recovering but was terrified by the idea of facing a rowdy pub crowd. The theatre group was one thing – they’d come to accept her and value her ideas – but she worried that stepping out in public would be like putting a tadpole in an aquarium full of crocodiles.

  And there was that other little detail: Flynn might come too.

  Every second of tonight’s rehearsal, Ellie had been aware of Flynn at the other end of the hall. She’d stolen more than a reasonable number of glimpses, and had sighed longingly at his sculpted arms flexed over the table as he sketched. When she’d come back to town, she’d expected to see Flynn, sure, but socialising with him was another kettle of yabbies altogether.

  ‘Stop thinking.’ Matilda glared at Ellie. ‘We’ll all be there to look out for you.’

  ‘Umm …’ And then it hit her – Lucy was under-age. It was unlikely that Flynn, only a recent member of the group himself, would come to the pub
and leave his sister in the ute outside. Ellie relaxed a little, warming to the idea of chilling out and having a few bevvies. Not many of course, since she still had to drive Mat home.

  ‘Okay,’ she relented. ‘Let’s go.’

  The grin Matilda gave her was reward enough. When they got to the pub, however, Ellie saw Lucy and Flynn walking up the path in front of them. It was only then that she remembered where she was. The rules were different in the country. Lucy was allowed in the pub, as were those boys who followed her around like lovesick puppies, so long as they stayed in the back bar, with adults, and away from the TAB section. And of course, they weren’t allowed to drink.

  Her heart rate sped up as she stepped past Flynn, who was holding the door open for them and a number of others trailing behind. He appeared to feel the same apprehension, for he quickly grabbed himself a drink and sat at a table with Lucy and her mates. Ellie didn’t know if he was looking her way at all – she forced herself not to twist her head in their direction. Instead she focused on relearning The Commercial Hotel (which had changed a lot in the years she’d been away) and on the conversation at her table. She told herself Flynn’s chuckle was simply extra loud and it wasn’t that she was oversensitive to his presence.

  And after a while she actually relaxed and stopped thinking about him. Her newfound friends – a few young mums, all new to town – didn’t care about her past and had welcomed her into the fold. She only saw them on rehearsal nights, but they were a lot of fun. Even though they all kept busy with their kids, she could imagine herself getting friendly with them if she were staying in Hope. Which of course she was not.

  Sarah, a mother of three boys under three (Ellie could hardly imagine), sculled her last few mouthfuls of wine. ‘That’s me done,’ she said, glancing around the table with a wicked twinkle in her eye. ‘Who’s buying next?’

  ‘I think it must be me.’ Ellie rummaged in her bag for her purse and stood up. ‘Same again, everyone?’

  After a unanimous ‘Yes’, Ellie headed for the bar. She recognised the woman behind it – some days it seemed like everybody in Hope Junction had been in her graduating class – and addressed her with a confidence she didn’t feel.

  ‘Hi Whitney.’ Ellie tried to smile. Whitney and Lauren had been like Siamese twins at school, and now they were near identical in their Barbie-like perfection. The only time Ellie looked that polished was when she’d spent a couple of hours in hair and makeup. She fiddled self-consciously with her ponytail as she waited for Whitney to reply. When she didn’t, Ellie tried again.

  ‘Two lemonades and two house whites, please.’ Ellie waited for Whitney to acknowledge her order. Whitney turned and walked to the end of the bar. She picked up a couple of tumblers, which Ellie assumed were for the soft drinks, but then started polishing them. Ellie stared, dumbfounded for a good minute before she called out.

  ‘Umm, excuse me, did you get my order?’

  Whitney stopped, sighed loudly and gave Ellie almost the exact look that Lucy had given her before she’d undergone her drastic attitude change.

  ‘I’m still reeling at your audacity, actually. Thinking you can come in here and ask for drinks like you belong.’ Her voice rose as she spat poison across the bar. ‘We don’t serve scum.’

  Ellie blinked, painful goosebumps prickling her skin. She hated to let someone like Whitney get the better of her, but after the pleasant evening she’d been having, this nastiness came as a shock. Tears bubbled at the corners of her eyes. She could just imagine the joy and gossip between Whitney and Lauren if she collapsed in sobs in the middle of the pub. It wasn’t a pleasant vision. She had to get out, fast.

  Miraculously, she held her head high as she hightailed it out of the bar, the door slamming behind her. It was only when she almost fell down the steps that she recalled Mat (and her crutches) still inside. She halted, grasping the railing for support. Inhale, exhale – she monitored her breathing, fearful of another panic attack.

  ‘Come on, Ellie,’ she spoke firmly to herself. ‘You can handle it. Back inside. Now.’ Wiping her eyes, she was about to turn around when she heard a deep voice behind her.

  ‘Are you okay, Els?’

  Chapter Twelve

  Flynn thought he’d been doing a pretty good job of feigning interest in the conversation between his sister and her admirers. It appeared Sam had as much of a soft spot for Lucy as Troy did. They weren’t bad kids, he had to give them that. In fact, Troy reminded him of himself at that age – besotted with a girl and willing to do anything to impress her.

  Yet he’d be kidding himself if he said he wasn’t constantly aware of Ellie, of where she was in the room, whom she was talking to and what she was doing. She’d had two lemonades and was smiling a lot as she listened to the others at her table. He didn’t know the three women she was chatting with well. Two of them were teachers in town and had ended up marrying local farmers – rarely did a Perth uni grad leave Hope without a ring on their finger and a farmer on their arm. The other one was newer, married to a South African – together they’d bought one of the farms everyone had pegged as unsaleable due to the drought. He was glad they’d taken a fancy to Ellie. She’d never really made close female friends at school, so there was no one around – apart from Mat – for her to fall back in with. The company of women her own age would do her good.

  He took a long slug of his OJ, settled back and tried to catch on to what Lucy was talking about. The cool liquid was halfway down his throat when he heard Whitney holler across the bar.

  ‘We don’t serve scum.’

  He choked, spilling his glass across the table. Since going out with Rats, Whitney had become like another sister to Flynn, and he knew she felt strongly about protecting him. But dammit, did she need to humiliate Ellie in the process?

  The pub door clunked shut, making a loud clatter in the fresh silence. All conversations had stopped, and all eyes were either on Whitney or the newly slammed door. Mouths gaped.

  Matilda, wide-eyed with fury, barked at Joyce. ‘Pass me those sticks!’ Joyce moved to the crutches leaning against the table, but Flynn jumped up instead.

  ‘I’ll go.’

  Matilda slumped back against the chair, already breathless with the stress. ‘Thanks,’ she mouthed at Flynn.

  He strode towards the exit and down the front steps and, in the dimly lit night, nearly missed Ellie leaning over the railing. His heart squeezed at the sight of her, quietly sobbing. Broken. For a moment, he almost turned back. She wasn’t his problem, wasn’t his worry anymore – not that he’d ever looked upon her like that – and he’d never been good with tears … but when he heard her talking to herself, urging herself to trudge back inside like a trooper, he knew he had to say something.

  ‘Are you okay, Els?’ Ellie, he should have said. Ellie. Els was a pet name, the special nickname he’d used from the moment he’d started flirting with her over the Bunsen burners in Chemistry.

  She took a moment, but eventually she turned around. By the look on her face, she was anything but okay.

  ‘Come here.’ Arms open, he pulled her into his chest before either of them could think twice about it. Physical contact probably wasn’t the best idea, but damn it felt good. As she shed quiet tears against his shirt – already splashed with juice – and her head rested on his shoulder, his body couldn’t help but relish the feel of her against him. Again. She’d always been the perfect fit.

  They stayed like that for a couple of minutes – Ellie crying, Flynn comforting – as he fought the too-good memories that flooded his mind. Eventually she pulled back slightly, looked up into his eyes and spoke.

  ‘Sorry. I’m messing up your shirt.’

  He raised a brow at her. ‘This old thing?’ To which she cracked a smile.

  ‘I’d better go back inside,’ she said, stepping out of his embrace.

  He reached forward and lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. He tried to ignore the satin feel of her skin. ‘Are you ready for
that yet?’

  She sniffed and shook her head. ‘I’m such a mess. This is so embarrassing.’

  He glanced behind them and saw the many inquisitive eyes peering out the windows of the pub. ‘Walk with me,’ he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. He ushered her down the stairs and along the path.

  She hesitated a moment, but then her long legs stepped in time to his. He led her into a side street where he knew there was a wooden bench. It was dark, secluded, lit only by a single streetlight on the other side of the road. In a place like this a woman might assume he had ulterior motives, but he knew Ellie wasn’t stupid. Out of range of the pub, he dropped his arm to his side. Where once they would have sat as close as physically possible, he waited until she sat before taking a spot at the opposite end.

  ‘Has it been hell coming back?’ he asked eventually. In the shadows, he could only just make out the way she bit her lip, contemplating an answer. Once upon a time she didn’t censor her words with him.

  ‘A bit.’ She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘But I know I deserve it.’

  ‘Deserve what?’

  She snorted. ‘This town adores you, Flynn. I’m the scarlet woman. Evil incarnate. People cross the road when they see me or head down a different aisle in the Co-op.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘Hah! You shouldn’t be apologising. None of this is your fault.’ She looked up at the night sky and sighed. ‘I forget there are so many stars out here. In Sydney, I’m lucky if I can see one or two.’