Under The Hood

by Juanita Kees

  “Was not! How do you know?” He took them from her, frowning when she held on to the basket.

  “The boys told me.” Her eyes glittered with laughter as she caught his scowl. She let the basket go. “Thank you for putting her away in the workshop tonight.”

  He shrugged. “No point leaving her to the mercy of the car yard vandals over the weekend.”

  Across the table, their eyes met and lingered. TJ dropped hers first and tucked enthusiastically into Rose’s tender lamb roast, drizzled with fresh mint sauce.

  “So when is Sarge coming over, Scott?” Bill broke into the suddenly awkward silence.

  Scott thought of his Rottweiler, a 60kg teddy bear that occasionally masqueraded as a guard dog.

  “He’s staying with a friend of mine until I find a house with a yard big enough for him. The townhouse garden is way too small for him.”

  “He can stay here until you find something, Scott.” Rose was quick to offer. “He’d love the open space here.”

  “Never thought of that, Mum. Good idea. I’ll arrange it.”

  The conversation moved to house hunting and Scott watched as TJ began to relax again. Dinner passed pleasantly as silence settled in the hills.

  “Scott, will you walk TJ home?” Rose asked later as they relaxed over coffee around the fire in the lounge room.

  “There’s no need! I’ll be fine.”

  “I know Bill and I normally walk you, but my hip’s been playing up a little.”

  Scott’s eyes narrowed. Was his mother matchmaking? He hoped not. As she stood, he noticed she limped a little. He shook his head at the slight exaggeration of the limp.

  “Really, Rose. I can look after myself,” TJ argued.

  “Now, you know it’s so dark out there, you can’t see your hand in front of your face with no street lights. I’m sure Scott won’t mind.”

  Scott did mind. The two of them alone in the dark? Did rules apply in the dark? But his parents were right. Even in an area this safe, you couldn’t take risks.

  “I don’t mind.” Liar! “If we go now, I can have a look at Bruce.”

  TJ hesitated, but the chorus of agreement drowned out any refusal she could make. So she shrugged and said, “Okay. I’ll just help Rose clean up the kitchen and then we can go.”

  “No, no! Bill will give me a hand to clean up.” Rose cut off Bill’s protest with a silencing look. “Off you go.”

  “Come on, TJ. You won’t win this round.”

  Scott offered her a hand up out of the bean bag next to the fire. She ignored it and stood up to place her mug on the coffee table. He put both his hands in his pockets. All he needed to do was keep them there. Easy right?

  “Thanks for dinner.” She bent and kissed first Rose’s then Bill’s cheek. “Night.”

  She sailed through the door without waiting for him.

  Scott picked up a torch and followed behind her, careful not to follow too closely. He put out a hand as she skidded on loose gravel but she grabbed a branch instead and righted herself. The line was clearly drawn.

  All the way up her steep driveway, he had a view of her perfectly rounded derrière encased in snug-fitting denim. All she’d have to do was wiggle that lovely bum and she’d have him panting at her feet, he thought wryly. As she veered off the driveway towards a massive shed, he tried to remember the invisible line … and the rules. She dragged the heavy door back on its sliding groove and snapped on the light. Industrial lighting blinded him momentarily as it revealed a beautifully restored 1953 Holden FJ utility.

  “Meet Bruce, the love of Sheila’s life,” TJ said waving her hand.

  Bruce and Sheila. He shook his head as he watched her snag a polish cloth off the work bench nearby and rub at the chrome badge on the bonnet. Scott stepped up to run a hand over the smooth cream fender before strolling around to admire the rear.

  “New look tail light lens, original name badge, original hubcaps. Are these real white-walls?” He moved around the car. “Modified grille, genuine leather upholstery…” he noted in awe. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

  “… Straight-six grey motor with modified, longer-life pistons and torsional-type compression rings,” she finished for him. “I worked a lot of extra hours to pay for those parts.”

  “Do you plan to do the same for Sheila?” He paused with his hand on the polished chrome door handle to look at her as she leaned a hip against the work bench.

  “Yes.” She hooked the key off a nail above the work bench and tossed it to him. “Start him up.”

  Scott didn’t need a second invitation. He caught the key neatly and opened the door to slide in behind the wheel as TJ popped the bonnet. He turned the key and the motor purred to life. He got out and stood next to her.

  “Purrs like a kitten.” He ducked his head under the bonnet and turned his left ear closer to catch the sound. “Smooth as silk.”

  TJ beamed. “Hours of fine tuning and good grade oil.”

  “You know your stuff,” he said. He straightened and their shoulders touched. There it was again. That zing that couldn’t—shouldn’t—be acknowledged. Yes, she’d crawled right in under his defences, this enigma that was TJ Stevens … a puzzle he could spend hours trying to solve. Her lack of self-awareness, her energy and enthusiasm, and the fierce pride that came to the fore when challenged: all these traits stirred his senses.

  TJ felt his gaze on her face and ignored the pleasant shiver it sent tingling up her spine. She saw the hand he raised and felt his knuckles brush her cheek. She stepped out of reach.

  “Mind your hands, Scott. I’ll drop the bonnet.” She indicated to the hand that rested on the cold steel of the engine bay.

  He folded his arms and leaned against the ute. “So, about Sheila?”

  “Yes. Sheila was meant to be a restoration project for the boys on the program. I supplied the parts and they would provide the labour.”

  “What happened?”

  “I ran out of money. I had money saved up for the parts but then I had to use it to apply for the building permit for the restoration of the cabins. Every building inspection cost me and, ultimately, the permit was denied because the asbestos couldn’t be removed safely. So the money reserved for Sheila and the project went down with the plans for the youth camp.”

  “What about the grant?”

  “It only applies to the apprenticeship program at M & M. Unfortunately, an apprenticeship will only keep them off the streets during the day.”

  “How’s that your problem?”

  She sighed and walked to the workbench where she played with the array of screwdrivers that lay forgotten on the surface. How many times had people asked her exactly that? Slowly, as if measuring her response, she began to place each screwdriver in the allotted rack on the wall. She stretched to reach the top rack, revealing creamy skin as her shirt lifted with each movement.

  The bright orange safety step landed with a thump next to her as Scott moved closer. “Stand on that.”

  She stepped onto it and continued her task. “It’s my problem because I chose to make it so. Some of those kids are homeless. They’ve either been kicked out or run away. Or their parents have simply given up and don’t care whether they come home or not. Like Marty.”

  “So you thought you’d build a refuge?”

  “Yes. A place where they could sleep, eat and maybe find a purpose in life. I figured if I kept them busy working on cars and around the property, they would learn skills and have a roof over their heads. Maybe even keep them off the streets.”

  “And the funding to run it?”

  She shrugged. “I had some charities interested in helping with funding because their own refuges were overflowing. I planned fundraisers and grant applications. Ethan Wright, the program counsellor, was helping me with those.”

  “And?”

  “It all fell to pieces. The council refused the application because there was some concern that the kids would present a threat to the safety of the co
mmunity and the security of the area. Until I can prove they won’t, the deal’s off.”

  “So unless you can secure funding, rebuild the cabins and persuade the boys to stay clean, you’re screwed?”

  “Pretty much.” She turned on the square step to face him, her eyes now level with his. “And every day I watch kids like Marty, Tiny, Connor and Luke slip farther away. All I can do is keep trying to get them back.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone has to.”

  His eyes held hers for what seemed like a lifetime. She felt the impact all the way to her stomach, where it sent heat spreading through her core. His hands enclosed her waist, spread up her ribs, skimmed past her breasts before he lifted her under the arms and off the step. They stood close as the heat built between them. Then he dropped his hands and stepped back.

  “I’ll see you to your door. And I’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow to pick up Marty. On one condition.”

  TJ smoothed her shirt down where it had bunched up when he’d lifted her off the step. The imprint of his hands, seared into her flesh, tingled pleasantly. She ignored it. “Condition?”

  “We take Bruce, and I drive.”

  Chapter Six

  Deciding what to wear shouldn’t be this hard. Discarding her fifth outfit, TJ stood in her underwear and faced her jumbled wardrobe. She was going to the hospital for God’s sake, not on a date! She pulled on her well-worn jeans and partnered them with a long teal singlet under a pink-checked cotton shirt. She tugged on her running shoes and secured her hair in a knot. There! Not an ounce of flesh showing, so no encouragement for Scott to touch.

  What flowed so easily between them could not be encouraged. She couldn’t afford to be a casualty in the trail he left in his wake. The gossip columns were littered with his cast-offs and, as much as she didn’t put much store into gossip, where there was smoke there was usually fire. She finished tying her shoelaces as he pounded on the door.

  “Coming!” she called as she swept through the house and picked up her handbag off the table. She whipped open the door. “Hi!” And all coherent thought tripped through it and tumbled down the hill to be washed away by the creek.

  A tight-fitting black T-shirt emphasised every muscle, outlined every contour and clung with the loving affection of well-worn cotton to his chest. Scott stood on her veranda with sunglasses in his hand looking like temptation itself. He still hadn’t shaved. The stubble sinfully caressed his jaw and invited wanton fingers to follow it to the equally sinful lips it shadowed.

  “Ready?” Even his voice took on the dark slide of velvet as it flowed over her.

  All she could do was nod. He turned and strode down the slippery steps with a confident swagger that drew her eyes to the black denim covering his perfectly shaped bum.

  “Ah … bugger!” said TJ and committed $2.00 to the swear jar. She might as well be in credit.

  He opened the sliding door to the shed and TJ had to admit she enjoyed watching the muscles ripple in his arms and across his shoulders. But that was all she allowed herself. There was no point in coveting what she couldn’t have. They were chalk and cheese. He was a successful businessman and she was his tradie. Worlds apart.

  “You coming or are you going to stand there all day?”

  She followed him into the shed, snagging Bruce’s key from the hook as she passed. He held out his hand and she hesitated.

  “A deal is a deal,” he reminded her.

  She dropped the keys and opened the passenger door. “He’s temperamental.”

  “I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”

  He slid easily behind the wheel and took a moment to caress the dash. TJ busied herself with her seatbelt.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she snapped as it clipped into place.

  His hand stopped and dropped to the steering wheel. “Something bothering you, Tiger?” He cast her a sidelong look as he slipped his sunglasses on with the other hand.

  “No,” she lied.

  “Okay, then.”

  He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. With expert hands, he guided the old car down the steep drive and Bruce, bless him, didn’t slip, stall or sputter once. The traitor!

  They drove in silence as Scott negotiated the winding bends through the hills and down to the flatlands. He was enjoying himself, she noticed. The grin on his face was contagious, and TJ relaxed a little. As long as they didn’t cross that invisible line, they’d be fine.

  “So what happens to Marty when he’s discharged?” he asked as they pulled up at the traffic lights that connected them to the highway into Perth.

  “I take him home, clean him up, and we start again.”

  “How long does he stay with you?”

  “As long as he likes.”

  “How does he behave after one of these benders?”

  TJ stared out the window at the traffic that lined the highway. Her hand clutched the strap of the seatbelt where it crossed her shoulder. Her knuckles were white.

  “It depends on how long he’s been in hospital. If the drugs are completely out of his system, he’s usually tired and drained. He sleeps a lot and then eats like a horse. If not, he can be difficult, moody, aggressive or, worse, suicidal.”

  “Jesus, TJ! And you’re alone with this kid?”

  “Not always. Ethan visits him twice a week, and your mum and dad pop over to make sure everything’s okay. My brother Rob comes by after work sometimes and spends time with him.”

  “And when they all go home?”

  “I’m alone with the kid.” She shrugged. “Marty won’t hurt me.”

  “But Tiny would?”

  “Tiny only stays with me if Ethan or Rob stay too.”

  Scott’s mouth was grim. “So… Ethan?”

  “What about him?”

  “Are you…”

  “Involved with him? No. Ethan is married to his job. We have an agreement when it comes to the program, that’s all.”

  “Have you ever been involved with him?”

  “We went out on a couple of dates once, but we’re friends. Why?”

  Scott negotiated the traffic in silence for a moment before replying, “Just curious. Has Marty ever tried to hurt you?”

  She remained silent.

  “For God’s sake, TJ.”

  She sighed. “Once, maybe twice. He has frequent nightmares, hallucinations sometimes, and if he’s not fully awake, he can get confused.”

  He swore long and hard. “Remind me to add my contribution to the swear jar. Why? Why do you put yourself in danger for these kids?”

  “It’s okay, I’m in credit. And, like I’ve said before, someone has to.”

  “That’s what the goddam authorities are for! Where do they fit in?” The flat of his palm smacked against Bruce’s steering wheel.

  TJ’s temper boiled. “Nowhere, because no one gives a flying f—” She stopped as tears choked her throat. She swallowed them determinedly. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed to control them. “Once they’re released to their guardians, they get buried in red tape. The department doesn’t have the resources to follow up on every case regularly and, sometimes, the kids slip through the cracks, especially the older ones. Ethan works for the apprenticeship board, not child protection, but he does what he can with the authority he has.”

  Scott reached across to take her hand where it lay clenched in her lap. His fingers stroked rhythmically across her white knuckles. “I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand before returning his to the steering wheel. “When my dog arrives, he’s staying with you.”

  TJ laughed. “To do what? Lick them to death if they hurt me? You said yourself he’s a teddy bear.”

  Scott smiled back. “Oh, I think he has the heart of a lion if he’s forced into it.” He pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Let’s go and see what kind of mood Marty’s in. I might have to stay over at your place tonight.”

  TJ wasn’t sure who she should be more scared of
: Marty, Scott or herself.

  Ethan Wright leaned against the door frame of Marty’s ward as Scott and TJ rounded the corner. In the stark white light, his face was grim.

  “I don’t like that look, Ethan.” TJ stopped in front of him and placed a hand on his arm.

  He patted her hand and straightened. “You’re not going to like what I have to tell you either.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek before extending a hand to shake Scott’s. “Do you want to see Marty first or should we get business out of the way now?”

  TJ sighed. As choices went, neither was looking promising if Ethan’s expression was anything to go by. “Let’s get business out the way first. Marty won’t mind waiting a little longer. Have you seen him?”

  Ethan nodded as he placed a hand in the small of her back to guide her into the visitor’s lounge. “This was a bad round for him. The apprenticeship board has decided to give him one more chance. It took some persuading.”

  “Thank you. What about Tiny?”

  Ethan dropped his hand and shook his head. “He’s off the program. I couldn’t change their minds this time. He’s eighteen next week and doesn’t need parental or guardian consent after that. The board doesn’t see him staying of his own free will.”

  “So that’s it for him?” TJ shuddered at the thought of the consequences: homeless, jobless, hopeless and at the mercy of street dealers.

  “I’m afraid so … unless he has a change of heart and toes the line.”

  “He can’t do that on his own.”

  “And you can’t put yourself at risk to help him. You’ve tried. It almost got you killed twice. This is one battle where you’re going to have to admit defeat.”

  “Defeat isn’t a word in my dictionary, Ethan. You know that.” She folded her arms tightly against her chest. “I’ll find a way.”

  Scott moved to join the conversation, two cups of coffee in hand. He offered one to TJ, but she shook her head so he handed it to Ethan instead and asked, “What if I get him to sign a workplace contract and take him on as a Trade Assistant?”

  “You’d do that? After all the trouble he’s caused?” Ethan tipped his coffee cup in a salute. “I thought you’d put him in the too hard basket. If he was a cat he’d have used all his lives.”