by Duggan, C. J
“You’re not seriously contemplating wearing any of this?” I whispered to the curtain.
“Why not?” laughed Tess as she tried on a 1920s-style hat. “It would be worth it just to see the looks on the boys’ faces.”
Amy poked her head out from the curtain. “YES! We should totally pick something for tonight.”
Bangles and tinkering china approached. “Ladies, I have made you some Devonshire tea. We have a lovely courtyard in the back. You can talk over your outfit decisions.”
“Um, I think I love Evoka,” Ellie said, draping her dress over her shoulder and following the lady out of the back French door.
“Ta-da!” Amy flung back the curtain, sporting a leopard-print miniskirt and a black lace spaghetti strap top. She actually looked really good, and my heart sank a little as I eyed what was left on the rack.
“I love it!” beamed Tess.
“I can’t wait to see Sean’s face,” Amy said as she adjusted the straps.
“Wow, we are really doing this, aren’t we?” I asked.
“Yep. It’s all or nothing,” said Belinda.
Taking on board their expectant looks, I sighed and went back searching through the rack. It was all well and good to rock up at the local pub tonight having made some questionable fashion choices, but something deeper niggled inside my mind. It was more than being the centre of attention, or looking like a fool in front of the girls; I didn’t care about that. But I didn’t want to look a fool in front of the boys.
In front of Chris.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Belinda was kind enough to wait for me as I used the changing room.
Although, in reality, I really didn’t need or want her to. I would have been perfectly happy if she had just gone out to the courtyard with the others while I stayed behind the curtain and stared miserably at my reflection.
“I don’t know about this,” I said, biting my lip.
“Come on, show me,” Belinda called.
“I just don’t think …”
“Tammy, now.”
I sighed deeply. “Okay.”
I peeled the curtain back and stepped out from the alcove, facing another full-length mirror next to where Belinda sat on a stool.
I turned, trying to look at myself from all angles, only to be stilled by Belinda’s wolf whistle.
“That is hot!” she said.
“I look like a belly dancer.” I pulled down my midriff top that exposed my belly. The long, flowing white skirt pulled around my legs with a shimmering gold embossed pattern etched across the layers. The white was a stark contrast against my tanned skin.
“A hot belly dancer,” Belinda added.
I knew she was just being nice; I didn’t really know her so what else was she supposed to say? You look like a dog?
“Ringer said you had a bangin’ body.” Belinda folded her arms.
“What?” I turned, wide-eyed.
She shrugged. “I asked him what you looked like, and he was very accurate in his description. Come to think of it, very detailed.” She tilted her head in deep thought.
I turned back toward the mirror. I wondered if that was the conversation Amy had overheard? I still had to clear up what she had blackmailed Chris with. If that was it, I felt a little disappointed and I didn’t want to admit the reason why. Somehow I had convinced myself that maybe Chris had said something about me. I shook the idea from my mind – who had I been kidding? He would have been the last person to say anything at all, let alone about me.
I sighed. “I am sure Villa Co-Co is the party capital of Evoka, but I think I’ll pass.” Stepping back into the change room, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a deep-seated misery. Sometimes I wished I could just let go, just stress less and enjoy myself like the others, but I was always plagued with doubt, with worry. Afraid of not fitting in, which was ironic as I sabotaged every chance of fitting in by constantly stepping aside from everyone.
Belinda was still waiting for me as I stepped back out and placed my outfit back onto the rack. She offered me a small smile. “That’s okay, I won’t dress up either. It was a silly idea.”
“Belinda, you don’t have to …”
“No, it’s okay,” she said as she slid off her stool. “I’m not a sheep; I don’t follow others just because they’re doing it.”
Maybe she was just trying to make me feel better?
Somehow, I didn’t think so. It turned out, I kind of liked Belinda. I liked her quiet strength and understated presence.
“Come on, I may very well need your back-up while I break it to the others,” I said, making our way toward the courtyard.
“I wouldn’t be too worried – how many fights break out over Devonshire tea? None, I’m guessing; it’s just not civilised.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said with a laugh.
***
I was relieved the others bought their outfits anyway, even though they decided that maybe Evoka wasn’t exactly the right place to try them out. They vowed that they would wear them out somewhere, though.
“It’s a shame, really,” said Amy, heaving her bags along as we walked toward the car. “That’s actually the first time I’ve seen Tess laugh in a while; I think the silly fashion parade was a good distraction for her.”
I glanced back at the others trailing several metres behind us; I felt a pang of guilt surge within me. “Now I feel bad that we’re not dressing up.”
“Huh? Oh, no, don’t be silly, it’s going to take more than stepping out in fancy dress to cheer up Tess long term,” Amy said.
“What’s going on? Is Tess okay?” I pressed, taking the moment to find out once and for all the mystery behind Tess’s sad eyes.
“I hope so, I hope this trip gets better for her than it started, but I think she is at a bit of a loss as to what to do, and none of us really know what to say to her.”
Do about what? What didn’t I know? I remained silent, hoping Amy would continue.
“It’s Toby,” she said. “He’s been really distant of late, we’ve all noticed it. And the first night we camped they must have had a humdinger of a fight in the car because they weren’t even speaking to each other when they arrived and I could tell Tess had been crying.”
“Well, all couples fight,” I said. Yeah, like I was some expert.
“Not Tess and Toby. Not like this. I would have shrugged it off as well, but I can see it too. Like how he sat by the fire most of the night, just staring into the flames. He’s so distant, so not himself.”
“Does Sean know anything?” I asked.
Amy sighed. “He says he’s going to have a talk to him, pull him aside and see what’s going on.”
I nodded. “Maybe some time alone together will be good for them; you know, Toby and Tess.”
We approached the car. Amy slung her bags in the back of the ute, glancing at the others’ approach. “I hope so,” she said, “because I really don’t like where this is headed.”
“Where’s that?” I asked quickly.
“The one other time I saw Toby distant and agitated like this.”
“When was that?”
“The last time he broke up with his girlfriend.”
***
“Those little shits!” cried Ellie.
We slowed down as we made our way past the Villa Co-Co hotel, only to see Ringer’s car parked out the front.
“I can’t believe they went without us! I bet they’ve been there all afternoon.” Ellie glowered out of her window.
“Should we go in?” I asked, wondering if Amy would slow down and do a U-turn. Instead, her brows narrowed and she pumped the accelerator.
“Pfft. Let them have their macho boy bonding.”
Amy stared at the road with an evil grin.
I cocked my brow and glanced into the back for support. “Amy, you scare me when you look like this.”
“Let’s just say, we have a full tank of fuel, and I happen to know there is late night shopping in Calhoon.
”
Ellie gasped. “You’re not seriously thinking of trekking back to Calhoon?”
“Well, ladies, if we’re going to make a fashionably late entrance, we might as well do it in style.”
I bit my lip, a thrill spiking in my stomach as I turned to see the same manic look in the others’ eyes. Amy glanced in her rear-view mirror, no doubt seeing the elated smile across Tess’s face.
Amy turned to me. “What do you think?”
Without hesitation, this time I decided for once to be a sheep. This time I’d follow the crowd, and I’d jump in with both feet.
“Let’s do it!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was dark by the time we returned to the campsite.
We sort of expected to find a note with ‘gone pubbing’ left for our convenience, but instead we found Stan reclining in his fishing chair with a stubby, staring into space. His entire face lit up when he saw us approach.
“Hey,” he said, standing up quickly. “What took you so long?”
“Just a side-trip shopping adventure,” said Ellie as she held up her bags with glee. She turned to Tess. “Come on, we’ll get ready in the big tent.”
Tess cringed. “I have never gotten ready in a tent before.”
“That makes both of us,” Ellie said. She held the canvas partition back for Tess.
I turned to smile at Bell and Stan, but they were too busy reacquainting themselves with one another with doe-eyed looks.
And that’s my cue to exit.
I took my bags to the van, my second home these days. Amy headed toward the woods. “Meet back at the car in fifteen!” she called back.
Ellie’s head poked out through the canvas. “Fifteen minutes? Are you serious?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Amy repeated.
Oh-crap-oh-crap-oh-crap.
I ran as best I could up the slanted dirt track toward the van. The others may have never gotten ready in a tent before, but I had never gotten ready in the back of a panel van before.
This was going to be interesting.
I made my way around the back, juggling my baggage to reach for the back handle, praying that Chris hadn’t locked the car. As the magical click sounded and I pulled the door open I was flooded with relief. I threw my shopping bags in the back and hopped inside, ensuring to leave the door slightly ajar so the interior light stayed on. Light was a necessity when applying mascara. Unlike the gypsy skirt in Evoka, in a cute little shop in Calhoon I had managed to find a fitted, white summer dress with vintage lace embroidery. It was so delicate, so light and feminine and cost an absolute fortune from one of those indie clothes designers. Still, I had fallen in love with it and felt like I wanted to walk into the Villa Co-Co and see Chris from across the bar, and I wanted for once to stride into a space with absolute confidence, offer a coy smile perhaps as I locked eyes with him. I had run through all the scenarios as I’d looked over my outfit in the changing room. And then, of course, I had snapped out of my daydream.
Why was I so intent on making a good impression on Chris?
I didn’t know where my head was at lately, and it didn’t help that I had seen a different side to Chris the last couple of days: a caring side, a lighthearted side. But why wouldn’t he be? He’s on holidays and we were all relaxed (well, aside from Toby and Tess – that was a worry). I was sure it wouldn’t take long for Chris to seep back into his old, grumblebum ways, especially around his friends.
And then I had another scenario go through my mind: me entering the Villa Co-Co and being completely ignored by him while he drank with the boys. It was a possibility – just because we were forced to travel together and he had done a few nice things didn’t mean he thought of me any differently.
I blinked a couple of times, snapping out of my thoughts. I had to hurry up; I had done nothing more than lay out my dress and accessories as I sat back on my heels, obsessing about stupid ‘what if?’ scenarios.
I had too much to do in too little time, and too little space, so it would seem. I balanced awkwardly on the spongy mattress as I undressed and slipped on my new under things. I had really gone all out, going so far as to buy some new perfume, which I sprayed liberally over my half-dressed body. I smiled to myself as I sprayed it on the mattress as well. Won’t that have the next girl Chris brings back here guessing. I stilled, a familiar pang of jealousy twisted in my stomach.
I didn’t want there to be another girl.
Right! Enough of that, time to get a wriggle on – quite literally, as the best way to get this thing on was to step into my new dress. Leaving the lip glossing and moisturising till the very last minute, my hair and face could happen on the way to the pub. I tried my best to stay upright but the spongy floor underfoot was making it somewhat of a challenge. I swayed from side to side like a drunken sailor, trying to manage one foot through the opening of the dress. I bent over so as not to hit my head on the ceiling and braced one hand against the van wall to steady myself. I tentatively stepped in the dress, and started to shimmy the dress up with my free arm. I was on the home stretch as I managed to pull the tight-fitting dress over my hips. I released the wall to use both hands.
Almost done.
And with those famous last words, the back door to the van flung open and I was blinded by a harsh light.
I screamed and covered my bra as I fell over, squeezing my eyes shut, as if by some kind of miracle it would make me disappear.
“Don’t look at me! Don’t look at me!” I yelled. Worrying less that it could be an axe-wielding maniac breaking into the van than simply someone seeing me in my underwear.
“It’s a little late for that,” said an unmistakable voice.
My eyes snapped open to find Chris casually leaning in the open doorway of the panel van, torch in hand.
“Don’t you knock?” I yelled, trying for angry and less mortified as my arms wrapped around my white lace bra.
“I was actually more worried that the interior light was left on – a flat battery in the morning would not be ideal,” he said in all seriousness, as if seeing me half naked in front of him was the least of his worries.
That idea actually made me more uncomfortable. He didn’t even look me over with any type of male appreciation. Sure, I had wanted to make a good impression, but this certainly wasn’t how I had planned to go about it.
“What are you doing back here anyway?” I asked, annoyed as I turned my back on him to finish hitching my dress up over my shoulders.
“Just seeing what was taking so long, but then we had to remind ourselves that it was probably taking you all four hours to put your make-up on.”
“Ha! Well that’s … where … you’re … wrong,” I said, struggling to reach around behind me to the back of my dress to zip it up.
Oh crap!
Chris sighed. “Come here.”
I turned, wide-eyed. “W-what?”
“Come here,” he repeated, trying to stop his lips from twitching as he turned the torch off and set it aside.
I swallowed deeply and tentatively stepped forward. He held out his hand, to help me out of the van. I took it, almost feeling an electric current pulse from his skin as it touched mine. Goosebumps formed on my flesh that had little to do with the warm summer night, or the fact that the back of my dress was open, exposing me in a new way. He helped me down from the van, guiding me to the ground. He was bathed in a rich yellow glow from the interior light. For the first time I actually took in the fresh, clean lines of his navy polo shirt, and his dark Levi’s were back. His jagged, jet black hair was dry from his shower earlier and my mouth involuntarily pinched into a smile as I realised he was freshly shaven.
“You sure it didn’t take you four hours to get ready?” I mused.
A familiar pinch formed between his brows as he circled his finger in the air. “Turn around.”
I did as he asked, still clasping my hands to my front to hold my dress in place. He pulled the fabric together and gently manoeuvred the zip
upward. He paused only to gather my hair and slide it over my shoulder so he could pull the zip all the way up. I managed to glance back at him, taking in the dramatic lines etched on his face in concentration. He had edged the zip all the way up and my new dress tightened over my body the way it should.
“Thanks,” I said, and went to move, but his hand stopped me.
“Hang on a sec, there’s a button thingy here.”
I could feel him fumbling with the fabric at the nape of my neck, struggling to slot through the button. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, more so when a deep sigh of frustration blew out as he struggled to master the button loop.
“Having trouble?”
“It won’t defeat me,” he said through gritted teeth.
I smirked, holding my hair to the side and stretching my neck out so he could work on the infuriating, delicate button.
After a long moment and a few curses under his breath he said, “There! You’re good to go.”
“Thanks,” I sighed, adjusting my dress. I spun around. “What do you think?” I mentally slapped myself as soon as the words fell out. Chris was not my BFF or one of the girls, what did I expect him to say?
So when he said, “Nice,” it shouldn’t really have felt like he was knifing me in the heart.
Nice … Nice? A cup of tea was nice.
“Wow, thanks, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” I said coolly, reaching for my clutch, concentrating on packing the things I needed for a night out on the town. Lipstick, compact, money, ID. I shoved each piece in my bag with irritated force.
I turned expectantly to him and was startled by the fact that he had moved next to the panel van door. I grabbed the other, pulling to shut it, but he stopped me. He caught the door and my eyes met his.
“What did you want me say?” He stared down at me with a quizzical narrowing of his brows.
Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, let’s forget about the others.
I blinked, trying to compose myself. It was just a simple question.
I let go of the door, leaving him to shut them. “I don’t want you to say anything,” I said lowly, turning to make my way down the track to meet the others.