Still nothing.
Now more than a little frantic, she peered under the furniture, wondering if it'd ended up on the floor. Under the bed? Nope. The rubbish bin! Maybe she'd accidentally thrown it out. Pawing through the tissues and other waste brought her failure home to her like nothing else. Rooting through rubbish in search for absolution for her actions. As if Jay would forgive her, or she needed him to. No, she wouldn't ever forgive herself.
Eventually, she realised there weren't any envelopes or money in the bin and her hands were as soiled as the rest of her, if not more. She should go and wash. Rising stiffly, she stumbled along the boardwalk to the communal staff bathrooms. She was mercifully alone with her thoughts as she scrubbed her hands with soap. Over and over again, but never feeling clean. It wasn't the feeling of crumpled-up tissues in her hands she was trying to wash away. It was the feel of his hard muscles under her fingers as he placed her hand on his belly. The deep purr of his voice telling her he wanted to hear her scream. She hadn't even given him that satisfaction. Even for a prostitute, she'd been a disappointment. He should be banging down her door, asking for a refund. And she owed it to him, her accusing reflection insisted.
What she really wanted was to go back to that night with Jay and forget about the money. To surrender to him utterly for just one night, for that was all it would have been, but one blissful night. A memory she'd treasure for the rest of her life. Now...even the memory of his touch was tainted.
He'd bought the hotel, she remembered with a jolt. How could she face him, after what she'd done? She couldn't work here during the wet season. She'd run into him again on this tiny island and every time would be a stab to her heart, knowing that she'd lied to him out of sheer greed. She'd done it for her family, but that didn't excuse her. How in hell could she tell him she'd taken his money over the pleasure he'd promised so her brother could supply drugs to his crack whore? Real classy.
She needed a job in meteorology, somewhere far from here. It was probably too early, but maybe there'd be news about her job application. She'd forgotten to check her email last night, so she should probably rectify that before breakfast. It wasn't like sleep would return to her any time soon. Better to keep her mind busy.
When she settled in front of her laptop, Audra forced herself to breathe deeply. There wouldn't be any good news yet, but she had to hold on to hope now. She scanned through a week's worth of messages, deleting all the advertising until she found one from Leon dated yesterday, telling her to hurry up and send the money already. She stabbed her finger at the touchpad, feeling more than a little satisfaction at deleting that particular message. The remaining ones on the screen moved up and she spotted one she hadn't before – with the tantalising subject line:
GRADUATE OFFICER APPLICATION
She held her breath as the message downloaded from the server, revealing what was probably just an automatic response, telling her she hadn't been successful or when to give up hope if she hadn't heard from them. But as she started reading, she discovered it was more than a polite rejection letter. They wanted her for an interview in – Audra gulped – three days' time. She thought she had a day off then. But she had to contact them to arrange a time...
Her fingers ticked frantically over the keyboard, apologising for being out of phone and email contact, but she'd be available for an interview any time that day. Phone or video call, she added, as she worked at a remote site and travel was difficult to arrange around her present roster. As if she could afford to fly to Melbourne for a job interview.
If she found Jay's money and chose not to return it, she could, a nasty voice in her head taunted. Oh, it was her own voice, she knew, the same one that seemed fixed on reminding her at every moment that she was a whore for taking the money in the first place. Should've taken the incredible sex for what it was...
A tentative knock sounded at the door.
"Yes?" Audra squeaked, then cleared her throat and added in a more normal tone, "Who is it?" She sent the email and turned her eyes to the door.
"It's me," said Serge. "I wanted to see how you are this morning. Especially after last night."
Audra rose and cracked open the door. "You heard my video call, huh?"
He shrugged. "I've been wondering what the going rate is for gigolos who service residents at the retirement home. If it pays better than personal training, I'll have to keep it in mind."
Much-needed laughter bubbled up in her throat. "I can just imagine all those little old ladies dying to get their hands on you!"
"Dying's probably the right word. If I give the old girls a heart attack, they might not pay me. Hmm, maybe I should stick to what I'm good at." His expression softened. "No matter how bad you feel about what you said, you did the right thing. You deserve to live your own life. Good on you for telling them now instead of when you're on a much bigger salary. Imagine how much crack you'd be buying for your brother's girlfriend when you're not making beds. Is your brother really dating a crack whore? I didn't think they were allowed to date."
She managed a smile. "I doubt it. It's probably just pot. Weed. Or is it ice, the one that makes people stay up all night? Whatever. Not my problem now." She took a deep breath. "About the job I applied for. I...heard back from them today."
"And? When's the interview?"
Audra laughed. "Spoil my news, why don't you? In three days. I thought they weren't interviewing for months, but I guess I was wrong. They even sent the interview questions so I can adequately prepare, or at least that's what it says. How do you prepare for an interview?"
"Oh, you just get someone to ask them and you make up responses. Practice, I guess. Must be an important job if they think you need to prepare for the questions."
"Can you help me with them?" she blurted out, then wished she hadn't. She never asked for favours, because then she'd never be disappointed. Like she'd told her brother, she had to stand on her own two feet and not rely on someone else to support her. "Oh, never mind. I shouldn't have asked."
"I wouldn't know whether to predict sunshine or rain tomorrow, if that's what you're asking, but if you want me to put on my best drill-sergeant voice that I keep for boot camps and hit you with all the hard questions, I'm your man." Serge winked. "Hey, I still owe you for helping me clean up carnage. Friends help friends dispose of bodies, as well as land their dream jobs. What sort of paradise are they planning on sending you to?"
"I don't know yet," she admitted. "We don't get assigned a weather station until we've definitely got the job and there's some training we're supposed to do first, so maybe not even then."
"Tell me when. Any evening this week. We'll take some beers down to the Penguin jetty, I'll interrogate you until you break and then we'll both drink to dreams."
"Tonight, then, or maybe tomorrow, depending on how much mess those conference delegates left behind," Audra said. "There's boxes everywhere in one of the seminar rooms where they put all the conference materials together. I heard they were supposed to take everything with them when they left, but I guess someone wasn't listening. I hope the boxes are all empty."
"It's a date." Serge headed off, whistling.
A date. But whores didn't date. She had to find that money, so she could be a normal person again. One who hadn't sold her body and her soul – if she even had one. Who knew?
FIFTY-FOUR
Audra lifted what felt like the millionth box and she'd lost count of the number of times she'd cursed the conference organisers. They'd bought boxes full of conference programmes that weren't any use to anyone now. Whole forests of trees had been felled for no reason. Now they'd be recycled into cheap toilet paper, or that's what she'd heard. All the hotel's waste paper and cardboard was sold to some recycling company. They'd have a shipload from this bunch.
"Oh, not another one!" Pamela's expression was thunderous as she shifted the box carefully off the top of the stack. The one beneath it tipped dangerously and Audra opened her mouth to issue a warning. Too late. It fe
ll over, scattering round, blue things all over the floor.
Audra reached down to examine one that came to rest beside her foot. "A bloody box of stress balls." She threw it at the wall and it bounced off. "Actually, that helped. Maybe we should keep these."
"You can pick them all up, then," Pamela grumbled. It took a lot to piss Pamela off, but Audra wasn't surprised at the girl's grumpiness today. They'd both heard Annette tell Audra to come by later that afternoon to fill in the paperwork for the permanent, year-round position. Audra hadn't realised that Pamela wanted the position, too, until she'd caught sight of the girl's sour expression. Now Audra wanted to apologise for her success.
Pamela wasn't Penny. She was just as capable a cleaner as herself, Audra knew, and if she had another job to go to, she'd happily leave the place to Pamela. Pamela's family lived in one of the small communities between the resort and Broome, so this was more home to her than it would ever be for Audra.
"Sure. These ones are all full of papers, so we should get one of the porters to bring a trolley to deal with them. Too heavy for us."
"I'll go get one," Pamela offered.
Audra nodded and took Pamela's place by the stack of boxes. Beneath the box full of balls was a much smaller one, which explained why the ball-box had overbalanced so easily. Stupid way to stack boxes, really, she thought as she lifted the little one. It was sealed with packing tape and addressed to...her. Well, Audra from Housekeeping, which was close enough. Not the conference people at all. It must have come on the boat with all the conference gear and accidentally gotten lost amid all the other stuff. The conference people probably hadn't even noticed.
It couldn't be from her family. They'd have used her full name and they'd have put a return address, even if they had sent something. This didn't have any postage marks or even a postcode on it. She pulled her multi-tool out of her pocket and selected a blade. Audra made short work of the tape holding it shut, but then she paused. Who'd sent her something?
She'd never know unless she looked inside the box. Swallowing, Audra flipped aside the box flaps to reveal a shapeless package shrouded in bubble wrap. Her hands shook as she cut the tape this time. There was a folded sheet of paper in the modern mummy wrappings, which had to hold the answers she sought. She focussed on that, trying to ignore the box with it until she knew more. Finally, she freed the paper and unfolded it with trembling fingers. It was a receipt from the electronics store in town. A receipt for the expensive DSLR camera she'd ogled in the window but known she'd never be able to afford. That meant in the box was...she swallowed and unwrapped it. Oh, it was the camera, all right. Twin lens kit, memory cards and all. She'd wanted a decent camera since studying photography at high school, but she'd never been able to afford it. Shit, she still couldn't afford this. It was worth as much as her car. If she'd doubted that, she had the receipt in front of her to confirm it. A receipt dated the previous week, the day she'd submitted her job application.
Only one person could have bought this. Jay.
Audra didn't deserve gifts from him. Not after what she'd done.
If she couldn't return the money, at least she could give this back to him. Numbly, she wrapped the coveted camera back in its bubbly shroud and entombed it in the box. She rose and marched out of the building, forcing herself to take the path to Villa Maxima. At least it was Maxima and not Pinctada. She wasn't sure she could bring herself to set foot inside Pinctada after her hurried departure last time. Once again, she thanked whatever powers that be that had allowed Jackie to return and care for the VIPs like she couldn't any more.
For a moment, Audra hesitated at the villa door, but she knew she couldn't keep the camera. Resolutely, she swiped her ID. The display beeped an error:
UNAUTHORISED.
GUEST NOT PRESENT.
CONTACT RECEPTION.
Someone had revoked her access to the villas. Probably a good thing. And if Jay wasn't home, she wouldn't have to face him. Setting the box carefully on the doormat, Audra turned and bolted back to the function centre, hoping Pamela hadn't missed her yet.
FIFTY-FIVE
Audra beat Pamela and the porter to the seminar room by less than a minute, she figured, glancing at her wristband as the porter loaded the boxes onto his trolley. No one need ever know about the camera or her unscheduled excursion to the villas.
She worked in silence for most of the day, turning the function rooms from a shambles into the uncluttered spaces they normally were. Good thing they'd dealt with the guests' rooms the previous day, because it was dinnertime before she cleared away the last load of boxes.
Serge was waiting for her outside the staff dining room, carrying a familiar package in his arms. "Looks like you've really impressed the VIPs, Audra. Jackie said this was yours."
Reluctantly, Audra took the box.
"She said he wouldn't use any packing tape, either. VIPs have their own strange ideas. I mean, who'd close a box with half the first aid kit?" Serge laughed.
She glanced down and realised that he was right. Jay had sealed it with some of the adhesive dressings from the hospital, then used a red marker to scrawl her name across them. The letters bled into the gauze, making it look gorier than it truly was. She wondered if even the illusion of bloodstained bandages had made Jay dizzy. Audra dropped the box on a table, and returned to sit beside it when she'd loaded her plate.
Serge slid into the seat beside her. "So what's in it?"
Something she didn't deserve, Audra thought but didn't say.
Jackie appeared beside the table, a look of grim determination on her face. "I'm under orders to make sure you don't try to return it. He said he'd pay for some of my son's flying lessons if I agreed. Don't you mess this up for me. Now, open it. We're all dying to know what it is."
One of the chefs appeared with a box cutter that she handed to Audra with a flourish. Now she was attracting a crowd – every staff member in the room was staring at her.
"All right." She sliced through the dressings and peered into the box. The folded receipt was on top, now with a message scrawled on the back:
Audra
Thanks for not letting me die.
Jay
She pulled out the well-wrapped camera and almost snorted as she realised he'd imprisoned two mango beers in the bubble wrap, bracketing the camera.
"If you try and take it back, I'll sit on you," Jackie announced. "Flying lessons don't come cheap."
Laughter surrounded Audra on all sides. She knew she was beaten. If only for Jackie and her son, she'd be forced to keep this outrageously expensive gift.
More than ever, she needed to find the money and return it to Jay. If she didn't, she'd have to take it out of her savings. No, she couldn't do that, but she did have to tell him. He deserved to know the truth.
Serge reached over her and snagged the beer. "I'll put them in the fridge for later, if you like. I'm up for tonight, if you are." He winked.
More laughter erupted, but it wasn't as loud as before, because people started to drift away, returning to their dinner and whatever had occupied their attention before. Uneasily, she wolfed down her food so she could leave and stash the camera away where she wouldn't have to look at it any more. Damn Jay for finding a way to make her feel worse.
As she scraped the last forkful of lettuce into her mouth, Serge snatched her plate and carried it to the washing-up racks. "Time for that interrogation," he said when he returned, rubbing his hands together.
Half an hour later, clutching a printout from the gym office computer, Serge walked beside her on the path to the Penguin jetty. "It's the only place on the island where we definitely won't have anyone listening," he insisted and Audra knew he was right. After all, they'd been sitting on the Penguin jetty when he'd told her his big secret and, to the best of her knowledge, no one else knew it. Shit, even Jay had thought she had a relationship with the personal trainer. As if any woman could tempt a man who preferred men.
She found her gaze drawn to the w
indows of Maxima as they walked past. Jay sat on the sofa with what looked like a bottle of bourbon in his hand, or something amber, anyway. Audra swore she'd take her room apart to find the money on her day off. It had to be there.
"You like him, don't you?"
Audra met Serge's eyes and then dropped her gaze. "Maybe," she said finally.
"He's a good-looking bloke, Jay Felix. Just my type, if I was his."
Audra sighed. "I wish he was, Serge. But he's a boobs man – or tits, as he calls them. He's made it abundantly clear that he's definitely into women and not men."
"I bet he is. Don't let them rule your life, Audra."
She stared at him. "What? My boobs?"
Serge burst out laughing. "Those, too, but I meant the hotel management. He's no better than you are. In fact, he probably has no idea that behind those boobs is an amazing woman he has no hope of winning. You and your new camera will be winging their way to paradise and a new job soon enough, and he'll have missed out."
"You're the only one who's even guessed. Most people think you and I are an item. Please, don't say anything."
"Keep my mouth shut for three more days? Sure. Well, unless Jay Felix's super-sexy gay doppelganger visits the island. Then you're on your own."
Audra nodded. "That's fair."
He wrapped a hand around her arm. "I mean it, though. The day you quit, go up to his house and ask him to have a drink with you."
Audra tugged her arm free. "I can't. I...just can't. Please, can we talk about something else?"
Serge pointed at the jetty that extended past Villa Penguin. "Get on that jetty, woman, and we can start the interrogation."
FIFTY-SIX
"What do you think is the biggest disadvantage of working at an isolated location?" Serge demanded.
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