Still Image

by Allie Parker

  ‘Well, I’d be getting your electrician’s opinion on that, not just taking the word of the person who installed it.’ Avery pushed her empty plate aside and picked up her glass of wine, settling back into her chair.

  Flynn topped up both of their glasses thoughtfully. ‘I might just text him now and see if he can drop in first thing.’ Flynn frowned at his phone with deep creases between his eyebrows as he quickly typed out a text and sent it off. He smiled at Avery as he looked up to find her watching him over her glass. ‘Your different perspective is refreshing, Avery.’

  Avery didn’t know if it was his compliment or the way he said her name that made her chest swell. ‘You can’t expect to solve the world’s problems single-handedly now can you?’

  Flynn lent forward in his seat. ‘You know what does help sometimes?’

  The cheeky smirk on Flynn’s face made Avery’s pulse skip. She watched him drain his glass and jump up out of his seat. He went to the small set of drawers beside his bed and switched on the bedside lamp. She was just speculating what exactly he had in mind when he came back to the table and took the top off a bottle of Glenlivet single malt. She definitely needed a stiff drink after the thought that had just raced though her mind. She too emptied her glass and set it on the table next to Flynn’s as he got a handful of ice cubes from the small fridge, placed the ice in the two glasses and poured the luxurious amber liquid over them.

  Flynn tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him that he wouldn’t be firing on all cylinders in the morning with that much alcohol in his system. On-time on-budget, it was saying to him as he gulped his first mouthful. He pushed the thought out of the way by putting on some music.

  Soon they were talking animatedly about the rest of the creative crew. Avery told Flynn about Simon’s website hacker and Byron’s efforts to bring Meg out of her shell. Flynn asked Avery if there wasn’t more to Meg’s quiet nature than meets the eye. Without going into detail, Avery said that Meg had gone through a life altering event that had stripped her of her confidence and trust in others. Without meaning to, Avery opened up to Flynn about what it was like supporting Meg single handedly over the past year.

  ‘I don’t want this to sound mean, because I don’t begrudge Meg for it, but it’s hard spending so much time with someone when it’s such an effort to pick them up all the time. Until recently, Meg wouldn’t take any of my advice onboard. She’d just mope about and bring me down too.’ Avery gasped at her last sentence. ‘That’s a very selfish thing for me to say, I didn’t mean that.’ She blushed furiously.

  ‘But it’s the truth.’ Flynn had slumped down in his chair, legs out stretched and crossed at the ankles, his glass resting on his thigh as he caressed the rim. ‘It’s a fact that a person’s mood rubs off on those around them. It’s not a selfish thing to say when it’s just a fact. I’m sure Meg was there for you when you needed her.’ Flynn referenced the earlier part of their evening about Avery’s loss. ‘And I bet you didn’t make her feel like doing cartwheels either. It’s just what friends do for each other, be there to listen and share the burden.’ Flynn smiled at Avery’s rosy cheeks.

  With the nice alcohol induced buzz, Flynn studied Avery’s hair as it cascaded down her shoulders. He noticed, not for the first time, the colourful paint smudges around her fingernails at the end of her slender fingers now wrapped around her glass. He might have considered kissing those pretty fingers if it wasn’t a special day for her. A sacred day that he would not betray by confusing her with his desires.

  ‘Well aren’t you a wise man, Flynn. Thank you for not thinking less of me.’

  Flynn excused himself to use the bathroom. He pulled himself together, splashing water on his face to stop thoughts of what Avery’s hands would feel like on his chest and in his hair. When he came out of the bathroom she was gone. After a moment of panic, he noticed her glass and the bottle of whisky were missing, and then he heard her footsteps in the hallway outside his room. He grabbed his glass, turned up the music and went to investigate. He found her sitting with her back against the wall opposite the mural not far from his room. Flynn approached quietly and she patted the carpet next to her, not taking her eyes off the painting.

  When Flynn sat next to her, Avery shuffled closer and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt him tense next to her and then slowly relax again. They sat for a few minutes, with the soft music from Flynn’s room in the background, sipping their whisky.

  ‘I wish I could paint these murals forever.’ Avery let out a sigh. ‘It’s so much more satisfying than painting a canvas that’s destined to sit on a boring wall of an office or hotel. Knowing who will be getting joy from these paintings is extremely humbling and rewarding.’ She looked up at Flynn when he didn’t say anything.

  ‘Seeing these are the highlight of my day, Avery, I can only imagine what they are going to do for the sick and the lonely,’ Flynn said softly, looking down into Avery’s eyes.

  Moved by his words, Avery reached up the short distance, closing the gap between them and brushed Flynn’s mouth softly with her own.

  Without thinking, Flynn set down his glass and placed his hand gently on the back of Avery’s neck. He could taste the whisky on her lips, different to his own as it mingled with the taste of her. He sucked ever so slightly on her bottom lip and was rewarded when she placed a hand against his chest.

  They were completely in the moment. Frozen in time, sitting on the floor, slowly discovering each other’s intimate intricacies with nothing but their lips. Both too afraid to move further but too courageous stop.

  When they finally pulled back, Flynn wrapped his arm around Avery’s back, pulling her close against his chest, with an indescribable need to keep her safe and warm.

  Avery closed her eyes and let Flynn’s warmth and heartbeat sooth her own racing pulse. Before she could stop herself, Avery floated off to sleep. Motionless in Flynn’s strong, protective arms.

  Flynn leaned his head against the wall and sat with Avery in his arms until he could feel his joints stiffen and worried that Avery would wake with a crick in her neck. Gently he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his room. The music had long since finished and the reading lamp by his bed cast a soft glow over the small space he called home. Lightly Flynn laid Avery onto his bed and levered off her shoes. She curled herself up undisturbed and he bought the covers up over her, tucking her in. Only then did he lie next to her, on top of the bedspread, facing her. She looked so peaceful that he too felt himself slip off, even though he didn’t want to close his eyes, he drifted into a shallow dreamless sleep. Every now and then Flynn would rouse, open his eyes to make sure Avery was still there, and then drift back into happy bliss. He could smell her hair on his pillow, hear her light breathing and feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Flynn couldn’t remember ever being so calm and peaceful in his life.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Meg was taking advantage of the weather, gathering some stock shots of rolling atmospheric clouds. She had just parked in a quiet, secluded car park near a beach and was checking her equipment when suddenly the passenger door opened and Patrick Heathcliff got in the car beside her. Meg’s heart stopped for a moment, stunned at seeing him after so long. As they sat staring at each other, Meg’s first reaction was a crushing mix of confusion and anger. Her heart swelled, like she was seeing the ghost of a loved one. Her eyes filled with tears as emotion threatened to consume her.

  As Patrick reached out and brushed a tear off her cheek, Meg’s brain kicked in. ‘What are you doing here,’ she whispered, not letting another tear fall.

  ‘I need you to know that it wasn’t all a lie, Meg.’

  ‘I will never forgive you for what you have done to me.’ Her chest heaved as she tried desperately to control her breathing.

  ‘I know that. And I know you’ve moved on now anyway, I always liked Cassidy Designs.’ Meg suddenly went cold. ‘I need to know what you’ve told the police.’ Patrick got to the poi
nt of his visit, his voice cold without a hint of emotion.

  ‘I don’t know anything, so how could I tell them anything.’ Keeping her eyes on him, she suppressed a shudder and clenched her teeth.

  ‘Good girl.’ Patrick brushed Meg’s hair back off her face in an all too familiar gesture.

  She mustered every bit of courage she owned. ‘You left me with nothing. After a lifetime of working hard, you left me humiliated and with five hundred dollars in the bank.’

  ‘You have the house; I didn’t remortgage it like I could have. Anyway, hasn’t the insurance money come through yet?’

  ‘They say there is nothing to prove I didn’t remove the money myself.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous, even after the police investigation,’ he scoffed.

  ‘Patrick, the police investigation is still ongoing.’ Meg watched something flicker across his face and then a barrier came up.

  ‘I wish I could say I didn’t set out to hurt you,’ he said.

  Meg sat in silence. After rehearsing so many times what she would say to him if she ever saw Patrick again, she realised she was already moving on.

  She didn’t need his apology.

  She didn’t need his sympathy.

  She didn’t want his love.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Patrick opened the car door. He paused for a moment, looking into Meg’s eyes one last time then got out.

  ‘Then he was gone, just like that.’ Meg was still shaking as she relayed the brief encounter to Byron and Simon. She had driven straight to their studio.

  ‘He knew I’d spoken to the police. He knew about us.’ She gestured to Byron. ‘I think he’s been watching me.’ Meg realised with a jolt. ‘I thought I’d just been imagining his profile and laugh in crowds of people, you know, like you do when someone’s on your mind a lot. But maybe he really was there.’

  ‘It’s ok, you’re safe here.’ Byron could see Meg struggling to remain calm. He wanted so desperately to hold her and comfort her but he didn’t know what she wanted from them, what she needed from him.

  ‘Have you called the police,’ Simon asked gently. ‘The investigation is ongoing and they’d be interested to know he’s still nearby.’

  ‘Not yet, I wanted to do it here.’

  Ten minutes later when Meg was hanging up the phone, Grace came through the studio door. ‘Good, you’re all here. I’ve got news.’ She stopped after one look at Meg’s pale face. ‘What’s happened?’ She stepped over Byron’s legs and sat on the coffee table in front of Meg, knee to knee. Meg’s chin trembled and Grace threw her arms around her and pulled her close.

  Byron rubbed Meg’s back and frantically racked his brain for something constructive to do to help. ‘Patrick Heathcliff paid Meg a visit this afternoon.’

  Grace pulled back, keeping her hands firmly on Meg’s shoulders. ‘Did he hurt you?’ She searched Meg for any signs of harm.

  ‘Just a little shaken up,’ Simon answered as Meg shook her head.

  Meg took Grace through their conversation and pulled herself together, as if gathering strength from Grace’s confidence and poise.

  ‘The police said they believe Patrick knows they’re close to nailing him, if only they can find him, and that he’d be getting desperate. Apparently it’s common for white collar criminals to turn violent if they panic under the pressure of being caught by the police or by his associates who would be desperate to cut all affiliation with him before he’s caught.’

  ‘Well, I think you should stay at Byron’s place until we figure this out.’

  Meg was touched at Grace’s use of the word we. They were becoming a unit, all of them, and not just professionally.

  Byron could have kissed his sister. Having Meg at his house, Byron could take care of her day and night, keeping her safe. The thought of Heathcliff following Meg and watching them was making his blood boil.

  A short time later, Avery arrived at the studio and picked up Meg to take her to the police station to lodge a written statement. Once they left for the station, Byron broke the silence. ‘For fuck’s sake, if that bastard has been following her all this time, I’ll ... I don’t know, something!’

  Simon felt a twinge of solidarity with his brother. Byron was talking the same way Simon felt about Bella all these years. ‘You’ll keep her safe, By, she’ll be ok.’

  ‘I think we may have more than just Meg to worry about.’ Grace sat back on the couch after she had both her brother’s full attention. ‘Further examination into the threatening email we received about the Madden project has proven that the former design firm is not to blame.’

  ‘I can’t think of that right now, Grace.’ Byron ran his hands through his hair.

  ‘I think what Grace is getting at is that maybe Heathcliff is involved with this as well.’ Simon’s mind was racing to make the connection.

  ‘That’s what I came around here to talk to you about. With Nigel’s warning phone call and the email, and now Meg says that Patrick knew about her working with Cassidy Designs and probably your relationship as well. Maybe he’s striking out at us to get at Meg,’ Grace offered.

  ‘But what does he have to gain? He’s humiliated her, wiped out her bank balance. All he wanted to know today was what she’d told the police.’

  ‘And maybe he wanted us to know the fact that he’s still around and can connect with Meg whenever he wants. I think we all had assumed he would be long gone by now.’ Grace contemplated that thought. ‘Moving onto his next target.’

  ‘What does that have to do with us,’ Simon asked his sister.

  ‘He’s a man driven by money. Why would the email say we’ve crossed a line and need to pay?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Simon glanced at Byron. ‘But he’s been in hiding for almost a year and could probably do with some more cash.’

  ‘All we can do is wait until he shows his next card or makes a demand.’

  ‘In the meantime, Meg didn’t bork at the idea of staying with you,’ Grace said to Byron. ‘We’ll know if her tries to contact her again.’

  ‘We won’t mention this to her, By, she has enough going on without thinking about how it will affect us and the job,’ Simon added.

  Byron was barely taking in the conversation happening around him. His ears were ringing and he couldn’t stop jiggling his knee. He was mentally assessing the security of the studio and his home. He would escort Meg to her house to pick up whatever she needed. He would take the opportunity to walk through and have a look for any signs of vulnerability or forced entry that Meg might not have noticed. That’s if she’d changed the locks when Heathcliff left. Maybe he could ask Flynn to have a look at installing some sort of security system or at least a few decent locks.

  Avery stood as Meg came out of the interview room and watched as her friend grimly finished with the police officer and turned to her. Meg briefly relayed the interview then sat quietly in the passenger seat of Avery’s car. After a few minutes of silence passed, Avery said, ‘Simon messaged me while you were in with the police. He said everyone is around at Byron’s place for dinner.’

  Meg couldn’t think of anything worse right now than a happy-family gathering. ‘I just want to curl up in front of the TV and veg-out.’

  Avery didn’t say that she was under strict instructions to deliver Meg back to Byron’s house and not to drop her home under any circumstances. ‘I picked up a few things from your house.’ Avery nodded to the bag on the back seat. ‘Plus I think it would be good to accept Byron’s hospitality for awhile.’

  ‘I don’t want to put him out.’

  ‘You really think Byron would be put out by you staying over?’ Avery raised a cheeky eyebrow. She didn’t want to put the hard love on Meg but she would if she tried to protest. The Cassidy’s had really taken Meg under their wing, not just Byron but Simon and Grace too. Meg needed a family right now and the Cassidy’s were willing to give her the love and support she needed. If Avery was honest with herself, she would admit that it w
as nice to have people to share the weight of Meg’s melancholy. Even though Meg seemed better lately, Avery didn’t know how she was going to come back again from this latest setback.

  Meg just smiled at Avery’s cheeky remark, she didn’t have the energy to argue and she didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter. However, after an hour at Byron’s house, Meg was so warm and relaxed she didn’t mind the friendly banter going on around her or the home cooked meal. They all sat at the kitchen table talking animatedly about Simon and Byron’s university shenanigans. A safe subject, Meg knew they were trying hard to keep things light for her sake and she was grateful for their thoughtfulness. Boof was also a great comfort, sleeping on Meg’s feet under the table.

  Byron’s kitchen was a large room at the back of his house with a respectable sized sunroom slash informal dining area attached. Byron and Grace did most of the cooking, using the posh stainless steel appliances and huge floating chopping block. Simon made sure everyone had a drink at all times to go with the rich lasagne, crisp salad and crusty garlic sourdough. Avery stayed close to Meg and made sure she was coping with the impromptu social occasion. She marvelled at how far Meg had come back from her reclusiveness and made a mental note to thank Byron for his persistence and gentle persuasion all those months ago. Meg obviously felt very comfortable with this new family and the Cassidy’s had certainly welcomed her with open hearts.

  After dinner, Grace clucked around like a mother hen and Meg remembered their first conversation, when they had met at the Cassidy Designs cocktail party. Grace had mentioned getting over her anxiety and moving passed obstacles in her life. ‘Thank you for a gorgeous dinner.’ Meg picked up a tea towel to help Grace with the washing up. ‘Do you ever get sick of fixing everyone,’ Meg asked kind heartedly.