by Sasha Wasley
Free spied what appeared to be a brand-new pair of thongs in the back. ‘Here.’ She reached in and grabbed them for him. ‘You can break them in for Briggsy, save your sneakers.’
He nodded and changed footwear, leaving her beside the car while he waded out into the knee-high water. What a view, she thought, scanning the red-brown mud and the flat sheets of rock surrounding the tumbling water, beneath the glare of an overcast sky. The sun broke through for a few moments, making the water sparkle so sharply it hurt her eyes. Free shifted her admiration to Finn’s broad shoulders and tight bum as he pulled off his sunglasses and bent over to peer into the water. Ohhhh, my goodness.
She couldn’t wait to swim with him.
‘All seem okay?’ she asked as he returned to the car and climbed back in.
‘Yes, looks nice and simple.’
He adjusted some settings in the vehicle and they moved steadily through the creek. Free gave him a little cheer when they bumped up the other side and Finn couldn’t conceal a smile. It wasn’t far to Talbot Gorge from that point, and within minutes they’d reached the vacant parking area perched at the top of the gorge.
‘No-one else here today,’ Free said as they climbed out of the vehicle.
‘We should have organised a group,’ he said.
Inside her head, Free disagreed. ‘It’s been a while, but I think the trail into the gorge starts over there.’ She pointed.
Finn was applying sunscreen. ‘That’s right. Just round that boab.’
He tossed her the bottle and she coated her face and other exposed bits before handing it back to him. He locked up Briggsy’s 4WD, and when he turned back towards Free, she saw a big white blob of sunscreen beside his nose. She reached up to wipe it off, smiling. He ducked away.
Free recoiled, pulling her hand back. ‘You’ve just got some sunscreen next to your nose.’ She turned away, pretending to inspect the low scrub and hiding her hurt in the process. Did she smell bad or something?
He’s not ready, she reminded herself.
They walked along the trail into the gorge in silence, Free carrying her backpack and Finn carrying his own drawstring-style pack. When they came to the section of rocks she was painting, Free stopped and snapped some photos. She tried to memorise the scene, stepping close to examine the rock walls: their outline and corrugations, the smooth burnished glow of the ore-rich red rock. Free touched it. It was warm under her hand, but not too hot since the sun was hiding behind cloud today.
She looked for Finn when she’d completed her investigation and found him seated nearby, watching her.
‘Shall we keep moving?’ she asked. ‘It’s stifling. I’m dying for a swim.’
Finn led the way, following a path flattened by countless other visitors. Together, they made the easy descent into the gorge, skipping quickly over sections of the trail where ants swarmed. The water looked a deep, mysterious green at the bottom and there were wild seasonal waterfalls gushing down the rocks. Thousands of litres of white water spilled over cliff faces, churning the darkness at the bottom into a bubble bath before fanning out into those inviting green pools. They stopped at the biggest pool and Free dropped her backpack in the shade, relieved.
‘I’m going straight in,’ she called above the waterfall’s noise, unbuttoning her shorts.
At first, Finn glanced her way but then turned resolutely to look at the waterfall. Huh. If he was that uncomfortable with seeing her legs, wait until she pulled off her T-shirt and he got a load of her white bikini.
But Finn wouldn’t even look her way. She splashed into the pool, exclaiming at the breathtaking thrill of coolness. The fury of the fall made a fine mist in the air above the waterhole. Free steered clear of the fall, paddling around the edge.
‘It’s so good!’ she cried. ‘It cools you right down, instantly!’
But when she checked on him, she discovered Finn sitting on a rock at the water’s edge, admiring the fall. His grey T-shirt was stuck to his chest, sweat visible down his front.
‘Can’t you swim?’ she called.
He finally looked her way. ‘Of course I can. You need your bronze to get into the academy.’
‘What are you doing, then? Get in!’
‘No, I might just . . .’
‘Finn, are you serious? It’s like, a million humid degrees out there.’
He only hesitated for a moment longer before he stood, kicked off his shoes and peeled off his T-shirt. Holy shamole! Free had to stop herself from gaping. His chest was all natural muscle definition and gleaming, tanned skin, with a hint of hair between his pecs and a smooth abdomen angling down into low-slung boardies . . .
He jumped in with a mighty splash and resurfaced in the centre of the pool. Then he made straight for the waterfall and dove underneath. For a couple of minutes, he was only visible in brief glimpses through the rushing torrent. At last he emerged, smiling.
‘Best I’ve felt all day,’ he called.
‘Getting into water is the only thing that truly cools you down up here.’ She hardly knew what she said, she was still so flummoxed by the sight of Finn in nothing but shorts.
‘You should go through the waterfall too,’ he replied, swimming around the pool aimlessly. ‘Feels amazing.’
He was still being cautious. He only glanced her way every so often, and stayed well out of her reach. She sighed inwardly.
‘No, I’ve been scared of waterfalls ever since I saw a giant lizard come down one,’ she said. ‘It almost crushed Willow.’
‘Holy crap! Okay, fair call. What was it? A Mertens’ water monitor?’
Free shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It was huge. Probably a Komodo dragon, or maybe a velociraptor.’
He chuckled, relaxing slightly. Free pulled herself up on the side of the pool and climbed onto a rock, preparing to jump in. Finn was doing that thing again. Looking at her, pretending not to look, looking again. In an instant, she lost all patience. Damn him. He would look. She would make him look. She stood on the rock, dripping from her white bikini, staring hard at Finn until he finally gave in and looked. Triumph surged along with heat into every nerve ending. There was Finn’s real face. His real feelings.
Deep, raw desire.
She did a shallow dive and emerged right in front of him, moving in close. Ignoring the pounding in her chest, Free trod water just inches from his face, her eyes locked on his. At this proximity, she could feel the water beneath the surface swirling around her bare skin from Finn’s movements. They were so close – almost touching. The friendly, pebbly warmth of his irises had gone dark – hungry – and for a moment, Free was certain he would reach for her.
He dropped his gaze to the water. ‘Free, please don’t. I really want to stay friends with you.’
What . . .?
It couldn’t have been more humiliating if he’d physically pushed her away. Tears sprang to Free’s eyes and she turned to swim the other way, clambering up onto the rocks. She reached for her towel. The rejection was as hard and real as a stubbed toe and her eyes were watering enough to prove it.
Finn climbed out and stopped near her on the rocks. She sensed him standing behind her, watching her.
‘Free —’
‘I’d like to go home,’ she said, holding her voice steady.
He was silent for a minute. ‘Okay.’
She pulled her clothes over her damp bikini and got back on the trail to the car park. The walk was good. It forced her to focus on where she was putting her feet instead of the mortification that was making her face burn and giving rise to a sick feeling in her gut. Her mind kept going back to the look on his face as he’d gazed up at her standing on the edge of the pool. The fierce buzz of heat between them when she came close. Hadn’t she seen desire? Longing? How could she have mistaken that look in his eyes? Free yanked her thoughts back. She’d thought Finn was someone she understood, but she’d misread him, so badly.
She wasn’t intending to sit in sulky silence for the entire drive back
to the Mount Clair township, but Free didn’t trust her voice. In any case, her heart was so heavy, she could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t sound forced. Finn was quiet too. The only noise he made was an exclamation of surprise when a kangaroo jumped out onto the road in front of them. Luckily, he had time to brake, so the animal bounded safely off into the scrub.
When they got back to Briggsy’s house, the senior sergeant was watering pot plants on his front verandah. He waved, looking more cheerful than she’d expected. Free put on a smile.
‘You two weren’t gone long,’ he remarked as Finn approached to hand back the keys.
‘Bloody hot out there,’ Finn said, and it seemed to suffice as an explanation.
‘I bet. You coming in for a beer, Kelly?’
Finn checked Free’s face and she pulled her eyes away. ‘Yeah, why not?’ he said to his boss.
‘Free? Fancy a coldy?’
‘No, thanks, Briggsy.’ She collected her gear. ‘I’ve got a bit of work to do at home.’
‘Shame. Well, I’ll make sure this bloke gets a ride home later, one way or another.’
Free said goodbye and slunk to the sanctuary of her car to drive home alone. When she got there, although she attempted to work on her lessons for the week, that moment of Finn’s rejection kept surfacing. The humiliation hit fresh every time. Ugh, why’d she come on so bloody strong? What an idiot she’d been, practically throwing herself at him. And after the wedding, when she’d asked to go inside with him . . . The heat rose in her cheeks as she thought of it. She had not a scrap of dignity to call her own, she decided, giving up on work.
She checked the clock. Five-fifteen. Free went to the fridge for a bottle of wine and, when she had a healthy glassful in her hand, sat down with her phone and messaged Beth.
Hi Bethie.
Beth replied immediately. What’s up?
Nothing. What are you up to?
About to go for a jog. You okay?
Just had a crappy day. Free debated whether she should tell the truth. Would Beth judge her?
Why?
People are confusing.
Beth called. Free swiped to answer.
‘Tell me what happened,’ said Beth. ‘Who’s being a dick to my sister?’
That was all she needed. Free wouldn’t admit exactly who she was talking about but she indulged in a satisfying long diatribe about men who gave mixed signals, and thought it was fun to string girls along, and waited until a girl was practically begging for a kiss before announcing he wasn’t interested. She punctuated her unburdening with gulps of wine and handfuls of slightly stale chips she’d found in her pantry.
Beth made sympathetic noises. ‘Men!’
‘What sucks the most is that I want to hate him but I can’t. If I’m completely honest with myself, it’s me who screwed this up. He wasn’t responding the way I wanted so I kept pushing until he had to be brutally clear with me. Gah! I’m such a loser.’
‘Stop that,’ said Beth. ‘He’s the loser, not you.’
‘No, the poor guy just wanted a friendship and here I was trying to impress and seduce him. I don’t know.’ Free sighed. ‘I guess I’m not his type.’
‘Maybe we can find you a cattle farmer. They’re loyal as all hell and don’t know how to be duplicitous.’
‘No, thanks. No men for me for a while. I’ll be laying very low until this blows over. Hiding inside, curtains drawn all day long.’
Beth disappeared for a moment and Free heard voices. ‘Who’s that, Beth?’
‘It’s Carolyn, my running partner. She’s here for our jog.’
‘Okay, I’ll let you go.’ Free sagged on her chair, loneliness hitting again.
‘Do you feel better?’
‘Yes, thanks, Bethie,’ she lied.
Free farewelled her sister and sniffed, staring absently at the chip packet and the empty wineglass.
Time to paint.
Free’s plan was to avoid Finn and attempt to forget about the disaster that was their trip to Talbot Gorge. It seemed he had the same idea. She didn’t see him once. On Thursday it sounded like Finn was going to be home all day, so Free went to the school, even though it wasn’t her usual work day. She did lesson planning and marking, sitting at her laptop in the art department office. Aidan was teaching his after-school session as she prepared to go home, but before she could leave, he cornered her in the art office. He had his phone in his hand.
‘I’ve got a call from a corporate client,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It’s important that I take it. I don’t suppose you could look after the Year Tens for a few minutes?’
‘Of course,’ she said.
He stepped outside to take his call and she went in to sit with the Year Tens. They were copying notes off a screen, but chatting and fidgeting in their teacher’s absence. Free was startled to see he had them writing out his slide show. Was she supposed to do things like that? She mostly did practical work with her students.
‘Hi, guys,’ she said. ‘Mr Hamilton needs to take a call, so I’ll hang out with you while you do your work.’
‘Again?’ someone muttered. ‘He needs his phone surgically removed from his ear.’
There were a few giggles. It looked like she would have to refocus them on their work.
‘What are you learning about?’ she asked, reading through the slide.
‘Boring shit,’ a kid called.
‘No way!’ she exclaimed, comprehending the topic. ‘Expressionism rocks. What’s your favourite expressionist painting?’ she asked a girl at the front.
The girl shrugged. ‘We haven’t really looked at any art yet. We’re doing background stuff.’
Free sat down at the laptop connected to the projector. She minimised the slide show and opened a browser.
‘I’ll just show you a couple of pieces, if you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘Edvard Munch is my favourite. The Scream. You’d know it – it’s so famous. See? It’s like a mental breakdown moment. I always feel like I can hear death metal playing when I look at it.’
There was some laughter.
‘I like Dali,’ the girl at the front offered. ‘Melting clocks.’
‘Oh God, me too – but that’s surrealism.’ Free was hit with a brainwave. ‘Let me show you something. I found it on Youtube. It’s like a musical run-down of all the schools of art throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. It’s hilarious.’
She located the video and played it for the kids. Free loved the way their faces lit up with amusement as they watched. She’d almost forgotten about this video – she would have to play it for the Year Elevens too.
‘I totally get the difference between impressionism and expressionism now.’ The girl who said this sounded relieved. ‘That’s in the test next week, Ms Lincoln said.’
‘It’s just a bit of fun, but nice and memorable,’ Free agreed. ‘That guy’s done a whole series of silly art theory vids. Surprisingly useful. I could hear them singing in my head when I was doing exams at uni. I swear that’s the only reason I passed.’
‘My neighbour’s in your class,’ the girl at the front said. ‘Tia. She reckons you’re doing loads of art with the Year Elevens. Painting, clay, sketching. How come they don’t have to do any theory and we do?’
Free didn’t know how to answer. She thought she’d achieved a good balance between theory and practical work with her students but maybe Aidan had it right. Suspicion nagged at her. Could it be that Aidan had it wrong? Perhaps he was too focused on the theory component.
‘Ms Lincoln might be the person to ask about that,’ she said. ‘It might just be that the curriculum is quite different for Year Ten and Eleven – or perhaps Mr Hamilton wants to get the theory out the way first so he can focus more on the practical for Term Two.’
The girl still looked a little hard done by. Free explained some features of expressionist art and got them to try one of them on art paper. Before she knew it, one or two were packing up – it was four o’clock. She wa
ved the Year Tens off and tidied the classroom. At last, twenty minutes later, Aidan sauntered back in.
He grimaced. ‘Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. When someone who’s paying you ten grand for a sculpture wants to chat, you chat. Don’t tell Jay, will you?’ He winked. ‘I owe you one.’
What the hell? Free gritted her teeth.
‘No worries.’ She made a move to leave.
‘Don’t rush off,’ he said, coming to stand in front of her. ‘I was going to ask, do you know the Sawmill restaurant?’
‘Yeah, it’s good.’
‘Are you free to go for dinner with me?’
He did that thing again where his eyes dropped to her chest. Free’s skin crawled and she lifted her hand, outwardly to play with her big gemstone pendant but actually to hide her breasts from this perve.
‘I can’t really afford it,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty pricey.’
Aidan smiled. ‘My shout.’
‘Oh, thank you, but I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. Might have to take a raincheck.’ She gave him a vague smile.
He tipped his head. ‘How about on the weekend?’
She groaned inwardly. ‘Um, Aidan, I don’t think we should, you know, go on dates. It might be frowned upon by the school.’
‘Is that all you’re worried about?’ He touched her arm playfully and she stiffened. ‘There’s nothing in our contracts that says we can’t, you know, fraternise.’
He was looking at her with a sparkle in his eye, a slow smile spreading up his tight-skinned face. Suddenly, Free felt deeply unsettled. She stepped back.
‘I don’t think we share the same values,’ she blurted.
Aidan’s thin eyebrows knitted. ‘Values?’
‘Yes. I’m passionately opposed to the dam your family’s company is building. I respect you and I’m honoured to be working with a successful artist, but I’d like to keep things professional, please.’
The frown remained. Then, unexpectedly, Aidan laughed.
‘Maybe you’re right. I didn’t realise how strongly you felt. I’m not sure I want to be seen out to dinner with an eco-Nazi.’ He swept a gaze down over her again. ‘Pity. That cuteness is kinda wasted on you.’ He shot her a smile to show he was joking. She knew he wasn’t.