“HA! My brother would know. Can I come back and pick up the washing later?” My hands run down my shirt, and I check the hem to make sure I haven’t put it on inside out.
“But you haven’t had breakfast. Of course you can leave the washing here, I’ll hold it to ransom so you have to come back here. What time do you finish?” Reece fills a glass of water and peels a banana while I pull on my shoes, I don’t even bother with the laces. “I’ll grab something when I’m there.” Reece shakes his head and holds out both hands. I take a bite of the banana and grab the glass as he drops to his knees before me. I’m thinking he’s about to start begging when I feel the tug on my foot. He’s tying my laces. “I’ll be back at about four.” All of a sudden, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do I kiss him? Do I just walk out? I grab the keys from my handbag, and I’m about to head to the door when his arm shoots out and stops me.
“By my timing, you still have twenty-three more seconds. I think we can manage a good morning goodbye kiss.”
“Eighteen seconds now,” I say as I move my arm around his waist.
“No more talking then.” And his lips are on mine. He has a way of making time stand still. I start to melt at his touch and the second he pulls his lips from mine, I want to call in sick and return to the bed upstairs. But I know I can’t. Life can’t stop because I have a … I don’t even know what to call him. “So I’ll see you this afternoon. Ready for your driving lesson. Have a look at the road rules maybe today. You can get some more washing done. I believe in you.”
I leave him in the kitchen and close the front door behind me. I make it to my shift with one minute to spare.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
REECE
She’s right. Washing. That’s the priority. I’d already come up with a plan last night. After the driving lesson, I was going to bring her back here and cook her dinner. Her comment that her meal budget was spent on our first lunch together wasn’t lost on me. I was thinking something simple that I can manage, but has a lot of flair. I’d picked out a couple of recipes on Pinterest before I find the motivation to deal with the washing.
I’m not denying the clothes situation is in dire need of action. I scoop up as much as my arms can carry, and I take it down to the laundry room which is just off the kitchen. Aside from a few errant pieces that fell along the way, I still have a mighty pile to contend with.
I’ve mastered the dishwasher. The washing machine can be my next accomplishment. I reach for the door and pull it open. When Madelyn pointed out the instructions on the inside of the lid, I couldn’t help but feel like a right wanker.
Put your clothes into the machine to the line. Where’s the line? She didn’t show me the line. I waste a good few minutes looking for it before my teeth are grinding against each other. I can’t see a line. I scoop up the clothes and start filling the machine. I fill it 'til I can’t fit anything more in. Step two, add the detergent. Where’s the detergent? I pull open the cupboard under the sink. Nothing but a dustpan. So that’s where that is. Good to know. I pull open the tall cupboard and find the ironing board. No detergent. I stop and think about what she said when she had to use shampoo. I have shampoo, but I also have dishwashing tablets. “Bingo!” I spin on my heel and head to the kitchen, pull open the container and read the instructions as I take a handful of the tablets back to the laundry room. Add two scoops for heavily soiled clothing. Well, as much as they aren’t soiled, they are pretty rank so I add six little cubes for good measure. That’s just a suggestion anyway. Step three, select your setting. I just want to wash the clothes. Why so complicated? I lower the lid to look at the dials and press the ON button. The machine’s lights up and makes a musical tone as it comes to life. I press another button that says quick start. Water starts rushing into the machine, and I don’t resist the urge to give a fist pump. My first load of washing ever.
I thought I had reason to celebrate. I thought I’d nailed the instructions, but like the girl that tells you she’s a virgin to get you into bed and then promptly tells you afterwards that she’s had better, my hopes were brought crashing down. I sit waiting for my first load of washing to finish and when I open the lid, I’m met with grey clothes covered with white grains where the washing powder hasn’t dissolved and just stuck to the material. First lesson. Don’t overfill the washing machine. I take out half the load and dump it into the sink with a heavy thud. In the time that I’d waited for the machine, I’d hunted through each cupboard and found some proper washing detergent. This time, I add the prescribed two scoops and restart the machine again.
I make my way back into the kitchen and decide to unload the dishwasher. It’s when it’s empty that I came up with a brilliant plan.
An hour later, I’m taking my freshly washed undies and socks from the dish racks when the washing machine dings to tell me it’s done. I remove all the washing from the dishwasher and carry it to the dryer. Retracing my steps, I pick up a shirt and lay it out across the top rack of the dishwasher, load the tablet and with a quick press of the start button, it’s off and washing the next item.
Waking to the sound of knocking on the front door again. I check my phone and see that it’s only two hours after she left. I’m instantly conflicted. My heart starts to race for all the wrong reasons thinking I’ve been found out, but racing at the hope that Madelyn has changed her mind. I pull my freshly laundered shirt over my head, and I will admit, it’s really nice to feel clean. I keep my footsteps light as I approach the door.
“I know you’re in there,” a familiar voice calls out.
I pull the door open and see David standing on the landing. “Have to say, pretty impressed that I haven’t had any phone calls saying the place has burned down or that there’s a strange smell coming from within the walls.”
“Glad to see you had so much faith in me, David,” I laugh but the comment still stings while I step back and let him in.
“I have more faith in you than you have within yourself,” he said pulling the door out of my hand to close it. “How have you been? You are looking surprisingly refreshed. What’s this? Clean clothes? Don’t tell me you had your one-nighter do your washing before you left.” It doesn’t go unnoticed that I see him scanning around the room to look for anything to indicate that I’ve trashed the joint.
“Shut up. I did it myself, and there haven’t been any nighters since I got here.”
Well, technically she’s not. We didn’t do anything that puts her in the league of one-nighter, and now I’m bummed that it wasn’t Madelyn at the door.
“So what’s up with the personalized visit? Have you got some news for me?” Before I’ve even finish my sentence, David’s shaking his head.
“I had a day owing to me, so I came out here to check on you.” He maintains my stare as I’m waiting for him to finish his sentence and reveal the truth. “And to check on my house.” There it is. “Have to say, pretty impressed. I’ve seen some of the states you’ve left your places in, and I’ll admit. I was worried. Part of me thought it was going to be filled with holes, and then the other part of me thought it was going to have to be condemned due to you not picking up after yourself.”
“Ye of little faith. Coffee?”
“Wow. You make coffee?”
Giving him the finger as my answer, I make my way to the kitchen and while I wait for the kettle to boil, I take out two cups and place them on the bench before getting the milk out of the fridge. “How many sugars?”
“Just stop. I have to film this. Reece Ashton is domesticated. I can’t fucking believe it. “
“Shut up. I wash clothes too,” I say with a laugh.
It’s good to sit down with someone else in the house. The silence has been deafening, and I was about to start licking the grapes off the wallpaper for interaction when Madelyn hasn’t been here. I’ve tried to make sure that I didn’t come to rely on her presence. This is all new to me so I want to make sure I tread lightly. I hand him his coffee, even though thi
s is his house, I still gesture for him to move over to the lounge.
“There’s something different about you man, what’s going on? Can’t put my finger on it but there’s definitely something different about you.” He waits but quickly realises I’m not going to fill him in. “So I’ve been thinking,” he starts.
I cut in, “Oh this ought to be good. You thinking?”
“Yes, you are currently without a label. I have been trying to push the company to re-sign you, you are taking too long with getting the material sorted. I know mine’s keen to re-sign you, but you have to show us some goods. I have a plan. I have been in the process of making my own label. Have you been writing? Anything coming out of that head of yours? And that had better be chocolate on my lounge.”
I didn’t want to come clean just yet to him that I have been writing as they are a bit of a redirection on the stuff I normally wrote with Sean. I shake my head, and he sits down on the single seat. “I haven’t. I have been trying to get my head around the situation, I keep going over and over conversations, looks, even lyrics to try and get a clue about Sean.”
“Look, I’m saying this as a friend. You have to just accept the here and the now. That’s what you are in control of. Yes, he screwed you over. Yes, he’s left you in the lurch. You’re letting something that happened to you define you, and that’s not a healthy headspace to be in. It’s called victim mentality. Yes, it’s happened. But you have the power to change what you do from here. You are an incredibly talented artist. I bought you a guitar and some recording stuff. It’s not the latest, but it will get you going to get something down.”
I nod my head slowly. “You’re right. I can do this. I was thinking of maybe doing a media release to let the fans know I’m okay.”
David takes a sip and looks into the coffee cup. “This is really good. Better than my secretary makes.”
“That’s because I didn’t spit in yours.”
David’s throaty laugh echoes off the walls. “Speaking of which, are you getting any tail in this town? I’d be thinking prospects are low.”
“I haven’t been outside in the daylight much, I don’t want to risk it, and that cuts down my prospects dramatically.”
“Ah, no wonder you haven’t been writing, you’ve got wankers cramp.”
We both laugh after I tell him to fuck off, and it’s good to laugh. It’s refreshing to feel a smile on my face.
I make a move to stand, and he reaches out to take the coffee mug for him. “So where’s this equipment?”
“It’s in the car, and as I’m not a recording artist, I obviously don’t have a studio, but it’s just to get something down. You know how authors are always saying ‘can’t edit a blank page’, well, this is the same. Can’t record a hit song with silence. Just get something down.” I’m still on the lounge when he yells out “What the fuck?” Why does everyone in this house yell that out?
“What?”
Rounding the corner, he’s putting the coffee cups on the sink and lowering the door of the dishwasher down with his foot. He gently takes hold of my shirt from the top tray with his fingertips. Dammit. I forgot about that one.
“You do know there’s a perfectly good washing machine in there?”
I reach forward and snatch the shirt from him. “Yes, that I haven’t learned how to use yet.”
David throws his head back and laughs at me again. “Oh, Reece, man. Washing clothes in the dishwasher. Classic. Surprised you didn’t think to just wear them in the shower and wash them down that way.” Yeah. I’m surprised to actually, and that would have worked better. “Oh God. I was joking, Reece. You are seriously thinking about it. Come on. I’ll show you how it works.”
Within an hours’ time, I’ve been shown how to use the washing machine for the second time, told to run a cycle through the dishwasher before I put crockery back in it and have a makeshift studio set up in the front room.
“Why’s the lounger pushed all the way over there?”
I wince at the thought of the pain in my toe again because of that damned lounge. “Had to go. Was trying out yoga.”
“You? Yoga? The only positions you like to get into that make you bend is when there’s a girl or three involved.”
I don’t know why, his constant comments about my womanising ways is really starting to get under my skin. “You know, there’s more to me than just screwing women.”
Staring at him, he nods his head. “There is. I’ve been waiting for you to see it. Been waiting for you to learn that about yourself. Now that you know it do something with it. Show the rest of the world what Reece Ashton is known for. I’ll be ready and waiting for your solo work.”
“You’re not going to stay?”
Shaking his head. “Nah. Have to be back in the city to try and score a deal with this new band. Industry people are saying they are going to the hottest band since …” He didn’t need to finish his sentence for me to know who he was referring to. The pained look on his face shows me that he didn’t realise what he was going to say until it was too late. “Hey sorry, Reece.”
“It’s okay.” My head shakes a little to lessen the sting of his words.
“No, it’s not. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not and I don’t want to leave it like that.”
“They might be the next best thing. They might be better. Who knows, maybe I can mentor them?” I don’t know why those words flew out of my mouth, I wasn’t even thinking about that.
David claps his hands together. “Perfect! That’s exactly what you can do. You can give guidance and mentor these kids.”
The urgent sense of panic seizes me around my throat, and I can’t breathe. All I can do is shake my head. “No. I didn’t mean that. I don’t know how to guide someone. Jesus – you found my clothes in the dishwasher. I can’t guide anyone.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Clothes you might not need to know but music? Music, you know.” I’m still shaking my head as he pats me on the back. “Think about it. Meantime, email me your recordings. You have got an email setup haven’t you?”
“I’ll get you something by the end of the week,” I say trying not to commit, but again the words just fly out of my mouth without my brain engaging. “See what you think.”
The knock at the door makes us both turn towards it.
“Guests?” David asks. “Want me to deal with it?”
The only person that has been coming here is Madelyn, and I’m actually nervous about seeing her again. Couple that with her meeting David, I’m now freaking out. Since I didn’t give him an answer, David makes his way to the door. My feet feel like they are dragging through wet cement to get there and he’s opened it up wide. Her gorgeous face is smiling, but it falters and falls when her glance from me lingers on David’s face for just that half second too long.
“Hi, oh,” Madelyn says as she lowers a small paper bag. I can already tell it’s a bag of lollies. “Oh.” Is all she says as she catches another look at David and her face instantly lowers. She mumbles, “I’ll come back later.” While David calls out a ‘no’ at the same time as me, she’s already turned on her heel and heading for the fence line. What the hell happened there? I’m pushing past David and heading after her. “Madelyn?” David calls out my name, I don’t bother to look back at him. Another two steps and she’s going to be in her car. “Madelyn.”
“I’ll call you later to make a time to catch up, Reece,” she calls over her shoulder and jumps into her shit heap death trap. I’m at her window as she gives me a pained look and waves me off. All I do is stand there and watch her drive away. What the fuck was that about?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
MADELYN
Fucking great. I suck in a ragged breath, but it doesn’t feel like it’s even hitting my lungs. David Steel of all fucking people to see me. That man is a snake in the grass. Best friends with Arsehole. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. All the techniques I’d been taught t
o bring anxiety and panic attacks under control are out of the window. My hands are shaking, I feel like I can’t get a breath to go past my throat, and I’m struggling to hold back the tears. I was half expecting James to walk out with them. I pull up out the front of my house and take a moment to collect myself. My ears feel blocked, and I can hear a muffled ringtone from my phone that hasn’t stopped ringing or making the message sound. I glance down at the screen and see they are all from Reece.
The next message pushed the last one down.
I’m coming over.
After five attempts, I flick the screen open with my thumb and start my reply.
You don’t even know where I live. We’ll have to rain check the driving lesson to when you don’t have visitors.
Before I can even lock my phone, it chimed again.
David said he knows you. I’ve asked him not to tell me anymore. I want to hear it from you. I promised you.
My eyes start to go fuzzy as tears threaten to fall. The bile starts to rise, and my hands shake so violently that I have to make a fist around my phone for fear of dropping it. I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach as I double over and let the vomit hit the road. I turn my phone off completely when it chimes and chimes and chimes. Each message tolling like a bell tower of doom. I don’t dare look at them for fear that David might have told Reece about me and my past.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and get back in my car. Head to Trent. He will know what to do. I turn the key in the ignition and nothing. I try again. Nothing. Not even a grumble. No, no, no, no, no. I need to get out of here now. I can’t call Trent to come and get me. I look around as I try the key again.
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