Sorry We're Closed

by Annie Seaton

  Greg shrugged. ‘Sounds crazy, but I don’t know. Just somewhere else.’

  ‘Like I did,’ Ginny muttered half beneath her breath. She lifted her head again and this time he let his eyes hold hers without looking away. ‘So what’s your goal?’ she asked.

  ‘My goal? I guess I really don’t have one.’

  ‘Well, Greg, for someone who works with plans and makes things beautiful, that is really stupid.’

  Stupid? Greg frowned. The idea of making enough money and leaving Sydney behind had been with him for a long time.

  Ever since the accident. No thought of where he was going, or what he was going to do with his life. When he’d put it into words he realised it was exactly like he’d described it to Ginny. Not only did it sound crazy, his plan—or lack thereof— was crazy.

  He spoke slowly ‘Maybe it is. Maybe I should give it more thought.’

  ‘That sounds sensible. So where do you think you’ll go? This place where you’re going, to do you don’t know what.’ Her eyes still held his, and they were full of disbelief. He realised she was dead serious and horrified that he was intending to just leave.

  Greg shrugged again and watched, surprised when she pulled her legs from beneath her and crawled up the bed to sit beside him. She reached over and took his hands between hers. She looked intently in to his eyes, and he knew that she had done what he was planning, but Ginny had had a goal. As she gripped his hands, he sensed her inner strength. This woman, in her quirky clothes, had a backbone of steel. He could take a lesson in coping with life from her experience.

  ‘You really have to have a plan. Otherwise how will you know if you’re happy?’

  ‘You had a plan? When you left your old life and came to Sydney?’

  ‘I did.’ She nodded.

  ‘And that makes you happy?’

  This time the lip biting happened again before she answered. ‘Sort of, I guess. My plan is still only just being put into practice though, so I can’t do a real analysis yet.’

  ‘Do you ever do anything without planning?’ Greg looked down at their joined hands and rubbed his thumb along the back of her soft skin.

  She jumped and looked embarrassed that she was holding his hand, and tried to pull it away, but he held firm.

  ‘No. I’m not very brave.’ She looked at him intently.

  ‘I think you are a very strong woman.’

  ‘What do they say? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?’

  He laughed, but it held bitterness. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What about your business?’

  ‘I’ll close it down.’

  ‘Um, what will you do for money?’ She tipped her head to the side and damn if she didn’t nibble on that sexy lip again. ‘Sorry, that was rude of me. That’s one thing Gran taught me not to do. You should never talk about money.’

  He let go of one of her hands and waved dismissively. ‘Very different to my upbringing. Money was the most important thing in my household. That’s why I’m trying to get myself in a position where it’s not important.’ Greg suddenly realised how loose his future plans had been. He hadn’t been able to see past getting away from his father’s expectations. ‘I had a conversation earlier, about taking a holiday. Maybe that’s what I need to do first.’

  ‘Take off and bum on a beach somewhere where it doesn’t cost much to live?’ She let out a gentle sigh. ‘You know, that doesn’t sound too bad.’

  ‘Or too stupid?’

  ‘I’m sorry, that was rude of me. And judgmental. Being alone most of the time has made me more direct than perhaps I should be. I’m sorry. What you went through was tough. I can’t blame you for wanting a change of scene.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll act on your sage advice. A holiday first. A travel buddy would be good.’ Again, the banter was light and putting a smile on his face.

  ‘I’ll give it my due consideration.’ Another bright smile lifted those gorgeous lips and Greg looked away.

  Ginny pulled her hand out of his. ‘So tell me now about this house. Tell me what your big plans are.’

  The hours passed quickly, as Greg told Ginny more about himself than he’d ever shared with anyone. She was a good listener, and he could sense the empathy that she shared with him. It was a bit of a wake-up call for him. Here he was unsettled and dissatisfied with his life.

  He had a family—of sorts, and he had no money worries, plus he had a good mate in Johnno.

  A couple of times, she closed her eyes and he’d wondered if his talking had put her to sleep. He stopped talking but Ginny opened her eyes and yawned.

  ‘What time is it?

  Greg glanced at his watch. ‘It’s three o’clock. I can’t beleive I haven’t been able to get us out of here.’

  ‘The witching hour,’ she said with another wide yawn. Ginny put her hands up to her mouth. ‘We need to summon up a ghost or some magic to open the door for us.’

  ‘I thought midnight was the witching hour?’

  She smiled, and he watched her pretty eyes crinkle.

  ‘No. I wrote an essay on it once. Interesting stuff.’

  ‘If you believe in that sort of thing.’ He shook his head. ‘But I guess if you grew up in a haunted house, you do.’

  ‘I don’t dismiss the possibility.’

  They both jumped when his phone dinged.

  Ginny laughed. ‘See, it worked. You just have to believe.’

  ‘Yes.’ Greg fist pumped the air so hard that the bed bounced beneath them and caught Ginny off balance. Before he could reach for his phone she had fallen sideways into his lap. He looked around surprised; he could have sworn he heard a soft chuckle come from the shadows at the other side of the wardrobe. Goose bumps lifted on his arms and he frowned as he reached over to help her sit up. All this talk about witching hours was creeping him out. His fingers held her shoulders lightly and her mouth dropped open as she stared up at him.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t help himself and leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, waiting for her to tense and pull away, but her soft lips clung to his. Warm ripples of excitement rushed through every nerve ending when she lifted her arms and put them around his neck. All was quiet for a minute or so, as her lips opened beneath his mouth and she returned his kiss.

  Eventually, he pulled back, reluctant to break the contact. He stared at her flushed cheeks and wide eyes, and was pleased when she smiled at him.

  ‘Sorry. I got a bit excited. About the phone I mean.’ He pulled out his phone as she slipped off the bed, stood straight and smoothed her dress down over her thighs.

  ‘It’s okay. Do you have service?’ Her voice was hopeful. ‘I’m really hungry.’

  Greg couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. ‘You do wonders for a guy’s ego. I just shared the nicest kiss I’ve had for a long time and all you can think about is food?’

  ‘And you do wonders for a girl’s ego. Nice? Didn’t I tell you before what Mrs Beynon used to say about nice?’

  ‘No?’ He shook his head with a grin. He hadn’t had this much fun in years. ‘Who’s Mrs Beynon?’

  ‘My primary school teacher. Nice is not a good word to use. Anyway, forget all that. Check your phone.’

  Greg looked down at the screen and groaned.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Ginny peered over at the screen.

  ‘A couple of messages came in, but there’s no service again. It must have come on for a couple of seconds.’ Greg crossed to the window and held the phone up high and kept his eyes on the screen. Ginny followed him over, but he shook his head.

  ‘Damn and blast, I can’t believe it.’ He put his hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Ginny. I’m going to do my best to get us out of here. Listen, will anyone wonder where you are if you don’t go home?’

  Ginny bit her lip. ‘No one will miss me until the shop doesn’t open. And I suppose no one would even miss me then. Not until my part-timer, Jo, goes to work on Tuesday afternoon.’
>
  ‘Friends who might try to call or visit?’

  Ginny shook her head slowly and dropped her head. ‘I haven’t had time to make friends yet.’

  God, how pathetic did she sound!

  She lifted her chin. ‘Lee down in the bakery beneath my unit would miss me after a while... maybe. But what about you? Will anyone wonder where you are tonight?’

  Embarrassment crawled up her spine. Maybe he thought she was digging to see if there was anyone else in his life.

  ‘Nope. Sounds like we’re a pair of loners, doesn’t it?’ Greg leaned against the wall. The atmosphere was a little bit tense since they’d shared that kiss, and Ginny dropped her gaze to the floor. Her lips were still tingling. It was the first time she’d kissed anyone for about five years.

  ‘No, just busy, independent modern people.’

  ‘Still sad though, when you think about it.’ He pushed himself away from the wall. ‘When we get out of here, and I’m going to do my best to sort that out now, we are going to be friends. Then if one of us disappears, someone will notice!’

  ‘Sounds like a plan to me, but there’s only one problem?’

  His brow wrinkled as he looked at her, but his eyes were bright. ‘What?’

  ‘How the heck are we going to get out?’

  Greg strode across to the door and ran his hands along the plaster wall. He reached into his pocket. ‘I’m going to cut a hole in the plaster with my key, and then push it out. There should be a big enough space for you to get through.’

  ‘And then what? How will you get out?’

  ‘You can go down and get some tools from my ute, and I’ll take that lock out of the door, or take the hinges off.’ Greg tapped on the wall and it sounded hollow.

  Ginny stepped back and leaned on the door as he pulled his keys out.

  The door creaked, and she stumbled as it opened beneath her weight. Greg’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.

  ‘What the f—’

  Ginny stepped out into the hallway, and Greg pushed himself to his feet and followed her.

  ‘The door swings both ways! I’ve never seen that before on those hinges,’ he muttered as she stood there staring at the open door. ‘How the heck did the door open?’

  ‘It must have been my weight on it.’

  ‘It couldn’t be,’ Greg said with a frown. ‘I put all of my strength against it several times.’

  ‘Well, whatever it was, we’re free.’ Her knees were trembling with the relief of getting out. Not because Greg was standing close to her.

  ‘We are and I’m not going to risk getting stuck again. I’ll hold it open. You go back in and get your bag and shoes. And your hat. Don’t forget your hat.’

  Ginny stepped past him, and the warmth from his body, and that lovely woodsy fragrance sent a little frisson of something down her back. It was a wonder he couldn’t hear her knees knocking. As she stepped into the room, Greg’s phone jangled, and he shook his head again as he lifted it to his ear.

  ‘Greg Tindall,’ he answered with a frown. ‘Who the heck would be calling at this time of the morning?’

  Ginny sat on the edge of the bed and reached down and slipped her shoes on as he took the call.

  ‘Johnno. I know. My phone’s been out of service, the blasted network went down.’ Greg ran his hand through his hair. ‘What the heck are you doing calling at this time of the night anyway?’

  Ginny picked up her bag and carried her hat and glanced at the bed before she walked back to the door. The clothes could stay there. She’d have to come back a few times to finish sorting and take them to the shop anyway.

  ‘Fair enough. You know me well.’ Greg looked across at her and his warm brown gaze held hers. ‘I’m still at the house. Long story. But a good story,’ he added softly.

  Ginny waited as Greg finished his call. ‘Great news. I guess I can celebrate. Yes, we will tomorrow night.’ He nodded. ‘And mate... I’d like to bring a friend with me, if that’s okay.’ Disconnecting the call, he put the phone into his pocket. He pushed the door open and walked into the room and picked up a small foot stool that was in front of the dressing table. Placing it securely against the door to hold it open, Greg stepped into the hall where Ginny was waiting.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Yes, my crazy solicitor mate. He knows me well. He said he knew I’d been up working.’

  ‘And he was too? At this time of night?’

  ‘He was. But he had good news.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Welcome to my house... almost. The contracts have been exchanged and settlement is in two weeks.’ Greg reached across and placed his hands loosely on her waist. ‘I’ve been invited to a barbeque at their place tomorrow night. I’d love to take you out. What do you say? Can you put up with the crazies?’

  Chapter Eight

  Ginny stood in front of the clothes rack at Shabby-Chic just before closing the following afternoon. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go out with Greg. The whole episode last night was like a dream, and when she’d woken up in the apartment this morning to the smell of baking bread and croissants, she’d actually wondered if she had dreamed it.

  The text that she’d received from Greg—her new friend—mid-morning, had dispelled that notion quickly.

  Thanks for a fun night. See you at five.

  It had been fun, surreal, but fun. Ginny looked at the clothes in front of her, she put her fingers to her lips and remembered that gentle kiss they had shared. It had turned into such a strange day.

  When he’d taken the call from his ‘mate’ after telling her that, like Ginny, he had no friends, a glimmer of suspicion had run through her, but he’d quickly explained that Johnno was his solicitor and they had been mates since school.

  As he’d walked her to her car—after checking that the front door was securely locked—she had agreed to go out with him.

  Now she was regretting it. What was she going to wear? She rifled through the rack, pulling out dresses, suits, trousers and frilly blouses and discarding them. Finally, her gaze settled on a red dress that she’d found at a garage sale last week.

  She’d arranged for Greg to pick her up at the shop and had left her car in the alley around the back of the bakery, and then caught a bus to the shop. Lee, whose family lived in the unit at the back of the bakery, had said he would keep an eye on it until she came home.

  Since she and Greg had been locked in the house together, Ginny had thought about what would happen if she had gone missing. No one would have known.

  No one would care.

  The quick three hours of sleep she’d snatched when she’d arrived home had been restless, and she’d had to put extra concealer beneath her eyes when she’d dressed for work.

  A decision had been made; she was going to make an effort to let Lee know when she was coming and going. His wife, Hong, was a sweetie and had tried to be friendly since Ginny had moved in upstairs, but Ginny had deliberately kept her distance.

  Trying to keep her life private was well and good, but last night had been a wake-up call. She’d ended up sitting down there this morning with Hong before she’d left for the shop, and they’d had a long chat.

  Ginny had caught the bus with a smile on her face. How strange that being locked in a room with someone for a few hours could bring such a change.

  Now she locked the shop door, turned the “Sorry We’re Closed” sign over, and carried the dress to the small room at the back of her shop. She slipped off her hot pink fifties suit, had a quick wash, and then pulled the red dress over her head, before turning to the long mirror beside the fitting room. The dress left her shoulders bare but for the narrow straps holding it up, a straight-edged neckline sat above her breasts, and then fitted snugly down to her waist before it flared out to a slight gather. The gaily patterned dress—watermelon red, green and dark blue—sat just above her knees and was a perfect match for her red sandals with the green bows.

  A
fresh application of make-up, a swish of cherry-red lipstick, a pair of red earrings with a matching necklace and she was ready.

  Well, she was dressed and ready to go, but her nerves kicked in and for the hundredth time that day, she wondered what on earth she was doing. Going to a barbeque at a stranger’s house, with a man she barely knew. What had she been thinking to agree to go with Greg?

  But he was the man who had kissed her and brought her to life.

  A bit like Rapunzel’s prince. She smiled as she looked in the mirror and brushed her loose hair so that it sat on one shoulder. Not spun gold like Rapunzel’s, but dark and shiny with the hint of a curl. Brent had been the one with the curls. Ginny closed her eyes and pushed that thought away.

  Slipping her lipstick, purse and hair brush into the small shiny leather bag, she sat in the chair by the shop entrance and waited for Greg. She crossed her legs at the ankles and focused on keeping calm.

  GREG COULDN’T HELP singing along with the radio as he navigated the car through the heavy Saturday early evening traffic in Surry Hills. His current apartment was in a block he’d just finished renovating at Erskineville, so it wasn’t far across to Ginny’s shop at Paddington.

  He smiled as he mouthed the words.

  What a crazy night last night had turned into, and what a strange way to meet someone. He knew more about Ginny—and she knew more about him—after one night than any of the women he’d dated over the past couple of years. Mind you, he did know a bit about some of them, because they hadn’t stopped talking about themselves the whole night he’d sat opposite them in a restaurant.

  Enough to turn him off dating for life.

  But Ginny had been different.

  Her story had tugged at his heartstrings. Despite her obvious inner strength, her vulnerability had him wanting to protect her. He wanted to make her smile, and hear her laugh again, like she had last night. When she’d finally relaxed with him, her face had come alive. Her life sounded lonely, and the thought of no one missing her had given him a bit of a wake-up call too.